Thanks to nearly an hour of careful explanation, the two underclassmen managed to finish submitting their paperwork just as the supervising teacher was about to head home. By the end, the brown-haired girl had toned down her lying a little, and her words carried at least a hint of gratitude. Throughout the entire ordeal, however, Yukino had remained unfailingly kind.
After they parted ways, Yukino spent about ten minutes in the toilet groaning in agony. Still, considering that she had spent nearly an hour talking to two people while being bombarded with countless lies, she could actually consider herself to have come through it in remarkably good shape.
And so, after bringing that agonising day to an end, the following morning arrived.
Walking along her usual route to school, Yukino enjoyed the cool early-summer breeze while some random instrumental band played through her earphones. Amid the music, she caught the faint sound of footsteps.
Out for a morning run, perhaps?
She moved to one side, keeping within the guardrail and leaving room for the other person to pass. Then a hand landed on her shoulder with a light pat.
“Eek?!”
“Whoa! S-sorry! I didn’t think you’d be that startled…”
Yukino let out an involuntarily shrill shriek, her shoulders jerking as she spun around. Standing right behind her was Chiharu Miyazono.
Chiharu, in turn, stared at Yukino with wide eyes, startled by just how startled she had been.
It was their first time meeting on the way to school in the morning. Yukino was momentarily captivated by Chiharu’s lustrous black hair and the blouse that seemed to glow translucently in the early-summer sunlight. She swallowed, then finally managed to release the breath that had caught in her throat.
“Oh, it’s you, Miyazono-san. Th-that frightened me… I thought you were some sort of pervert.”
“What colour are your knickers today?”
“You don’t have to become one, you know. Good morning.”
Yukino greeted her with a wry smile and half-lidded eyes. Chiharu, acting on her sense of civic responsibility, glanced behind them to make sure they weren’t obstructing anyone. Once satisfied, she moved alongside Yukino on the narrow pavement and peered into her face.
“Morning. Sorry for startling you. I wanted to thank you for yesterday. How are you feeling?”
“I’m generally fine when I’m not throwing up. What about you, Miyazono-san? Were your plans all right?”
“Thanks to you, yes. It was a family meeting about my older brother’s wedding, so I really wanted to be on time.”
So she has siblings. And one of them is old enough to be getting married.
“That’s… th-that really was important. I’m glad you made it in time.”
“Just barely. If I’d missed one more train, I would’ve been late. I have you to thank for that, Yukino. Thank you.”
“You’re too kind. I’m glad I could repay you, even a little.”
The praise was more than she deserved, but Yukino accepted it with an honest smile.
Chiharu gazed at that smile, smiling herself. She was looking at Yukino so intently that Yukino felt her cheeks grow faintly pink and tilted her head, wondering what Chiharu wanted.
Chiharu continued to study her, then gave a thoughtful grunt and nodded once.
“Right, so… I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while, Yukino. Don’t you always look rather pale?”
“Huh?! I… d-do I? Maybe it’s just because I don’t get much sun, so my skin looks fair?”
Taken completely by surprise, Yukino anxiously examined her own arm.
It was little more than skin stretched over bone, without any muscle or fat to speak of. Far from the healthy golden-brown of a sun-kissed complexion, its colour was closer to uncooked bread dough. Flour-white.
“No… I suppose not. Looking at it properly, I really am a little pale. Or perhaps bluish.”
“Right? And I’ve noticed what you eat for lunch from time to time. Isn’t it always a savoury bread roll?”
“Yes. There’s a convenience store on my way to school, so I usually buy lunch there while I’m passing.”
She had no idea Chiharu had been paying attention to her lunches. Yukino answered with a slightly embarrassed smile.
Yukino, meanwhile, had no idea what Chiharu ate for lunch herself, and felt a little guilty about that. Her guilt was entirely misplaced, however. Hearing Yukino’s answer, Chiharu gave her an uncertain look and asked another question.
“I just want to check something. Do you eat breakfast?”
