3
Once more, Hachiman Hikigaya asks himself.
In the classroom after school, I breathed a big sigh.
I had to go to the meeting at the community center to help Isshiki later that day.
I wasn’t particularly bothered about that, though.
Being a part of these meetings was a pain right now, but Kaihin High School was running things. That meant those of us from Soubu would merely do as we were told. The brainstorming session had enlivened discussion, and motivation was high. “Intellectualness” was high, too.
But the thing that bothered me was the Soubu High School student council. Judging from how things had gone the day before, I couldn’t say our representatives were functioning well. And the biggest factor there was likely the rocky relationship between Isshiki and the rest of student council.
It seemed having a first-year as the president presented more of a burden than expected. She was only one year younger, but a gap of one year is pretty big for us high schoolers. Both parties clearly felt that distance, and that reservation and anxiety seemed to be getting in the way of their interactions.
It’d be nice if I could have helped with that, but that was a problem for Isshiki and the student council. It wasn’t a problem I could solve. I couldn’t even handle our club of merely three people.
Besides, it wasn’t a huge issue, as things stood. We just had to make it to Christmas.
The student council had been formed only recently. Eventually, they’d reach acquiescence—otherwise known as getting used to it.
Considering this, I breathed another sigh.
There was still some time before the meeting would start. Until then, I’d be in the clubroom. I wasn’t telling Yukinoshita and Yuigahama about helping Isshiki, so I had to show up for now. I didn’t want to make them suspicious by skipping all of a sudden.
That clubroom was empty. I was sure it’d be best not to bring in anything more.
But still, showing up only to head out to some unspecified task… It wasn’t as if I had anything to do there, but being on standby was part of the job, too. So it could be harder than expected.
The Reality Marble that I’d learned without even realizing it, Unlimited Double Works, has activated… It seems a bizarre double life is about to begin…
Breathing a short sigh, I heaved up from my chair.
Yuigahama had already left the classroom. It wasn’t as if we went to the clubroom together every single time. I think both of us were certain the other would go. That was how it had been so far, and how it would continue to be.
Leaving the classroom, I walked down the hallway to the special-use building.
It was unquestionably getting colder over time, but it really is hard to sense a clear difference over the course of just a day or two. The chilly hallway I walked through that day wasn’t really much chillier than the day before. You won’t sense the moment that the crisp late autumn turns into winter on a day-to-day basis.
So the clubroom down this hallway was probably indeed colder than it had been the day before. We simply hadn’t noticed.
Putting my hand on the door of the clubroom, I went inside.
“Oh, Hikki.”
“Hey.” With a casual greeting to Yuigahama and Yukinoshita, I sat down in my chair.
I glanced around the clubroom.
Yukinoshita returned her gaze to her paperback, while Yuigahama was having a staring contest with her cell phone. As I’d expected, it wasn’t much different from the day before.
One chair was by the window. One chair maintained a confused distance from it, not too close and not too far. And one chair was placed on a diagonal from that window seat, facing away.
The other chairs were piled up with the desks we didn’t use.
The thin cover of dust on those desks and the small mountain of finished books indicated the passage of a small span of time.
Yuigahama said something to Yukinoshita, and they had their usual exchange. With the sound of their trivial conversation in my ears, I picked up a paperback.
This was the daily scene we had been reenacting over and over these past few days. Nothing off could be detected here. You couldn’t say anything had changed.
All that was different from before was the number of times I checked the clock.
I looked up without moving my upper body, shoulders, or neck—only my eyes. I took quiet, surreptitious glances, so as not to reveal what I was doing.
How many times had I done that, over and over? The long hand wouldn’t move like I wanted it to, but finally, it arrived at the position I’d been waiting for.
The girls were discussing a different topic from a moment ago. After I was sure of their cheerful voices and peaceful smiles, I slowly exhaled.
“Oh yeah… Can I go home early today?” I asked, quietly closing my paperback.
The girls both stopped talking and looked at me. “Huh?”
It was a little early for sunset. Normally, we’d still be in the clubroom at this time.
Yuigahama must have felt this was strange, as she looked confused when she asked, “You’re leaving kind of early today. Do you have something?”
“…Yeah. My mom asked me to reserve some fried chicken,” I replied. The first reason that came to mind popped out of me. I had in fact been asked to do that, so on my way back, I’d stop by the KFC.
Yuigahama nodded as if that made sense to her. “Oh, reservations, huh?”
“Yeah, for Christmas. The party tubs are supposed to be pretty popular, so it’s best to do it early. Though Komachi did it last year.”
“Oh yes, she’s studying for entrance exams now, isn’t she?” Yukinoshita said in acknowledgment.
“That’s the deal. So see you.”
“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” Yuigahama called out to me as I stood up.
Yukinoshita added, “Say hello to Komachi for me.” I replied to the both of them with a casually raised hand, then left the clubroom. Behind me, Yuigahama now started saying this and that about Komachi’s entrance exams.
In the silent hallway, even through the division of the door, I could faintly hear both their voices. They tugged at my back as I left.
As soon as I was out of the school building, I headed to the community center.
Parking my bicycle in the lot, I walked a few steps and hefted up the bag on my shoulder, though it wasn’t particularly heavy.
When I got to the entrance, I heard footsteps running to me from behind.
“Hiiiiiiiii!” With that call, there was a tmp and a light impact on my back. Even without turning around, I knew who it was. There’s only one person who uses that tone, and aside from my little sister, Komachi, the only person who would do something like this is Iroha Isshiki.
“Hey,” I replied, turning around, and the owner of that voice was exactly who I expected. She was puffing up her cheeks in a grumpy pout as she gave me a little glare. “That’s a real nonreaction…”
“I mean, that thing you do is so manipulative…” And besides, I’m used to it from Komachi…
“Nawww, of course I’m sincere!” Isshiki pressed a hand to her cheek bashfully.
