Yahari Ore no Seishun Love Come wa Machigatte Iru - Volume 7 - Chapter 9

9

His and her confessions will reach no one.

One by one, the lanterns lit up on the path of the bamboo woods. The dim white lights illuminated the fresh green stalks, a few paces between each glow. The sun set, and when the moon rose, a pale aura enveloped the area.

If you could visualize kindness, I’m sure it would look something like this.

This mix of coincidence and calculation had been staged, dramatized, and beautifully packaged into the very picture of benevolence itself.

This was the stage that had been set for Tobe.

Everyone was telling little lies in order to construct this situation.

Yuigahama had been the one to call Ebina out here. She’d probably made up some kind of excuse and brought her here.

Ooka and Yamato must have had their own thoughts on the matter. This wasn’t purely about supporting Tobe—they were getting a great show out of this, though they hid it behind their meek expressions.

Even Miura, who wasn’t there, knew what was about to happen, though she didn’t ask about it, didn’t stop it, and was clearly pretending not to notice it.

Hayama wanted to be supportive but couldn’t be. But regardless, he was there.

They were all lying.

The only one of them who wasn’t lying, Yukinoshita, was blank-faced in a rather colder manner than usual.

In the deepest part of the bamboo forest path, we awaited Ebina’s arrival.

Hayama, Ooka, and Yamato were committing to staying out of Tobe’s way. Tobe was taking deep breaths, staring down the path. When I went to go talk to him, he was stiff from the anxiety of staying ready for her to come at any moment.

“Tobe,” I said.

“H-Hikitani… Agh, man… I really can’t take any more of this…” He smiled at me awkwardly.

“Hey, what’ll you do if she says no?”

“Come on, isn’t that pretty harsh to say right before I’m about to tell her? Huh, that actually made me less nervous… I get it—you’re tryin’ to test my determination again?”

“Look, just answer me already. Ebina’s about to come,” I said more harshly than I’d meant to. I couldn’t handle his jokes.

Tobe must have realized this, and his expression turned somber. “…Well, I wouldn’t give up.” His gaze was somewhere beyond the bamboo forest. “I’m not a really serious guy, you know? So I’ve only ever had nonserious relationships. But I’m pretty serious this time.”

That was all it took for me to understand. This was why I could say what I really thought, no lies, no deception. “…All right. Then do your best, right till the very end.”

“Yeah! You’re a good guy after all, Hikitani.” Tobe whacked my back.

“I’m not, you moron.” I shook off his hand and returned the way I’d come. We were on standby in a spot right after a curve in the path, where it would be hard for Ebina to see us when she came from the other direction.

Upon my return, Yuigahama said, “So you can be nice, Hikki.”

“What brought this about?” Yukinoshita added. Both of them smiled as they teased me.

“You’ve got it wrong, seriously. At this rate, Tobe’s gonna get rejected,” I replied to them.

Their expressions fell a little. “You may be right,” Yukinoshita agreed.

“Yeah…”

That was why I knew what to say to deal with that. “There is actually a way to settle this all without conflict.”

“How?” Yuigahama asked me, tilting her head a bit.

But frankly, I didn’t really want to say it.

Yukinoshita must have sensed my hesitation. She breathed a short sigh and cracked a little smile. “…Well, we’ll leave it to you.”

Yukinoshita nodded in response. I was grateful they weren’t asking.

As we spoke, Ebina came into view. Yuigahama’s invitation had done its work.

We sent Tobe off from the corner of the path.

Passing the evenly spaced lanterns one by one, Ebina approached him.

Tobe greeted her with a nervous look.

“Um…”

“Yeah…” Ebina’s reaction was tepid.

Just watching them from a distance started up a dull pain in my chest.

First of all, Tobe was going to be rejected.

And then the two of them would avoid each other’s eyes in the classroom, put on fake smiles, and gradually become more guarded and distant around each other, until finally they just stopped associating at all. Or he might keep trying until they were shuffled into new classes. But the eventual ending was the same.

But even if it wasn’t going to happen now, just maybe, things could be different further down the line. Did Tobe understand that possibility? Did he understand he was risking their current relationship? He had to be at least a little prepared for that.

