Chapter 173

Himeji puffed out her cheeks. “She is not going to get away with this.” On Monday, I got to class and found an irate Himeji sitting in the seat next to mine. She crossed her arms, furrowed her brow, and glared into the void. I got the feeling she wanted me to ask, so I did. “You mean Hina?” She nodded and sighed. “What is wrong with her?” “I’m grateful you got mad on my behalf, but all that’s settled now.” I had to put a stop to this, or their friendship was going down the drain. “You think this is about you?” snapped Himeji. “Huh?” “She implied I wasn’t getting any work. Me!” That’s what you’re mad about? Now that I think of it, that’s when the slapping started. Hina didn’t really say those specific words, but I guess it was implied. Apparently, that was the comment that had set her off. “Does she know who she’s talking to?! And who does she think she is anyway?! A one-hit wonder from a no-name agency, that’s what!” Himeji fumed, her breathing ragged. “Just make up, okay? I’m sure she’ll apologize.” “No way. She slapped me. She slapped this beautiful face.” Himeji’s rock-solid confidence was as impressive as it was annoying. “You slapped her, too.” “She slapped me first.” “You’re both to blame.” There were no heroes or villains here. “What’re you talking about?” Torigoe said, approaching us. “I’m telling Himeji to make up with Hina.” “There’s nothing to make up for,” insisted Himeji. “We’ve been arguing like this since we were little.” She turned away with a hmph. “That kind of argument is not normal at our age. You were slapping each other. You only see that in dramas and pro wrestling.” Torigoe chuckled. “Hiina takes everything very seriously. I think she’s hurt.” “You’re on her side, Shizuka?” “Stop it, Himeji, please,” I said. “I am not apologizing, no matter what.” She stood up in a huff. “Grow up!” I said. “She really is acting like a child,” agreed Torigoe. “Although that side of her is cute, too.” If you didn’t know what she was like, you might see Himeji as a mysterious beauty who transferred into our school out of the blue. But that was only if you didn’t really know her… The other guys were fooled by her outward mystique, making her more and more popular. But none of them knew the truth. Once my conversation with Torigoe more or less dried up, I summed up what I’d been thinking. “We might not go back to how we were before, but I’ve decided to wait. That’s all I can do.” “Sounds like a solid decision. I’m sure Hiina put a lot of thought into it, too.” “Did she ask you about it?” “No way. I think she blew up because she kept it all to herself. She’s the type to solve everything on her own, after all.” I’d talked about my feelings with Deguchi, Himeji, and Torigoe. That had helped me gather my thoughts and come to terms with the situation. But that meant Hina didn’t have anyone to go to. “If I were in Hiina’s shoes, I don’t think I could bring myself to talk to her about it, no matter how close we were,” said Torigoe. “Nothing worse than the girlfriend asking the girl who got rejected about her boyfriend troubles.” “…Makes sense.” If only she had another friend to rely on. Hina was friendly with lots of people, but the only person she could be completely honest with was Torigoe. Her relationship with Himeji was a little different. They were childhood friends, but they were also rivals. I couldn’t imagine them going to each other for romantic advice. “Although like Himeji said, it’s your fault, too.” “Maybe part of it, but not all.” “I’m not so sure,” she said, shrugging. And just like that, Hina and I went back to the way we were before our second year. We were calling it a breather, but we really only talked when we had to do class rep work together. We didn’t chat at school, and we didn’t text or call each other, either. Rumors that we’d broken up quickly spread through the school, and more boys started trying to talk to her during breaks. I even saw guys from other classes and grades hand her notes. At some point, that had all stopped. But now, if things were really the same as before, I had to assume the notes were from boys hoping to confess their love and ask her out. I’d assumed we were simply going back to our regular, boring school lives, but so many guys were approaching her, I was constantly on edge. Nevertheless, I kept my distance and pretended not to notice. We were on a breather, so I figured it wasn’t my place to butt in. Hina and Himeji’s relationship went back to normal, though I wasn’t sure if either of them ever apologized. When I thought back, I realized the two of them had never said sorry after an argument. After a while, they’d just forget, and everything would go back to how it was. That was the way it had been ever since they were kids. White Day arrived, and I decided to give Torigoe something in return for her Christmas present. Once everyone else was gone, I took a wrapped box