Uh, you don’t have to be so deliberately calculating about it…, I thought, looking over at what Isshiki carried to see she had a bag full of snacks and plastic bottles that day, too.
Wordlessly, I reached out as if to say, Give that here.
Isshiki looked a bit surprised by the hand reaching out to her but then giggled and handed over the bag. “But, like, I think what you’re doing is pretty manipulative, too…,” she teased.
“Naw, of course I’m sincere!” Tragically, my big brother skill activated on auto. Doing something like that consciously would make me so embarrassed my hands would sweat. Agh, and once I was conscious of it, my hands were suddenly slimy.
As we conversed, we entered the same lecture room as the day before, and I saw everyone from Kaihin and Soubu was already there.
“Oh, Iroha-chan.” The student council president of the other school, Tamanawa, raised his hand and called out to Isshiki.
“Hellooo!” she replied as she sat down in the same seat as the day before, and I followed.
It seemed we were the last to arrive. Everyone sat down in their chairs one after another, and all eyes gathered on Tamanawa.
“Right. Then let’s get started. Thanks again for coming, everyone.” After Tamanawa made his introductory remarks, the meeting began.
First, Tamanawa confirmed the record of proceedings that we’d put together the day before. He whaled away on his MacBook Air like clackity-clackity-SMACK, until he seemed to get eyestrain, pressing the bridge of his nose, and opened his mouth. “Hmm, I think things still aren’t quite solidified, so let’s continue with the brainstorming from yesterday.”
Uh, this is beyond “not quite.” We had no idea what you were talking about in that meeting yesterday. And that had made the record of proceedings incredibly abstract.
I hope we can write a proper record of proceedings today, I thought as I listened to the meeting.
Kaihin got the ball rolling.
“This is a special opportunity, so it’d be nice to do something fancier.”
“Yeah! That’s a good idea. Like, something big, you know?”
Turning to look toward the familiar-sounding voice, I saw that the sudden, enthusiastic agreement had come from Orimoto.
Tamanawa gave his MacBook Air a serious look. “…It’s true, we may have arranged something too small.”
Huh? Really? Something got arranged? I looked at the record of proceedings, but I only saw stuff about utilizing strategic thinking and the rational formation of ideas, or whatever.
Maybe they’d decided something I didn’t know about, off somewhere else. A little uneasy, I said to Isshiki, beside me, “Hey… I don’t know what we’re doing…”
“…Well, nothing specific has been decided,” she replied quietly, slightly exasperated.
As for what had been decided currently, that was just the date, the place, and the goal.
The event was set for Christmas Eve in the large hall of the community center, with the goal of facilitating volunteer work to contribute to the local area. It would be a Christmas event for the kids at the preschool and the elderly at the senior center right next door.
But the most important thing—the actual activity—had not been decided.
I’d assumed we would now be discussing the concept and direction of that activity, but I wasn’t getting that sense at all.
“So I figure we should scale it up a little.” Tamanawa did a general summation of their opinions, then asked Isshiki, “What do you think?”
“Hmm, I guess so.” When he asked her opinion, Isshiki smiled sunnily and answered vaguely. Tamanawa smiled back, apparently taking that as a yes.
Then from nearby, I heard a sigh. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it was from the vice president.
I agreed.
Even if I was merely the humble helper, I didn’t want my workload blindly and indiscriminately increased. I had to make sure to argue against this. “Isshiki, we don’t have the time or the manpower to do anything bigger.” There was no point in addressing the room, since I was nothing more than one simple laborer, so I had meant to only whisper in her ear. Then our side’s representative, Isshiki, would speak for me.
But it seemed Tamanawa had heard that, too.
“No, no, don’t be like that.” With some rather sweeping gestures, Tamanawa began to instruct not just me but everyone present. “When brainstorming, you don’t reject opinions. If issues of time or personnel prevent expansion, then we ask how we manage that. That’s how we develop the discussion. You can’t come to any conclusions right away. That’s why your opinion is invalid.”
O-okay… You rejected my opinion fairly instantly, considering…
Tamanawa gave me a charming, nice-guy smile. “Let’s discuss how to make it possible!”
So you’ve already decided to scale it up…?
Nobody objected to Tamanawa’s proposal. Or rather, his speech just now had prohibited any negative opinions from being raised.
After that, we heard several ideas on how to scale up the feel of the event and how to actualize it.
“How about involving the local community?”
“We aim to close the generation gap.”
Though I was basically recording the events of the meeting, we kept getting proposals I wasn’t sure whether to write down or not.
“Why don’t we bring in more of the nearby high schools?” Yet another idea from Kaihin.
Come on now; why do overly compensating (lol) types want to do things as groups so badly? I wonder if their intellect was so high, it caused them to ascend to another dimension, leading them to dream that they had become part of the Data Overmind.
But there was no benefit to be had in including additional high schools. It was already unmanageable as it was, and most of all, if any more people got into this with more ideas, nothing would ever get resolved. And there would certainly be even more work, too. That was the one thing I had to avoid…
But if I were to simply reject that idea, my objection would be crushed again. What could I do to avoid that?
…I have no choice.
When rejecting their ideas, I’d have to be indirect and play by their rules when I chose my words. That would mean things would get long, so it’d really be difficult to get Isshiki to speak for me.
“I’m just tentatively joining the brainstorming process, but to offer my own counterproposal to that last suggestion, I think it may be best to hope for the greatest synergistic effect by engineering a more seamless liaison between the schools—what do you think?” I worked in a bunch of jargon, thinking to myself, How do you like this?! The sudden statement from an unexpected source brought up a stir of murmurs. Orimoto, who was sitting diagonally from me, stared at me blankly.
