Not much thought had gone into the division of labor, but nevertheless, we got all the vegetable chopping and rice washing done. Now we were ready to get cooking. We laid out our utensils and then sauteed the meat and vegetables in the pot. As this was going on, I heard Ebina mutter, "Carrots are such a lewd vegetable…," but Miura whacked her over the head. Maybe Miura was actually the nice one here. No one else was willing to be the straight man in this routine, but she stepped up to the plate. Although, main heroines who smack people around aren't as popular these days, so I would recommend she actively ignore Ebina from now on.
We poured water into the pot and, once it came to a boil, dropped in two kinds of curry cubes. The fat of the pork rib would bring out the flavor, and the cubes would make it nice and spicy. Next, all that was left to do was slowly let it stew. Of course, we were big kids, and a few of us even cooked on a daily basis, so we finished the process without any serious hitches.
When I scanned the area, I could see smoke from assorted nearby fires. This would be the first outdoor cooking experience for the elementary school kids. From what I could see, a few groups were having a rough time of it. "If you don't have anything to do, you could look around and help them out," said Miss Hiratsuka. Implicit in her statement was I don't wanna do it, though. I felt much the same. I wonder why normies enjoy all that social interchange. Isn't that how you get off the highway?
Hayama seemed on board with the idea, though. "We don't get many chances to talk with elementary school kids, after all."
"Uh, but we've got a pot on the fire."
"Yeah. So I guess we can only go check on maybe one nearby group."
That's not what I meant when I said that… For some reason, he was acting under the assumption that I had agreed to this. Normally, you'd think, There's a pot on the fire, so I can't go. Right? That was what I meant. Why was he taking it like advice on how to pull this off? "I'll watch the pot…," I declared, quickly withdrawing, but my Uturn was immediately intercepted.
"Don't worry about it, Hikigaya. I'll watch the pot." A smirking Miss Hiratsuka was blocking my path.
I see. So this is part of my training in the art of "getting along," huh…?
Hayama took the lead, and we approached the nearest group. Not that I cared, but he was more like a Service Club captain than Yukinoshita was. It looked like the kids were treating the arrival of us high schoolers as a special event, and we received an enthusiastic welcome. They divulged the contents of their curry, and even though it wasn't done yet, they kept prodding us to come on, have some, eat up like a bunch of country grannies. Well, with Japanese curry, you always reach a certain threshold of flavor, no matter your skill. I doubted they'd come up with anything too weird.
Hayama and the others were surrounded by children, and the whole gang had really hit it off. I wish I could just chalk it up to his social prowess, like, I'd expect nothing less of a normie. But in truth, he wasn't the only reason the kids were being like this. Kids of that age bracket are the least intimidated by grown-ups. They don't know what makes an adult an adult, so they think older people are no big deal. Source: past me. They don't know the value of money, the significance of studying, or the meaning of love. They take for granted what they are given, and they have no clue as to where it all comes from. It's the age of certainty as to the workings of the world, even though you're only barely scratching the surface. Once you hit middle school, you come to know failure, regret, and despair; you come to appreciate that the world is a hard place to live in. Or if you're a clever child, you might have figured that out already.
For example, the one girl who had been excluded from the group and was trying to become invisible all by herself. The rest of the kids probably saw her alone every day, so they didn't think much of it.
But from an outsider's perspective, it was an arresting sight.
"Do you like curry?" Hayama tried approaching Rumi.
When Yukinoshita saw his attempt, she let out a sigh so small you would probably miss it. I was with her there. That was a poor move.
If you're gonna try chatting with a loner, you should always do it secretly, out of sight. You have to take the utmost precaution to ensure they aren't publicly humiliated. A high schooler talking to Rumi, especially a prominent figure like Hayama, would only further highlight her uniqueness and cast her distinct loneliness in even sharper relief. To draw a simple analogy, it's like how it's more embarrassing to get paired up with the teacher than to end up alone. The sympathy and pity is the worst part. I'd be like, Stop being so nice to me; I'd rather you just ignore me. When you're alone, you're invisible, and you escape unscathed. But when you have to partner up with the teacher, you're less "veiled by a discreet curtain" and more "failed like a NEET virgin." That was why it was a bad idea.
When Hayama did anything, the people around him would follow suit. The high schoolers were celebrities, and the kids would go along with anything their objects of admiration did. Rumi was being herded into the spotlight all at once. She was now the center of attention, a mere loner shot up to stardom all at once. How nice, huh? What a Cinderella story. A Super Dimensional Cinderella. And they all lived happily ever after.
Of course not.
If I had to guess at what was running through their minds, it was not Eek! That high schooler is talking to Rumi! She's so cool! Come be friends with me, too! It was probably like, Huh? Why her? Rumi was now under fire—curious looks from the big kids and jealousy and hate from her classmates.
She was trapped. No matter how she replied to Hayama's question, people were bound to hate her for it. If she gave him a friendly reply, they'd be like, She thinks she's good enough to be talking to him, huh? And if she were cold to him: Who does she think she is? Wow, so full of herself. It was damned if you do, damned if you don't.
Rumi looked surprised to see Hayama speaking to her. "…Not really. I
don't really care about curry," she replied coldly, feigning composure, and then quietly walked away. In a situation like this, there was no choice but to make a tactical retreat. There were no other cards available to play.
Rumi withdrew to the most private location she could, removed from the social circle. In other words, toward me. By the way, though Yukinoshita had distanced herself from me, she was also nearby. An aloof-style loner has a wide circle of personal space and emits a strong negative aura that keeps people at bay. The effect is so powerful that you could even call it a Reality Marble. To put it in simple terms, they just distance people. Whoa, that was blunt of me.
Anyway, Rumi approached a spot about a meter away, right between Yukinoshita and myself, and then stopped. She was close enough that we could just barely see each other in our periphery.
At a loss, Hayama smiled sadly at Rumi and immediately went back to engaging the other kids. "All right, it's a special occasion, so let's add in a secret ingredient! How about it? Does anyone want to put in a little something extra?" he said cheerfully, charming the people around him and drawing their attention. The hostile glares quickly broke away from Rumi. The kids raised their hands, shouting Me! Me! as they suggested all sorts of ideas, like coffee and hot pepper and chocolate.
"Oh! I think fruit would be nice! Like peaches or something!"
By the way, that one was Yuigahama. Why was she participating…?
Even Hayama's face stiffened up a bit. She wasn't just coming down to the kids' level. Her proposal was clearly the product of the worst cooking ability among them.
Hayama promptly adopted his usual gentle expression and said something to Yuigahama. Her shoulders drooped, and she trudged toward us. By all appearances, he had gently requested her to buzz off.
"What an idiot…," I muttered thoughtlessly to myself.
A soft, whisper-like voice echoed mine. "They really are a bunch of fools…," said Rumi Tsurumi icily. Well, that settles it. Her nickname from now on is Rumi-Rumi. Is this Nadesico?
"Well, that's what most of the world is like. It's a good thing you recognized it early," I said.
