3
And then the festival ends, and a new festival begins.
A fest.
What do you imagine when you hear that term?
The general interpretation is that when you say fest, it’s short for the English term rock festival and refers to a music event where hollering, partying extroverts gather to not just go all night, but, worst case, party for days.
With booze in one hand, they’ll headbang, mosh, stage dive, or sling arms over shoulders for a chicken fight, or get on a portable shrine and call out wasshoi, wasshoi like Mirai Moriyama in Moteki, to connect through music, even with total strangers, and have an exciting time and share an experience they would surely be unable to forget—that has to be what people imagine is a “fest.”
That’s about what I imagine, personally. I’ll acknowledge my impression is somewhat biased and prejudiced.
But it’s not necessarily a bad one. Joining together with others through music and having a good time is actually a great way to enjoy yourself, and I would also say it’s one facet of a fest’s purpose.
When you get down to it, a festival is the same as matsuri in Japanese. It’s a public occasion.
As they used to say way back when:
Chiba is famous for festivals and dancing. There are idiots who dance and idiots who watch, so if you’re an idiot like the rest, you’ve got to dance and sing a song.
A wise saying. Truly a wise saying. It’s so wise, I’m gonna get Megu-Megu-Megurin-Megurisshed .
I won’t reject that means of enjoyment.
If you read about history, you find that in any era, festivals are a sort of release from constraint, where everyone has permission to indulge. You don’t even have to dive all the way into ancient history; it’s said that in the banquets following the traditional Shinto rituals starting in the middle ages, everyone regardless of status would drink until they puked… Wait. That’s not permissive at all, is it? These days, that’s called alcohol harassment, and pulling that even once is in violation of workplace standards.
Modern fests, however, demand a new measure of permissiveness.
That is, namely, giving everyone permission to enjoy themselves in their own way.
Some people like to be a part of a big group that gets all worked up, while others like to privately bask in the music. Therefore, it should be valid to enjoy a fest without yelling, just feeling the vibrations welling up inside you as you remain silent and alone in the venue.
Of course, it’s not only fests that have a wide variety of acceptable ways to enjoy them. You could say that’s the same for just about all content—movies, music, anime, novels, manga, stage plays, Mewkledreamy, and everything else.
Of these, however, fests are exceptional, and I argue that should be recognized.
Judging content by type instead of quality is incredibly foolish, but if you are to make a distinction between a fest and other content, then I’m forced to say that line is drawn by its transient experience.
Movies, anime, and other recorded content are replayable. Being able to watch it many times over if you want to see the same thing is a major plus, but you can’t re-create an original experience or the initial impulse of the moment.
Of course, then you can argue that fests and live concerts can be recorded to enjoy a different way a second or third time—and I am compelled to heartily agree. And of course, you can also watch the same movie repeatedly, bragging about the number of times you’ve watched it to assert dominance within a community.
But it’s also inarguable that your very first encounter with that media is unique. There’s a certain impact that can only be felt when you come in contact with something for the first time.
That inimitable moment is what makes a fest the ultimate experience. The once-in-a-lifetime enthusiasm and atmosphere created by the venue’s audience and the performers onstage can only ever be experienced in that moment.
I can understand the joy of sharing that with friends, and I will offer my unstinting approval for that. But it’s also wonderful to meet the challenge alone and meditate privately on the preciousness that must be protected at all costs.
At the end of the day, everyone should enjoy it in the way that they please.
Speaking personally, I strongly contest that a solo battle without interruption, where I can yell and wave my penlight all I want, and then get emo-emo on the way back and write up a concert report as a poem, is all a part of the true pleasure of a fest.
It’s fine to go to a fest alone, too. That’s what freedom is all about.
Inviting all your neighbors to march with you is also good. Sallying forth alone without any prior arrangements is also good.
So long as you’re not causing problems for others, you’re allowed to enjoy it in any way you want.
Which means, in other words…
…going to a fest with your little sister should also be allowed.
Another new spring was here.
After somehow squeaking through that reckless, thoughtless, and relentless joint prom with about a hundred yards of elbow grease, a hundred yards of talking, and a few inches of sweet talk, it was finally spring break.
Then, before long, the new semester was upon us.
There was only a little bit of the break left, so I was enthusiastic to make effective use of it, thinking, I’ll power-snooze my way through it just like Meng Haoran! But such wishes were in vain, and Komachi took me out first thing in the morning.
“Bro, hurry, hurry!” she said. “The fest is gonna start!”
“Yeah, yeah…,” I grumbled.
With Komachi shoving me and prodding me in the back, we walked from the station.
We were headed to a certain music festival. That was probably why Komachi was going all out that day, dressed up in a punk black leather jacket, a casual T-shirt, damaged jeans, and boots.
This is a completely trivial fact, but just like the old saying that goes “Chiba is famous for festivals and dancing,” Chiba is what they call a fest mecca, and a number of famous music festivals are held here. Apparently, we were marching off to one of those.
I was just an escort here, so I didn’t really know the details of the event, but Komachi said it was a pretty big concert.
And Komachi’s word was validated by all the hollering, extroverted party types on the way to the venue, even though it wasn’t open yet.
I see—it really was the right choice for me to escort her…
Fests aren’t just filled with fans who are purely there for the music—I’ve heard through the grapevine that there are also scoundrels who come for pick-up-related ends.
If a tender, young, and pretty girl like Komachi were to dive in there alone, the concertgoers loitering around the venue would chat her up with a chain of disconnected remarks like Whooo! You’re cute, huh? You in school? How old are you? Where d’you live? So, like, d’you have LINE? and then before you even know it, she’s getting asked on a date. And then afterward, they’ll keep going with, like, Do you have a dream? Do you know you can get income like royalties? We’re having a barbecue later—wanna come? and then she’s canvassed straight into an MLM.
I can’t have Komachi getting caught up in some weird online salon! That’d be a disaster! I have to protect her and keep her from suddenly going hollow-eyed and contacting every single one of her old classmates!
Burning with this sense of mission, I strolled along the way to the venue.
There was still quite a lot of time before the show started, but the concertgoers were pouring in, and groups of people wearing band T-shirts and uniforms were starting to stand out here and there. It really had that fest feel—this is a common sight in Chiba, in particular around the Makuhari area. Makuhari has a large event hall, a baseball stadium, and a beach, so it’s perfect for a variety of events.
I’m sure some people got tricked by the name Makuhari Messe today, as usual, and got off at Makuhari Station… You have to either get off at Kaihin-Makuhari Station or take the bus from Makuhari-Hongo Station…, I thought as we continued on, and then we came to the venue.
It was just slightly past when they’d opened the doors, and the lobby was thronging with crowds. I’m sure some of these people tasted despair at Makuhari Station…
With this kind of concert, generally everyone knows that the time right after the doors open is the most crowded.
But though I may not look like it, I’m rather practiced when it comes to concerts. When you get to my level, what rarely but often happens is you get to the venue anticipating that the concert start will be pushed back by five minutes, leading to your completely missing the opening act. Whoops, that’s no good… The useless terminal otaku has the tendency to read too deeply into the schedule situation based on the expressions of the staff listening to their headsets.
But judging from this turnout, we could anticipate even greater crowds inside the venue. I honestly wanted to avoid getting pushed around in a sea of people as we waited forever for the show to start. If I were alone, I would have gotten a Max can first before casually strolling over, but this time, I’d come purely as Komachi’s escort. I had to ask what she wanted.
…Well then, what do we do? Go home? I asked her with a look, and she pat-patted my shoulder and urged me on.
“Bro, hurry, hurry! Let’s go, let’s go!”
Komachi-chan seems quite enthusiastic.
Hmm, okay. Today, Big Brother has come to relax and enjoy the music… I’m more in the mood to stay in the back… It’s standing room only, so if you’re in the front, the trouble from the back moves forward in a wave, you know? I really don’t want to get involved in that…
I considered saying something like that to gently guide her with my apparent expertise, but when I looked into Komachi’s sparkling little eyes, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything so boorish.