But right now, there was only one person I was trying to persuade.
And I was right. Tamanawa loved the jargon and jumped on it.
“…I see. Then we should go with something other than a high school. So university students!”
So that’s no good, huh…? Damn it! At this rate, this is going to spiral way out of control. I have to do a follow-up attack now. “Uh, hold on. Then we’ll be unable to take critical initiative. And obtaining congruity with stakeholders requires a partnership where a clear mission statement can be unmistakably whiteboarded…”
“Hey, what are you talking about…?” Isshiki was drawing away in horror. Oh, I didn’t really understand what I was saying myself. Mission statements had nothing to do with it, either. But I had to say this now.
Raising the jargon content ratio had been an act of desperation, but Tamanawa nodded in approval. “Indeed. So then…”
Good, good. It seems like I’ve persuaded him this time! Aw, he gets it, once you talk to him. He’s a pretty good guy. So I’ve argued a man down again? I want to know failure!
Or so I thought for but a brief moment, when Tamanawa stuck up his index finger. “How about having the nearby elementary school join? That could gain us favor from a different sector, aside from us high school students!”
“…What?” What is he talking about…?
While I was still reeling from his sudden proposal, Tamanawa further elucidated his idea. It seemed he very much liked his own proposal. “Hmm, I suppose they call it gamification? If we design it so they have fun while performing tasks, we may be able to get help from the local elementary school students as well.”
“That’s a win-win solution,” someone from Kaihin agreed.
Then Orimoto clapped her hands and pointed at that guy. “A win-win! Yeah, that’s it!”
But why…?
It seemed not only Orimoto but the majority of the others also agreed. Tamanawa nodded in satisfaction and seemed to assume that it was decided, as he started giving directions. “We’ll handle making appointments and negotiation with the elementary school. I hope I can ask the Soubu student council to handle things after that,” he said to Isshiki with a broad smile.
But Isshiki was staying noncommittal. “I guess we could,” she said, in a way you couldn’t take as a yes or a no. She’d never been keen on this job in the first place—she had to feel negatively about increasing the workload. And that made her reluctant.
But Tamanawa pushed her. “How about it?”
“…Okay, we’re on it!” Isshiki replied with a beaming and brilliant smile.
Well, of course she did. From where she stood, he was an older boy and also the student council president of another school. He wasn’t someone she could refuse that easily. They’d probably been forcing ideas on her like this the whole time.
Now it was certain we’d be getting more work.
I heard another sigh from the vice president. I felt ready to do the same. Nothing but sighs!
On its own, having our workload increased was grating.
It would be best for me to resist a little here and there and bet on the chance that it would reduce my work, even slightly. I’m willing to work as hard as I have to, if it means less work…
“Hey, is it all right for us to be deciding this on our own?” I asked.
“I think it would be meaningful for us to display initiative,” Tamanawa replied as he pushed aside his bangs with a fwsh!
Conversing with this guy makes my head hurt… Pressing my forehead, I said, “That’s not what I mean… If we’re gonna have the elementary school kids help out, then the kids will have to participate in the event itself. And that’s gonna cause capacity problems with the venue.”
They had decided on the community center as the venue in the initial stages, and that decision was obviously not going to be overturned. So then there was an upper limit to the number of people who could participate in the event. We couldn’t just toss anyone and everyone into it.
When I explained this, Isshiki nodded. “Oh, that’s right. And we don’t know how many people will be coming from the preschool or the senior center…”
You haven’t even confirmed that…?
It seemed to me there was a lot we had to do before we scaled this thing up, but still, Tamanawa wouldn’t give in. He incorporated my opinion but stuck to his argument. “Hmm, then we’ll check that. And if we can discuss other matters as well while we’re at it, that would be even better. Then we decide the number of elementary school kids participating and try contacting them.”
So it was decided what we were doing, for now.
Soubu would confirm with the preschool, while Kaihin would be going to the senior center, and based on what we got there, we would approach the elementary school.
Well, it is what it is… I’d succeeded in limiting the number of people participating. I figured I should appreciate that I’d avoided having to deal with an unspecified majority.
That’s right, Hachiman! But I suppose there might be good in things, even if we don’t see it!
Finishing up the meeting—or rather, brainstorming—for the time being, each of us decided to get straight to our tasks.
“Um, what do we do now?” Isshiki started off, once she’d gathered me and the Soubu student council together. “There’s other work to do, so I’m thinking we should decide who’s going to the preschool and who’ll put together the record of proceedings…”
Hmm. Well, there was no need for everyone to bother heading over to the preschool just for confirmation. It should be fine for just a few to go there. The question was who would go, but…on that point, there was frankly no need to bother discussing it.
Before I could offer a comment, the vice president reluctantly began, “Perhaps you should be handling any negotiations, President…”
Isshiki’s shoulders slumped. “O-oh… Yeah, true. Of course…”
Well, it’d be fair enough to have a representative go at a time like this. Rather than deciding on who would go do that, Isshiki should have been assigning tasks to the rest of us right now.
The vice president must have had some concerns of his own, as he added, with some reservation, “Yeah…and I think there’ll be a lot of other things, too… Not just this…”
“Agh…yeah.”
Isshiki’s attitude made the vice president give a tiny sigh.
Oh, so that was what his sigh during the meeting meant?
Unlike me, he was not displeased about the increase of the workload.
The source of his dissatisfaction was Isshiki.
I see… I really do get that subcontractor feeling here, in a bad way.
The Soubu High School student council, vice president included, wanted Iroha Isshiki to act more presidential.
But she was constantly deferring to the other student council president, and she tended to let him force his ideas on her. What’s more, because she was a first-year, she was also diffident with students from our school. The way the student council saw it, they probably wanted her to stop worrying over all that and get to work now.