Rumi gave me a curious appraisal that made me slightly uncomfortable.
Yukinoshita cut between us. "And you're part of that majority."
"Hey, don't underestimate me," I retorted. "I'm so outstandingly talented, I can end up alone even when I'm in the mainstream."
"I don't know anyone else who can say something like that with such pride," she replied. "I'm not even exasperated anymore. I'm contemptuous."
"Once you go past exasperation, don't you generally end up at respect…?"
Rumi listened to our exchange without smiling, in silence. She shifted just the tiniest bit closer to us and then spoke to me. "Name."
"Huh? Name what?" I asked back, unsure of what she meant by the lone word.
Rumi imperiously restated with profound displeasure, "I'm asking your name. Most people would have figured that out already." "…You offer your own name first before you ask someone else's," Yukinoshita retorted with a dangerously sharp look. It might have been her scariest one yet. You couldn't even call it a glare; it was more like death by visual stabbing. Yukinoshita had no intention of going easy on Rumi despite her youth. In fact, she was acting even more severe than she usually did. Maybe she doesn't much like children.
Yukinoshita's glowering scared Rumi, too, as she awkwardly looked away. "…Rumi Tsurumi," she muttered in a sullen tone, though just audible enough that I could catch it.
Yukinoshita nodded, apparently having heard as well. "I'm Yukino Yukinoshita. And over there is…Hiki… Hikiga… Hikiguana, was it?"
"Hey, how do you know my fourth-grade nickname? By the end, they were just calling me 'Iguana'…" At some point or another, the connection with my surname had disappeared, and I was just a lizard to them. Words sure do have a life of their own. "I'm Hachiman Hikigaya." If I didn't say something, people would be calling me Hikiguana again, so I did a proper self-introduction.
"And this is Yui Yuigahama." I pointed at the girl in question, who was approaching us.
"Huh? What is it?" Yuigahama looked at the three of us and put the pieces together, more or less. "Oh, yeah, yeah. I'm Yui Yuigahama. Rumi Tsurumi, huh? Nice to meet you."
But Rumi only nodded in reply to Yuigahama. She didn't even spare a glance at the older girl. With her gaze on the ground by her feet, she spoke hesitantly. "Like, you two seem different. Different from those people." Her referents were vague, so it was hard to grasp what she meant, but I figured she was trying to say that Yukinoshita and I weren't like "those people"—in other words, Hayama and the rest.
Well, we were indeed different. Looking at the aforementioned group, they seemed to be enjoying their attempts to make their "special curry."
"I'm different, too," Rumi said slowly, as if taking the time to chew on her words. Perhaps she was confirming the idea to herself by declaring it aloud.
Yuigahama's expression turned serious. "Different how?"
"They're all just kids. Well, I got along with them fine for a while. But it was a waste of time, so I dropped them. I think I'm fine on my own."
"B-but…I think the memories of your elementary school friendships are pretty important."
"You don't need them, though. Once I get into middle school, I can just make friends with the kids who come in from other schools." She quietly raised her head, her eyes on the sky. The sun had finally sunk past the horizon, and the sky was indigo, as if someone had spilled watered-down ink across it. Here and there, stars began to twinkle. Rumi had a sad, faraway look in her eyes, but at the same time, a beautiful hope dwelled within them. Rumi Tsurumi still believed and still had faith. She was sure that in a new environment, things could change.
But that hope wasn't real.
"Sorry to say, but that isn't going to happen," Yukino Yukinoshita bluntly asserted. Rumi shot her a reproachful look. But Yukinoshita gazed straight back into her eyes and calmly laid it out in no uncertain terms. "The kids in your elementary school will all go on to the same middle school, won't they? Then it will all be the same. And the 'kids from other schools' will be with them."
When you're going from a local public elementary school to a public middle school, all your relationships up until then just continue on as before. When you start middle school, you still hold the same negative score you racked up during your younger years. You may presume you can make new friends, but the liabilities of your past will sneak their way in somehow. Like it or not, your personal history becomes public domain in the form of funny stories and anecdotes. They have their fun, use it as a convenient communication tool, and then it's all over.
"…"
No objections were raised. I wasn't gonna argue, and Yuigahama had fallen into an uncomfortable silence. Rumi didn't reply.
"Don't tell me you didn't already know?" Yukinoshita landed the finishing blow.
Rumi was unable to reply. Yukinoshita watched her as if she was refraining from saying more, her mouth pressed into a tight line. Perhaps she saw a trace of her own past in the younger girl.
"I knew it…" Rumi was quiet and resigned. "I was really so stupid."
"What happened?"
As Rumi murmured to herself in self-condemnation, Yuigahama gently pressed for more information.
"It's happened a few times. Someone would be it, and then we'd stop talking to them. Eventually, it'd always end, though, and after it was over, we'd talk again. It was just a phase. Someone would always start it, and then everyone would be doing it." Rumi said it matter-of-factly, but the story gave me goose bumps.
What the hell. That's really scary.
"And then it happened to a girl I was friends with and talked to a lot, and I sorta stayed away from her, but… But then suddenly, it was me.
Even though I didn't do anything."
I'm sure any reason would have worked. No, they don't need to have a defined justification. Just an odd sense that this was how it had to be.
"And I had told her a lot of stuff…" Someone who was your friend one day would spill your secrets on the next, just to make someone else laugh. She was a sixth grader, so she'd probably had a crush. You don't know how to deal with these unfamiliar romantic feelings, so you want to express them. But they're embarrassing, after all, so you open your heart and confide in a person you trust.
Why is it that the more you say absolutely do not tell anyone, the more they spread it around? It's like, are you Ostrich Club? I can laugh about it now, but at the time, it was a painful, difficult, and agonizing experience. You think you're trusting someone by sharing your secrets with them, but then those personal details just serve as ammunition.
Nobody in this world fits the classic mold of the villain. Normally, everyone is good or at least ordinary. But in the right circumstances, they may change suddenly, and this is what makes them so frightening. One must always be on one's guard.
The passage suddenly flickered through my mind. No one is born evil. Everyone believes that, including myself. You have no doubt that you yourself are a good person. But once something you stand to benefit from is threatened, that's when the claws come out.
You tell yourself that you're not evil, so when you do something bad, you search for reasons to justify your actions. In order to avoid cognitive dissonance after you've changed, you flip the world on its head to fit your new identity. People who were cool only a day ago are now full of themselves, and the ones whose wisdom and intellect you once respected you now hold in contempt, since they have to be sneering at less academic types. People you once described as energetic and active are now dubbed annoying and overexcited.
And so you wield your sword of justice, bringing down your judgment on the upside-down world. But you can't validate your beliefs all on your own. That's why you gather coconspirators. You band together and circle-jerk about how unscrupulous and immoral the rest of them are, as if it were an established fact. You cultivate your sense of justice in that echo chamber, taking that tiny, minuscule seed of dissatisfaction and growing it into a great tree. If that's not a lie, then what is it?