As a result, I wound up being really vague. “Like, okay. It’s not time for it to start, right? Don’t we have some more time?”
Komachi pouted and wagged her finger at me like, No, no. “What’re you talking about? The fest lasts until you get home, right? Which means…the fest has already started once you’ve left the house, too!” she declared, puffing out her chest as she pumped a clenched fist into the air. She was so aggressive about it, she won me over by default.
“O-oh. Yeah! That’s true! …I think?” Is it? Is it true? I agreed automatically, but I feel like that was a pretty irrational argument. Like “If you do it till you win, then you’ll never lose!”
But Komachi thought nothing of her brother’s look of skepticism, preparing to barrel ahead. “It is! Never mind—let’s just go, let’s go! If not, we’ll miss hearing the preshow announcement!”
“Y-yeah… Okay, then let’s go…”
Aha, so she’s the type of umamusume who’s good at taking the lead from behind? She totally blew right past me at the end. Well, the atmosphere created by the announcer or the narration before a concert starts is part of the live show experience. As expected of my little sister—she’s got a sharp eye for these things.
“Let’s gooo!” She scampered off, and when she looked back at me, I trotted on after her.
When we got into the venue, it was filled with noise.
I could hear expectant whispers, loud and excited chattering, and unfettered yelling. Even in the dark with all the lights off, you could sense the anticipation.
It wasn’t long before the show began and the excitement in the hall came to a head. Heck, people were yelling and waving their penlights at the promotional video playing on the big screen.
The front was dominated by hard-core fans of the participating artists and idols, so we automatically took up position in the rear. But you get the best view of the overall buzz of a concert hall from the back. I wasn’t really interested in the show to begin with, but standing in the middle of the audience got even me excited.
Eventually, the background music of the hall slowly faded out, and the video on the screen disappeared, too. In inverse proportion, the expectant yelling got even louder.
It was just about to start.
Standard protocol for a concert would be for the general notices to come next. Depending on the show, they might gear it toward the event itself, like having the CEO or the staff make announcements for the producers.
Well then, I wonder what general notices this fest will have, I thought, listening for the announcement.
Then, mingled in the murmuring behind us were some familiar voices.
“So this is the venue for the fest today…”
“We’ve gotta hurry, or it’ll start without us!”
“Of course! Let’s go, go, go!”
I heard a particularly composed voice offering commentary, then suddenly a cheerful voice urging her on, followed by a cunning yet charming voice.
But then the first one kept the others from rushing in. “Wait right there. Don’t run in the venue. Also…they’re about to make the general announcements, so be sure to listen.”
“Absolutely!”
“Whoa, she’s reeeally into this…”
I overheard an energetic response and a weirded-out reaction, and following a light clearing of the throat, the composed voice continued dispassionately, “‘During the performance, either set your cell phones to silent or turn them off. Photos and video and audio recordings are also forbidden. Those who engage in this behavior and fail to heed warnings by staff will be asked to leave the venue, and the event may be interrupted, so we please ask for your cooperation. Furthermore, please be aware that this event is being recorded for video.’ That’s what it says; do you two understand?” The composed tone went on at length with what sounded rather like the general notices.
“Yep, yep! Follow the rules and enjoy the fest!” the cheerful voice replied brightly, but I had a sneaking suspicion she didn’t really get it. That was followed by a quiet, resigned-sounding sigh.
The voices and the conversation sounded so familiar, it made me wonder, Do I know them? Though I turned halfway back to get a look, the crowd blocked my view, and I couldn’t quite see.
But even within the throng, that cunning-cute voice, the cheerful and cute laugh, and that calm, beautiful tone reached my ears with near-perfect clarity.
“…Then let’s have some fun!”
“Whoooo!”
“…Oh, it’s about to begin.”
I looked toward the front of the venue to see fog wafting up from the stage and a spotlight jumping around.
Finally, the festival begins…
It was one big artist after another right from the start, and the fest was in a whirl of excitement.
Though the headliner wasn’t out yet, the audience was wild and excited, and their enthusiasm got to me. Before I knew it, I was yelling with my arms up and swinging around a mini-towel. Komachi was also super-busy jumping and hopping around, and time passed in the blink of an eye.
But being in such a big crowd for this long really was exhausting, so when we headed to the washroom, I accepted Komachi’s proposal to take a little break as well.
“Ahhh, this is so fun…,” Komachi murmured, satisfaction and a comfortable tiredness clear in her voice. I nodded at her as we left the performance hall.
This fest was a pretty long one, so they had a few food stalls set up and a rest area stocked with drinks.
I was feeling a little wobbly from the ringing in my ears and the bass rumbling in the pit of my stomach, so I headed for the rest area.
There, we found a large crowd also recovering their energy for the second half of the battle. Given the size of the event, even the areas outside the performance hall were packed. I pushed my way through the waves of people until I got to the corner by the wall, where I let out a sigh.
Then suddenly, a familiar voice came from behind me. “Ahhh, this is so fun, huh?! The whole audience is really worked up!”
“Right? Too worked up, actually, so I need a break for a moment…”
“Y-yes… Agh…”
It seemed like three girlfriends had come to the fest together.
One of them seemed unused to these sorts of events, as her sigh sounded particularly exhausted and was followed by a remark of concern I could just barely hear. “Oh, you seem pretty tired, Yukinon…” I thought I could hear a little smile as she said a name I was very familiar with. The only Yukinons I know are the Yukino Yukinoshita at our high school and Yukino Bijin from Tracen Academy.
I turned back automatically to look toward the voices.
Komachi had apparently noticed as well, as she called out clearly, “Ohhh! Yui, Yukino!” and an energetic voice replied.
“Komachi, yahallooo! Oh, and yahallo to you, too, Hikki!”
“Oh, Hikigaya.”
One of these people was the type you’d expect to find at a fest, and the other was very much not. In other words, it was Yui Yuigahama, waving with lots of energy, and Yukino Yukinoshita, a little pale-faced as she quietly muttered my name. Iroha Isshiki was also with them.
The trio must have decided to wear matching outfits for the event, as they were all in fairly punkish attire: loose, oversized T-shirts with black leather jackets on top and damaged jeans and high-cut boots on the bottom.
Yukinoshita usually came off as modest and feminine, Yuigahama wore a lot of popular, casual clothing, and Isshiki wore a lot of cutesy, soft-and-flowy stuff, so they all had a pretty different charm that day.
“Oh…” I nodded back. The gesture was half out of surprise, like Funny meeting you here, while the other half was just confirming it was who I thought it was.
“Oh, it’s you.” Isshiki responded with a casual bow before giving a questioning look to Komachi beside me. “…And Okome-chan.”
Komachi scrunched her face up at that form of address. “Hmm… That sketchy nickname is starting to stick…” She immediately started hopping around, saying her own name again. “It’s Komachi! Komachi’s name is Komachi!”
With a pat on top of Komachi’s head as if to hold her down, Isshiki grinned. “Come on, what’s the problem? It’s, like, a cute nickname, right? Don’t you know that being the younger-girl character who gets teased has its benefits ?”
“Ugh, she really is kinda messed up…” Komachi jerked away in horror.
For some reason, Isshiki also had a look of horror. “I mean, he’s the one who said that.”
“Ugh, it totally sounds like something he’d say…” Then both of them looked at me with contempt.
I didn’t say that… I didn’t say that at all… False accusation after false accusation…
But this was to break the ice between the two of them, so I would resign myself and accept it.
Isshiki and Komachi had only met each other very briefly during the joint prom, and they hadn’t known each other for very long. The fastest way to get them to warm up to each other was to use some mutual acquaintance. Talking dirty behind someone else’s back to generate a sense of complicity is the real secret to making friends!
Well, this is Komachi, so I’m sure she’ll pull that off with aplomb.