Well, it’s human nature to worry, so just telling her not to wouldn’t necessarily make her stop. They had no choice but to carry on with this awkward relationship for a while.
But since I was the one who had made Isshiki the president, I also had some responsibility there. I had to support her properly for the duration of the event.
“I’ll come with you to the preschool, Isshiki. Let’s have the others handle the rest while we’re gone.” I turned to the vice president. “That’s okay, right?”
He nodded.
Watching our exchange, Isshiki seemed a bit relieved, and her expression softened. “Right. Then that’s what’s happening. I’ll go make the call,” she declared, and she pulled out her phone to contact the preschool. Though we were going there only for a confirmation and a brief meeting, we couldn’t suddenly barge in unannounced. We had to make an appointment beforehand.
While I was waiting for her to finish her call, I zoned out, thinking, Nothing to do, huh…? And then from the corner of my eye, a familiar face approached.
Orimoto casually raised a hand and came to talk to me. “Hey, Hikigaya, when you were in middle school, were you on the student council or anything?”
“No, I wasn’t.”
We were in the same middle school, and you don’t even know that? I thought, but considering further, even I didn’t remember anyone from the student council at the time. The reason was actually because none of them had inflicted trauma on me, so I get the sense they were probably good people. I feel bad for forgetting them. They didn’t deserve it.
It seemed Orimoto was searching her own memories of the past, as she nodded. “Yeah, yeah, of course. But you seem kinda used to this stuff, don’t you?”
“Not at all,” I replied, but thanks to my involvement with the cultural festival and athletic festival and such over the course of nearly a year, I’d accumulated some basic EXP. I’d gained a level of tolerance to this kind of work, compared with before.
“Actually, like, now that I think of it, why are you helping out?”
“Well, because I was asked.”
“Huh…” My explanation made her pause for a moment. She gave me a hard look, and it was a little uncomfortable. I twisted around to escape from her gaze, and that was when she asked me something outrageous.
“You broke up with your girlfriend?”
“What?” I asked her back, unable to really understand what she meant by that question. What is she talking about…?
Orimoto glanced over at Isshiki, who was on the phone off to the side. “Oh, I figured that’s why you’re going for Isshiki-chan.”
Uh, like I said, what are you talking about…? Isshiki’s cute, but I wouldn’t get anywhere with a girl like her, and I wouldn’t even want to in the first place. “I’m not going for her… And I haven’t broken up with anyone. I’ve never even had a girlfriend.”
Why do I have to hear this stuff from the girl I confessed to a long time ago? Is this some kind of new long-term bullying tactic? I just love the way I answer honestly, regardless. If this were Japanese Folktales, I’d come out successful in the end. Oh wait, that wouldn’t work; I don’t have a dog. Or a lump. Wait, was the lump a different story?
Orimoto blinked.
“Oh, is that right…? I thought you were dating one of those girls.”
Which girls…? I asked with a look.
Orimoto understood my silent question and spun her index finger in the air. “You know, those girls from when we hung out.”
There was only one time when Orimoto and I had hung out, but the two of us hadn’t gone out alone or anything. Hayama had also been there, along with Orimoto’s friend. More accurately, though, I’d been an extra added in to fill out the group.
That was when Hayama had schemed an encounter with two girls—Yukinoshita and Yuigahama. Orimoto had to be talking about them.
“They’re…just in the same club as me.”
I couldn’t quite come up with the words to accurately signify our relationship. I’d meant to state the plain facts, but I didn’t know if that was correct. Anyway, how well did I understand the meaning of the words the same club?
As I was about to start considering that, Orimoto cut my thoughts off with a dumb-sounding “Huuuh?!” noise. “So you’re in a club? What club?”
“…The Service Club.” I didn’t know how to explain it, but if I told some weird lie and we wound up talking more about it, I’d be in trouble.
Orimoto’s reaction to my plain, truthful answer was to burst into laughter. “What the heck, I have no clue what you mean! That’s so funny.”
“Uh, no, it’s not…”
She clutched her stomach as she laughed hard. Well, it was true that I didn’t really get the point of the Service Club. But it wasn’t particularly funny.
I really couldn’t laugh about it.
Once Isshiki finished her call, I accompanied her to the preschool. It was basically next door to the community center, so it was easy to meet people there. And because it was a public day care center, it was easy to talk to the school administration.
Isshiki had just scheduled an appointment, so when we arrived, we were immediately let inside.
The sights of the preschool, which I’m sure were buried somewhere in my memory, and a wafting sweet scent like powdered milk made me feel somehow nostalgic.
I didn’t know if I should call them classrooms, but in the rooms I could see through the glass windows, everything was tiny. Inside, little kids were playing with wooden blocks and running around. Stuck up on the walls were indecipherable crayon pictures with wriggling characters, with flair added by tulips and shooting star decorations made from colored paper.
I’d gone to preschool, too, but I don’t remember much from that time. Back then, I think there’s a possibility someone told me, “Zawsze in love,” or I got a key or lock or something, but unfortunately, I don’t remember at all.
Being somewhat curious, I was looking around appreciatively, when through the glass, my eyes met with those of a day care worker inside the room.
She whispered a bit with the other day care worker beside her. From her look, she was clearly suspicious of me. Yes, all you mothers, the crisis management at this preschool is perfect! I recommend it!
I scooted away at once and called out to Isshiki, who was walking ahead. “Looks like I’m not very welcome here.”
“Yeah…you’ve got a scary look in your eyes, after all…,” Isshiki said, looking straight at me.
That was mean! I thought she’d say something in my defense!
However, even if we’d called beforehand, of course they’d be a little wary to see a high school boy appearing in his uniform. It wouldn’t be good for me to continue following her and scare the children and the day care workers.