Caught within your own bubble, you tremble in anxiety, thinking it might be your turn next. That's why you seek out a new sacrifice before it happens to you. And thus the cycle continues. There's no end. What meaning is there in a friendship built upon the sacrifice of someone else's dignity?
"Maybe it'll end up like this again…even in middle school." Her voice was trembling with the beginnings of a sob.
Cheers erupted from the large group, drowning her out. Though less than ten meters separated us, the goings-on over there might well have been happening in a distant foreign land.
I could hear the noise of tableware and spoons clacking. We saw off a silent Rumi as she returned to her group with a half-resigned expression, and then we returned straight back to our own base camp.
As Miss Hiratsuka had been keeping an eye on the pot for us, the potatoes had softened up nicely, and the rice appeared to be done, too. There was a wooden table and a pair of benches near the cooking area. Each person served a plate of food, and the search for a place to sit began.
The first one to sit down was Yukinoshita. She snatched up a corner seat on the bench with zero hesitation. Komachi followed, plopping down right beside Yukinoshita, of course, and Yuigahama maintained the pattern. As I wondered who would be next, surprisingly enough, it was Ebina, and then Miura took the edge on the opposite side. I had thought for sure that Miura would want to plant herself right in the middle, but I guess not.
As for the boys, Tobe took the seat opposite Miura. Ahh, looks like he's into her, huh? Beside him sat Hayama. I'm the kind of guy who doesn't care where I sit, so I intended to go with whichever seat was left over at the end. In fact, I end up last every time in such group decisions. It's like, you know, I'm the kind of openhearted guy who will oh-so-generously let others go first. Most likely, either Totsuka, Miss Hiratsuka, or I would end up sitting beside Hayama.
"Um…" Totsuka was contemplating what to do, looking back and forth between me and Miss Hiratsuka. "Wh-where do you want to sit, Hachiman?"
"I'm fine anywhere. I'll go for wherever is left over."
"Like that saying, 'There's fortune in what's left behind'?"
"No, that's not really why," I replied. Somehow, things just end up that way. My free will or personal beliefs have little to do with it… Nothing at all, really.
"There's fortune in what's left behind, huh…? I see!" Miss Hiratsuka suddenly muttered to herself. "That's it… Yes…that must be true." She had this expression like she'd just received a divine revelation.
That's a rather extreme reaction to the phrase left behind… Seriously, someone get this woman some fortune. "Well, let's just sit wherever," I said. "Where do you wanna sit, Totsuka?"
"Anywhere's fine, as long as I'm beside you."
"…"
I was dumbstruck. Totsuka had said it like it was absolutely nothing at all. That's why I was so slow to react. He must have realized what he'd blurted out, too, as he quietly put a hand to his mouth in recognition. "Th-that was a weird way to put it, but, um, we were so busy preparing the lunches and helping out the kids, we didn't get much chance to talk, so…" His attempts to explain himself didn't really change the meaning of what he had said, though. It just made my chest a little tighter.
"Well, whatever. Let's sit down." Now thoroughly embarrassed and bashful, I prodded Totsuka in the back to hurry him along. Geez, why was his back so thin and slender? He must not have been very heavy, because there was no resistance at all.
"All right. Then I'll sit here, 'kay?" Totsuka beckoned me with little flicks of his hand underneath the table, so no one else could see.
"…Okay." He didn't have to check with me like that; I'd have sat there anyway. I worried my face would relax into a smile if I wasn't careful. I pretended to yawn, covering my mouth with one hand to hide it.
"All right then, let's eat." Finally, Miss Hiratsuka sat beside me at the very edge. At her signal, everyone at the table put their hands together and said a brief thanks. Thinking back, I realized it had been a while since I'd last shared a meal with a large group like this. The last time had been only two years ago, but that felt like ancient history now.
"This is like when we had school lunches," Totsuka whispered into my ear. I guess the same thing had crossed his mind.
Agitated due to his unusual proximity, I wound up giving him a straightforward and honest answer. "Yeah, and the menu's curry, too."
"Boys sure like curry, huh? They used to get so excited on curry days," said Yuigahama in a wistful tone. Apparently, school lunches, curry, and loud boys were a universal memory. It had been like that at my school, too.
"Yeah, yeah," I replied. "And then the kid whose turn it is to serve knocks over the whole pot, and everyone gives him crap for it."
Tobe cackled in his distant seat as he scarfed down his food. "Oh man, I remember that! Dude!"
"And so the entire class is chewing out this kid," I continued, "and he's still wearing the white serving uniform with curry all over it. He goes around to all the other classes, trying to get them to share, but they don't want him taking away their curry, so they immediately start raging at him, and he ends up so miserable that he goes into the hallway to cry. But the worst part is that the stains on the white uniform don't come out, and when he passes it on to the next kid in charge of serving, the guy says to him, 'This uniform stinks like curry, LOL,' and everyone starts calling him 'Curry Stink.'"
Yuigahama's spoon stopped. "Uh, I don't remember that…"
So did Yukinoshita's. "Why was that story so detailed…? Were you speaking from personal experience?"
"That stain really wouldn't come out," said Komachi. "I didn't know what to do…"
Suddenly, a cloud of pity toward me was hanging over the table. Thanks to the total silence, I got to hear the chirping of an early bell cricket.
Hayama casually cleared his throat and attempted to smooth over the awkward moment. "Well, boys do love curry, so they get really worked up about it. They get like that on malt jelly days, too."
Oh man, I miss those. That mysterious gelatin had a unique taste that was a lot like Milo. It was really good. On no other days did I wish so badly for everyone else to skip school.
Hayama continued, "I asked some friends from other prefectures about it, and apparently, Chiba is the only prefecture where they serve that in school lunches." "Huh?!" Yuigahama gasped.
"Seriously?!" Miura echoed.
"I-is that true…?" said Komachi. Nobody could suppress their shock.
"Damn, everyone in all the other forty-six prefectures must live such unfortunate lives…" I was so shocked, I almost wondered if this would bring down Japan's rating for quality of life.
Ebina was speechless, too. An agitated stir ran through everyone. Hayama's Chiba knowledge had found its moment. But still, I couldn't let him declare himself Chibapedia over one mere factoid. I don't care if I come out behind in any other area, but when it comes to Chiba, I don't want to lose! "Did you know that miso peanuts are only served in Chiba school lunches?" "Yeah, I know," Hayama replied.
"Why would we ever think otherwise?" added Yukinoshita.
"And, like, here in Chiba's the only place we eat them at home, so," said Miura.
You're all reacting way too coldly to this. Also, it appears they eat miso peanuts like normal in the Miura household. Even I don't eat them that much at home. I don't have any friends in other prefectures, so I don't actually know if they're served outside Chiba.
The whistle-topped kettle began rattling. The pot didn't qualify for large, but its whistle was piercing and loud. Komachi quickly stood and began pouring out the tea into cups with teabags.