out of my bag. “Torigoe. This is for you.” “What?! F-for me?!” She was flabbergasted. “Huh? Wha? Wh-why?” She restlessly toyed with her hair, tapped her chest, and took a few deep breaths. “I remembered I didn’t give you anything in return for your Christmas present.” “O-oh.” Torigoe’s cheeks turned a rosy red. “A-and?” “…Huh? Well, I thought I should return the favor, I guess.” “…A-and that’s it?” “Yeah.” Torigoe deflated like a balloon and plummeted back into her seat. “Oh… Yes. Of course.” She heaved a deep sigh and reached out to me curtly. “Give it to me. What is it?” I placed it in her hand, and she unwrapped it. Inside was a foldable keyboard. “Oh!” “I wasn’t sure what you like to use for writing, but I figured you could work in the library or in a café with just this and your phone.” “Thanks. That’s surprisingly thoughtful of you.” “Why are you surprised?” I’d drawn inspiration from her own practical choice of gift. I went with something she could use frequently that wasn’t too expensive. “It’s smaller than a regular keyboard, but your hands are small, right?” I remembered Torigoe and Hina had once compared their hand sizes. Torigoe was shorter and had smaller hands; Hina had called them cute. “I thought maybe this would be easier for you to use.” “Wow, you even thought about that?” Torigoe sighed in admiration. Then she set down the keyboard and tried typing on it. “It feels pretty nice.” “Good to hear.” “Thank you,” she said. “You already said that.” “No, I mean thank you for everything.” “For everything?” Torigoe nodded and smiled. “So much happened this year, a lot of it sad and painful, but it was fun. And it was all thanks to you being my friend.” I hadn’t done anything that deserved her thanks. I really hadn’t. In fact, she should probably resent me. The fact that she didn’t see it that way just proved how good a person Torigoe was. “Without you, I would have finished high school without any friends,” she said. “So I wanted to thank you.” “Torigoe…… Do you have a terminal illness?” Her words felt somehow ominous. “Don’t be dumb.” She could tell I was joking and giggled. “I’m being serious here.” “I guess we might end up in different classes next year.” I was starting to feel embarrassed, so I purposely changed the subject. “That would be one less superficial jerk in my midst.” “You’re still saying that? And is it my imagination, or are you getting even meaner?” “Maybe I am.” Torigoe laughed out loud, like she’d just pulled off a satisfying prank. Spring was right around the corner. It wasn’t a very special time for me, but it was a big deal for Mana. Entrance exams had just wrapped up. Everyone was off the day the results were posted on our school’s bulletin board, so all three members of the Takamori household, along with Torigoe, went together to check. We were in the car on our way there. I turned to Torigoe. “So why are you here?” “ManaMana asked me to come. She was probably worried. She acts tough, but I think it’s all a front.” “Both of us got in, so I’m sure Mana will be fine.” I turned to Mana, expecting her to agree, but she was squeezing her eyes shut, her hands together in prayer. “You’re pretty adaptable, Ryou, but Mana is a bit different,” Mom said. Really? I think she’s a lot smarter and more adaptable than I am. We arrived at school and saw a few middle schoolers and their guardians already looking up at the big board near the entrance. “Ugh. Shizu, you go look,” said Mana. “It’s okay, Mana,” said Mom. “After all, your brother got in.” “Hey,” I said. “You’re also insulting Torigoe.” “Oh, don’t worry about me,” Torigoe chimed in. Mana timidly held her ticket in one hand as Torigoe dragged her over to the bulletin board. Mom and I followed behind and approached the crowd. “What’s your number, ManaMana?” asked Torigoe. Mana handed over the wrinkled piece of paper and hugged the older girl like she was a giant plushie. Because of Torigoe’s height, she looked like Mana’s little sister, but she was definitely acting the part of the big sister. “You smell so nice, Shizu,” said Mana. “Stop sniffing, you’re embarrassing me.” Mom and I checked the number in Torigoe’s hand and looked up at the board. “Hey, there you are!” I said. “He’s right, you’re up there,” Torigoe assured her. “Yes, right there! Look!” Mom was pointing. “No cap?!” Mana lifted her face from where it was buried in Torigoe’s hair. “I’m there! I’m totally there! Thank God!” “Congratulations, underclassman.” Torigoe turned around and patted her head. “Acting like my senior now, Shizu?” “I am your senior.” I opened up our neglected group chat and informed everyone that Mana had passed her exam. Deguchi, Himeji, and Hina all sent messages congratulating her right away. Mom announced that we were going out to eat to celebrate, and that Torigoe was coming with us. Back at the car, Torigoe checked the chat, then muttered, “Do you think we’ll all be able