“No, I… for various reasons, I don’t.”
From the morning until the fourth period, her classmates were especially talkative, which made the nausea particularly difficult to deal with. That was one reason. Another was that there was no food waiting for her at home, and since she had to stretch her part-time wages to cover her expenses, skipping one meal to save money seemed the sensible choice.
Chiharu’s brows drew together sharply at this answer. Then came her final question.
“Do you at least eat a proper dinner?”
“Oh, yes! I’m worried about getting enough nutrients, after all, so I buy some CalorieMate on my way home…”
Before Yukino could finish, Chiharu’s trembling hands seized her shoulders.
“That’s about three times worse than I imagined… Are you trying to kill yourself?”
“H-how rude! I’m eating because I don’t want to die!”
“What’s rude is your attitude towards staying alive. No, seriously, this is a genuine warning. If you keep eating like that, you really will die. Which do you trust more, CalorieMate or your classmates?”
“Please stop looking so pleased with yourself for coming up with that pun. I-I’ll trust you, all right?”
After reflexively retorting to Chiharu’s joke, Yukino cast a troubled glance into empty space.
She knew perfectly well that her diet was far from healthy. But her mother spent all her time amusing herself and never cooked, nor did she provide Yukino with money for food. Yukino suspected that reporting the situation to the appropriate authorities as abuse might improve things somewhat, but the thought of going through all that trouble put her off.
Better, she had decided, to work part-time and cut costs wherever she could.
Still, now that Chiharu had pointed it out, Yukino’s BMI had reached a frighteningly low level, and she had even been warned about her health during a medical check-up in middle school. She had to admit that her skin was unnaturally pale, too. Taking everything into account, Chiharu was overwhelmingly in the right.
“I… I’ll reconsider my habits.”
This was one area where she was clearly in the wrong.
Yukino brought her fingertips together in front of her chest, admitted it honestly, and made a subdued promise, the corners of her mouth turning down.
Chiharu nodded with satisfaction, then raised the lunchbox she had been carrying in her hand.
“Good. And here’s the first step. Consider it part of my repayment, too. I made you a packed lunch, so eat it.”
Yukino stared at her, speechless. She blinked several times.
No matter how many times she opened and closed her eyes, the lunchbox remained unchanged. Now that she thought about it, it looked rather thick.
“Y-you made one for me?”
“Obviously. You always eat alone at lunchtime, don’t you? Let’s eat together today.”
Together again, just the two of us.
Having their promise fulfilled in this way made Yukino happier than she could say. Her cheeks softened into a smile before she could stop them. But a small sense of guilt also began to stir in her chest.
“I’m… really happy, but… is it all right for you to go to this much trouble?”
She had received so much from Chiharu already. Just when she had finally managed to repay a little of it, Chiharu had responded by worrying about her diet and bringing her lunch. Yukino was beginning to feel uneasy about just how much she was being given.
Chiharu, however, paid no heed to her concern. She shrugged and flashed her a playful smile.
“If you don’t eat it, my stomach’s going to be bursting at the seams by fifth period.”
Then she glanced at Yukino’s absurdly slender waist.
“It wouldn’t be fair if I were the one getting fat. You should put on some weight instead.”
“I… I’ve never had anyone encourage me to eat like that before.”
Yukino gave an awkward little laugh. As if giving her a gentle push in the back, Chiharu declared proudly,
“Of course, I guarantee it’ll taste good.”
“Oh, you do, do you?”
“I guarantee it very strongly. I worked hard on it.”
Having gone that far, refusing would only be rude and troublesome. Yukino gratefully brought her hands together.
“…Th-then, I’ll gladly accept. I’m really happy.”
When fourth period ended, Chiharu whisked Yukino away, paying no attention to the curious looks from Yukino’s classmates.