Komachi does have impressive communication skills, if I may say so of my own sister, and has no problem talking openly about all sorts of topics even on first meeting someone or with people older than her. When we went to Chiba Village a while back during summer vacation, she’d managed to communicate well even when everyone else was older than her. She’d also chatted in a friendly way with Kawa-something’s little sister, Keika Kawasaki. She can get close to anyone without any prejudice. As expected of the little sister of the world.
That very moment, Komachi was zooming right past me to jump into a conversation with the others.
“I’m glad we could meet up with you, Komachi-chan!” Yuigahama said, waving her hands wide with a smile.
Komachi clapped as well with a gleeful laugh. “No, no, Komachi’s glad that you reached out!”
Huh. I see. I’d thought it was an eerie coincidence to just bump into them at a fest at such a large venue, but from the way these two were talking, they’d actually planned this. Now that I think of it, Komachi was the one to say we should go outside for a break. So that was her excuse, and meeting up like this was the real goal, huh…? Or so I nearly thought, but hold on a minute here.
“Huh? I wasn’t invited.” Why? Why did they skip over Hikki and invite Komachi instead?
Yuigahama answered a bit hesitantly. “If we told you, you’d say no…”
“Well, that’s true…” Even if they had talked to me about it, it would have immediately activated my instakill: “I’ll go if I can.” And even if I did plan to go, there’s a thought pattern common among losers where you gradually become more unwilling to do it as the day gets closer—that’s the kind of person I am. It’s like whenever you decide on a plan beforehand, it kind of becomes a hassle; what’s up with that?
But Komachi is the kind of little sister who will completely understand that temperament of mine. “And that’s why Komachi was the one to get the invitation,” she said with a smug look and double peace signs.
I’d expect no less… She’s got a good grasp on my quirks, knowing that I generally would be unable to refuse a request from my little sister, if it was forced through on zero notice the day of the event. Well, not just Komachi; Yuigahama had to also understand that well, too. That was exactly why she’d chosen to go through Komachi.
Oh no, that’s kinda embarrassing… How are they actually this informed about my mode of life? This is embarrassing; I got completely lured out.
I cleared my throat with a gefum, gefum and decided to turn the discussion in a different direction. “Huh? If you’re gonna say that, then isn’t Yukinoshita the same? She doesn’t seem like the type to go to events like this…”
When I looked at her, Yukinoshita’s weary affect and attention-grabbing classy aura just made my point for me. She stood out so much, it was clear she was unused to this.
A faint smile crossed her face, and she touched a hand to her forehead and looked down. “Y-yes. This is my first time coming here as well… Fests are…wild, aren’t they? Ah, hold on, I can’t even; I feel weak…”
“Yukino! You’re sounding like an otaku Twitter account post-concert!” Komachi jumped in with a comeback.
But indeed. She was talking like one of those female otaku out there live-tweeting Wait, I can’t even, I’m weak, GoYuu are basically already together… while she watches anime.
“Regardless, I’m tired…,” Yukinoshita said.
Well, she was lacking endurance to begin with. And being in an unfamiliar place like this only had to exacerbate that. That’s no surprise if you get hit all of a sudden by the enthusiasm of the crowds. When you’re surrounded by so many people, even just standing there is surprisingly exhausting. Getting pushed around by excited concertgoers makes you tired like riding a packed train at rush hour.
“Are you okay? Need a drink or something…?” I asked, just in case.
But Isshiki cut me off. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. It’ll arrive soon.”
“Arrive?”
It’ll arrive? What’s with that completely vague subject? Did you order something on, like, Uber or something? These days, everything is so convenient…, I was wondering, when in the distance, from the edge of the rest area, a familiar someone was laboring his way toward us.
“Dude. The shops were craaazy crowded. I could barely get any drinks at all. This fest is like, whoa.”
And there was Tobe, carrying a bunch of drinks in both arms, looking triumphant as he pushed his way over to us. Then when he noticed me, he raised the drinks in both his hands and raced over. “Whoa, huh? It’s Hikitani!”
“H-hey… No way, it was Tober Eats…?” I gave Isshiki a look saying, So you’re using the newest delivery service?
“Act now, and handling fee included, it’s basically free,” she said blithely.
“Pay him, please…” He is basically your senior.
Pretty harsh to send someone older to get drinks, you know… And not getting paid money is exploitation, you know… And it’s indescribably cruel to add that he’s basically free, you know…
This casual, dirty exploitation tore a cry of anguish from my throat, but it seemed the one being exploited wasn’t really bothered.
“Nah, nah, nah, we’re cool, we’re cool. Here’s your drinks.” Apparently totally used to this, Tobe started handing out the drinks he’d just bought.
“Thaaanks!” Yuigahama said with her usual level of energy, while Yukinoshita thanked him in a rather tired-sounding voice.
“Thank you…”
“Thanks so much!” Even Komachi was nonchalantly handed a drink in the process.
Meanwhile, Isshiki just thanked him with a very quiet “Mm-hmm.”
And so the four drinks Tobe carried in hand were all smoothly sold out. Hmm… It seems now there’s nothing left at all for our friend Tobe…
“Sorry, I’ll pay for Komachi’s drink,” I said quietly to him. Even if Tober Eats was a functionally free delivery service, Komachi had joined the others just now, so she wouldn’t have been in his original count.
“Nah, nah, we’re good. You don’t hafta…,” Tobe answered casually in that who-knows-where-it’s-from accent, not seeming bothered at all as he cackled and waved his hands.
The hell, is he a good guy or what…? I was thinking when Tobe finally noticed Komachi’s presence.
He gave a melodramatic “Whoaaa!” of surprise, snapped his fingers, and pointed at her. “Wait, you’re, like, Hikitani’s little sister! Dude! You’re basically, like, Sistertani-chan! I haven’t seen you in forever! Hey, hey, what’s up, whassup? What’s goin’ on? Oh dude, we gotta catch up. We’ll have, like, piles of things to talk about, am I right?”
“Ohhh! It’s been a long time! It really has been a long time! We have so many things to talk about next time absolutely absolutely honestly we have to later!” Meanwhile, even though Komachi had a wide and bright smile on her face, when Tobe scooted toward her, she backed up a step. She was even answering him with the kind of expressions you use after everyone’s been out drinking together and you’re about to leave.
Her skillful snapback made Yuigahama and me jerk away in horror.
“That’s how you push someone away when you have no intention of ever talking to them…,” I said.
“That thing girls who aren’t friends like to do!” Yuigahama cried.
Next time, absolutely, later. In this case, next time and later will absolutely never come. I’m very informed on this matter.
“Wait, why are you here, Tobe?” I asked. I could basically get Yukinoshita, Yuigahama, and Isshiki being together. But adding Tobe to that didn’t really make sense.
“I invited Hayama, but for some reason, this guy just showed up instead,” Isshiki answered in an utterly emotionless tone, and Yukinoshita concurred with an equal lack of emotion.
“Indeed. He just showed up.”
Ohhh, looks like Miss Yukinoshita’s energized now! She’s gotten her cutting edge back! Nice, nice!
As for Tobe, on the other hand—you would expect him to cut loose and snap back after that, but there was nothing at all cutting about him. As if he wanted to tell us, I’d be impressed if you did get me mad, he chuckled a wry na-ha-ha. “Hey, hey, I just came ’cause, like, Hayato told me he’d be worried if the girls went alone.”
“Hmm…” I made skeptical noises.
“I mean? Me too, though? Like harassment from dudes and stuff? I wouldn’t let that happen?” Though nobody had really asked him, Tobe ruffled up his hair and started to put on a weird show of what a good guy he was. Leave him like this, and he might grow up to be the kind of adult who tries to look cool by tweeting things that everyone will have a hard time reacting to, like I might look like a troublemaker, but when I saw a young kid drop a can on the ground, I picked it up and tossed it. Well, Tobe is a good guy…
When everyone there was unable to react, Isshiki let out a deep aaagh. “Yeah, he was reeeally going on about that… I should’ve just sent him a LINE rather than talking to him when I was at the soccer club.” Then she gave Tobe an ice-cold look. “You don’t have to show off so much—drop it. You really should stop doing stuff like that, okay?”