But what about everyone else?

Tobe wasn’t the only one who saw that relationship as important. Other people in their lives were stakeholders, too.

That was why she’d made that request.

That was what was causing this distress for him.

The wishes of third parties had come together. They didn’t want to lose this. Maybe the arrows were pointed in different directions, but they were similar in that they wanted the same goal.

“I, um…”

“…” Ebina didn’t reply. She politely laid her hands in front of her, listening quietly. She wore a clear and robotic smile.

Yeah, it’s just the look I imagined she’d have.

If I was to pull off this request somehow, there was just one escape route I could use. I could keep Tobe from being rejected while also maintaining the relationships of their group and ensuring they could all still be friends.

There really was only one way.

The important thing was timing—and the impact of this special move.

You hit them with something outside the realm of their awareness, something that knocks everything topsy-turvy. Think—what would gain the most interest? What could give someone the initiative? What could change the atmosphere here in an instant?

Good grief. It drives me nuts that all I can think of is this cheap trick. Not to mention that it’s a trick Zaimokuza got me with just recently. Ugh, feeling indebted to him feels gross.

“L-listen…,” Tobe stuttered, screwing up his determination.

By then, I was already moving.

Ebina’s shoulders twitched at his words.

Just over ten more steps.

Tobe paused a second and looked at Ebina.

Would I make it?

Ebina’s eyes moved to a lantern at her feet.

If I’m going to say it, now’s the time.

“I’ve liked you for a long time. Please go out with me.”

Ebina’s eyes went round when she heard it.

Of course. I was startled, too.

As was Tobe.

His mouth was hanging open, since I’d stolen the words he’d meant to say.

Ebina was confused to hear a confession from me, but she quickly came up with the correct response. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to date anyone right now. No matter who confesses to me, there’s no way I’ll date them. If this is over, I’m going, okay?” She gave a head bob of a bow, then ran off at a trot.

Tobe was frozen, mouth still hanging open. Having lost his moment, he couldn’t say what he was supposed to say—or anything at all. His head slowly jerked around toward me.

“There you have it,” I said with a shrug.

He combed his hair back and looked at me with reproach. “Hikitani…that’s not fair… I mean, it’s good I found that out before I got rejected, but…” Not fair, not fair, he said over and over, like he was an animal and those two words were his cry.

Then Hayama, who must have been watching from close by to see how things would go, walked up to poke Tobe lightly in the head. “That just means it’s not the right time yet. Right now, it’s fine to simply enjoy things as they are, isn’t it?”

“Well, I guess. But, like, she said right now, right?” Tobe gave a little sigh. And then he dragged the soles of his shoes over to me and bopped my chest with his fist. “Hikitani, sorry, but I’m not gonna let you beat me.” With a charming grin on his face, he pointed at me, then walked off toward where Ooka and Yamato were standing, apparently satisfied, where they baptized him with arms slung over shoulders and whacks on the back.

Hayama went after Tobe, too. As we passed by each other, quietly, so that only I could hear, he said, “Sorry.”

“Don’t you dare apologize.”

“I knew this was the only way you know how to handle things, but…I’m sorry.” His expression was one of pity—not contempt or scorn. Just sympathy for the abject.

My fist wanted to fly out in shame and anger, but I kept it in check. Even after Hayama was gone from my sight, that look was still branded clearly in my eyes.

They all left in a hurry, and suddenly, everything felt colder.

The only ones left were me, Yukinoshita, and Yuigahama. I was a little far off from the both of them. Relieved it was finally over, I walked toward them so we could leave.

But Yukinoshita just stood there stiffly, glaring at me. Her cold, accusing look slowed my feet.

Come on, don’t be such a bully. What Hayama said just now actually hit me pretty hard.

But of course, she couldn’t tell how I was feeling. The bladelike glint in her eyes never dulled. Yuigahama was just looking down uncomfortably beside her.

“…I hate the way you do things,” Yukinoshita finally said when I was within a few steps of her. She pressed a hand against her chest and glared at me. Emotions that had nowhere to go were welling in her eyes. “It’s so frustrating that I can’t quite explain this properly, but…I really hate the way you do things.”