Their destination was a bench in an open space at the eastern end of the first-floor corridor. Despite being convenient and clean, it was rarely used. And since there were no classrooms for students on the first floor, it was even quieter than most places. There were no other people there today, either, so the two of them spread out their lunch on the spacious bench and enjoyed having it all to themselves.
“Wow! Did you make all of this yourself, Miyazono-san?!”
Yukino’s voice rang out as she gazed with sparkling eyes at the lunchbox opened between them. They sat side by side.
The lunchbox itself was an ordinary two-tiered container, the sort you could buy anywhere, but the contents were rather elaborate. The first tier held white rice sprinkled with sesame salt, topped with sheets of seaweed and kelp. The second was filled with colourful side dishes: fried chicken, a small piece of white-fish fry, green beans dressed with sesame, rolled omelette, and even frozen mango.
The delicious-looking food was bathed in the gentle afternoon daylight. Yukino’s mouth fell slightly open, and she could practically feel saliva gathering at its edge. Blushing, she closed her mouth and swallowed.
Seeing Yukino’s eyes shine at the sight of the food, Chiharu nodded happily.
“Of course. I always make my own lunches. It wasn’t much trouble.”
Yukino detected no lie in her words, so apparently it really hadn’t been much trouble for Chiharu. Even so, that was only Chiharu’s own assessment. From an outside perspective, the lunch looked wonderfully elaborate, a genuine luxury.
Yukino couldn’t tear her eyes away. She was really going to be allowed to eat such a lovely lunch?
Her five fingers pressed together and shifted restlessly with anticipation. “And while we’re at it,” Chiharu said, “here you go. Drinks. Which one do you want?”
She held out two plastic bottles, one of green tea and the other of black tea.
“I-I can’t accept this much! At least let me pay you…”
“It’s to thank you for yesterday, so just accept it. Which one?”
Chiharu thrust both bottles towards Yukino, leaving no room for argument, despite Yukino’s protests and waving hands.
Yukino continued to wrestle with her conscience, but Chiharu’s smile was so gentle that she finally decided to take her at her word.
“Th-then… the green tea, please…”
She reached out hesitantly.
“Oh, [lucky me]. Then I’ll have the black tea…”
As she spoke, Chiharu began to pull the black tea back towards herself.
Yukino tasted the unpleasant murk lurking beneath those words. She reached for the black tea Chiharu was trying to reclaim and took hold of it.
“Ah, sorry. Actually, I’ll have the black tea instead.”
When treating someone to a drink, offering two different varieties was a tried-and-true approach. So this sort of thing can actually come in handy, Yukino thought, grimacing at the thin, faintly flavoured lie, which carried little emotional weight.
As far as Yukino was concerned, Chiharu had really wanted the green tea.
From Chiharu’s perspective, though, things had worked out in her favour, but the woman sitting in front of her looked like a villain who had heard the words lucky me and immediately swooped in to steal someone else’s favourite drink. Yukino never considered that possibility. She simply continued admiring the lunchbox with carefree delight, while Chiharu watched her with a puzzled expression, entertaining a different possibility altogether. In the end, seeing how happy Yukino looked, Chiharu smiled and conceded, “Well, whatever.”
Once they had everything ready, they brought their hands together.
“Itadakimasu.”
Chiharu began eating with her own chopsticks, while Yukino used the disposable pair she had been given.
Chiharu promptly followed the vegetables first rule, popping some sesame-dressed green beans into her mouth. Yukino, meanwhile, stuffed an entire piece of fried chicken into her small mouth in one go.
“So? Is it good? …Ah, no need to ask, is there?”
Chiharu swallowed first and began to ask for her verdict, but Yukino’s expression was already more eloquent than words.
With every bite of fried chicken, Yukino’s face relaxed further into an unrestrained smile. Chiharu watched her with amused delight, satisfied with the answer.
It was only natural. For someone who usually ate nothing but cost-conscious savoury bread rolls, a piece of fried chicken made from well-marinated thigh meat, wrapped in a coating that was neither too thick nor too hard, was a luxury so exquisite that even calling it delicious seemed an understatement.
