The day after the race was the last Sunday of March. I was alone, lazily watching clouds pass at Tsuwabuki’s south gate. Spring was on the wind—not a hint of winter remained. Like it or not, time marched on.
Naturally, I wouldn’t have brought my aching body all this way if not for a good reason. Tamaki-senpai and Tsukinoki-senpai were stopping by one last time before they finally left Toyohashi.
“Look at Mr. Early Bird.” Yanami came up and joined me, little strips of dried kelp, kombu, gripped in her hand. No doubt the fad kind for diets. Here we went again.
“Er, Yanami-san, isn’t that the kombu they use for making dashi? You’ll crack a tooth on those.”
“It’s fried chicken.”
I did a double take. It was not. It was kombu. “Is the fried chicken in the room with us right now?”
“I’m not crazy, dude. People can burn their tongues on cold spoons. It’s all about self-suggestion. If you believe hard enough, anything can be fried chicken. Or maybe beef jerky.”
By that logic, would her imaginary carbs not also come with imaginary calories?
She tore a piece off, glaring at me. “So. Yesterday at the nurse’s office. What’d you two talk about?”
“I told you over the phone. She’s switching to middle-distance but aiming high.”
“So stop telling me again and gimme what I’m asking for.” Ah, silly me. How could I have misinterpreted? She ripped off another piece with her front teeth. “She asked us to give you guys some privacy. Ain’t no way that’s all you two talked about.”
“I mean, it was. We just chatted about stuff. Nothing important.”
“Then spill it. I said no head starts, Nukumizu-kun, and I meant it.”
Yanami was more annoying than usual today, and that was saying something. I brushed her off and thought back to that moment we’d shared. Yakishio had been different. But “different” was relative. Everything was a part of her. What I witnessed was a glimpse. A sliver of the greater whole that was her identity. What might I have seen, I wondered, had I dared to take a closer look?
I had only just scratched the surface of the girl called Yakishio Lemon.
“You’re hiding something,” Yanami growled, eyes narrowed.
“I’m telling you, it’s nothing. Yakishio said she’d make it today, yeah? Wonder where she is.”
“Guilty! He’s guilty! Only guilty people change the subject!”
I ignored her. Meanwhile, a tiny thing in a Tsuwabuki uniform scuttled over from campus. “Y-you guys are so loud.”
“Komari-chan!” Yanami whined. “Something totally happened yesterday! Nukumizu-kun’s totally guilty and he won’t admit it!”
Komari huffed. “Th-the only thing he’s guilty of is b-being spineless.”
“Okay, fair, actually.” That calmed her down. Which left a bad taste in my mouth.
“You seen Yakishio?” I asked Komari, partly to clear the air.
She nodded. “Sh-she’s finishing the journal. She’ll be here later.”
“Oh, Lemon-chan wrote something!” Yanami put her hands together excitedly.
She’d been the last one. Hers was the only draft we were waiting on to finally finish up the club journal we planned to give our senpai as one final parting gift. Honestly, I’d half given up on the idea. This was good news.
“Look!” Yanami started waving. “They’re here!”
A minivan pulled up and stopped next to us.
“Where’s the red carpet?” Tsukinoki-senpai jabbed as she hopped out of the driver seat. She wore a pair of straight fit jeans and a neutral-toned, collared shirt. A towel hung around her neck.
“Can you just be normal and thank them, Koto? We appreciate everyone coming out, guys.” Tamaki-senpai stepped down from the passenger seat, shaking his head like he was her handler or something. Granted, he probably was.
We shook hands while the girls hugged.
“Heard you won the race,” he said.
“With a handicap, to be fair.”
He glanced at the girls then leaned in and lowered his voice. “I won’t pry about what happened next or anything, but…”
“Nothing happened.”
“Hey, what’s important is that everyone’s happy. Ain’t none of my business.”
“Nothing happened.”
Happy. What had Yakishio gained from all this that she didn’t have before? Was she happy? I didn’t know. But so long as we lived, we would do so at the expense of others. There would always be winners and losers. Inevitably, we would hurt each other. Steal from each other. Sometimes the victims would be people we cared about. But we had to carry on. Yakishio had decided to carry on.
“Take good care of them, man.” He hit me on the back. It didn’t hurt. I wished Yakishio were here to take notes.
“And you make sure your girlfriend stays out of trouble.”
“That, I can’t promise.”
We laughed at our mutual suffering. This wasn’t our final meeting. Far from it. It was actually our first. Not as schoolmates, just as guys. A couple of humans, sharing a chuckle. It was scary, to be honest, renovating a relationship. But also exciting in a way.
“Yakishio-san still missing?” he asked.
“She’s, uh, finishing something up.” I looked back at campus just in time to see birds scatter. Another flock, closer to us, did the same.
Yakishio came bolting around a corner, a stapled bundle of papers in her grasp. “Sorry! I’m here! I’m here! This is for you guys! It’s special! Just for you!” Her sweat glistened in the sun, but it paled in comparison to the smile on her face.
“You made a journal? For us?” Tsukinoki-senpai timidly took a copy.
“You too, Tamaki-senpai!”
“Thanks,” he said. “Wow. I don’t know what to say.”
Tsukinoki-senpai removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “God, you guys, I told myself I wouldn’t cry.” But the tears quickly dried up as she read the table of contents. “Komari-chan. Did you flip my ship again?”
Komari giggled sinisterly. “M-maybe.”
Her partner in brain poison sneered. “I look forward to discussing this with you later. At length.”
“S-same.” Komari matched her expression, venom for venom.