“O-okay… Dude… She’s actually lecturing me…” Tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck, Tobe kept muttering, “Dude…dude.”
The way Isshiki was saying it was pretty, uh, yeah, but she was replying to him instead of ignoring him, which made me think she was actually being fairly nice.
I get it now; I see basically what happened. Probably, when Isshiki had shown up at the soccer club, she’d mentioned the fest to Hayama, saying something like I’ll feel anxious if it’s just us girls… And then good ol’ Hayama had used that against her, putting on a charming smile and carelessly commenting that they could count on Tobe. He is really good at that sort of thing. Saying that in Tobe’s presence would also flatter his pride and chivalrous spirit, which is what brought us to now… In this world, the nicer you are, the more you get used…
As I was keenly feeling this fact, Yuigahama felt bad for Tobe (of course) and came in to defend him. “H-hey, now. It is something to be thankful for…”
Pacified by that highly dubious remark, Isshiki also reluctantly agreed. “Well, sure, true, I guess…”
Hmm, the way you put it is kinda sketchy, Gahama-chan!
Komachi immediately jumped in then to butter him up. “For sure! I’m thankful! Hey! Mr. Reliable! Thanks for the drink!” While she was at it, she tried to get out of paying for the drink she’d just gotten, too.
Uh, Big Bro will make sure to pay for that, okay? Come on, that’s just mean.
As guilt was rising within me, Yukinoshita was starting to smile with exasperation. It was like she’d been waiting for an opening to strike. “If a certain someone would have just come from the start, there wouldn’t have been the need for Tobe to get hurt for no reason.”
“You were just hurting him, too, though?” Have you forgotten? You were just treating him like he wasn’t invited? And thanks to that, now I’m feeling like I have to apologize for you, too?
Like a parent apologizing for their problem children, I bobbed a little bow at Tobe. “Well, sorry for making you go along with us.”
“Nah, nah, it’s no biggie at all, man! …I totally love being surrounded by sound, too, y’know?” he said, acting super-self-satisfied.
“Ah, I see… All right, then…” I felt like I’d wasted my energy apologizing to him, but just this once, I would let him act cool with that look on his face. He had actually seemed to have fun during the prom, so I’m sure he does enjoy events like this.
“Well, you do seem like you’d be into this stuff,” I said, which basically implied, But the rest of you don’t really, right?
Isshiki picked up on that and quickly replied, “Oh, no, I just thought this would be a good reference for future events. Well, this one is on a way bigger scale, so yeah. But Chiba has some great music festivals, right?”
“Ahhh, true. They do have some really big events,” Yuigahama said, nodding a few times, and she was quite right. Chiba actually does have large concerts pretty frequently.
“Ahhh… Like that—that one thing.” I nodded along as well and brought up the name of the most famous large-scale event in Chiba’s musical history. “…Like the Glay two-hundred-thousand-person concert.”
“That’s, like, another era?! How old are you, Hikki…?” Yuigahama was aghast.
Don’t be stupid; legends surpass eras. That was the event that made the people of Chiba prefecture aware of large-scale music events (personally researched).
Or so I seriously considered arguing back at her, but before I could, Yuigahama shrugged in exasperation. “If you’re talking about fests in Chiba, normally you’d bring up Summer Sonic. Or Countdown Japan.”
“Well, I’m not very interested in that stuff, so I don’t really know…”
“Whaaat? How can you not know them when they’re that famous…?” Isshiki offered her opinion, seeming a bit annoyed, or maybe shocked.
There was even a hint of pity in her dumbfounded expression, and I hurriedly shot back, “Hey, I do know about them. I do, okay…? Well, just the names, and I’ve never actually gone. Living in the neighborhood actually makes it harder to find the time to go. It’s like people who live in Tokyo not going to Tokyo Tower.”
Only Tobe responded to my random nonsense with nods of agreement, arms folded. “Yeah, dude, I get that.”
Everyone else was looking at me with quite a bit of skepticism. As if she was their representative, Yukinoshita eyed me dubiously and asked, “Do you even go to fests in the first place?”
“Well, that depends on your definition of fest…,” I said, considering for a while.
The only event I’ve ever been to that you could properly designate as a fest would be BanNam Fest. Would Anisama also count? I’m sure you could call it one, in the broad sense of the word… Would Lantis Matsuri count? Hmm, well, I suppose it does. That’s a fest.
Once I’d come to that conclusion, I gave her a big nod. “I go to a lot.”
Yuigahama seemed rather surprised. “Huh, that’s unexpected. Which ones?”
“I just went to one recently. Two days at Tokyo Dome.”
“Two days at Tokyo Dome… Huhhh.” Yuigahama sounded impressed, as did Yukinoshita.
“That’s quite an amazing artist.”
Quite so—Tokyo Dome is one of the major pillars of large music venues in Japan and the pride of the nation. Boasting of a capacity of fifty-five thousand, only the greatest artists can hold concerts there.
Reflecting on that moment, I said, “Well, yeah. Since the second day was Aikatsu!…”
That…was…so good…
Man, right from when the narration from Aoi-chan started at the beginning, I had goose bumps. And then after that, the Aikatsu! system background music played, right? And also, they call the first song “Daihatsu.” And then after that with “Shining Etude,” I thought I was gonna die right then and there and find sweet relief. And then when I was ascending to heaven, “Start Dash Sensation” came, and I was falling to my knees somehow even though I was sitting down. Originally, the concept for the second day was an idol festival, but the shared cast there was so incredibly good, I think the way it was put together was nothing short of a miracle. I really felt like I’d gotten a glimpse of the live entertainment of the new era, overcoming the pseudoreligious fervor with which we stan our own personal biases, and it was just emotional. Ah, soooo eeeee…eeeemo…
It was such a feelsy vicarious experience, I had degraded into an emotional bot that would endlessly tweet Emo…emo…e-emo… One slip, and I would start droning on and on about how good the second day was.
But that’s the sort of thing you can write only in a concert report on Twitter, and if you try to do it verbally, your spinal cord will just start saying emo without consulting your brain.
As I was eating the emo-emo fruit to become an emo human who could say nothing but emo, emo, Komachi was smoothly ignoring that to move the conversation along. “Well, often enough, I suppooose.”
“Me too, when I’m going out with friends and stuff,” Yuigahama agreed.
“Yeah, dude! For sure!”
“If you mean jazz concerts…,” said Yukinoshita. “A long time ago, when my family went on a yacht cruise, there was a concert on the water…”
“Ohhh, the people who can’t escape at the end, even when it sinks,” said Yuigahama.
“Isn’t that the Titanic…?” Komachi cut in.
“But I feel like that’s not quite the same type of concert,” said Isshiki.
“Yes,” Yukinoshita agreed. “So I’m not sure how I should enjoy this kind.”
“Oh, well, my brother knows a lot about that. Right, Bro?”
“Yeah.” With the discussion suddenly turned to me, I instantly suspended my vicarious emo experience and nodded sharply.
“You were listening?!” Yuigahama cried.
“Well, yeah. No matter when it is or what I’m doing, Komachi’s voice is the one thing I’ll always hear. I’d even say I wasn’t listening to anything but Komachi’s voice,” I said.
Komachi beamed a bright, happy smile. “Wow, that’s creepy! ” she said cruelly.
And Yukinoshita did not smile; the disgust on her face seemed fairly serious. “That really is creepy…”
Hmm, such direct disparagement strikes me right in the heart, you know… It comes off as such a natural response—not good.
Brought back to reality all at once, I returned to the subject of the conversation while I was at it. Clearing my throat with a gefum, gefum to express its importance, I decided to initiate them on how to enjoy concerts. “…So a concert. You don’t have to get too complicated about it. At first, you just have to do the M. Bison stance. Like you’re the boyfriend.”