Yukino could practically feel such a tremendous flood of endorphins that she wondered whether her brain might break apart. Her cheeks bulged like a squirrel’s as she chewed with an enormous smile.
“Mmf-fmmph!”
She answered enthusiastically through her closed mouth.
“Just eat,” Chiharu replied with an amused smile.
A dozen or so seconds later, after savouring every bite and swallowing properly, Yukino finally gave her answer in a lively voice.
“It’s delicious! Really!”
Chiharu ate her lunch delicately, gazing at the blissful Yukino with a pleased smile.
“So you make that sort of face, too.”
Hearing Chiharu say it as though she had discovered something unexpected, Yukino abruptly came back to her senses and felt embarrassed.
Had she got a little too carried away? Her face turned bright red, and she covered her mouth.
“…I may have got a bit too excited. I’m sorry.”
She considered eating a little more demurely, but Chiharu shook her head.
“I think it’s fine. You look much lovelier like that…”
As they were talking, a noisy pair passed through the corridor.
A male teacher and a female student. The teacher was a young man in a suit, with unshaven stubble, who taught civics. If Yukino remembered correctly, his name was Shinohara. The girl with him looked like a first-year student, her brown hair and uniform styled in a rather flashy fashion.
“Sensei, you always eat convenience-store lunches! Want me to make one for you?”
“[Please spare me.] It’d be a serious problem if a teacher let one of his students do something like that.”
“Ehhh, you say that, but you always look happy when I press my boobs against you!”
“Hey, don’t go saying things like that! [Of course that’s not true. What if people get the wrong idea?]”
As they spoke, the girl clung to the teacher’s arm, and the two continued on down the corridor.
Chiharu watched them go, dumbfounded.
“That looks a little suspicious…” She turned to Yukino. “…Whoa, that’s quite a face. Was that conversation bad for you, too?”
The taste of a teacher’s desperate lie, concealing the lust he felt towards one of his students.
It was the worst kind of sourness.
A fierce taste of stomach acid pierced from the back of Yukino’s throat up into her nasal passages. It felt as though the exquisite food she was eating had all suddenly turned into vomit. Nausea rose in her, and the obsessive conviction that she must not throw up only made it worse. Yukino turned pale, her face twisted with agony as she clapped a hand over her mouth.
“Yes… Ugh… cough… urgh…”
As Yukino began to retch, Chiharu immediately rose from the bench, opened the convenience-store bag containing Yukino’s usual savoury bread rolls, and held it open in front of her.
“Th-thank… you…”
Yukino managed to accept it. Then, the next instant, Chiharu reached out and gently stroked her back with a soft, tender hand.
Yukino’s eyes widened in surprise even through the nausea.
Chiharu was worried about her, of course. Yet she watched Yukino’s face with a gentle expression that was not quite a smile, but was soothing all the same, as though she were trying to conceal the depth of her concern.
Yukino was ashamed of the thought of Chiharu seeing her throw up. And yet, if she had to be sick in front of someone, she couldn’t imagine it being anyone other than Chiharu. She trusted her that much.
Gradually, the nausea subsided, and Yukino let out a breath of relief, still holding the bag against her chest.
“…Phew. I’m all right. I’m sorry for causing you trouble.”
She apologised, the taste of stomach acid still lingering on her tongue. Chiharu gave a quiet “Mm” and stroked her back once more.
Through her thin blouse, Yukino could feel the softness and warmth of Chiharu’s palm against her back. She wanted to remain immersed in that comforting sensation forever. As Chiharu’s hand eventually moved away, Yukino watched it go with reluctance.
“When you suddenly look like you’re about to throw up, it freaks me out. So next time you’re going to be sick, tell me your name, date of birth and special skills first.”
“This isn’t an audition for a talent agency!”
Chiharu’s joke swept away the damp, heavy atmosphere, tinged with sweetness and sourness.