“…Actually, I’ll go wait over there.” I pointed to a place in the hallway by the wall where the kids wouldn’t see me.
Isshiki put a hand to her waist and breathed a big sigh. “Guess you have to, huh? Then I’ll deal with things here.”
“Thanks,” I said, sending her off. It seemed she was going to go talk in the staff room that was just past here, as she continued straight on down the hall.
But anyway, waiting here despite having come all this way was, like, the most useless thing possible.
Now then, how do I kill time until Isshiki’s done talking with them? I wondered as I checked around the area. I could sit down in the hallway, but that would make me even more of a shady character. I was staying behind to avoid making the kids and day care workers suspicious, so doing that would be voiding the point.
I’ve got no choice. I guess I’ll stand here and zone out…
A long time ago, I did this day-labor job working for the display of model rooms in an apartment building, and I held a sign for hours under the blazing sun, standing there and doing nothing else, so this was no big deal. Back then, I’d killed the time zoning out for about eight hours. It was a pretty tough job, but there were so many deductions, like from the temp agency and for insurance and stuff, it made me tear up… Yikes, is my wage this low…?
In comparison, this place had a roof and walls, and it was just for a short time. That alone made it seem like a good work environment… Yikes, is my aptitude for corporate slavery this high…?
I was spacing out like that, thinking trivial thought after trivial thought, when the door of a nearby classroom opened gingerly.
What’s that? I wondered, looking over to see a young girl tiptoe out. She sneaked over to the entrance, where she started looking all around. Stretching up and jumping in a very cute and nimble manner, she did her best to see outside, but when she couldn’t see anything, she trudged back.
Her bluish-black hair was divided into two pigtails and tied with scrunchies. That, combined with her pretty, cherubic face, made for a very adorable little girl.
When she noticed me, she called out a quiet “Ah!” and approached me.
Then she tugged on the sleeve of my blazer and looked up at me, open-mouthed.
This isn’t good—is this, like, where I get reported to the cops for suspicious behavior or something? But we’re inside a preschool, and there’s no one else here, so it’s okay, right…?
“…Hi. What’s up?” Of course, I couldn’t ignore her in this situation, so I tried to keep my tone calm as I addressed her.
Then she tugged even harder on my sleeve, so I slowly bent down. Once I was about on her eye level, she said with worry, “Hey, Saa-chan isn’t here yet.”
“Oh…is that right?”
What’s a Saa-chan…? Does she mean her mom? Small children do mix up their words a lot when they talk. When Komachi was little, she called me Big Bo instead of Big Bro. I’d think for sure she was Tora-san.
I’d built up a resistance to little kids, thanks to having Komachi, but of course I didn’t remember how I’d handled her when she was this little. I’d been young, too, after all. So then how should I deal with this…? Whatever the case, I couldn’t let her go outside on her own. So then should I take her back into the classroom?
“Saa-chan will show up soon. Go play over there until then.” Gently pushing her little shoulders, I brought her to the classroom door. She was surprisingly obedient, coming to the classroom with me.
Then, right when I was about to reach out to the glass sliding door, she tugged on my sleeve again. “Oh! That’s Saa-chan,” she said, pointing to a crayon picture posted on the classroom wall.
I have no idea which picture she’s pointing to… She’d probably drawn a picture of her mom or something. But since there were multiple pictures up, I didn’t know which one it was.
“Which one’s Saa-chan?”
“That one!” The little girl pointed vaguely at the wall. But with all the pictures taped there, I really couldn’t tell.
Hmm… I wonder which it is…
I crouched down again to look from the girl’s perspective. “…Okay, I get it. This is right.” I raised my right hand. “So then, this is left.” Then I showed her my other hand.
She nodded, raising her hands in the same way as she repeated, “Right, left.”
“You got it. Okay, raise your right,” I said, and she energetically shot up her right hand. “Now raise your left.” This time her left hand leaped up with vigor. Hmm. Looks like she understands right and left properly.
So, then…, I thought, pointing to a picture stuck on the wall. “Okay, here’s a puzzle. How many from the right is Saa-chan?”
The new game made the little girl’s eyes sparkle. She started to count, folding down her fingers. “Ummm…the fourth!”
“Right. Good job,” I said, lightly patting her head. I see—so that’s Saa-chan…
…Yep, no idea who that would be. In the end, I couldn’t tell which was the correct picture. But I’d spent a bit of time with her, and that must have distracted her for a while.
When I was about to prompt her to go into the classroom, a kind voice called out from behind. “Kei-chan.”
I turned around to see someone quite familiar. It was my classmate Saki Kawasaki.
The little girl she’d called Kei-chan broke into a beaming smile and ran off. “Saa-chan!”
When Kei-chan jumped on her, Kawasaki tenderly petted her hair. Then she gave me a suspicious look. “…Why are you here?”
“Um, well, work…”
I actually wanted to ask Kawasaki why she was there, but before I could ask, she opened her mouth. She shot a stealthy searching look around behind me. “Hmph… Where’s Yukinoshita and Yuigahama?”
I’d figured she would ask that. If I was going to mention work, that would refer to Service Club activities. Kawasaki had been involved with those a few times before, so it was natural for her to be asking that. But there was no need to bother telling her about what was going on. She hadn’t been probing that deeply, and telling her about our private affairs would just make her uncomfortable. So I’d keep it simple.
“…They’ve got other stuff to do. I’m here alone.”
Kawasaki gave me a hard look, but then she said, “…Oh,” and briefly looked away as if disinterested.
“You?” I threw the question back at her, and Kawasaki gently grabbed the shoulder of the little girl she’d called Kei-chan.
Then she muttered with shy hesitation, “I…came to pick up my sister.”