However, the moment I said that, Yukinoshita’s expression twisted in confusion. “M.…Bison? What? What did you say?” she asked back.
So I repeated it one more time. “Uh, like I said, M. Bison standing boyfriend face.”
“That doesn’t explain anything!” Yuigahama wailed, smooshing her bun.
I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that the expression is a bit difficult for an amateur…
I searched anew for words it seemed would get through to them. “…Ah, maybe it’d be easier to get if I said it like that—the old-fashioned-man look.”
“I don’t get what you mean! Well, I get what the words mean…but I don’t get it. Huhhh? Why would you act like you’re the boyfriend at a concert…?” Yuigahama was already starting to abandon understanding, hmm-hmming to herself.
But beside her, Isshiki was nodding. “Oh-ho. Now I’m curious what sort of intense look you put on your face while you gloat.”
“Wow, she sure doesn’t put things gently… Well, but Komachi is curious, too.”
“Indeed. Then give it a try, to show us just what it’s like,” said Yukinoshita.
“Well, it’s nothing really difficult… Um, kinda like this…,” I said, folding my arms and standing at an angle to gaze into the distance. My eyes were not now or here, but on a metaphysical idol.
Gazing beyond the shining lights to the stage that only I could see, I smiled peacefully and slowly nodded. In my mind, I said, I understand—I’m the only one who really does. Who understands you. The real you… It’s just me…
Instantly, everything sounded far away.
A painfully awkward silence fell over five people, but despite it all, I was still nodding along.
And then, in my heart, I said to the formless idol in my imagination, …I see. So you’ve found…the place you want to be… You’re shining so bright… So, so much brighter than before.
I ruminated on the nonexistent days that idol and I had shared, aware that they were lost in the distant past, sighed in mild self-deprecation, and lightly shook my head.
Gazing into the middle distance with a miserable smile of regret, I answered under my breath, “Yeah. I have a good view of you from the seat at the very back…”
I think Isshiki’d had about enough of this dude, as she shook her head violently. “No way, no way, no way.”
Komachi and Yuigahama did the same as if to say, Not happening.
“Yikes, yikes, yikes.”
“Creepy, creepy, creepy.”
“Emo, emo, emo.” Only I could see the truth. I chanted emo, emo; I would not lose to the great chorus of no way yikes creepy.
But it’s only me, Bump of Chicken, and people on drugs who try to see things that cannot be seen. Yuigahama, the most relatively wholesome and well-adjusted of us, seemed disturbed. “What’s so emotional about that?!”
“You make yourself emotional watching that way, so it’s fine.”
Yes—at a fest or concert or whatever, the only important thing is whether you get feels or not.
Yukinoshita’s discomfort turned into confusion—even concern—after my earnest appeal. “…What’s so enjoyable about that?”
She spoke with great consideration, as if touching a sensitive spot, very much like when it’s dead silent at the dinner table and your mom screws up her courage to ask, …Are you having fun at school?
She looked so uneasy asking me that, I was forced to answer her seriously. “Uh… Of course. It feels good to be the only one not screaming. Putting on the old-fashioned-man look makes you feel like the protagonist of a Makoto Shinkai film. You get theme music in your head and everything.”
“Listen to the music in the concert, not the music in your head…” Yukinoshita touched her temple as if she had a headache and breathed an exasperated sigh.
Hmm… So you don’t get it, huh…? It feels so good to look down on the screaming masses. You get so many feels.
The moment I feel most connected to my bias is when I can act like I have transcended mere fan-hood to understand her like no one else can. A man such as I can reach an even higher level of enjoyment by drawing such lines of discrimination between myself and other fans in the deepest areas.
But they probably wouldn’t get that. Yuigahama’s mouth was hanging open. “I don’t get it at all… Creepy.”
“That’s…ew,” Isshiki agreed.
Stop taking it so seriously, okay? Like just now, I kinda got the sense you really, truly meant that?
But Yuigahama wasn’t the only one with a serious tone. Yukinoshita also seemed concerned. “Do you always do things like that? Are you all right? Are you making sure to take your medicine three times a day?”
“No need. My brain’s always in a happy stupor when I’m watching a concert.”
“It’s not always good to be too happy, I see…” Yukinoshita’s gaze was so incredibly gentle. Like the tragic warmth of a caregiver nursing an invalid.
The mood was starting to feel like someone died. Isshiki sighed in utter exasperation. “Isn’t there a more straightforward way to enjoy a concert?” she said, sounding incredibly fed up. Her expression said that it would feel too viscerally awkward for her to intrude any further.
But even if she asked for such a thing, I personally saw this as the most straightforward and emotional way to enjoy a fest. Well, she had to be asking me to, like, focus on more mainstream sensibilities. “When you get used to it, you start memorizing the calls and stuff, so you can enjoy it just fine.”
“Calls?” This use of the English word must have been unfamiliar to Yukinoshita, as she tilted her head.
Then Tobe nodded like, Uh-huhhh and butted in. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, calls are like that thing, right? Like Vaaanilla Vanilla Vaaanilla whoo whoo sorta thing?”
“No.” Well, he got the rhythm basically right, so yeah, I guess it’s close, but it’s totally different. You don’t see the Vanilla truck around these days, so nobody’ll get it… There is one girl here who’s nodding along, but I will pretend I didn’t see that.
“A call is like a sort of interjection in a song,” I said, but I still had trouble explaining it.
I could elaborate by saying Basically, it’s that thing where you go “Umapyoi! Umapyoi!” in a winning live, but I really couldn’t expect them to get that. When watching that ending scene, you generally just cry, and it’s no time for doing the calls anyway… I never thought the day would come when I would cry from umapyoi… Well, leaving that aside.
“Well, to pick a popular one…” I considered it, then picked the most straightforward example that came to mind. “One, two! Yeeeah, yeeeah, yeah yeah yeah! …Something like that.”
Yuigahama and Isshiki nodded. “Ahhh, I kinda feel like I’ve heard that before…,” Yuigahama said.
“That is basically how idol concerts go,” Isshiki agreed.
“Ohhh, do you like idols, Iroha?” Komachi asked her.
“Not enough to go to concerts, obviously… But, well, I like pretty girls.”
“You really don’t put things gently.”
As Komachi and Isshiki were discoursing on idols, Yukinoshita was falling into thought. “Hmm… It seems a little strange for the audience to be calling out, when they’ve come to hear the music.”
“Well, it’s really about cheering them on. Though you do have to look for cues and check to see if you can do it or not right then…”
Views on fan chants differ depending on the person. Some people see them as an annoyance, while others value them as part of what makes the experience exciting. Of course, some believe that it depends on the song, so this is a matter to be treated with the utmost delicacy. If I may add further, sometimes the management establishes clear rules for it, so it’s recommended you look over all the rules when participating.
I could have gone on at length, but there was just one thing that was more important than all of that. “Of course, for a concert, as long as you’re not causing trouble for others, you can enjoy yourself in any way you want.”
Ultimately, what should be the greatest priority is that the performers and the audience all have a pleasant time. I would even call this the absolute ironclad rule.
My delivery might have been a bit too intense, but that made me sound all the more convincing. Yukinoshita blinked a few times, but then quickly broke into a smile. “I see. I understand now. Somehow.” With a sigh of satisfaction, she nodded.
Meanwhile, Isshiki was sighing for other reasons. “But being free to do what you want can be the hardest thing… Agh, seriously, what do we do for this event?” she muttered to herself. I was surprised to hear the concern in her voice, so I considered her question.
Though I said you could enjoy it how you pleased, that’s ultimately the mind-set for participating as an audience member. Those managing and planning an event have to see things from a different point of view. Saying “How you enjoy it is up to you!” may sound good, but that’s basically throwing everything on the guests. You have to consider how you want them to enjoy themselves, what areas you want them to enjoy, and how you’ll give them a good time.
