— Big Brother, I'm here! — Hearing that shout from behind, I barely managed to turn around and catch my sister, who decided to jump onto me in a rush.
— I'm endlessly glad to hear that news, — I set the girl down, carefully ignoring the interested glances from students and guests. Looking around, I realized my sister had come completely alone, although, if I remembered correctly, she planned to come with her friends.
— They backed out in the end, — reading my unvoiced question, the schoolgirl shrugged. — It's no big deal, though; I'll find something to do anyway. Or did you actually prepare an entertainment program for me?
I smiled awkwardly, scratching the back of my head. It wasn't that I had completely forgotten her request—I even had a reminder on my phone!—but in the rush of the final days of preparation, I literally hadn't found the time.
— I understand perfectly, but I'll forgive you this time, — grabbing my hand, Komachi confidently pulled me forward toward the main building. Shaking my head, I signaled to Tanaka, who was watching us with a smile from the side, to take my place. My deputy nodded understandingly, adjusted the red armband on his shoulder, and hurried to stand by the gate, greeting visitors. Of course, this should be the volunteers' job, but as yesterday's practice showed, there was a catastrophic lack of people, which is why even our department was included in the shift schedule.
— Would you like to take a photo as a souvenir? — A member of the organizing committee, seemingly from the suppliers, flew up to us from the side and showed us a camera provided by the student council.
— We would! — My sister didn't let me answer, pressing against my side. Sighing, I tried to put on the most photogenic expression possible.
After waiting for the flash, I blinked a couple of times, getting rid of the glare in my eyes. During that time, Komachi managed to snatch the resulting picture from the guy's fingers, examining it closely.
— Not bad. I'll have to show it to Mom and Dad when they get back, — the girl mumbled. I patted her head, earning an embarrassed "Hey!", and then watched the amateur photographer rush off to the next "victims." The student narrowly avoided stumbling, somehow regaining his balance. I hope he doesn't break the council's property, or else he'll have to listen to a long and scathing tirade from the head of the finance department, who is the officially accountable person for the equipment. I sympathize in advance.
— By the way, how did the first day go? I wanted to ask yesterday, but someone came home so exhausted that I felt bad bothering him again, — cupping my fingers with her palm, my sister asked, looking with interest at the motley crowds of people wandering the school yard, which we had repurposed into a platform of sorts with many stalls and attractions. It can't compare to an amusement park, but still, considering everything was made from makeshift materials, I actually feel a sense of pride.
— Not bad, in principle, — I suppressed a yawn. — It would have been nicer if I'd had a chance to visit a couple of things, but there was a problem with the posters, so I had to hastily rework everything.
— Aw-w-w… — my sister drew out disappointedly. — You really didn't go anywhere at all?
— Nope, — I replied, keeping a poker face.
I couldn't exactly tell her about the mandatory viewing of the class play—thanks to the Puppy for forcing me against my will—could I? No, I don't deny Hina's talent and the efforts of the people who poured their souls into the production, but…
Ahem, let's just say the genre definitely wasn't for me. They seemed to keep the original leitmotif of "The Little Prince," but on the other hand, it "smelled" extremely unique. The only consolation was Totsuka, who truly embodied the role, which caused several girls to shed a tear. Well, or they were just disappointed by the absence of a kiss at the end.
...Perhaps I should thank Yumiko again for managing to talk her friend out of introducing such a "creative" plot point. My eyes would not have survived the passionate smooching between Hayato and Saika.
— Then maybe we can go see your class's performance? Yui was raving about it! — Komachi offered innocently.
Barely suppressing an instinctive shudder, I gave a wry smile.
— Sorry, but I think you should go there alone. I don't really like those kinds of things.
— But, Big Bro-o-o, I want to go with you, — the schoolgirl whined, making puppy eyes at me. Sighing loudly, I gathered the rest of my willpower.
— Honestly, I would...
A voice from behind saved me from clumsy excuses.
— Hachiman! Hey there!