“Ohhh.” Ahhh, so Kei-chan is her little sister? That’s good… For a second there, I was worried she was Kawasaki’s daughter…
But now that she explained it, their facial features really did resemble each other’s. Kei-chan had a pretty hopeful future. I pray she will grow up into a meek and modest girl, ’cause her big sister is scary.
With that wish for Kei-chan in my heart, I looked between the Kawasaki sisters. I’m not sure how Kawasaki interpreted my gaze, but she sounded a little flustered as she said, “Oh, um, this is my little sister, Keika… Come on, Kei-chan, say your name.”
“Keika Kawasaki!” When prompted, Keika raised her hand energetically, as if she were responding to roll call.
“I’m Hachiman.” Feeling my heart warmed by Keika’s cheer, I told her my name in return, and she blinked her big eyes.
“…Hachi…man? …That’s a weird name!”
“H-hey! Kei-chan!” Kawasaki hastily admonished her, but her tone was still kind. She seemed softer than she was normally. She was actually being a proper big sister, completely different from when she fusses over her brother.
“I think it’s a weird name, too, so it’s fine. Anyway, so you pick her up and drop her off, huh? That’s a lot of work,” I said.
Kawasaki was curt. “Not really… Normally, our parents do it. I help out on days I don’t have cram school.”
“But don’t you live pretty far away?” Kawasaki’s house is in a different school district from my middle school, but I think it’s not far from my house. From there to here would be about a station or two on the train, I guess. I don’t really know if that’s a fair distance for a kid’s day care, but it’s definitely not in the neighborhood. That seemed tough.
But Kawasaki stroked her own long hair as she said quietly, “Yeah, but when they drop her off, it’s by car… Right now there aren’t many openings at preschools, and this municipal one is cheap.”
“Huh, I see.” She’s kinda domestic.
A little impressed, I was looking at her when the shopping bag in her hand caught my eye. She must have done some shopping for dinner before coming, and the green onions sticking out of the bag looked even more domestic.
“Before, I was always working, so I couldn’t come, though…”
“Ahhh, now that you mention it, yeah.”
“Uh-huh…,” Kawasaki replied, and her voice was warm, her gaze focused on Keika. Then suddenly, that gaze shifted toward me.
Looking at me hesitantly, her lips started moving silently as if she was struggling to say something. It didn’t seem like she’d spit it out even if I waited, but when she just stood there, it made me think she was gonna say something. I found myself fidgeting.
This is kinda embarrassing, so don’t… “…What?” I asked.
Kawasaki shook her head hard. “I-it’s nothing.” Her ponytails swayed restlessly as she did, and Keika followed the trail of the ends with her eyes, like a cat.
When I was drawn to look over, too, I saw Isshiki at the end of the hallway.
“Oh, there you are. Heeey!”
Isshiki was on her way back, seemingly finished with her discussion in the staff room. If she’d finished the confirmation and the meeting, then our job was now over. Not that I did anything.
“…U-um, I’m not intruding, am I?” Isshiki asked in concern as she noticed Kawasaki’s presence.
Kawasaki glanced back at Isshiki, and Isshiki froze up with a frightened twitch.
Oh, that’s normal for Kawasaki, so you don’t have to be scared. She might look like a delinquent glaring at you, but she’s all bark and no bite. She’s a good girl. But if I were to explain it like that, Kawasaki would probably get angry again.
While I was wondering what I should say, Kawasaki flicked her hair back and turned away, then put her hand on the glass sliding door. It looked like she meant to say good-bye to the day care workers, then get going home. “…See you,” she turned halfway back to say, then pulled Keika’s hand.
Keika squeezed Kawasaki’s hand back as she raised her free hand, waving it wide. “Bye-bye, Haa-chan!”
“Yeah, see you.” Casually raising a hand, I waved back at her.
But where did “Haa-chan” come from? Does she not remember my name? Let’s make sure to keep track of people’s names. You must never do it the lazy way and remember it as, like, “Hachi-something.”
As I watched the two of them go, Isshiki stood next to me and shifted her gaze from the departing Kawasaki to me. Sounding a little confused, she said timidly, “Y-your acquaintances are all kind of unique, huh…?”
I won’t deny it, but you’re one of those unique acquaintances, too…
It was the day after our visit to the preschool. The end-of-day homeroom was over, and I was stretching a little.
I was still somewhat tired from the day before.
Physically speaking, it was nothing, but time spent too pointlessly can wear on you.
Ultimately, all we had to show for the work of the day before was an estimate of the number of participants from the preschool; plus, we’d listened to their moderate requests. The update of the meeting’s records did also count, I guess, but we hadn’t had much of a meeting in the first place.
As I thought about how that day would probably be more of the same, a particularly big yawn came out of me. I breathed out my feelings of melancholy with a great fwahhh.
As I was wiping off the tears that had formed, Totsuka was putting his hand on the sliding door, and our eyes met. It seemed he’d seen my yawn.
Totsuka retraced his steps back to my seat, and then with a lightly closed hand, he covered his mouth and giggled in amusement. If he’s gonna smile at me like that, I’m gonna quite amusingly lose it.
“You seem kind of tired,” he said to me, maybe because of my enormous yawn just now.
It was true that I was a little tired, but I couldn’t possibly brag about being tired in front of Totsuka. Playing up how tired you are is just as obnoxious as playing up how drunk you are. Why do guys think that’ll get you girls? It actually makes you look dumb. In fact, I think from now on, you’ll have better luck playing up that you don’t drink.
Based on the above, right now I think playing up how not tired I am will be effective on Totsuka!
“I’m always like this,” I said jokingly, and Totsuka smiled back at me.
“Now that you mention it, I guess so.”
I’d been sighing so much, but now not a single one would come out. It felt like I would breathe a pink sigh instead. Does Totsuka’s laughter have an effect like 1/f fluctuation? By the way, I think that f stands for fairy…
As the negative ions generated by Totsuka’s smile worked their placebo effect on me, Totsuka tugged his tennis bag up on his shoulder.