If we looked at this big fest from the management angle, that should offer some hints. For example, this rest area was one element I would very much like them to incorporate, please. It’s comfortable to have a place like this at cultural festivals, too… You could even make all the classrooms spots to rest in. Then the classes won’t have to do any work at all.
So there were matters of hospitality to consider, but that would come after the content of the event was decided.
“Wait, what kind of event are you planning to have?” I asked.
Isshiki touched her index finger to her jaw, pondering as she began to talk. “I was thiiinking around next spring, it’d be nice if the student council could hold an event celebrating graduation or the school entrance ceremony. Wouldn’t it be nice to go all out for something fancy? It’s school money anyway, so it’s just a waste if we don’t use it, riiight?”
“Whoa, what a thing to say… That’s the worst reason for planning an event…” Isshiki’s rationale was just so out there, Komachi was jerking away in horror.
Isshiki pouted. “I don’t see a problem. We’re a public school; it’s tax money. It was my money to begin with.”
“It’s our money…,” Yukinoshita said, a little taken aback, while Yuigahama was smiling anxiously.
Only one of us, Tobe, was nodding like, Yeah, that’s Irohasu. He’s used to her, huh?
Leaving that aside, the time of year for the event was also a rather difficult issue. “Hmm… Spring, huh…?” I said. “Well, if you’re gonna do it, having it around graduation is best.”
“You think?” Isshiki asked.
“Yeah, entrance time isn’t great…”
My vague equivocations made Isshiki tilt her head. “Why’s that?”
“’Cause that’s right when all the new students are most excited and start doing dumb stuff. When you do something dumb in the first few days of school, the effects linger down the line.”
The time when you’ve just entered a new school is the most anxious period in particular. There’s nothing more painful than stumbling at the starting line. You’re only just stepping into a community, so the friendships that will become your lifelines haven’t entirely firmed up, while your attachment to the school itself is still weak. The temporary shame becomes too much, and you speedrun right into withdrawing from school. I’m very informed on the matter.
Perhaps too informed, in fact.
“That’s scarily convincing!” Yuigahama was vigorously agreeing.
“Right?” I nodded. “The first self-introductions at a new school are like that, too. It gets real bad when you screw up there.”
“Yeah, man, that’s a total disaster! It’s like, y’know? In the fest just now, that line when they first came onstage? That was a real crisis.” Tobe jabbed a finger at me, nodding like he was convinced.
Well, I feel slightly hesitant about likening a big-name artist MCing at a fest to a self-introduction at a new school, but in both cases, the first thing you say is important.
Komachi, as one about to start at our school herself, looked a bit bummed about this talk. “Now Komachi doesn’t feel as good about it…” Her expression seemed uneasy.
Yuigahama reacted with surprise. “Really? You seem like you’d be fine, Komachi-chan.”
Well, fair enough. When you’re a Komachi-class skilled communicator, then basic self-introductions should be a snap… What is she even worried about…?
Confused, I looked at Komachi to see her eyes were all wibbled up as she earnestly appealed to Yuigahama. “No, I’m not sure now! Could you show me an example? In a fest-like way! Just like how those idols in the show did it!”
The sudden wild request made Yuigahama flail in bewilderment. “Huh? Huh?”
Ahaaa, so this was what Komachi was after? She’s getting swept away in the excitement of the fest…
So I was thinking, but Isshiki also smirked. “Oh, I like that. Then introduce yourself, please.”
Yukinoshita put a hand to her lips and tittered. “Yes, you seem like you’d be good at that sort of thing. Why not do it for her?”
Meanwhile, Tobe was clapping his hands like, Yeah, c’mon, too, making it harder and harder for her to refuse.
“Huhhh… U-um, okay… Something fest-worthy, like those idols in the show…” Yuigahama’s eyebrows came together, and she closed her eyes, hmming as she considered something. From her muttering, it seemed she was trying to recall how the idols who’d just been onstage had introduced themselves.
Eventually, the image must have come together in her mind, as her eyes flashed open, and she put on a sparkling smile. And then with large, enthusiastic gestures, she called out, “Yahallo, everyone! All you guys say it, too! Yahallooo!” Then she cupped her hands around her ears and waited for a response.
If she was gonna wait like that, then we were forced to reply. When she did get some proper calls of “Yahallooo,” she nodded in satisfaction and waved her hands. “Okay, everyone, thanks! This is the aaalways cute, sometimes sexy, all-pink: Yuipon! I’m in charge of greetings!” She put her hands to her cheeks cutely and then her hands on her hips sexily, then spun her hands around into a sharp salute. They were pointlessly flawless idol gestures.
“Ohhh, whoa, she’s actually doing it.” Her arrogant manner aside, Isshiki was applauding.
Then that was followed by a thick-voiced cheer and an awfully deep voice.
“Whoaaa! Queeeen!”
“Yuipoooon!”
“Two otaku have entered the chat…”
The reactions from the two otaku…er, Tobe and Komachi were so on point, Isshiki was physically recoiling. Especially from Komachi, who had her face smooshed up as she called out in a deep voice.
Isshiki turned back to glance at me like, Aren’t these two kinda ugh?
But I was well beyond that.
“…Huh? Huh? Wait, huh, I can’t, I’m ded lol. I can’t even, too cute…,” I muttered in spite of myself in a near-inaudible whisper. “Huh, huh, wait. What just happened? Wait, I can’t. Huh? I could just, like, fall to the ground at any minute. Yeah, yeah, this is it—the people who come to idol shows, this is what they’re coming for. I could stan Yuipon for real.” I rambled on and on at ultra-high speed as Isshiki eyed me with utter disgust.
“A third otaku…” Isshiki seemed resigned, like These guys are lost. She looked to Yukinoshita for help.
“Rather than ‘in charge of greetings,’ ‘in charge of yahallo’ would be better.”
“And then over here is the producer…”
But Isshiki’s hopes were in vain, as Yukinoshita was standing there with her arms folded and going full producer, trying to enforce her own vision.
And then Yuigahama was taking her seriously, just like an idol. “Hmm, but yahallo is a greeting…”
“Someone you’ve never met before will sometimes not understand that it’s a greeting, won’t they? We’re used to hearing it, so we get it, but others might assume you’re making strange sounds, like an animal cry,” explained Yukinoshita.
“That’s how you thought of it?!”
“Oh, of course I thought of it as cute chirping. Very cute chirping.”
“You suck at backpedaling!”
There was no malice in Yukinoshita’s smile, but her backpedaling really did suck… You’d only ever see “Its chirping is cute!” as a selling point for a bird in a pet shop…
Even Isshiki couldn’t stand by and watch this anymore; she shrugged as if to say, Good grief. “Well, that was pretty mean, Yukino. So why don’t you give it a try?” she casually declared.
Yukinoshita froze. “Huh?!”
Looking over, I saw Isshiki’s mouth split open with a cruel chuckle.
“Oh, I wanna see it, I wanna see it. Oooh, clap, clap.”
“Clap, clap, clap, clap.”
Despite Yukinoshita’s confusion, Yuigahama and Komachi carried out a wonderful co-op move, applauding as if to say, I’ve been waiting for this!
After joining in on the earlier teasing and playing the producer just now, Yukinoshita couldn’t refuse. “Huh, huh? …F-fest-like? …Like an idol?” she muttered, holding her head in her hands and groaning.
Come on, guys, this is taking it too far. Don’t put Yukinoshita on the spot too much. She can’t take this. But I will not say so…since I do kinda wanna see?
With everyone’s expectations gathering around her, Yukinoshita hung her head awkwardly and then quickly arranged her bangs. She closed her eyes and let out a little breath, bit by bit getting herself in the mood. Crimson slowly grew on her cheeks until she eventually opened her dewy eyes.