Yukino retorted with half-lidded eyes. Chiharu smiled with satisfaction.
“You seem to be feeling better.”
Then, shifting from dealing with the immediate problem to worrying about its cause, she sat back down and folded her arms.
“Joking aside, this really is a difficult problem. Even a short conversation like that is enough to set it off?”
“Yes… It depends a little on the situation.”
Yukino pressed her index finger against her throat as she answered, deliberately keeping the central issue vague.
Chiharu didn’t push any further. Instead, she tried another approach, hoping to learn what she could without forcing Yukino to reveal more than she wanted.
“Do your parents know? It seems like you should seriously consider seeing a doctor.”
“Right… They know, but I don’t think they’d do anything as troublesome as that. I have some rather unusual circumstances, too, so I’d prefer not to make a big deal of it.”
If one set aside the fact that neglecting to raise a child was a serious form of abuse, Yukino’s mother wasn’t exactly a villain in the usual sense. She was simply indifferent to Yukino. She was willing to make the occasional comment as someone living under the same roof, and to grudgingly fulfil the duties expected of her as a mother. But she had no interest in anything that required her to stop and consider whether it was legally obligatory.
“I don’t want to stick my nose too far into your family affairs, so I can’t really pry.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Well, anyway, just so you know, I’m ready to listen about your condition and all that. If things get hard, lean on me.”
Chiharu peered into Yukino’s face with a slightly lonely smile. There wasn’t a trace of a lie in her words of concern.
For an instant, Yukino’s vision blurred.
Someone understood her suffering. Someone had acknowledged that she was allowed to suffer, that what she was going through was genuinely difficult. Her eyes grew damp.
But Yukino squeezed them shut, concealing her feelings. Then she let her cheeks soften into a smile and replied, taking care to keep her voice from trembling.
“…Yes.”
With her eyes closed, she couldn’t see Chiharu’s face. But she heard a quiet little laugh.
Yukino didn’t talk about her home life because she expected that doing so would earn her nothing but sympathy. Though that wasn’t entirely fair. If Chiharu knew the truth, she would probably suggest an effective way to solve the problem. But if the authorities intervened with her mother, for example, Yukino would have to deal with the resulting complications. That was the main reason she kept quiet.
Her reluctance to talk about her condition was simpler. She was afraid people would find her disgusting and fear her, and she worried that someone might spread the story. Of course, she knew Chiharu wasn’t the sort of person who would do that, but that knowledge couldn’t entirely override her instinctive unease.
Still, Chiharu had told her she would wait until Yukino was ready.
Yukino blinked exaggeratedly, trying to dry her damp eyes. When she opened them again, they felt a little less wet. She lowered her gaze and resumed eating.
“Miyazono-san… you’re a kind person.”
Chiharu reached for her lunch again, following Yukino’s lead, and accepted the compliment with characteristic nonchalance.
“That’s right. I try to live in a way that makes people say that about me as often as possible.”
“You make it sound as though you’re not really kind.”
“Well, I can’t deny that.”
Yukino fell silent in surprise. Chiharu gave an ambiguous smile, chewed her rolled omelette and gazed into empty space.
After swallowing the bite, her lovely throat moving smoothly, she traced some invisible letters in the air with her chopsticks.
“You see, I want to die happy. So I thought about what I’d need in order to die happy. A lot of things came to mind, but in the end, I decided the most important thing was to live in a way that meant I wouldn’t be ashamed of myself. So I live as ‘a kind person’, so that tomorrow’s version of me can look back at who I am today and hold her head high.”
Having calmly explained her philosophy, Chiharu took a mouthful of rice and chewed.
Yukino, who had also been eating rolled omelette, silently nodded as she chewed.
Then, as though they had planned it together, the two looked at each other and swallowed at the same time.
“Mm… Basically, it’s self-satisfaction. So I don’t think that necessarily makes me a kind person.”
From Yukino’s perspective, Chiharu was an exceptionally kind person.