Considering that only two people outside of family publicly called me by my first name, and Yuigahama was busy preparing for the performance, only one option remained...
— And hello to you too... Haruno, — turning halfway around, I politely greeted the elder Yukinoshita, hoping she hadn't noticed the slight delay in my words. The reason for the delay was the girl's appearance; she was wearing a tight, dark lilac dress that favorably highlighted her exposed shoulders and slender waist.
Did it suit her? Undeniably.
— What? Stunned by my beauty? — Yep, just as if the Troll would miss an opportunity to tease; my naivety knows no bounds. — I'll take that as a compliment. Oh, by the way, is this your little sister?
And, like a typhoon, Haruno was suddenly next to Komachi, scrutinizing her from all sides. The schoolgirl, clearly not expecting this, watched her in bewilderment, gripping my hand tightly.
— Komachi, this is Haruno, Yukino's older sister. Haruno, this is Komachi, — gently pushing the overly insistent person aside, I introduced them to each other.
— Nice to meet you, — regaining her composure, my darling squinted. — And who are you to my brother?
— Oh-ho-ho? — Yukinoshita chuckled, putting a finger to her cheek. — I don't even know. Hachiman and I have a very strange relationship; it's not easy to define, is it?
She glanced at me sideways, not hiding the mockery in her look, as if hinting: "Go ahead, your move."
Thank you for at least not saying, "I'm his girlfriend," leaving room for maneuvering. Moreover, her move was somewhat expected, so, fortunately, I had time to think up a suitable response for a similar situation.
— Well, Haruno is right. Our relationship can't be described in two words, — at my remark, the elder Yukinoshita smiled contentedly, nodding her head. — Look: we met completely by chance, we both like to play with words, and we're planning to go on a date with a family psychotherapist.
Komachi, who had been listening attentively to my speech, choked on air at the last words.
— What, what? Where exactly are you going, sorry? — The schoolgirl, coughing, shifted her astonished gaze from me to the Troll.
— Oh, you didn't know? Your brother has a special sense of taste, — Haruno winked at the girl. — How could I resist?
— Big Brother, correct me if I'm wrong, but... — my sister took a breath. — Did you ask a strange woman out on a date to see a doctor?!
She took both my hands in hers and looked intently into my eyes.
— C-couldn't you have just turned her down?! Isn't that too cruel a way to do it? — It looked like Komachi was about to cry. Knowing her, I understood this was just playing to the audience.
...Just like all three of us.
— Hachiman is a true gentleman; he would never say such a rude thing to a lady, — if Yukinoshita had previously shown slight interest and only saw an opportunity to subtly needle me in our interaction, now her gaze toward my darling held something predatory.
— Then it means you took advantage of his weakness? — My sister turned her back to me and stood as if shielding me from danger. — Well then, don't even think about it! Without my approval, you won't be getting the title of "Auntie"!
Haruno covered her mouth with her hand and laughed.
— Now I have no doubt that she's your sister, — an unexpectedly pleasant compliment from her. Leaning in, the girl addressed the schoolgirl: — Don't worry, I won't eat him.
— Will you play with him and then dump him? — Komachi still grumbled distrustfully. — I won't let you; he's mine!
— Tsk-tsk, and what if I ask really, really nicely? — the Troll joined her game.
— Big Brother is not for sale! — she cast a questioning look at me: — Right?
Finally, an opportunity arose for me to interject my weighty opinion.
— Definitely, — I placed my hand on my sister's shoulder. — I'm perfectly capable of saying "no."
Haruno's eyes widened. And I bit my tongue, realizing what a foolish thing I had just blurted out.
— And you're ready to go against your sister? — she asked with sadistic pleasure in her voice.
She certainly has experience: with one question, she trapped me in a stalemate. More accurately, I trapped myself with my own answer: initially, I didn't refuse the elder Yukinoshita, thus I agreed. However, Komachi clearly indicated that she would only accept the girl with her approval. Consequently, I either reject Haruno now, or Komachi.
Dangerous...