The nights on the plateau were a little chilly, and once the elementary school kids began to withdraw and it quieted down, the night cooled even further. The treetops rustled in the wind, and I could hear a faraway brook babbling. It was about time for the kids to go to sleep. This night would be spent with their friends, though, so there was no way it would be a peaceful one. They'd probably throw pillows, pull out bedtime snacks, and talk to each other all through the night.
But one subsection of the children would fall asleep quickly. The kids who were not allowed into the social circle would try their best to go to bed just a little earlier, and not just because they couldn't handle their own isolation. They were also trying to be considerate, so that the other children wouldn't notice them and could easily pretend they weren't there and enjoy the night. Well, not that anyone would notice their efforts.
Listen up, guys, that's why I want you to stop with the pranks. Don't mess with me when I'm asleep and then giggle to yourselves about it or play around taking photos of me, okay? All right? I'm actually trying to be considerate here.
Hayama's paper cup landed on the table with a soft tap. "Maybe they're having those nighttime conversations everyone always has on field trips right about now," he said. Something in his tone sounded wistful for times long ago.
We hadn't yet gone on our high school field trip. That was scheduled for the second semester of second year. The simple task of walking three steps behind my classmates and then going straight to sleep awaited me yet again.
But the only reason it was easy for me now was because I'd overcome all those hardships in the past. For those still caught up in that whirling vortex, it was nothing less than mortifying.
"I wonder if she's okay…," Yuigahama said to me, sounding a little worried.
I didn't have to ask who she was referring to. It was Rumi Tsurumi. Only I, Yukinoshita, and Yuigahama had listened to her directly, but we weren't the only ones who had noticed her exclusion. Everyone had. And not just the people at this table—anyone would have.
A match scratched and burst into flame. Miss Hiratsuka's aloof profile was illuminated for a brief moment in the darkness under the trees. She took a shallow puff of her cigarette, the fumes wafting upward. She uncrossed and recrossed her legs as the smoke drifted in the air. "Hmm. Something you're concerned about?" she asked.
Hayama was the one to reply. "Well, there's this one little girl who has no friends…"
"Yeah, the poor thing." Miura's reply was probably just a reflexive attempt at conversation. She said it as if it were the obvious response.
That bothered me a little bit. "…You've got it wrong, Hayama. You don't understand the real problem here. Having no friends and being alone is just fine, if that's all it is. The problem is that the other kids are maliciously driving her away."
"Huh? How is that any different?" I had been talking to Hayama, but Miura was the one who replied. Scary.
"Some people are alone because they want to be, and some people don't want to be alone, but still end up that way… Is that what you mean?" Hayama asked.
"Yeah, that's the idea." That was why the problem to be solved was not her isolation, but rather the environment that was forcing isolation upon her.
"So what do you kids want to do about it?" Miss Hiratsuka asked.
"Well…" I trailed off. We all went silent. What do I want to do? I don't really want to do anything. I just wanted to say my piece. Basically, it's no different from when you watch a TV documentary about war or poverty, and you say, Oh, the poor things, that must be so hard, we should do what we can about this, as you eat good food in a comfortable house. Eventually, that'll lead to something being done, you say, but that's a lie. You start making it all about yourself and think, Now I realize how fortunate I am, and then that's it. Maybe you'll end up donating ten or a hundred yen. But that's as far as it goes.
Of course, some people are conscious of these problems and genuinely try to change them. That's truly noble, and I respect and admire that. Even those donations will probably help people who are in trouble in some way. But not us. Me, Hayama, Miura—none of us are going to seriously do anything, not that we necessarily even can. You know that, and you use the fact that it's not in your power as an excuse because you still want to believe you're kind at heart.
Once you've seen something that's got nothing to do with you, you can't claim ignorance. But you're still powerless. So at the very least, you want to let yourself feel pity and leave it at that. Those emotions are beautiful and noble, but they're also a cruel and ugly excuse. It's nothing more than an extension of the deceitful youth ideology that I loathe so much.
"I…" Hayama opened his mouth after a period of grave silence. "I'd like to do what I can for her, if it's possible."
It was a very Hayama-like turn of phrase. His words were kind. They were sympathetic not only to Rumi, but also to the people here listening to him. It was a benevolent lie that would hurt no one. He was dangling hope in front of us, but still his roundabout manner of expressing it connoted despair. He implied that perhaps it could not be done and left room for everyone else to interpret.
"That's impossible for you. You've already made your attempt, haven't you?"
Yukinoshita came in and ripped apart his equivocal, comfortable platitude. In the darkness of the night, illuminated by the lantern, she swept her hair back and pierced Hayama with a cold stare. She stated her perspective like it was an established truth, so axiomatic that there was no need to ask her to explain or justify herself. I figured she was referring to earlier, when Hayama had tried to talk to Rumi.
For a moment, Hayama's face flickered with an expression like he was burning on the inside. "Yeah, maybe you're right…but it'll be different this time," he replied.
"Hmm. I'm sure," Yukinoshita replied icily, shrugging.
At the unexpected exchange between the two, a heavy silence descended over the table. I kept my mouth shut, too, observing them. I'd noticed it before, when Hayama came into the Service Club room that other time. Yukinoshita acted differently around Hayama, more stiffly than usual. Her usual frigid exterior was simply an expression of her isolation, but there was something deliberate in the way she'd just spoken to him. It was evident there was something between the two of them that I wasn't aware of. Well then, so what? It wasn't like I cared about their issues, but they were making things superawkward and freaking me out.
"Good grief…," said Miss Hiratsuka. As if to give herself a certain presence, she lit another cigarette, slowly smoking the whole thing over the course of five minutes, crushing it in the ashtray before she attempted to get further input. "What about you, Yukinoshita?" she asked.
Yukinoshita put a hand to her chin. "…Let me ask one thing first."
"And that is?"
"You said this camp is also a Service Club activity, Miss Hiratsuka. Is this matter included as a part of those activities?" she asked.
Miss Hiratsuka thought for a while and then quietly answered in the affirmative. "…Hmm. Yes. Since I've designated helping out with this trip as volunteering, that does make it part of your club's activities. Strictly speaking, it should fall under that category," she replied.
"I see…" Yukinoshita closed her eyes. The wind that had been murmuring through the leaves in the trees fell still. It was as if the forest were straining to hear what she had to say. Nobody spoke a word as we waited. "I… If she wants help, I will use every means available to find a solution," Yukino Yukinoshita declared firmly and resolutely. Her assertion carried an elegant dignity, an unwavering determination.
You're so cool, Yukinoshita. If I were a girl, I'd totally be in love with her right now. I mean, check out Yuigahama and Komachi. They're both practically swooning.
I guess that answer must have been enough for Miss Hiratsuka, as she gave a firm nod. "So does she want your help then?"
"…I don't know," Yukinoshita replied. Well, it was true that Rumi hadn't exactly asked anything of us. We hadn't confirmed what she wanted in a concrete way.
