Digression ⑥ Ryōka, Eighteen Years Old ―December 2033―

I certainly did like him. I dreamed of a future with Sōma often enough to indulge in frequent sweet fantasies.

　Back when I could see no one but Sōma, I dismissed the adults around me, their smug advice like “You’re so young” or “It’s hard to keep a school romance going”, as the sour grapes of people who’d failed at love themselves when they were young.

Even now, I don’t particularly care for those adults. I’ve never once thought they were right.

　There must be countless exceptions, and above all, isn’t it still too early to make such sweeping judgements? Seeing Meisa makes me think that every time.

I became friends with Meisa in the second year of junior high school, when we ended up in the same class.

From the moment she enrolled, Meisa was famous throughout the school as “that incredibly cute girl”. She seemed to avoid standing out, yet despite her intentions, she was incredibly popular.

　The cool senior from the football club who had everyone squealing, the class clown who was the most articulate and entertaining, even the student council president from the top academic high school in the prefecture – they’d all confessed to Meisa.

With her many male friends and wide circle, Suzuka was often asked:

“Do you know if Uehara has a boyfriend now?”

“I don’t think so?”

It wasn’t until later that Ryōka realised how much trouble Meisa was getting into because she answered so stupidly honestly.

Even within Ryōka’s circle, it wasn’t uncommon for Meisa to be shunned by girls jealous over romantic entanglements. So Meisa tried to change. She made an effort not to dress in ways that appealed to boys, stopped being unnecessarily kind to them, and prioritised cherishing her female friends above all else.

　As a result, it seemed Meisa no longer faced harassment from girls, but she’d resolved to only speak her true feelings to those she truly opened up to.

Only in front of Ryōka did Meisa let her guard down. Nothing made Ryōka happier or prouder.

That’s why Ryōka vowed within herself never to betray Meisa, to treasure her above all else.

　The stories about love that her dear friend Meisa shared were always accompanied by questions and sighs.

—Even though he was so kind to me, why couldn’t I fall for him?

—He told me he liked me many times, and he treated me with care… but still, I just couldn’t understand what it meant to like someone.

　Meisa had always said she didn’t understand the feeling of liking someone.

Therefore, when Meisa, who had always kept romance at arm’s length, confided her feelings for Kakei-san to her, and when she saw the look Meisa gave her… Ryōka was utterly astonished.

Because it was the first time she’d seen Meisa’s expression so soft and joyful, the unmistakable look of a girl in love.

　The fact she was older? The same sex? A teacher? The positions and social expectations others arbitrarily deemed obstacles meant absolutely nothing in the face of Meisa’s first love.

She had supported Meisa with a hundred percent pure heart, wishing for her happiness and for things to work out. So when Meisa reported, “I’ve decided to cut off contact with the teacher to focus on my entrance exams,” Ryōka felt a sadness as if it were her own.

　Yet, immediately after those words, Ryouka found herself embracing Meisa, not out of consolation, but from sheer joy.

Because Meisa had said this:

“I haven’t given up yet.”

Her best friend, striving to achieve what Ryouka herself couldn’t, and that love.

It only made her want to cheer them on even more.

She couldn’t help but wish, desperately, for it to bear fruit.