to hang out together come summer?” “If for some reason I can’t, you guys should go on without me,” I said. “I don’t want to go on without you.” I wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but I felt she was cheering me on. During spring break, I worked five days a week. The new department was called the Art Direction Team, and 80 percent of my duties were working on their video production. “What a ridiculous proposal.” Mr. Matsuda had just returned from an internal meeting, and he was huffing indignantly. “What happened?” I asked. “The former TV director I have leading the Art Direction Team said he wants you to work under him.” “Really?” I was shocked to learn that someone else in the company valued my work. “That’s an honor.” “What are you talking about? I can’t have someone else taking a liking to you.” Now you’re being ridiculous. “So I told him that you have to be with me to really shine.” “That’s not true.” I knew Mr. Matsuda appreciated me. That was obvious from my salary—he paid me as much as a full-fledged employee. “Aren’t you just trying to keep me from quitting?” I asked. “…” After a moment’s pause, Mr. Matsuda turned around and laughed this off. So I was right. Well, I’m not planning on quitting anytime soon, so I guess that’s fine. “Excuse me! I’m waiting outside.” Himeji popped her head into the office. She had come to the agency on some business right as I was about to finish my shift, and we’d decided to head home together. That was about ten minutes ago. “The devil’s come for you, Ry.” “If you’d stop chatting about nonsense with him, he’d already be out here.” “But it’s so much fun!” “Stop making puppy-dog eyes. You’re way too old for that.” “I am not old!” Mr. Matsuda glared daggers at her. As I got ready to go, Himeji stepped into the office and grabbed my arm. “Let’s go, Ryou.” “Huh? Uh, okay. Good-bye, Mr. Matsuda.” “Bye-bye!” Himeji hurried out of the agency, pulling me along. On our way back, she started grumbling. “Those girls don’t know anything. They all think becoming an idol is the end of the line, the fools.” Himeji had easily passed her audition to become an idol the other day, and was now talking about the girls she was taking lessons with. “Don’t be mean,” I said. “They have no drive.” Come to think of it, I didn’t even know why Himeji was working in this industry. I didn’t get the impression she was following in the footsteps of someone she admired, like Hina was, and I’d never heard her talk about an idol she looked up to. “Himeji, why did you start working in entertainment?” “What? You’re asking that now?” “I guess I just never thought about it.” “To reunite with you, of course.” “Huh?” “After we were separated, I thought that if I became famous, we could meet again.” “…Seriously?” I stole a glance at her, and she smiled ambiguously. “I’m lying,” she said. But I wasn’t sure that was the truth. “There’s another reason, too. To show everyone how awesome I am.” I was pretty sure she wasn’t doing it to spread smiles around the world or anything, and indeed, this reason seemed very in character. “That’s what I expected.” Her self-confidence was completely maxed out. Her goal was predicated on the fact that she was already amazing. And she was still smirking. She must have even more to say. “I mean, there’s no other girl like me.” Her face was taking the word smug to new heights. “I am not some one-hit wonder.” Is she still not over that? She might have her eyes set on conquering the world, but she still saw Hina as her rival. “Going viral like that is a cheater’s way to the top. They’ll soon realize she has no talent and throw her away,” she said. “There are plenty of girls with nothing but a pretty face out there. She’s completely disposable.” No one could compete with Himeji when it came to dissing Hina. She looked straight into my eyes and smiled valiantly. “Just wait. In ten years, you’ll regret not having chosen me.” “I guess we’ll see.” “…Oh, are you already regretting it?” “No.” Himeji trotted a few steps ahead of me, then looked back at me over her shoulder. “This is your chance. Hug me tight from behind and whisper, It’s actually you I love, and I’ll give you the honor of being my boyfriend. And I’ll forgive you for getting it wrong the first time.” It was a proposal brimming with confidence. She’d even said it would be my honor. “Although I’ll never forget your mistake.” What a terrifying addition. “Stop testing me. I’m pretty sure I chose right,” I said, catching up to her. “What a fool.” She slammed into me from the side. “If my love life fizzles out, cheer me up, okay?” I said. “No way.” “I knew you’d say that.” We giggled. “Ryou, you need to be a little selfish. I don’t think worrying about inconveniencing each other makes for a good relationship.” I glanced at her from the side. Her face was surprisingly serious. When it comes down to it, you’re pretty nice, too, Himeji.