Amamiya Tōru weeping uncontrollably before my eyes.
I never imagined she’d cry so openly, without a care for those around her.
What about me, what exactly touched her to make her cry?
What could be the cause?

The exchange earlier.
She asked, “Don’t I matter to you?”
Before that, she’d asked if I had important business, and I’d nodded.
　Did she compare my upcoming errand with Amamiya Tōru herself? What possible meaning could that comparison hold?
An errand that’s merely a means to earn money versus her —the very reason I want to earn money. There’s no comparison; of course, Amamiya Tōru is infinitely more important.

Would telling her exactly that be the right answer?

If I told her everything I’m thinking now, would she stop crying?

“…Why are you silent, Mashiro? Don’t you care about me?”

Her tears would surely flow endlessly.
She desperately wipes them away, wipes them away, rubbing her eyes repeatedly until the corners turn red.

Amamiya Tōru is crying.
My transparent ideal, like a child who’s fallen in the park.
Crying because she wants someone to help her.

　………Ah, I am heartless.

Yet I cannot help but find her utterly endearing.
Poor, adorable Amamiya Tōru.

I find myself thinking I like her.

After all, even though Amamiya Tōru was crying now, she seemed enveloped in a warm, gentle emotion.
In short, it felt like “she likes me”.
　That’s what it felt like. Even if it was just friendship.

Honestly, why is this happening now?

I took her hand, which was rubbing her eyes, and gently held it in both of mine.

“You’re more important, Amamiya-san.”
“………Liar. Then why did you turn me down?”
“It’s just that time with you is important, so I had to prioritise my errand.”
“What sort of business was that?”
“Just a job interview.”
“A job?”

Amamiya Tōru tilted her head.
I’d said it. Now she’d realise my financial situation too.
Even so, if it meant making her cry because of me, I decided I should be honest with her.

“It was an interview for a part-time job to earn money to give to you.”
“………Are you running out of money?”
“Well, money isn’t exactly something that springs forth endlessly. It diminishes when you spend it on things.”
“………I see. But our school forbids part-time work, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, I’m well aware of that.”

I know. I’ve read the school rules properly. So I fully understand that our school prohibits students from working part-time.
　No matter how much money Amamiya Tōru wanted, the reason he’d been seducing people like this to get them to give her money instead of working part-time was the risk if it got discovered.
If it involved giving something in return and was a consensual exchange of money, then it was a private matter the school couldn’t interfere with.

Knowing all this, I had planned to go for a part-time job interview today.

“But, I think I’ll pass after all.”
“Eh?”
“Even if I got the job, it would mean less time with you. If that made you sad, it wouldn’t be worth it at all.”
“………Are you sure? About, well, the money? I know it’s awkward for me to say this, but are you really alright?”

It was absolutely true. The thought that you were worrying about my money made me smile involuntarily.

“It’s not like a part-time job is the only way to earn money. I’ll earn steadily through things like helping with housework.”
“… …”

Amamiya Tōru seemed to want to say something.
But sensing she couldn’t say anything more to me about money, she fell silent.

“So, after school today… um, what are we doing?”

At her question, the smile I’d been holding back finally broke through.
　I cherished her for valuing our time together, and I couldn’t help but smile at her.

Holding her hand in mine.
I gently wiped away the tears still lingering on her cheek with my finger.
And then, for what felt like the umpteenth time.
I stroked her head.

Come to think of it, ever since I started this relationship with Amamiya Tōru, I feel like I’ve started smiling a lot more – enough that I’ve noticed it myself.
Am I changing? Not just her, but me too.
I do hope that in the future, I’ll get to see that wonderful colour of a smile on Amamiya Tōru’s face too.

“Amamiya-san is the sort of girl who gets sad and cries the moment I refuse her. Shall we make today another time bought with money?”

Amamiya Tōru’s eyebrows instantly knit together.
Even though it’s too late now, she turns away to show her displeasure, puffing out one cheek.

“N-no. I won’t be sad or cry just because Mashiro turned me down.”
“Right, right. Of course. Amamiya-san doesn’t cry, does she?”
“Muuu…”

No matter how much she puffs out her cheeks.
No matter how much she averts her eyes from me.

Even so, she accepts only this hand stroking her head.

That ambiguous, clumsy boundary she draws.
　is simply endearing.

“But just one thing —may I state my request first today?”

I ask, continuing to stroke her head gently.

“What?”

She replies curtly.
Her transparency is returning.
Part of me feels relieved by that.

“Today, instead of the hotel, shall we do that sort of thing in your room, Amamiya-san?”

　Amamiya Tōru, who had been averting her gaze, looked straight at me.
I met her eyes in return.

Why?

The words slipped from her lips.
I understood they were a muttered aside, not truly directed at me.
So I simply watched her, bewildered, with a smile.

Amamiya Tōru said nothing, merely nodded quietly.