It wasn’t a kindness born of indulgence, but one grounded in the justice she believed in. If she thought someone was wrong, she would say so. If they tried to change, she would offer them a hand. At the same time, she wasn’t so meddlesome that she went out of her way to interfere in everything. Yukino saw her as a practical, down-to-earth person whose kindness was firmly rooted in reality.
And yet, according to Chiharu, the source of that kindness was simply her own pursuit of happiness.
Yukino understood what she meant, but she couldn’t quite agree. With a gentle smile, she answered,
“Even so, if you keep living by that conviction, I think it still deserves to be called kindness.”
Chiharu pursed her lips and looked into empty space with a dubious expression, putting on a playful face.
“Do you think so?”
“Yes. Even hypocrisy is still good, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone.”
“That’s true, too.”
Yukino laughed freely, and Chiharu smiled a little before readily conceding the point.
That willingness to be flexible is one of her good qualities, too, Yukino thought admiringly.
“But if that’s how you see it, I think you’re kind and sincere, too, Yukino.”
Chiharu returned the compliment. Her smile held a faintly mischievous edge.
Her expression seemed to say, There. Now you don’t know what to do with a compliment, do you?
Yukino smiled awkwardly, as though searching for an answer.
Then she exhaled and grew a little more serious. Staring down at the lunchbox, she murmured,
“I… just want to cherish the happiness I already have.”
She wanted to respond sincerely to the happiness of having someone treat her kindly, and to preserve the relationship that came with it.
As for doing her work as diligently as possible, that was a way of ensuring that other people continued to think well of her. Put another way, it was an attempt to hold on to the happiness of being valued, something she had already been given.
“…I don’t think I’m the sort of person who can be happy.”
Yukino could tell when other people were lying. If they knew about her ability, they might find her creepy and refuse to speak to her. If they didn’t, the endless stream of unpleasant lies would slowly wear her down.
She couldn’t imagine that someone like her could live an ordinary, happy life.
That was why she wanted to cherish, without wasting a single bit of it, the symbol of happiness that had literally descended upon her through sheer good fortune. She wanted to treat it carefully, tenderly, lovingly. All she was doing was trying to be kind and sincere so that she could hold on to it.
In the end, Yukino, too, was acting in her own self-interest.
“Yukino…”
Hearing those words, Chiharu murmured her name, as though something about them had touched her.
Just then, the pair who had passed the open space earlier returned in the opposite direction: Shinohara, the civics teacher, and the female student clinging tightly to his arm.
The instant they looked as though they were about to speak, Chiharu reached out with both hands towards Yukino.
Yukino’s eyes widened and her shoulders trembled, but before she could react, Chiharu had covered both her ears.
Chiharu’s gaze was serious as she watched the pair pass by.
Her eyes were beautiful. The porcelain-like whites were coloured with a vivid, lustrous black, like precious jewels. It wasn’t a plain, lifeless black. Depending on the angle from which one looked, it seemed to change, like an abyss or the night sky. Bathed in the afternoon light filtering into the open space, her eyes seemed to hold the light of the moon itself. Each long eyelash was as delicate as a strand of silk, carefully spun, veiling and revealing those lovely eyes as though she were reluctant to show them too freely.
For an instant, their eyes met.
Through the tiny gaps between Chiharu’s hands, the wind slipped in and out around Yukino’s ears. Beneath it, she could just barely hear the faint sound of conversation. The words themselves remained indistinct, and all she could detect on her tongue was the faintest hint of salt.
But Yukino was too red-faced, her heart pounding too wildly, to notice even that.
Chiharu was only covering her ears, yet it felt as though someone had taken control of one of her five senses. And somehow, she didn’t find that distressing at all. Instead, she felt safe.
She had entrusted her body to someone else, and it felt good.
Eventually, Shinohara and the girl disappeared down the corridor. Once they were far enough away that their voices were unlikely to reach them, Chiharu abruptly lifted her hands from Yukino’s ears.