“E-everyone! Good evening! Long black hair is the proof of intellect…and my theme color and heart are blue. I’m Yukinon, in charge of cool…” Following the template of the greeting Yuigahama had pulled off, Yukinoshita swished back her glossy black hair, touching her hand to her chest with a reserved smile. That idol gesture was too cute to be called cool, and it had a touch of passion.
“O-ohhh…”
She wasn’t just blushing, but red to her ears as she introduced herself. Silence fell around all of us.
Everyone was speechless, enchanted. Yukinoshita must have taken our silence as a lack of reaction, as her shoulders trembled in distress. And then she gave me a look of teary-eyed resentment, biting the edge of her pouting lip, before weakly hanging her head.
“…I want to die,” she muttered, hesitant and hoarse. The childish fragility of her words surprised everyone. I felt a dull stabbing like Urk! in my heart.
“Nah, dude, that was great!” Tobe offered her unstinting applause, and Yuigahama squeezed her tight.
“It was supercute! I love it!”
Though Yukinoshita looked bothered about being swept into her embrace, she finally let out a sigh. The relief eased the tension from her expression, and even squirming in embarrassment, she had a bashful smile on her face. “O-oh, really…?”
“Yeah!” said Isshiki. “It even made me think, Whoa, that lady’s on it; that’s playin’ dirty!”
“Whoa, you have a strange way of complimenting people. But it was actually cute! Right, Bro?”
But everything sounded so far away—Isshiki’s awful remarks and even Komachi addressing me.
When I didn’t say anything, Komachi gave me a questioning look. “…Bro?”
But there was nobody to answer her call.
Nothing but a corpse that wouldn’t speak as crickets chirped in the distance. Komachi gently shook the shoulder of that corpse.
No reply. It’s just a corpse.
“H-he’s dead…”
Hachiman Hikigaya. Age at death: seventeen years.
Cause of death: shot through the heart.
“B-Bro!” With that pained cry, Komachi shook my body back and forth.
Thanks to that, I somehow managed to regain consciousness. “…Ah!”
That was close. I just about died there from seeing something too absolutely precious. My grandma and grandpa who’re still alive were on this side of the Sanzu River, waving their hands good-bye… They were totally waving me off, huh…?
That really was close. If I die every time over things like this, I’m not gonna have enough lives no matter how many I get, am I? Is my life Spelunker or what?
Breathing a sigh of relief, I wiped the sweat off my forehead and pretended like nothing had happened. “…So what were we talking about again?”
Seeing my bewilderment, Isshiki told me with a bit of exasperation, “About introducing yourself at a new school.”
I pulled myself together and folded my arms with a hmm. “Ahhh, that. With self-introductions of that type, you can’t babble on too long. Getting it done quickly is ideal,” I expressed eloquently.
Komachi nodded with deep interest. “Oh-ho, I see. So why is that?”
“The reason is extremely simple… Chatty but socially inept is the most irritating type,” I said.
Socially inept doesn’t refer only to those who can’t talk. It can refer to everyone in general with difficulties in communication. Some of the socially inept will talk quite a lot, blabbing on and on when nobody is listening. There are also different subtypes: kids who talk too much simply because they can’t read the atmosphere, pretentious gorillas who like to assert dominance and like hearing the sound of their own voice, and also panickers who wind up babbling when they get nervous.
Compared with those chatty socially inept types, a radio that’s breaking down and you can’t hear anything from is somewhat preferable… Wait, if you can’t hear anything from it, that’s not breaking down. Isn’t that just broken?
Yukinoshita gave an mm-hmm as if my statement very much made sense to her, and then a soft smile rose to her lips. “That’s a rather good self-introduction. I think it would be even better if you said your name first next time.”
“Thanks for the advice. Does anyone have a mirror?” Could someone please lend that girl one?
I looked over to see Yuigahama with an awkward expression as she made an attempt to patch things up. “Um, it’s like, you know! You’re pretty much kinda like that, too, Yukinon!” she said.
Yukinoshita sulked. Making cute faces won’t get you anywhere. Make sure to reflect on your words, okay? I need to do that, too.
Anyway, if you’re going to talk, then you have to regulate yourself objectively.
If you don’t, then later, once your head has cooled and you look back on it, you’ll want to die! Ah, now I’m remembering, and it’s making me want to die.
My gaze pulled down on its own to land on Komachi’s face. She was looking like she found this a little difficult to comprehend. “Mm, I see… So what you choose to talk about is important. But then…Komachi can’t really be sure without seeing some specific examples. Glance.” And yes, she said glance out loud as she looked at me.
I decided to pretend I hadn’t heard that, whistling to myself in a deliberate sort of way, but Komachi just kept muttering, “Glance, glance, glance…” And then she tugged on my sleeve, too. “You give it a shot, too, Bro. Look, you can’t make just them do it.”
“You’re the one who made them…,” I said.
But Komachi just smiled like tee-hee-blep and clonked herself on the forehead. Maybe she felt guilty for having gotten carried away and for embarrassing Yuigahama and Yukinoshita.
Then shouldn’t you do it yourself, huhhhhh? This big bro will do just about anything my little sister asks. Aw geez! My Komachi-chan is so good at getting what she wants!
Even as I was thinking this, it was getting harder and harder to say no.
Yukinoshita folded her arms as if to say, Show me what you’ve got. Meanwhile, Yuigahama clapped, Komachi looked at me with sparkling eyes, and Tobe was saying “Dude, dude.”
As if coordinating the whole group, Isshiki cleared her throat and gestured to me. “Well then, introduction, please.”
“Uhhh, okay.”
Yuigahama and Yukinoshita had gone through such great hardships; I had to do it, too. But wasn’t Miss Gahama actually pretty into it? Eh, whatever.
I would soon be in my third year of high school. If I included my elementary school years, there had been about a total of ten opportunities for me to introduce myself for a new school year. Basing this on experience, I can say 80 percent of self-introduction failures are caused by overeagerness.
It’s important not to try (and fail) to be funny, but not be too apathetic, either—to talk about yourself plainly, as you are.
And so after going through my metaphysical entrance ceremony and facing my metaphysical classmates for the first time, I made my sensible self-introduction.
“My name is Hachiman Hikigaya.”
“That’s kinda like an introduction a main character would give…” Isshiki gave me a skeptical look.
“The sort of normal high school boy you’d see anywhere.”
“A protagonist…” Yukinoshita’s brows drew together. “Completely ordinary, living a boring but peaceful life every day.”
“That’s a main character…” My fake self-intro made Yuigahama smile wryly.
“…But then one day I suddenly meet the mysterious fairy Loneron, and suddenly on the first day of school, I become a loner! What’s gonna happen to me now?!” I cried.
“Wait, is this PreCure?!” Yuigahama cried, jerking away in part surprise, part exasperation, and part distress, with double the feeling.
Uh, that’s just how self-intros are. That’s what they always do in the scene before the OP, right?
But I didn’t have the time to explain that before Isshiki waved her hands in front of her chest as if to say, No way, no way. “Come on, you didn’t need the bit about the mysterious fairy there.”
Yukinoshita also added with a smile, “The question isn’t what’s going to happen—it’s what’s already happened to his head.”
“Harsh!”
As Miss Gahama said, their grading was pretty severe. Even Tobe was taken aback like, “Dude…”
Meanwhile, the one who’d dumped this nonsense on me seemed quite satisfied with herself. “Mm-hmm. Your intro was frankly pretty eh, but it’s useful for reference! Komachi has the feeling school will work out somehow!” she said as she pumped her fist in a triumphant pose.
Oh-hooo, verily sooo? I’m terribly concerned as to what part of that self-intro will be useful to her, and how.
Komachi, however, ignored my unease and contemplated her new beginning. “Finally, Komachi will be going to school with Yukino and Yui. Komachi’s really looking forward to it!”
“Me too!”
“Yes, we’ll be waiting for you at school.”
Watching the three of them together chattering like that, Isshiki made a noise like mggg as she watched. “Ngk… My position as youngest…” Isshiki gritted her teeth. Apparently, she had some very particular concerns.