— Why go to extremes? All you have to do is make her like you to get her blessing, — I had to resort to using a fifteen-year-old girl as a shield. Shame on you, Hachiman!
— Oh, I didn't realize you were so serious! — the girl exclaimed as if nothing happened, but I could detect faint nervous notes in her tone.
Which was understandable, as it was now her turn for a difficult choice. If she said she just wanted to hang out, it would contradict her own words about "playing and dumping." If she went along with it...
Wait.
I glanced sideways at my sister. My darling, I underestimated your abilities. On one hand, I'm proud; on the other, darn it...
While the elder Yukinoshita was looking for a way out of the situation, Komachi seized the moment and, turning to me, said:
— You're right, Big Brother! With a girl like that, you have to start a relationship with a psychotherapist. I bow to your wisdom.
She bowed deeply, hiding a satisfied smile, and then stood next to me.
Haruno winced for a moment, having taken a noticeable "hit." It's probably unpleasant when someone hints that you have mental problems.
This isn't like roasting Snowball.
— Now, now, don't exaggerate. She is beautiful, after all, — I clicked my tongue, watching the university student's reaction.
Her smile wavered.
— I'm glad you finally admitted it out loud, — she tilted her head. — However, don't you believe in the purity of my intentions?
Tell that to Hayato, sure. But I credit her for the attempt at damage control.
I looked at my sister. She chuckled and shrugged, implying, "You decide."
— That is checked exclusively by time, — I smiled gently.
— And by the sincerity of your actions, — Komachi chimed in, hugging my arm.
Haruno narrowed her eyes.
— True brother and sister; I'm almost a little envious, — just then, a short ringtone sounded from her handbag. Frowning, the girl pulled out her cell phone.
After reading the received message, Yukinoshita sighed regretfully.
— Unfortunately, I have to rush to a rehearsal, so we'll come back to this conversation a little later.
Smiling sweetly, she snapped her phone shut.
— Komachi, right? I've memorized you! — and, waving her hand, she disappeared into the crowd.
A convenient excuse to run away, I'll give her that.
My sister blinked a couple of times, watching her leave, and asked thoughtfully:
— Did we see her after summer camp when she came to pick up Yukinon? Was that her?
— Right on the dot.
— And she didn't remember me?
— Well, — I chuckled, — you didn't remember her immediately either.
— I see-e-e. By the way, I wouldn't mind hearing the full version of your meeting with that interesting person...
A menacing note flashed in her tone.
Atsuko, if you can hear me, now is the time to call and ask for urgent assistance that cannot be postponed!
***
My mental plea did not reach my deputy's ears, and as a result, I had to spend a good fifteen minutes explaining to Komachi all the twists and turns of my complicated relationship with Haruno.
— You sure know how to find trouble for yourself out of nowhere, — my sister snorted, happily munching on the cotton candy bought at one of the stalls.
— It's not my fault; they just gravitate toward me, — sighing, I looked over the people scurrying through the corridor, either lining up for class events or gathering in random groups. The latter were being diligently broken up by student council members so as not to block the passageways.
— Well, I think you'll manage it. I'll accept any decision you make, — looking regretfully at the empty stick, the girl threw it into the nearest trash can.
— What about your words about "approval"? — I chuckled.
Komachi glanced at me sideways, answering my question with a single look. Smiling briefly, I refrained from patting her head. Too many people—she would get embarrassed.
— Hachiman? — It seems I'm going to develop a reflex to the sound of my own name soon. At least the desire to run away arose instantly.
— Oh, Yui! — my sister exclaimed happily and, letting go of my hand, rushed toward her friend.
— Komachi! — The Puppy grabbed the schoolgirl in a hug.
— Yui! — the girl repeated, burying her face in my classmate's chest.
I rubbed the bridge of my nose, pondering the logic of what was happening around me, as sometimes everything resembled an absurd play.
— I don't want to spoil the touching moment of reunion, — I walked closer, discreetly coughing into my fist. — However, did something happen?