“You have your club now?” I asked.
“Yeah! You too, right, Hachiman?”
“…Yeah.”
“…?” My strange pause made Totsuka tilt his head slightly.
To cover for that, I made an effort to sound cheerful as I said, “Well, do your best at your club.”
“You too, Hachiman. Do your best.”
“Yeah.”
Totsuka did a tiny wave in front of his chest and left the classroom. I watched him leave with a smile on my face. But even after he’d disappeared into the hallway, I didn’t feel like getting up yet.
Leaning into the back of my chair, I looked up at the ceiling.
And then in my periphery, I spotted Yuigahama.
She was fidgeting as she looked over at me from a distance. It seemed she’d been waiting for the moment when we would finish talking.
Sitting up again, I showed her implicitly that she could come over, and she approached with slightly awkward steps.
Standing across from me, she examined my face with unease. “…Are you coming to club today?” she asked.
I didn’t know how to answer.
Had my leaving early the other day made her worry? Seeing her face, I couldn’t bring myself to say I wasn’t. Don’t look at me with those puppy dog eyes… I get it; I’ll go. “Yeah. Let’s get going…”
“Roger! Then I’ll go get my bag,” she said and went back to her seat. I left the classroom before her and decided to wait for her in the hallway to the special-use building.
I spent my time in the empty hallway thinking about the approaching club time and work on the event that would follow.
There still wasn’t a lot of work to do yet.
But thinking about the plans down the line, it was an undeniable fact that we wouldn’t have enough time. In order to secure the time to do the work, we might need to move the meeting time up.
Which meant that at some point, they’d probably have to tell me to skip out of the club.
But I didn’t want to skip out, if possible. It’d probably be best not to let it prevent me from attending the club. Ultimately, I’d just have to do as I had the other day, leaving early and spending less time there.
While I was thinking, there was the soft impact of a bmfff at my waist. Ow, what is that…? I thought, turning around to see Yuigahama standing there, looking grumpy. It seemed she’d lightly thumped me with the bag in her hands.
“Why’d you go without me again?”
“Like I said before, I did wait…”
While walking down the hallway to the clubroom, we repeated the exchange we’d had the other day. It was the usual reiteration, preestablished harmony. I took it for granted, since that time was about to begin again.
If there was anything at all different, I suppose it would be the fact that matters had been divided into the time before Isshiki’s request and the time after it. I’d warn Yuigahama in advance that I’d be leaving before I normally would again.
“…Oh, I might head out early today. And, well, it’ll be sort of like that for a while, I guess,” I said.
Yuigahama nodded, then said, “Helping Iroha-chan?”
Her question startled me. “…You knew?”
“Obviously, seeing the way you’ve been acting.” She added a laugh to cover the awkwardness of the moment.
Well, since I’d been leaving the club all alone and then looking tired in class, I guess she’d infer something was going on, at least. I was frustrated with my own thoughtlessness. If Yuigahama could figure it out, then it wouldn’t be strange for someone else to have noticed, too.
“Yukinoshita, too?” I asked, and Yuigahama’s gaze turned out the window.
“Hmm…I don’t know. We don’t talk about you.”
I couldn’t guess Yuigahama’s expression. But it seemed to me that her quiet tone was a preclusion on any further questions. Her answer, vague and incomplete, was an embodiment of our situation. I feel as if we were constantly trying to avoid saying anything decisive.
After that, we didn’t say a word as we walked through the empty hallway.
All that sounded was our footsteps.
As usual, Yuigahama was looking outside.
That prompted me to look over to the windows on the opposite side.
At this time of year, winter solstice was approaching. The sun had descended quite a bit, even though it was early in the day, and the special-use building felt even darker than before. It had never gotten much sun to begin with.
When we entered a shadow, Yuigahama muttered, “…Are you gonna go at it alone again?”
Though it was dim around her, I could see her face clearly. Her eyes were sadly lowered, and she was biting her lip weakly. Even though I’d done what I did to keep her from making a face like that.
In an attempt to shake off the constricting feeling in my chest, I walked faster. “I’m just doing this because there’s something that needs to be done. You don’t have to worry about it.”
“I am worrying…,” Yuigahama said with a troubled smile.
Seeing that smile, the question from that time reared its head.
I wasn’t wrong, was I?
The answer to the question I’d been asking myself continuously since then had emerged a long time ago.
I was wrong. I’m sure of it.
The days since the student council election spoke of that vividly. Yuigahama’s sad smile showed it to me. The resignation in Yukinoshita’s eyes made it impossible to ignore.
That was why I had to take responsibility for it. You should embrace the consequences of your own actions, obviously.
I couldn’t rely on other people to correct my own mistakes. How could I cause even more trouble for others? It seemed to me that if I relied on someone and then made another mistake, then forcing them to make an effort and then wasting it would be the greatest betrayal of their trust.
In order to avoid making any further mistakes, I considered what I should do, based on righteous rules and principles.
For now, I had to avoid causing Yuigahama any undue concern.
“There are other things you should be worried about besides me, aren’t there?” I exhaled a small breath, then relaxed my mouth in a smile. I was changing the topic, knowing it was cowardly.
“Yeah…,” Yuigahama replied, voice faint and eyes lowered.
As we walked down the hallway of the special-use building, our feet became gradually heavier. It was like we were walking through tar.
Making our way along far slower than usual, finally, we saw the door of the clubroom.
Was the room already unlocked? She was the only one with the key, and we had never even touched it.
Suddenly, Yuigahama’s feet stopped. I stopped with her. She was looking at the clubroom.
“Maybe Yukinon wanted to be student council president…”
“…I don’t know.”