The cool air touched Yukino’s hot, crimson ears all at once.
“That’s a primitive method, but surprisingly effective…” Chiharu began, turning her gaze back to Yukino.
Then she noticed Yukino’s bright-red face and ears, and followed her averted gaze with an amused smile.
“…I covered your ears, not your mouth, you know?”
“I’m not red because I’m suffocating. Honestly… You’re a wicked person.”
“Hehe, I’m joking. Sorry for covering them so suddenly. You didn’t mind, did you?”
“Well, I didn’t mind… and it did help, but…”
Yukino pouted, feeling somehow as though she had lost, and pressed her fingertips together in front of her chest.
As she pretended to sulk, the heat in her face gradually subsided. Then she murmured,
“Thank you.”
“Seems it worked pretty well.”
Looking at Chiharu’s confident smile, Yukino let the words slip out before she could stop them.
“…I’d given up.”
“‘Given up’?”
“Not listening to sounds is a primitive method, but it works. Still, I can’t go through life constantly covering my ears or wearing earplugs. I don’t want to make a big public issue out of my condition, either. If I want to live a normal life under those circumstances, I thought I should focus on enduring what I hear and learning to live with it, rather than trying not to hear it at all.”
Somewhere along the way, she had stopped considering covering her ears as an option except while travelling or when she was completely alone. If she kept doing it while eating lunch in the classroom, for example, people would notice. And situations in which she could hear other people talking were usually situations in which other people could see her, too. So she had focused on listening and enduring, simply to avoid drawing attention to herself.
But Yukino gave a self-deprecating smile, closed her eyes and muttered, almost exasperated with herself,
“Still, I remembered just how effective it is. I feel a little better now.”
“Then I’m glad,” Chiharu said lightly, brushing the matter aside. Then she narrowed her eyes and peered into Yukino’s.
“Well, doing that suddenly in front of other people would make you a bit of a nuisance. But when it’s just the two of us, I don’t see why not.”
Just the two of us.
The words seemed to hint that there would be another time.
Yukino couldn’t hide the sudden rise in her body temperature. Her face grew faintly red, and she managed to murmur a single word, as though in a feverish haze.
“…Yes.”
She barely managed to get it out before reaching for her lunch with her chopsticks, trying to distract herself.
“Anyway, that was the civics teacher, wasn’t it? Shinohara-sensei?”
Chiharu had resumed eating, too. She glanced towards the corridor as she asked. Yukino nodded, recalling the man.
“Yes. He’s about the only one who wears a suit. But…”
“…I’m not sure whether we should get involved in that. It felt like a situation where you’d have to think twice before saying anything.”
Chiharu agreed with Yukino’s conspicuously vague remark, a bead of cold sweat trickling down her face as she murmured in dismay.
The open space at the far end of the first-floor corridor was rarely visited. The corridor stretched from west to east, and the two of them were sitting at its eastern end. There shouldn’t have been any particularly notable classrooms beyond that point. So what had the pair been doing there? And why had the girl, with her uniform worn so provocatively, wrapped herself around the teacher’s arm, while he made no attempt to disengage himself?
Perhaps they hadn’t paid much attention to Yukino and Chiharu because there was nothing untoward going on. Or perhaps…
From Yukino’s perspective, the teacher’s lies made the whole thing look even more suspicious.
“Well, it’s probably nothing that serious,” Yukino concluded with an uncertain smile.
“True,” Chiharu replied, taking a bite of frozen mango.
After chewing it lightly and swallowing, she twirled her chopsticks idly while gazing into empty space.
“He seems like a serious teacher, anyway. Apparently, he comes in really early every morning to patrol the school.”
“Wow… Th-that’s impressive.”
With public discussion about teachers’ working conditions already so heated, Yukino wondered how many teachers would go that far. It was probably best not to jump to any strange conclusions.
Deciding to put the scene they had just witnessed out of her mind, Yukino turned her gaze back to Chiharu’s homemade lunch.