Tobe attempted to console her. “C’mon, dude, it’s a good thing to have someone younger around. It’s like…having people rely on me gets me motivated? I just always end up indulging ’em. Like treating them to food and stuff.” He was fully playing the reliable elder as he proudly mussed the hair at the back of his head.
But when you’re as approachable as Tobe is, I’m sure that does help the younger kids in a lot of ways. He might actually be a really dependable senior.
So I was thinking, but it seems not so! Isshiki cut him right down with a chilly gaze and a low tone. “Agh, well, that’s just people sending you on errands ’cause they have no respect for you.”
Tobe instantly froze. “Huh? For real?”
“For real.”
“…Dude…” Tobe didn’t say anything to that sharp and cutting truth from Isshiki. All he could do was muss at his collar.
U-um, hey, I think that’s one of the things that makes you a good senior… If you weren’t, then Irohasu wouldn’t be able to be so brutally honest. I think that might mean she’s just opened her heart to you that much…
When I was hesitating as to whether I should try to be supportive and say that, suddenly Komachi spun to face me. Then she gave Isshiki a cutesy grin. “Eh-heh, please take care of me. ”
It was so sudden, Isshiki’s expression went blank. She blinked a couple of times, then cleared her throat quietly. “Hrm… Well, maybe it’s not bad to have someone younger around,” she said as she looked away. It seemed she was flattered by the prospect of someone looking up to her. I cracked a crooked smile as she quietly finger-combed some of her hair over her ears.
“So watch out for her, if anything happens,” I said.
Isshiki and Komachi would be together a year longer than the rest of us, with our graduation waiting in the spring. Such a connection with an older girl should be encouraging…, I thought, nodding with my arms folded like an old kung fu master.
Isshiki gave me a skeptical look. “Agh, you can ask me for whatever, but there isn’t much I can d—” Then she must have realized something, as she cut off there. She jerked backward, flapping her hands hastily as she rattled off quickly, “Ah! Were you just hitting on me, ’cause like it’s not so bad if you’re casually proposing and implying like ‘please take care of my little sister,’ but now that I think about it being youngest is the juiciest position so I’m sorry.” Then she bobbed her head in a clean bow.
Satisfied by that, I nodded a couple of times. “Yeah, sure.”
Isshiki would come up with these nonsense reasons to reject me in seconds over every little thing, completely unprompted. It had enabled me to ignore it from the start.
But Isshiki seemed unsatisfied, as she was puffing up her cheeks sulkily and pouting. “There it is—you’re not listening again…”
“It’d be crazier to actually listen to something like that… I did give you an answer, like Yeah, sure.” At this point, it’s just a basic conversational flow task; topics roll up on the conveyor belt in front of me, and I plop little dandelions like I get that and For sure on top of them. Though it’s trash labor that doesn’t pay.
But those thoughts must have been totally obvious, as Isshiki breathed a resigned sigh. “Well, I suppose that’s true…”
“Yeah, yeah, for sure,” I agreed carelessly, and Komachi made an oh-hooo sound like she was somehow super-impressed. There was a sparkle in her eyes as she watched Isshiki and me.
Then Komachi timidly addressed Isshiki. “Ummm…”
“Yes? What is it, Okome-chan?” Isshiki said with a long-suffering sigh.
Komachi clasped her hands together in a praying gesture and said sweetly, with wibbly eyes, “Could I call you ‘big sister’? I could even start with ‘provisional’ and then go from there on a case-by-case basis?”
“Why?! I don’t wanna! That assessment seems like a huge hassle!” Isshiki refused flatly.
But Komachi ignored her so hard, it was refreshing. “In ancient times, people said: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and trash for trash… You’re the best option, according to that old adage. If nothing else. In a sense, you’re actually the ideal big sister—in a sense.”
“Huh? What the heck is she talking about…? And that doesn’t feel like a compliment at all…” Isshiki eyed my spellbound and dreamy sister distrustfully. Her nose was wrinkled in the classic expression of being weirded out.
But Komachi completely ignored that, too. “You know, Komachi doesn’t need a brother at all times, so I was thinking I’d like a big sister…since that would ultimately be best for him… My concern is worth a lot of Komachi points.”
“Oh? It is? But you said you don’t need a brother, so doesn’t that mean it scores pretty low?” I shot back. The debt you incurred on the first half was so big, you can’t repay it on the latter half anymore, can you? You should reconsider where you’re allotting your points, okay? But it seems that point allotment is highly subjective.
Unexpectedly, Yuigahama and Yukinoshita started muttering to themselves. “Komachi-chan as a little sister…might be nice.”
“Me as a big sister… That’s not so bad.”
When they noticed they’d spoken at the same time, they looked at each other. “Huh?”
“Oh?”
They stared at each other wordlessly—one smiling boldly, one smiling arrogantly. Somehow that brief confrontation felt very, very long.
“Whoa, this is definitely gonna be a hassle…,” Isshiki muttered quietly in the perilous air that hung around them.
Even Tobe was mussing the hair at the back of his head as he scrambled for an excuse. “Dude… Ah! The artist I came for is coming soon; gotta go!” Before he’d even finished his sentence, he scampered off as fast as he could.
Isshiki yelled after him. “Ah, hey! Why’re you running away?!”
“Dude!” Tobe cried over his shoulder as he ran. His escape speed and his crisis-detection abilities were excellent—he was moving like the comic relief character who would survive to the end in a Hollywood movie.
Isshiki let out a loud “Agh,” then clapped her hands to get herself back in the mood. “Okay! We can talk more about this next time! So let’s wrap this up, too!” she said with extra cheer, cutting in between Yukinoshita and Yuigahama. The fest was approaching the latter half. This would be the perfect time to end our break.
I went wholeheartedly in on Isshiki’s suggestion. “Y-yeah. It’s that time anyway,” I said, and Yuigahama and Yukinoshita glanced over at the clock. Then they looked at each other again and exchanged warm smiles.
The tension relaxed all at once, and Yuigahama stretched wide. “Yeah! We’re almost at the climax of the fest after all!”
“…Well then, let’s enjoy the second half as much as the first,” Yukinoshita said with a calm smile.
“Whoo!” Komachi thrust a fist high.
With that as our signal, we left the rest area and started heading back to the hall.
Perhaps it was thanks to a full break, or perhaps their hearts were racing in anticipation of the climax of the fest, but the girls’ steps were buoyant.
The lights spilling out from the performance hall hit their silhouettes walking a few steps ahead of me, and it was so bright, it made me squint.
Their long shadows did not stay in one place, wavering back and forth, fuzzy and fading into their surroundings, but they were clearly overlapping.
The moment I saw that, my feet stopped—I’d uncharacteristically found myself wanting to look at them a little longer.
“Hikigaya, what are you doing? We’ll leave you behind.” Yukinoshita turned to question my pause, while beside her, Yuigahama was waving her arms wide.
“Hikki, hurry, hurry!”
“You’re too sloooow.” Isshiki was aggressively sullen.
“Big Bro, let’s go, let’s go!” Komachi hopped up and down, beckoning to me.
How many more times would I get to see them all lined up together?
There was only a little time left. Eventually, the seasons would pass, and a fleeting parting awaited us when spring visited once more.
The festival time would not last forever, either. That inevitable end is what makes a festival a festival.
Turn it the other way, and you can say that all things that end eventually are festivals.
So then—
—even these days of nothing are a kind of festival.
They are our fest.
I’m sure they’re singular occurrences, things that happen only once in a lifetime: unique, ultimate experiences.
Someone long ago once said Chiba is famous for festivals and dancing. There are idiots who dance and idiots who watch, so if you’re an idiot like the rest, you’ve got to dance and sing a song.
It truly is a wise saying.
I chuckled under my breath. “Yeah, I’m coming.”
Then I headed to the finale, where the headliner was waiting.
I strode off to the performance hall where I could watch the awesome climax with my own eyes. Where they waited.
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