Pulling away from my sister, Yuigahama pouted:
— Can't I even say hello anymore?
— You can, — I slightly raised the corners of my mouth, omitting the fact that people most often address me only to burden my mind with another problem.
Yui shook her head and turned to Komachi:
— Let's ditch this gloomy guy and go watch the play, — she winked conspiratorially at the schoolgirl: — I promise you'll love it.
My darling thought for a moment, pursing her lips, and then agreed with a satisfied look.
— So that's how it is, — I clicked my tongue. — I didn't expect such a stab in the back from my closest person.
My sister slowly raised an eyebrow.
I responded in kind.
After standing like that for ten seconds, we both snorted simultaneously.
— Fine, go have fun. I needed to do my rounds anyway.
— Good luck. If anything happens, I'll text you!
Nodding, I waved goodbye to the girls and, turning around, headed in the opposite direction from them.
In a way, I was grateful to the Puppy, as she definitely understands the meaning of the word "fun" better than I do, so Komachi won't be bored with her. Plus, Yui earned extra karma points for not dragging me along, apparently noticing how much I "enjoyed" Ebina's play. No, it wasn't that bad, but like some dishes—purely an acquired taste.
Stepping outside, I shielded my eyes from the sun's rays, simultaneously estimating my future route, because, regarding the rounds, I didn't lie, I just omitted a small detail—I wasn't actually obliged to do them.
Having decided on my trajectory, I slowly shuffled between the street stalls, looking at the displayed merchandise with mild interest. It should be noted that compared to the previous day, the assortment had expanded, and the prices had gone up a bit. However, it was quite understandable: one thing for your own people, another for guests.
The evenings spent in agonizing brainstorming were not in vain. The number of visitors exceeded expectations. Yes, this meant more work for the volunteers, but it doesn't diminish the fact that the audience attraction work was successful. Maybe I should go into advertising after graduation? I hear they earn good money. But then I can definitely forget about a peaceful life...
— Oh, the winds of change are truly on my side today! — Passing by one of the stalls, I heard a familiar style of speech.
He must be addressing someone else...
— Whither have you directed your steps, my loyal comrade? Do you not yearn to hear my tales of praise over a cup of strong ambrosia?!
Exhaling loudly, I turned ninety degrees, looking at the proud smirk of Zaimokuza, who was standing behind a counter five meters away from me.
— Do not stand idle, approach, and behold the marvelous goods that my apprentices have created for the delight of human eyes! — Passing visitors cast wary glances toward Yoshiteru and diligently pretended to be interested in something completely elsewhere.
A marketing genius, what more can be said.
— Shout less; you'll scare away the last of the customers, — I smiled in a friendly way, walking closer and picking up a small plastic object. If you squint and use a little imagination, it resembles a lizard.
— Ha! If their spirits are weak, let them seek another path, for the feeble will not attain the true might of art! — The guy crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his nose up.
— What even is this? — The other objects on display were also difficult to identify.
— O-o-oh!... — Zaimokuza turned his head and, achieving a glare on his glasses' lenses, proclaimed: — This is the creation of the hands of the young geniuses of my clan, an imitation of the most complex art, whose name is Surrealism!
And I think it looks more like a reason to consult a psychiatrist. Of course, someone will call me a troglodyte and a person completely devoid of a sense of beauty, but...
I turned the incomprehensible object, which looked like a melted cube, over in my hands.
— What is this? — giving up on trying to find any meaning in it, I addressed the guy.
— Fu-fu, how can this be? Is the glorious God of War unable to see the true essence of the object in his hands with his inner vision? — Adjusting his frames, Yoshiteru pointed an accusing finger at me.
I blinked.
— So what is it? — I repeated the question.
Zaimokuza laughed nervously.
— W-well... — he darted his eyes around, then ducked under the table and pulled out a colorful ball. — Behold the true antiquity, guarded by seven seals for ten thousand years...
— I understand, — I chuckled, returning the "cube" to its place. — How have you been? We haven't talked in a while.