Yuigahama gave Yukinoshita's shirt a few light tugs. "Yukinon. Maybe she wants to ask, but she can't."
"Because no one would believe her or something?" I asked.
Yuigahama hesitated just a little in her reply. "Yeah, there's that, too, but also…like, what Rumi said. This has happened before. And when it was other people, she joined in on it, too. That's why I think, maybe, she won't let us save just her. And I don't think she's the only one at fault, either. I think all the others are, too… Sometimes, it's like, even if you want to talk with someone and be their friend, you just can't because of the atmosphere. But you still feel guilty…" Yuigahama trailed off. She took a few steady breaths and then giggled ta-ha-ha as if to downplay the gravity of what she had said. "Well, it's sort of…really embarrassing to talk about, but, like…it really does take a lot of courage to talk to someone when no one around you is."
Yukinoshita was apparently bowled over, and her eyes were riveted on the other girl's smile.
Yuigahama was right. Usually, it probably would take courage to talk to a loner. At first, she had been nervous about entering the clubroom. But she had overcome that and struck up a conversation with Yukinoshita and me. I suppose that would be overwhelming.
"But in Rumi's class, like, that's just not something you can do, you know? When you think, like, 'If I talk to her, then they'll snub me, too,' you just settle for ignoring her for now. Like, you just need the time to feel ready, but then you might end up just not doing anything… Ahhh! Has all this sounded really mean?!" Flustered and flailing, Yuigahama checked everyone around to see how they were reacting. But not a single person present was showing her any ill will. Everyone reacted in slightly different ways—some bitter, some amazed, and others moved—but everyone was smiling.
You really are amazing, Yuigahama. If I were a girl, I'm sure I'd want to be your friend.
"It's okay. I think it's very like you to feel that way," Yukinoshita replied in a gentle whisper. Though her voice was terribly quiet and small, it contained a wealth of emotion. Yuigahama looked embarrassed to hear that, blushing and falling silent.
Miss Hiratsuka smiled at the two girls. "Are there any objections to Yukinoshita's conclusion?" She paused for a moment and slowly turned her head to see how each person would react. But there was not a single dissenting voice among us. If I had to put my finger on it, though, it would be more accurate to say that no one could dissent. If I tried saying, No way am I helping anyone! I'm going back to my room! it would only lead to my imminent demise.
"All right. Well then, you kids think about the best course of action. I'm going to sleep." Miss Hiratsuka stifled a yawn and stood from her seat.
Only a few minutes after it was unanimously decided that we would deal with this problem, the discussion was already turning chaotic. The topic: What should be done to ensure that Rumi Tsurumi could get along with the rest of the kids?
The one to kick off the debate was Miura. "She's cute, so, like, she should just hang out with the other pretty girls, y'know? So, she just goes and talks to them, and, like, they become friends. Easy, am I right?"
"That's it! Man, you're smart, Yumiko!" said Tobe.
She snorted. "Duh."
Wow, Miura. That's impressive. That was the kind of theory only the strong would come up with. And if that made sense to Tobe, he was just as impressive as her. I had to respect that.
"Y-you can only do that because you're Yumiko…," stuttered Yuigahama. As expected, she did not support the idea.
But I get it now. One of the reasons Miura wants to hang out with Yuigahama is her appearance, huh? Well, she is good-looking. She's a worthy person on the inside, too. She's also a naive idiot, though, so she's bound to get burned one day.
"Yumiko didn't really put it in the best way," said Hayama, "but her idea of creating an in for Rumi is a good one. The way things are right now, though, getting her to talk to someone may be too much to ask." Hayama both backed Miura up and simultaneously gently contradicted her. What a mature means of handling disagreement.
Miura looked a little dissatisfied, but she withdrew with a brief "I see."
This time Ebina raised her hand, brimming with confidence.
"Go ahead, Hina." Hayama called for her to speak.
Who the hell is Hina? I thought.
That was when Totsuka tugged at my shirt. "Hina is Ebina's first name," he said. "You write it with the character for princess and the na part of the nanohana flower," he covertly whispered in my ear. I guess my confusion was obvious. His breath really tickled where it brushed my ear, and he smelled nice. Damn it! He's a guy! Why is he so floral? So Ebina's full name was Hina Ebina. Chii is learning. I was learning, but I'd never use the information. Seriously.
Ebina spoke calmly. "It'll be okay. She just has to throw herself into a hobby. When you get devoted to something, you go to conventions and stuff and expand your social network, you know? I'm sure she'll find somewhere she really fits in that way. She'll realize that school isn't everything, and it makes lots of things more enjoyable."
That was a more normal response than I had predicted, and frankly, I was surprised. The part about school not being everything was especially on the nose. For kids of elementary or middle school age, their schools and families are their entire lives. That's why when you're rejected in those settings, it feels like a dismissal from the whole world. But Ebina was saying that wasn't the whole picture, that Rumi should seek out a place where she could feel good and walk with her head held high.
Huh, that made sense. If she could find a different social group, she would have a place to fit in, and other stuff could most likely grow from that, too. Besides, from the way Ebina described it, she was probably speaking from experience.
"I made friends through BL! There's no such thing as a girl who hates yaoi! So, Yukinoshita, you and I should—"
"Yumiko, you and Hina go get us some tea." Hayama swiftly cut her off.
Miura stood up and took her arm. "Okay, come on, let's go, Ebina."
"Ahh! But I'm still not done converting you!" Ebina struggled, but Miura whacked her over the head and dragged her away, and the two of them disappeared.
Yukinoshita watched them go with an expression of horror. "I wonder what she was going to recommend I do…"
"You don't want to know, Yukinon…," Yuigahama replied wearily.
I see. So she tried to convert you, too, huh?
Besides, even if you do make friends through BL, then you just get into ship wars, or you make friends with someone on the assumption that they're into BL, but it turns out they're not, and it tears your relationship apart… Anything can happen. The world of hobbies has its own unique set of complications, and much difficulty would await her there.
After Ebina and Miura's exit, we tossed out a few suggestions here and there, but no one came up with any great practical plans. And when a discussion doesn't get going, naturally, people stop proposing more ideas. Source: class meetings where no one really gives a damn.
Why is it that they can only come up with tons of opinions when they're all trying to gang up on me over some supposed wrongdoing? They raise their hands more then than when we're actually in class.
During a dead-silent lull, Hayama spoke up as if he'd just realized something: "…I guess we can't reach a fundamental resolution unless we find a way for everyone to be friends."
A dry laugh spontaneously erupted from me, and Hayama gave me a hard stare. But I wasn't going to look away or put on a serious facade and yes-man him, not for something like this. I snickered in Hayama's face with absolute confidence.
He really failed to understand the issue at a basic level. He couldn't comprehend that the very concept that everyone has to be friends was the root of the problem. It was insincere, and it behaved like a curse. That claim is a form of coercion. It's a geas, an evil law.