There was no way to confirm now. Considering Yukinoshita’s personality, even if I asked her, she probably wouldn’t answer honestly. I doubted she’d say now what she hadn’t then. I also had no interest in trying to ask something she’d probably never answer.
No, I probably didn’t want her to answer.
I think, at least superficially, neither she nor I will ever mourn a past that can never be regained. It would have been so much easier if she would have just berated me.
But Yuigahama was the one person who would bring up the past that neither I nor Yukinoshita would mention—and not in the weak-sounding tone she’d used before, but in a voice with clear determination. “…I really think we should’ve accepted that request as a club.”
When Isshiki had come to talk to us, Yuigahama had said the same thing. At the time, I hadn’t asked her why, but since she was bringing it up again, she must have some appropriate rationale for it. When I looked her in the eye, Yuigahama communicated that clearly.
“I think Yukinon would’ve ended up accepting the request before.”
“What makes you think that?”
“’Cause I think it’s like her to try to overcome things. It’s sorta… I don’t know, she’d use the fact that she couldn’t become president as a reason to grapple with something even bigger, you know…” She spoke with both passion and hesitation, as if considering and making sure of each and every word.
Maybe that was why I found myself staring at her. Those clumsy but warm words were very much like her.
Yuigahama trailed off—maybe because I was facing her directly. Then she continued, sounding less confident. “That’s why I thought this might be a good little push…”
“Oh…”
What’s lost will not return.
If you want to make up for it, you need something even greater.
There’s what was lost itself and the damage caused by the loss. You have to make up for both of those things. That’s what atonement is.
If Yukinoshita was the person I’d thought she was, then surely she would make up for her own actions herself. Maybe Yuigahama’s idea wasn’t wrong.
Yuigahama had thought it through this much. She acknowledged that a request connected to student council might be painful to Yukinoshita, and yet she’d thought that maybe, it was worth trying.
Then what about me?
Hadn’t I made this decision to keep this space from deteriorating even further, from becoming even more empty than it already was? I was doing this to protect myself, to satisfy my own feelings, and she was confronting me with the fact. I couldn’t help but look away from Yuigahama.
“…Well, maybe it would have been before… Now I don’t know.”
“Yeah…,” Yuigahama replied in a subdued tone. She’d probably also realized the odds were not great.
When Isshiki had come to the clubroom, Yukinoshita’s attitude had been different from the last time.
It had seemed as if she’d lost her fixation on requests and consultations.
She was probably on the other side of this door right now, sitting there quietly just like before, as if she’d given up on something and forgotten it.
I finally put my hand on the sliding door of the clubroom, after taking far more time than usual to arrive.
Opening the door, I went in first, and Yuigahama followed after.
“Yahallo!” Yuigahama greeted with particular cheer.
Yukinoshita, sitting by the window, looked over at us. “Hello.”
“…’Sup.” Returning her greeting, I sat down in my chair, which was not going to move again.
Looking over at Yukinoshita, I saw nothing about her that was different from the day before. If there was anything, it was just that her stack of finished books was one volume higher. Like the futile stone towers children build in the river of purgatory.
Yuigahama must have been checking her text messages or something, as her thumbs were darting around. I was about to pull a paperback out of my bag, as per usual, but suddenly my hand stopped.
Before we idled away this frozen time, there was something I should say to Yukinoshita. I’d already told Yuigahama, but I had to say I’d be leaving the club early for a while from now on.
“Hey, can I say something?”
When I addressed her, Yukinoshita’s shoulders twitched. I hadn’t meant to speak that loudly, but the echo was greater than I’d expected in the quiet room. Yuigahama stood up straight, too, and turned her gaze to me.
Yukinoshita looked at me, still for a while. Then, as if reconsidering suddenly, she closed her book and opened her mouth. “…What is it?”
Her composed voice and intellectual gaze were directed at me. I’m sure my expression was similar.
“Can I leave early for a while?” I said.
Yukinoshita blinked two, three times. Then she put her hand to her jaw in a considering gesture. “Well, it’s not as if we’re particularly busy…” I waited for her to continue, but she never did.
“Well, um, you know… I’ve got lots of stuff going on… And Komachi has her entrance exams coming up.” That reason I’d offered was not completely made-up. But even so, I couldn’t say the full truth. I think there are things you should be allowed to leave unsaid and unknown.
“…I see.” Yukinoshita gently stroked the cover of the paperback in her hands. It seemed she was still considering something, and even if I waited, it would take some time to get a clear conclusion back from her.
Yuigahama had been watching this happen and took over the discussion. “…But maybe that’s best, huh, since there isn’t much we can do for Komachi-chan. So then let’s have Hikki make up for us with his effort! Right, Yukinon?” Yuigahama leaned onto her desk, and when she turned to Yukinoshita, she responded with a faint smile.
“…Yes, you’re right.”
“…Sorry,” I said, scratching my head unconsciously, and Yukinoshita gave a small shake of her head as if to say, Don’t worry about it. And then the room regained its deathly silence.
As if attempting to fill that silence, Yuigahama added, “Oh, I know. I’ll text Komachi-chan.” Yuigahama must have gone straight to carrying out that idea as soon as it was out of her mouth, as she started to tap out a message.
Once again, I was reminded of just how Yuigahama had been supporting this atmosphere the whole time. All by herself, she’d been keeping these crumbling relationships intact.
Our exchanges were trivial, nothing out of the ordinary. I think depending on one’s outlook, this was a completely amiable time we spent together.
I thought of a world where we reached conclusions via negotiation and management. Where we discussed issues properly until we all agreed, suggested answers that would convince everyone, and established it as the collective will—
Was this correct? I swallowed such questions.
The breath that came out instead was unpleasantly hot, and it dried out my throat horribly. I found myself looking at the tea set we were no longer using.
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