“Yukinon…” Yuigahama gave Yukinoshita the most pained look. I heard her swallow, and then she lowered her eyes again.

When I didn’t reply, Yukinoshita opened her mouth like she had something to say, but nothing came out. She bit her lips as if to keep them shut. Red leaves danced in the wind, and Yukinoshita’s eyes moved away from me to follow them.

“…I’m going back now,” she said icily, then walked past me. She must have wanted to leave as soon as possible, as she was walking faster than usual. I could start after her now, but I wouldn’t catch up.

Yuigahama smiled weakly. “I—I guess I’ll go, too.” She sounded like she did when she was forcing herself to act cheerful. At least that was easy to understand.

“…Yeah,” I answered, starting to walk away. Yuigahama followed after me, one step behind. She chattered on in an attempt to bury the inevitable silence. “Man, that strategy was awful, huh? I mean, it sure was a surprise, and it did take away her chance to reject him.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“But yeah. It really startled me. For a second, I thought you were serious.”

“Of course I wasn’t.”

“Of course not. Ah-ha-ha…”

Our vague conversation continued, and when we drew near the path’s exit, Yuigahama’s footsteps stopped. “But…” When she started another sentence, I stopped, too. Suddenly, she tugged my sleeve, and I turned around without thinking. “But…don’t…do anything like that again…okay?”

I wanted her to stop smiling like that. I couldn’t stand to see something so pained and pitiful. Without a word, I averted my eyes.

That smile took more of a toll on me than the pity or the anger directed at me.

“It was the most efficient way to do it. That’s all.” It was the only thing that would come out of my mouth. I could have explained it in more logical terms. I knew I could use the fanciest rhetorical flourishes to rationalize what I’d done. But the words just coiled up in the pit of my stomach and rotted there.

“It’s not about being efficient…” Her head was hanging, but I could still hear her voice clearly.

“Some people here don’t want things resolved. Of course, they’d prefer things stay the way they are, so it isn’t going to work out for everyone. So then you have no choice but to find a way to compromise, somehow.” As I spoke, I became aware of it myself: Agh, this is just mincing words. It was just an excuse to falsely lay the responsibility for what I’d done on the shoulders of some formless someone. It was what I hated most in the world: deceit.

Yuigahama had to realize that.

There was a sniffling sound.

“Tobecchi didn’t get rejected, Hayato and all the guys are on good terms as far as I can tell, and Hina doesn’t have to worry about it, either… Now, tomorrow, things can be like they always were. Maybe we’ll just move on, and nothing will change.” Her trembling voice kept me from arguing. Her shaking fingertips would not let me move.

Unable to face her head-on, all I could do was stay silent and still.

“But… But…” For an instant, her fingers released their gentle hold on the hem of my blazer, but then she grabbed it again, with more force this time. “…You should…consider people’s feelings more,” she said, and I could faintly hear her breathing. “…You understand so many things, so why can’t you get that?”

I do understand. I know that if things change, you can’t go back.

No matter what it becomes, you can’t take it back. I could say that for certain.

But my blazer felt really heavy now that Yuigahama was holding it. She wasn’t that strong, but the weight was tremendous. Heavy enough to crush me, it felt.

“I hate that,” she muttered feebly, and then like a little girl’s, her grip slid off.

She took one, two steps away from me.

I couldn’t follow her.

I…just looked at the sky.

The pale, shining bamboo forest tunnel was cold and clear enough to freeze me solid.

I couldn’t see the moon anymore.

You can see out over the city from the roof of Kyoto Station.

There’s a mix of modern buildings with temples and shrines, blended with the bustle of people.

A city can maintain what it’s had for a thousand years, but it still changes from day to day.

It’s extolled as the imperial city of a millennium, and yet, it changes. They glorify it because it doesn’t change. People love it because its fundamental nature, its core, has been preserved faithfully for all this time.

In other words, doesn’t that mean that no matter how something might be distorted, its true essence will never change?

So then human personalities won’t change, either. They can’t change. This is nothing other than evidence that they can’t.

But I want to believe that, often, the right thing is to stay the same.