So many teachers impose these constraints on the tiny worlds that are their classrooms. They enforce the law that everyone must get along, which gives rise to discord, but then they so often ignore the problem and just let it take root. Some people will never click, no matter what you do. There will be individuals you just can't stand. If you could just unambiguously say I hate him or I don't want to be involved with him, then things could still grow from there. There would be a chance you could improve the situation and start a discussion. But by stifling it all and pouring your effort into the appearance of classroom harmony, you make all that impossible. The problem is the unspoken implication of that lazy lie: If you tuck it under the rug, then it's not a problem. That was why I disagreed with Hayama.
And I wasn't the only one.
"That is not going to happen. Not in a million years." Yukinoshita's icy words, far more biting than my snigger, destroyed both his argument and his ability to maintain eye contact.
Hayama let out a short sigh and looked away.
Witnessing the scene, Miura howled. "Hey, Yukinoshita? What's your problem?"
"What do you mean?" Yukinoshita replied to the aggressive demand with cool composure.
But Miura's flames only burned hotter. "I'm talking about that attitude of yours. We're trying to help everyone get along here, so why d'you have to act like that? I don't even like you, like, at all, and
I'm just putting up with you for the sake of having a fun trip."
"H-hey, come on, Yumiko…" Yuigahama tried to pacify Miura as she tactlessly, violently vented her emotions.
But Yukinoshita had no intention of backing down, either. "Oh? I'm surprised you have such a favorable impression of me. I despise you, though."
"Y-you too, Yukinon, don't be so harsh!" Yuigahama, forced to stand
between the two girls, was now struggling to extinguish Yukinoshita's anger.
You've got guts, kid! You're a little firefighter.
But water isn't always the right way to douse a fire. If you've got a chemical blaze, pouring water on it can just make it burn even hotter. This was exactly what was happening.
"Hey. Yui?" said Miura.
"…Whose side are you on here?" demanded Yukinoshita.
The flame queen's eyes were flaring wide, and the ice witch's tone of voice could freeze you solid. Together, they were indomitable. Is this Medoroa? This is so bad, even the Great Demon Lord Vearn would be in trouble.
"Eek!" Yuigahama shrank in terror, trembling like a leaf.
Oh dear. How frightening. "This tea sure is good, huh, Totsuka?" I commented. "Which reminds me, I wonder how Zaimokuza's doing right about now. I wonder if he's well."
"Don't ignore reality, Hachiman…" Nope. Too scary, not gonna.
Yukinoshita and Miura glared at each other. But fortunately, there were three people between them, so it didn't look like the conflict would escalate any further than that. All you can do with kids who don't get along is keep them apart, it's true. If you put them on opposite ends of the same row, they wouldn't even see each other's faces.
Komachi, who was in the buffer zone, piped up like she'd just had a flash of brilliance. "At first glance, Rumi has a pretty strong personality, so it might be hard for her to fit in with the elementary school girls, but once she gets a little older, I think she might be able to make friends with the A-group types, you know?"
Komachi was right. If you considered Rumi's future prospects, she was probably the type who would go on to enjoy school. Even if she didn't connect well with the other girls, the boys would be sure to fawn over her, and some girls might befriend her in anticipation of that. Ugh, how stupid.
Hayama nodded in agreement. "That's true. She's a little cold…or I suppose you could say she's rather chilly."
"Cold?" replied Miura. "More like condescending. She's all up on her high horse, don't you think? She's got this attitude like she thinks she's better than everyone, and that's why they're ostracizing her. Just like a certain someone we know." Miura giggled as if trying to provoke Yukinoshita.
But Yukinoshita's reply was indifferent. "That's just your persecution complex talking. Maybe you feel like I'm looking down on you because you're simply conscious of your own inferiority?"
Miura stood from the bench with a thump. "Ngh! Listen, it's because you say crap like that—"
"Stop it, Yumiko." Hayama's low request held Miura in check. Somehow, it was different from the flippant tone he'd used up until now; his voice was powerful and intense. Frankly, it was a little scary…
"Hayato… Hmph!" Miura seemed momentarily surprised by his attitude, but she backed off without protest. Not another word left her mouth after that.
A heavy silence fell over the rest of the table as well. In the end, nobody was in the mood for further conversation, and all that really got decided was that the matter would be put off for the next day. Well, that's politics.
But you know…if not even us high schoolers can get along, there's no way we can tell the elementary schoolers to.
5
All Alone, Yukino Yukinoshita Gazes Up At The Night Sky.
From the washing area came the classic kapon sound of the bath. I've always wondered what that noise was supposed to mean. The sound of a water bucket hitting the tile? I quickly washed my head, body, and face and then slipped all the way into the water.
This was a hot spring, they'd said. I was all refreshed after rinsing off the sweat, and I felt like the water was saturating me.
There was a big bathhouse in the visitor lodge. As is often the case for most field trips, camping trips, and other school events, when students stay overnight, they allot separate times for the boys and girls. This time, though, I was soaking in the regular bathroom in the manager's building.
Since our discussion earlier had gone on so long, there was only time for one group to use the big bathhouse, even though they clearly needed time for three: the boys, the girls, and Totsuka. After some negotiations, they let the boys use the regular bathroom. But, well, this tub wasn't much bigger than the one in a normal home, so we were going in one at a time. Most of the guys probably wouldn't be keen to share a bath with other guys anyway, so it all worked out.
Maybe if Totsuka and I bathed together, we could have both fit in at once, but in that case… Well, it'd be kinda like, you know, sorta… I mean, if on the off chance that Totsuka was actually a girl, my Gae Bolg would be sure to activate, and if he's a guy and my Gae Bolg went off, one thing might lead to another, and I'd have to remove the Bolg part…
So this was for the best.
When a guy has a bath, he finishes up as quickly as a crow in a birdbath. If Totsuka had bathed right before me, I'd be taking a slow soak, but it was Tobe and then Hayama, so I finished up quick. I toweled myself nice and dry in the small changing room and then groped around in my clothes basket. "Underwear, underwear…huh?" My hand encountered my boxers just as the door opened. In other words, even if I did put it on right that instant, I wouldn't have made it in time. Hawawa! Master, the enemy is here! >.<
The door slid open, and Totsuka's face greeted me. "Oh, Hachi…"
" "
And time resumes.
"Ah! Ah-ah-ah-ah! S-sorry!" Totsuka stammered.
"U-uhhhhh… U-uh, sorry, I guess!"
Flustered, Totsuka swiftly closed the door, and I swiftly got dressed. I got my underwear snugly Pilder-On and followed up with my T-shirt and shorts. All told, it probably took less than ten seconds.
"Y-you can come in now," I called.
The door opened slowly and extremely hesitantly, about three centimeters wide. Totsuka peeked through the gap, checking to see if it was safe. Letting out a sigh of relief, he entered the changing room. "S-sorry. I thought you were already done…" Totsuka apologized with a bow. But when he raised his head and his eyes met mine, his face flushed bright red, and he immediately looked away.
…Why is he blushing? Now I'm getting embarrassed.
"S-so…I'll be taking a bath now," he said.