The guy, interrupting his speech full of praises, fell silent.
— In principle, I wouldn't say it's bad, — putting the exhibit back, Yoshiteru sat down wearily on a chair. — Originally, my heart was set on creating a beautiful play, but my enemies, having taken the form of malicious critics, denounced the idea.
— Did you try to push a Shonen into the masses again?
— Why not? — Zaimokuza shrugged. — But since no one is ready to lend a hand in a moment of most difficult battle, I had to put my katana back in its sheath and retreat to gather strength for a counterattack.
That's why he's sitting behind a counter. It means he tried to create something similar to Ebina's concept but missed the mark with the audience demand.
— Will there be a chance?
— There will be, — the guy nodded. — Next month, when the moon is at its peak, a writing skills festival will be held. I submitted an application to participate, and it was approved!
— Congratulations, — I rubbed my eyes. — I hope you didn't hand in a complete plagiarism this time?
— Your words, God of War, pierce the soul like sharp, poison-tipped darts, — Yoshiteru replied with apparent indignation. — It's purely my creation, like a baby's soul!
— I'll take your word for it, — glancing sideways, I noticed a young couple with a child approaching the counter. — Alright, good luck.
And, after a thought, I added:
— Try not to overdo it. Style is good, but you definitely won't sell anything this way.
Zaimokuza chuckled, rising from the chair.
— What can I do? Deadly boredom has overcome me, — he smiled. — And thank you for the support.
Nodding goodbye, I continued my rounds, albeit with much less enthusiasm. Despite the autumn, the weather was warm, so ten minutes later, I decided to sit down on one of the many benches in the courtyard.
People of all ages passed by: elderly folks, middle school and elementary school students, I even spotted a couple of university students from a neighboring city.
At one point, my gaze caught a familiar dark-haired head. Looking closer, I recognized Tsurumi Rumi, the girl with whom I spent most of my time as a counselor at summer camp. Even more surprising was that she wasn't walking in proud solitude or arm in arm with her parents, but was laughing cheerfully, discussing something with two other schoolgirls. They didn't seem to be from her class—I wasn't sure, given my "excellent" memory for faces. And one of them was clearly older.
I smiled involuntarily, watching Tsurumi grab her friends' hands and briskly pull them toward Zaimokuza's stall. It was somehow unusual to see such activity from her. I remember her more as a sad child with dull eyes and a broken heart...
That last overly dramatic thought made me want to hit myself, but I held back.
I'm glad she didn't follow my path, because, in her case, things would have been much worse. Not everyone has a loving sister, thanks to whom there's a chance to escape the abyss of regret and melancholy. And friends are something, at least.
I wonder how my life would have turned out if Komachi had disappeared from it?...
The incessantly moving stream of people obscured the group of girls from my sight. Closing my eyes, I sighed and got up from the bench, cutting off the unpleasant thoughts.
I could have gone up, said hello to Tsurumi, and asked how she was, but why? She was clearly having a good time in the company of friends, and since she hadn't written during all the time that passed, either her problems had resolved themselves, or she had stopped paying such close attention to them.
So, all that remains is to mentally wish her luck.
***
The last stop on my rounds was the auditorium, where a concert, opening with Haruno's performance, was supposed to start at that very time.
Honestly, when I first heard about the elder Yukino's talent, I couldn't help but be amazed. Where does a person get so much time? Or, more accurately, so much dedication? She's the heiress of a large company, constantly attending official events, and on top of that, she's a university student. Finding time for a hobby in such a packed schedule? Nothing but a pure sense of respect comes to mind.
The hall was packed to the brim. Volunteers were scurrying through the aisles, bringing in extra chairs and beanbags for guests to sit on. An expected frenzy, considering that this event occupied almost the most prominent spot on the festival poster.
Moving around people, I went up to the second floor, which served as a kind of balcony, offering a great view of the stage.