It was the final day of the school field trip. We just had a little bit of time to wait for the Shinkansen. I wasn’t window-shopping for souvenirs but waiting here for someone.

I could see her going to the trouble of climbing the long outside stairs. She had whispered in my ear as she’d passed by me on the bus to Kyoto Station.

“Hello, hello~. Did I keep you waiting?”

I replied with a shake of my head.

She had shoulder-length black hair and thin-framed red glasses with clear eyes behind them. She was petite in both face and body. She would make for a great picture sitting behind a library counter.

The person who had made this recent request of me, Hina Ebina, was standing there. “I figured I’d say my thanks,” she said.

“You don’t need to. The issue you came to us about hasn’t been resolved,” I replied briefly, then turned my gaze back to the city of Kyoto.

But I heard her voice from behind me. “Superficially. But he understood, didn’t he?”

“…”

Silence was my only reply.

I saw Ebina as an irregular presence.

She acted bubbly, but she was actually quite canny, and that was exactly what made me want to read into the things she said.

A quiet-looking girl who has no qualms about approaching me sets off my alarm bells. My middle school–era experiences have taught me to habitually try to find the hidden meaning behind the words and actions of girls like this.

Which was why it seemed off to me that she flaunted her slash fangirl side, and when she came to consult with the Service Club, it made me want to speculate as to her true motives.

Her request that we make sure the guys were closer, in other words, meant she wanted the boys distanced from herself, and she wanted to prevent Tobe from confessing his feelings to her.

She’d probably asked not only the Service Club to do this but also Hayama. Which was why Hayama had been so conflicted and half-assed about helping us.

“Thanks for this. You’ve been a big help.” Her cheerful tone made me turn around, and I saw her smiling with seeming relief.

But if she can smile like that, she has to be capable of more, too, I thought, and something I didn’t need to say rolled out of my mouth anyway. “…Tobe’s a useless piece of trash, but I think he’s a good guy.”

“It’s not going to happen! You get that, right, Hikitani? If I dated anyone now, it wouldn’t go well.”

“That’s not—”

“Sure it is,” Ebina interrupted. “Because I’m rotten.” Her smile was frozen, and her excuse sounded just like someone else’s.

“…Guess that’s that, then.”

“Yes it is. Nobody can understand, and I don’t want them to. That’s why I can’t have a decent relationship.”

Was this ultimately about her hobbies, or about her? Well, it wasn’t something for me to ask.

We exchanged little smiles, and then she poked her glasses up. The glare on her lenses hid her expression from me. “But,” she added, lifting her face. Her cheeks were a little red, and she wore her usual bright smile. “Maybe things could work out, if I dated you.”

“Don’t even joke. If you throw around comments like that, I might inadvertently fall for you.”

If someone else had been here and heard such a terrible attempt at humor, they would’ve burst out laughing. Ebina laughed, too, shoulders shaking as if it were the funniest thing. “I kinda like the way you can be honest with people you don’t give a damn about.”

“What a coincidence. I kinda like that about myself, too.”

“I kinda like the way I can just spout off things I don’t mean, too.”

We both puffed out our chests with gloomy smiles.

“You know, I’m happy with the way I am now and how things are going in my life. It’s been a long time since things have been like this, so I don’t really want to lose it. I enjoy where I am and who I’m with.” Ebina’s gaze was pointed far away, toward the bottom of the big stairs. I couldn’t see anything there, but she must have been looking at someone.

Ebina descended the stairs one at a time, eyes carefully at her feet as she added, right before she left—

“That’s why I hate myself.”

In silence, I watched Ebina’s small back grow distant.

I looked for the words to say to her, but I couldn’t think of anything.

I couldn’t praise or blame anyone for small lies they tell themselves.

You care about it, you don’t want to lose it—so you hide and play pretend.

That’s exactly why you’re sure to lose it.

And then, once you have, you mourn it. If you’d only known you were going to lose it, then it’d be better not to have had it in the first place, you think. If letting go makes you feel so much regret, you should have given up on it.

In a changing world, some relationships probably have to change, too. And I’m sure some will end up broken so badly they can’t be repaired.

That’s why everyone lies.

—But I was the biggest liar of all.