"Y-yeah," I replied, and then we silently considered each other for a while more.
"Um… I'm going to…get undressed, so…"
Totsuka gazed up at me, eyes moist and almost accusatory as his hands grasped the hem of his shirt. "It bothers me a little…if you're watching the whole time."
"Oh, I see. Sorry, sorry. I'll go." Well, even if we were all guys here, it wouldn't be very pleasant to have someone stare at you while you change, I suppose. Closing the door behind me, I began to walk with the sound of running water behind me in my ears.
But man, that sure was nothing like the bath events I'm familiar with. Are the gods idiots? They wanna die?
If our positions had been reversed, at the very least… No, that would have been stupid, too.
Hayama and Tobe were already in the bungalow. It didn't look like they had much to do, seeing as they were mostly tapping away on their phones. Hayama was swiping along on some kind of tablet. Those cool, modern gestures make you look like you know what you're doing. People are so smug about those. I've said this before, and I don't know if anyone actually believes this, but they still need to wake up and realize it's the device that's amazing and not them.
There was a deck of cards lying at his feet, but they obviously weren't going to play with me. Occasionally, the two of them chatted between themselves. I made an autonomous decision to occupy the farthest corner of the room, laying out my futon and sliding under the covers. I rummaged around inside my bag, but there didn't seem to be anything in particular I could use to kill time. Even Komachi wasn't capable of preparing that much on such short notice.
Well, these days, you can do almost everything with just your cell phone. So I played around with mine off and on as I waited to get sleepy. Behind me, I overheard their conversation.
"Hey, hey, what're you looking at, Hayato? Porn?" asked Tobe.
"No, just books for studying. It's in a PDF," Hayama replied.
"Whoa, here comes the brainy vocabulary!"
I don't think there was a single brainy word in that whole exchange.
I suppose it is convenient to carry around schoolbooks as PDFs, huh? Lugging a pile of books all over gets really heavy, and then you end up forgetting one…
"You're so smart, Hayama," I said. I was talking to myself, and it didn't matter to me if anyone heard. Loners often make statements like that.
But of course, Hayama, incarnation of misplaced kindness that he was, had to respond. "I'm not really that smart."
"No way, man," said Tobe. "Your grades are, like, sick, Hayato! Like, you're up there in the humanities!"
I think sick generally carries a negative connotation, but I guess youngsters these days mean it as a good thing. It's just like saying, I don't like you at all, Big Brother!
"Well, I do have decent grades," Hayama replied with a vague smile, as if he was a little embarrassed.
Oh, is he one of those mildly obnoxious types who distinguish between test scores and intelligence?
"Decent?" said Tobe. "You're top of the class, aren't you?" "Yukinoshita beats me, though," he replied.
…
Oh, I get it. It's all becoming clear. I understand now why I've been forced to accept my third-place ranking all this time. It was because first and second place were already permanently occupied. So he had the looks, the personality, and the brains, huh? A combination worthy of despair, like a Potara-fused Goku and Vegeta. Like, why are these guys alive? Can't you just let me win in Japanese, at least?
Right when I was ready to go to bed in a huff, I heard the clack of the door opening. "Phew… I'm out of the bath." Totsuka was back, closing the door behind him with one hand. As he dried off his damp hair with a towel, he passed by me, trailing the gentle scent of shampoo behind him. He sat down with a soft thump and began to blow-dry his hair with a dryer he pulled from his bag. The contrast between his damp hair and his flushed skin, fresh out of the bath, was oddly sensuous. Before I knew what I was doing, I was zoning out and staring at him.
After giving his hair one final ruffle to check it was dry, Totsuka let out a satisfied sigh. "I'm all done, so…"
"Let's get to sleep, then," Hayama replied.
Tobe and Totsuka both started getting ready for bed. I had already put down my futon, so I had nothing to do. What foresight I have.
With some effort, Totsuka hauled his bedding over and laid it out next to mine. He glanced over at me, giving his pillow a couple of thumps. "I can…sleep here, right?"
"…Sure." As we stared at each other, the awkwardness of our earlier encounter in the bathhouse came rushing back. That was a mortifying recollection. Totsuka had seen everything… I believe at this point there may be no other option but for him to take responsibility and support me for life.
Totsuka didn't seem to be bothered by it, though, and he snuggled into his futon without any evident suspicion toward me. Hey, c'mon. From that position, if you roll around in your sleep, we'll end up kissing.
Hayama, done with his bed, reached out to the light switch. "I'm turning off the lights," he said, and with a click, the naked bulb hanging from the ceiling flickered out.
"Hey, Hayato," said Tobe. "Kinda feels like we're on a field trip, huh?"
"Yeah, sure does." Hayama gave a lukewarm reply. Maybe he was tired.
"…Let's talk about our crushes."
"Let's not." Surprisingly enough, Hayama shut that down stat.
Totsuka laughed a little uncomfortably. "Ah-ha-ha… I'd be kinda embarrassed," he said.
"Why not?!" Tobe demanded. "Come on, let's talk! Fine, I get it! I'll go first!"
He had undeniably brought up the subject because he wanted to talk about his.
A pair of rather tired sighs suggested that Hayama and Totsuka had reached the same conclusion.
"The truth is, I…," Tobe began. There wasn't much point in listening. He was going to say that he was into Miura. "…I think Ebina's kinda okay…"
"…Seriously?" I blurted out. That had been unexpected.
I think Tobe couldn't tell for a moment who had spoken, as his response was hesitant. "Huh? …Y-yeah. What, you were listening,
Hikitani? You were just lying there, so I thought you were asleep!"
"Hmm. I'm surprised, though. I thought you liked Miura," I replied.
"Aw, I can't make a move on Yumiko… She's too scary."
So you're scared of her, too, huh? That meant that by my reckoning, practically all the guys were afraid of her. Come on, I mean, even with ghosts or something, not everyone believes in them. In other words, Miura is natural-disaster level on the scale of terror. "For being scared of her, you sure do talk to her a lot. More than Ebina." "Y-yeah…that's just 'cause, like, you know that saying? Like, if you wanna shoot the general, first shoot the horse."
"Uh, I think Miura is clearly the general in this situation," I replied. But I had a surprising amount of empathy for him. The more you like a girl, the less you can converse with her. As a guy, I get that.
"Yui is pretty nice, too, but she's kinda dumb, you know?" he continued.
Ah, that's true. She is dumb. But I don't think it's quite so bad that it gives you the right to say that.
"Plus, she's kinda popular, so there's a lot of competition." ...Well, I'm sure that's true.
Guys like nice girls. Loser guys interpret their kindness as interest— they fall for that horrifyingly often—so Yuigahama was sure to catch plenty of fish. No other lure could even compete. Even Grander Musashi would blanch at such a huge catch. I'm not really surprised or bothered, so I don't think it's unusual or startling, and it doesn't bother me at all.
What the hell, this is really getting to me.