Initially, I wanted to approach the railing to fully enjoy the upcoming concert, but I changed my mind when I noticed Snowball and Sagami nearby, standing with their backs to me and occupying the spot I wanted. In principle, I could stand a little further back, but then I'd have to shove aside other people who wanted to watch the performance.
Smiling to myself, I leaned my back against the wall, watching the chairman and her deputy out of the corner of my eye.
Due to the hum in the hall, it was impossible to hear what they were talking about, but it was enough that the girls didn't look like they were about to have a falling out. It seemed more like a conversation between two colleagues who happened to meet on a coffee break.
It's amazing how quickly relationships between people can change, especially when you can't observe the process directly.
Sometimes I was tempted to ask Yukino, "What did Minami say that made all your conflict vanish?" Although, it would be more accurate to ask, "Who told you the right approach?"
It's not that I doubted the girl's ability to mend relationships with someone...
I chuckled.
...Who am I kidding?
Such an outcome had the lowest probability of all available options. I actually thought they would end up quarreling to the point of no return, which would send the whole festival down the drain.
Fortunately, my assumptions were wrong.
Perhaps my sister is right: sometimes it really is better to leave the solution to chance. Who knows, perhaps if I had interfered, the situation would have taken the worst possible turn?
It's a shame that's not always the case.
Suddenly, the lights in the hall went out, and the spotlights focused their glow on the stage.
Haruno, standing in the middle, waved her conductor's baton, and in the same second, the orchestra began to play, filling the room with music.
The lively composition chosen by the girl was unfamiliar to me, but judging by the delighted whispers and dropped jaws, the audience clearly appreciated it.
At one point, I even started tapping my fingers on my leg in time with the melody, involuntarily watching the elder Yukinoshita. With skillful and precise movements of her hands, the girl controlled the musicians as if she did something like this every day. I wonder how much effort it took to acquire such a skill?
Tearing my gaze away from her, I briefly scanned the audience below—as much as my location allowed—and couldn't help but smile, noticing a very familiar group of people standing in the aisle among them.
It was difficult for me to make out their facial expressions, but judging by the fact that Komachi was swaying to the music while holding Yuigahama's hand, I doubt they were unhappy with what was happening.
I hope my sister will have the brightest memories of this festival. All that hard work wasn't for nothing, was it?
The Puppy was only swaying slightly from side to side, but I could imagine her delighted smile from here—Yui was always overly sensitive. Not that this was a bad thing. Just one of her amusing traits that I noticed during our interactions.
After watching the performance for a few minutes and waiting for a short intermission, I quietly descended from the balcony and exited the auditorium, trying not to attract unnecessary attention.
Blinking a couple of times, getting used to the sunlight, I looked around, pondering my next steps. Theoretically, nothing prevented me from texting Komachi or the Puppy to join them after the concert, but after weighing all the pros and cons, I abandoned the idea.
I've had an overabundance of social activity for today as it is.
Ideally, I should find a quiet and peaceful place where I can calmly wait for the closing ceremony.
Looking around, I hummed thoughtfully, staring at the main building's roof.
And why not? No one should be up there at this time, so no one should bother me. Plus, it's not far to walk. The main thing is not to run into anyone I know on the way. I've had enough conversations and encounters for today.
***
Wincing at the squeak of the door hinges—I should really oil them—I successfully stepped out onto the roof, immediately squinting from the gust of wind that hit my face.
— Decided to run away after all, Hikigaya? — Hearing Hiratsuka's voice, I froze.
You're kidding me, right?
Turning around, barely maintaining a calm expression, I stared at the Sensei sitting on the railing. The hem of her coat was freely billowing in the air, as was her long, loose hair, creating a strange but memorable picture.
— 'Sup, — the woman waved a cigarette held between her fingers.
— And good health to you too, — I glanced briefly at the door, mentally sighing, suppressing the urge to find another place for solitude.
— Why so gloomy? Did you want to be in proud solitude, indulging in a session of self-reflection? — Noticing the surprise that flashed across my face, Shizuka smiled wryly. — Thought you were the only one like that? Ha!
