Episode 21: Even Though All I Have to Do Is Say It, This Is Just Too Convenient.
Culture festival day.
Our class’s café was a massive success — the smell of coffee mixed with lively chatter, the classroom staying packed almost the entire time.
Classmates in matching aprons kept bustling around.
“Yotsuka, we’ve got a customer!”
“Oh, got it!”
At that familiar voice, I snapped back to attention and readjusted the tray in my arms.
Makina, the one who’d called out, was showing a newly arrived customer to their seat with a smile several times brighter than usual.
She looked so natural doing it, dazzling even — like she’d been the star of a place like this from the very start.
“Yotsuka, these plates, can you take them?”
“Got it.”
Makina held out an empty glass and plate across the counter.
I reached out to take them.
For just a second, our fingertips almost touched.
The instant they nearly did, that softness on my lips, that heart-scorching heat — all of it came rushing back, raw and vivid.
“Ah…”
My body stiffened, flinching as if struck.
Like pulling away from something dirty, I yanked my hand back, plainly, obviously.
“…”
Makina’s outstretched fingers froze in midair for a moment.
I could tell — for just an instant, her eyes widened, hurt.
But almost immediately, she snapped back into her usual customer-service smile and returned to serving as if nothing had happened.
Watching her back, I gripped the tray in my hands tighter.
The past whispered coldly in my head again.
Someone like you has no right to be beside Makina.
◇◆◇◆◇
Once the culture festival ended and the noise cleared out, the hallway stretched long with the orange light of sunset.
“Good work, Yotsuka.”
Makina, done with cleanup, walked over and spoke to me.
“Good work.”
“That was fun, wasn’t it? The festival. Wasn’t it a huge success?”
“…Yeah.”
Unable to meet her eyes, all I could manage was a vague, half-hearted reply.
Makina had been watching me closely, but then she glanced out the window.
“Oh, right.”
Her face brightened suddenly, like she’d just remembered something.
“Let’s go to the after-party? Sounds like they’re doing a campfire on the field.”
A straightforward, honest invitation. To me, right now, it felt unbearably extravagant — and unbearably painful.
“Ah… sorry, I need to use the bathroom real quick…”
“Oh, then, wait, I’ll—”
“No, it’s fine! I’ll catch up right away, go on ahead.”
Cutting her off before she could finish, I turned my back on Makina.
“…Okay. See you at the field, then.”
She said it, her tone dropping just slightly, and walked off down the hallway toward the after-party venue.
I stood rooted to the spot, unable to do anything but watch her back until it disappeared from view.
Watching that retreating back, I finally understood.
What I’m most afraid of right now isn’t Makina hating me. It’s that I’m the one who believes, more strongly than anyone, that I deserve to be hated.
◇◆◇◆◇
A huge roar of cheering echoed from the field.
Sounds like the after-party’s started.
Looking down out the window, under a sky just starting to darken, a bright red campfire crackled and swayed violently, scattering sparks.
Everyone’s over there, in that light and noise.
And yet, I’m alone, still in this dark, empty classroom.
I lied about going to the bathroom, ran straight back to the classroom instead, and now I’m slumped face-down over my desk, unable to move.
In the silent classroom, the sudden sound of the door sliding open echoed through the air.
“…Yotsuka?”
Past the darkness, in the gap of the doorway, stood a figure, shoulders rising and falling, breathing hard.
“Wh— why are you here…?”
Standing there was Makina — who should have been on the field.
“I was looking for you. Everyone’s out on the field, but you weren’t there.”
Catching her breath, Makina walked slowly into the classroom.
The red light of the campfire outside flickered irregularly through the dark room, casting an eerie glow across the side of her face.
Makina walked up to the seat right next to mine, pulled out the chair, and sat down quietly.
Normally, she’d be looking at me, teasing me. But right now, she wasn’t smiling at all.
“Hey.”
A quiet voice, but one with a coldness and desperation I’d never heard from her before, struck my eardrums.
“Have you been avoiding me, this whole time?”
“…………”
My heart gave an ugly, jarring lurch.
My throat tightened, and not a single word would come out.
Makina’s straightforward gaze bore into me as I stayed silent, refusing to let me escape.
“Just tell me properly. Why? Did I do something?”
Those words tore through the dark classroom, sharp enough to rip straight through my already breaking heart.