Tobe ignored my sighs and went on. "Ebina is, like, well, lots of people are weirded out, and guys, too, so I guess it sorta made me wanna go for her instead?"
He had a point—as you would expect of a member of the upper caste, Ebina was cute. But guys tended to avoid her because of her special interests. Actually, I got the feeling that advertising her interests so openly was her own attempt at a defense strategy. I think if she were the real deal, she would hide it. Well, I may be analyzing it too deeply, though.
Tobe must have realized that he was the only one sharing, as he turned the question on us. "What about you guys?"
"Do I like any girls? …Girls, huh… Mmm, not really," said Totsuka.
He doesn't like any girls. S-so what about boys? For some reason, my heart was pounding.
Tobe skipped over me, though, and moved on to Hayama. "What about you, Hayato?"
"I… No, forget it."
"Hey, hey, hey, Hayato, come on! You've got a crush, don't you? 'Fess up."
"…"
"Even just her first initial!"
Hayama gave a resigned sigh. "…Y."
"Y? Wait, so then do you mean—?"
"That's enough. Let's go to sleep." Hayama refused any further probing. He sounded angry, for once. Hayama's the kind of good guy who's nice to everyone, so I doubt he shows irritation often. To take a different perspective, perhaps that means he's willing to share another side of himself with Tobe.
"Now this is bugging me so much I can't sleep! If I die from insomnia, it'll be your fault, Hayato." Tobe casually deflected Hayato's anger with humor. It was a social technique often employed to prevent things from getting serious, a conventional method used to avoid turning relationships sour or making things awkward.
I stared blankly into the quiet darkness. Who was that Y that Hayama had been referring to? A number of options flashed through my mind.
The room felt oddly tense, so despite the silence, I couldn't fall asleep. I rolled over and found Totsuka's face right there in front of me. His slow, even breathing told me he was asleep.
"…Nhn." He sighed. A ray of moonlight pouring in through the window softly illuminated his face. His glistening lips were moving very slightly, as if murmuring someone's name. He looked happy, smiling softly and gently.
The restlessness I'd been feeling transformed into a coil around my chest. Now that I had noticed Totsuka's lips, I couldn't stop thinking about them. I was hyperaware of every sound he made as he stirred in his sleep, every light breath he took. "I'm not gonna get to sleep here…" Peeking at the cell phone by my hand, I was surprised to find it wasn't even eleven. I guess once you get away from the city, time passes more slowly. There was no clatter of trains or brilliant streetlights. It was a quiet night.
Going outside to get some night air would probably calm me down. I stood up quietly, so as not to wake the other three, and left the bungalow. A night in the highlands. The tranquil cool gradually stilled my heart…
Or so I thought. It was actually just terrifying. Like, there was something hooting, and just a few leaves rustling was enough to make me squeak. Trembling on this inside, I scanned the area. I thought I could see a figure among the trees… Something incorporeal… Or maybe just arboreal. Yeah. The alternative would have been too scary.
Anyway, the point is that it was not a tree spirit, or a dryad, as they say in English. I don't even know if dryad is English in the first place. Among the trees stood a girl with long, flowing hair. Something about the scene was removed from reality, like a vision of a spirit or fairy of some sort. Under the gentle rays of moonlight, her white skin seemed to glow. With every puff of wind that blew past, her hair fluttered and danced. She looked like a fairy as she bathed in the silver light, singing quietly, oh-so-very quietly.
In the dark, chilly forest, her whisper-like melody sounded oddly pleasant in my ears. I only watched her. If I took even one step forward, I would shatter that little world that she had created all by herself. I was reluctant to make a sound. Figuring I should go back, I slowly turned around to return the way I had come. But when I stepped forward, my foot broke a twig with a snap.
The singing instantly ceased.
"…"
"…"
One second, two seconds, three seconds passed as we tried to identify each other in the darkness.
"…Who is it?" The voice belonged to a normal girl, Yukino Yukinoshita.
I could have tried meowing like a cat, and maybe she'd be like, Oh, did a cat hear me sing? but this is Yukinoshita, so she would probably actually have been like, Oh, it's just that thing.
So I resigned myself and approached her. "…It's me."
"…Who?"
"Why are you repeating the question? You know who I am." Don't give me the quizzical head tilt. The cuteness factor just makes it even more aggravating, come on.
"What are you doing up at this hour?" she asked. "You need to get your eternal sleep."
"Could you not pronounce my death by pretending to be concerned for me?"
Yukinoshita looked away as if to say she had no further interest in me, lifting her head toward the sky instead. Following her lead, I gazed up into a clear and starry sky.
"Were you looking at the stars?" I asked. You could see them so well out here compared with in the city. When there's no other lights around, the stars shine clearer. In that case, I bet loners shine extra hard, since there are so few others around them. Oh man, my future is bright.
"Not particularly," she replied.
Oh, so she wasn't doing the At the Mercy of the Sky thing? So was this the Heaven's Lost Property thing, then?
"Miura sort of came after me…" Yukinoshita's head drooped in despair.
Oh-ho, that's a rare sight. I was sure no one could talk her down. I'd expect nothing less of Miura. Confronting the queen of fire is a date with defeat indeed.
"I argued her into the ground for half an hour and made her cry. It was immature of me…"
Her Majesty of Ice is far too powerful. Never mind a Date with defeat, she's a Nobunaga with defeat. "So of course things got awkward, and you went outside, huh?"
"Yes. I didn't expect her to cry… Yuigahama is consoling her right now." Perhaps tears were too much, even for Yukinoshita. She seemed a tad remorseful.
Damn, I might as well cast my inhibitions aside about bawling my eyes out in front of her, too. Lame.
Yukinoshita smoothed down her hair, and as if that were some kind of signal, she changed the subject. "We should…do something about that girl."
"You seem awfully gung ho about helping some kid you don't know." "The Service Club has done nothing but help people I don't know. I don't reach out just because I'm personally acquainted with someone. Plus…don't you think she's…somehow like Yuigahama?"
"Oh?" I didn't, not at all. She bore a far closer resemblance to a certain someone else.
Yukinoshita looked up at me, a trace of sorrow in her eyes. "I think she's probably…had an experience of that nature."
Oh, if that was her meaning, then I got that. Yuigahama was certainly more conscious of class politics than anyone else was. I don't really want to think much about it, but…I'm sure she's gotten sucked into the mob mentality once or twice.
And that was why she got it. She understood those feelings of guilt. Yuigahama's kindness was not blind benevolence. Her compassion was born of her awareness of the repulsive, ugly, and cowardly nature of humanity, and she nevertheless reached out without averting her eyes.
"And…" Yukinoshita hung her head, gently kicking a pebble at her feet. "…I'm sure Hayama has been concerned, too."
"Yeah, well, I wouldn't be surprised." I guess you could say he's got a certain disposition. Like some kind of legendary end-of-century leader. He might just have a predisposition to being a hero. He was probably raised on classic manga from Shonen Jump magazine. He wouldn't have had an easy and sheltered upbringing like me.