Shaking my head, I regained my momentarily shaken composure and, walking closer, stood next to the teacher, leaning my hands on the railing.
— Are you shirking your duties? — I asked, looking at Hiratsuka sideways.
The Sensei snorted, flicking ash off the roof.
— The exact same question goes to you, — she paused, taking a drag, — head of the advertising department.
— Touché, — I smiled briefly.
— By the way, — after finishing her cigarette, Shizuka put the butt in a portable ashtray and jumped off the railing. — Do you even realize how shocked I was when I saw a certain someone taking on such responsibility on their own, without being forced?
With those words, she put her arm around my shoulders. Not that I was against it, but such abrupt physical contact momentarily threw me off balance again.
But I guess I won't pull away, even though the distinct smell of tobacco hits my nose.
If it's offered, take it; if you're being beaten, run. That's what they say, I think.
— Did you expect me to sit on the sidelines, trying to stay unnoticed? — If I think about it, when was the last time I talked to Hiratsuka? During the selection of the class representative for the festival organizing committee?
— Tell me, who among the people who know you even slightly expected otherwise? — the Sensei asked with a smile, finally releasing me from her grip.
Automatically straightening my wrinkled jacket, I shrugged:
— I like to deceive other people's expectations.
A chuckle came from Shizuka.
— In that case, I wouldn't mind if you continued in the same vein, — she leaned her hand on the railing, smoothing her hair that had been tangled by the gusts of wind with her palm.
— Are you sure about your words? — I raised an eyebrow.
— Hikigaya, are you daring to threaten me? — Hiratsuka asked in a playful tone.
— As if I would risk it, — I looked up, watching the clouds slowly drifting across the sky. — Last time it ended with me joining the Service Club.
— And what about it? Is that bad? — she lightly nudged me with her shoulder. — At least a lot of new things, things you never suspected, have appeared in your life.
— M-m-m... — I nodded, closing my eyes. — Headaches, a bunch of unnecessary worries, and on top of that, premature gray hair, tremors, and a nervous tic.
I paused.
— Oh, right, but Komachi is happy.
— Is that all? — Shizuka asked, surprisingly calmly.
I looked at her sideways.
— What else?
The Sensei clicked her tongue.
— Hikigaya, stop playing the protagonist of a teen drama. Did you forget about Yukinoshita and Yuigahama?
— Is something wrong with them? — I guessed what she was trying to lead up to, but I wasn't going to make the woman's task easier.
If I'm forced to participate in a conversation I'm not particularly interested in, I'll try to extract maximum benefit from it.
At least moral satisfaction.
— Listen, I'm perfectly aware of your habit of frustrating people, — the Sensei took out a second cigarette and lit it. — And that you prefer to do this when the topic of conversation is unpleasant or inconvenient for you.
— Then why start? — I asked without any hidden motive, watching the grey smoke clouds slowly dissipate in the air.
— I want to hear the admission from your lips.
— I'll wait until graduation. You're not in a hurry, are you?
Hiratsuka frowned.
— Hikigaya! — and, meeting my mocking gaze, she froze, after which, to my satisfaction, a whole string of emotions flashed across her face: confusion, irritation, embarrassment, and finally, resignation.
— Sometimes you're unbearable, — the Sensei lowered her head, massaging her brows.
I said nothing, resting my chin on my folded hands.
Somewhere below, people continued to bustle, looking like small, indistinct silhouettes from this height. The echoes of music were still coming from the auditorium. The faint smell of street food lingered in the air.
The relaxed atmosphere of the festival.
...And the most pleasant thing is that I'm observing it from the sidelines.
— You know, Sensei, whatever you may think... — Smiling wearily, I looked thoughtfully at the sunset spreading across the sky. — I simply proved that I can do what others want from me without changing who I am.
— What do you mean? — Hiratsuka asked with an unreadable tension in her voice.
Turning my head, I looked her in the eyes.
— That for me, your "youth" remained a lie.
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