It wasn’t difficult to imagine that her good looks, temperament, and wit had made her stand out, ever since she was very young. And it was easy to imagine how children so special, so unique, would be treated by the others.
And in that sort of situation, her childhood friend Hayato Hayama had chosen just about the worst option I could think of. Basically, he’d tried to mediate to make Yukinoshita friends with everyone, with other girls.
But that had just made things harder for her. Of course—that’s what it means for Hayato Hayama to make a move. To say nothing of when they were all little, with more feelings than they could handle. Self-restraint wasn’t an option there.
I had no way of knowing how clever he’d been back then, but now he understood how foolish he’d been, at least.
“I should have done everything I could to save her then. If I had…,” Hayama said.
If he had, then what?
The way he talked got on my nerves, and I narrowed my eyes. “What’s the point of these what-ifs?”
“Well, she doesn’t want to be like this, does she?” Hayama gave a self-deprecating smile, as if to turn aside my gaze. There wasn’t even an ounce of his usual charm there; dark passions swirled in the depths of his murky eyes. “You shouldn’t engage with this halfway. You need to take it seriously, face it with everything you have. I didn’t have the determination or motivation for that…but you’re different, aren’t you?”
His words suggesting an impossible future, his imploring eyes, his mouth describing a past unknown to me—all of it was so aggravating, I clenched my teeth until they creaked. “Those are your regrets. Don’t dump them on me.” My tone turned sharper as I glared at him.
Hayama’s eyes slid down. “True… Those are my regrets. I’ve been holding on to them ever since. I can’t erase or forget. I’m always looking back… I can’t move on.” His fingers clutched at his chest, and he grunted a little with pain. His handsome face was full of sorrow, and the force in his voice sounded painful, too.
What would those who knew the regular Hayato Hayama think if they saw him like this? Would they feel despair? Or sympathy? Or contempt?
What I felt was envy. Those regrets seemed like something to be jealous of.
If only I could manage to carve something into myself that vividly. If only I could carry something close to my chest my whole life, like a treasure. If only I could feel so deeply about one thing that I could never forget it.
I have no regrets like that.
That anguish was so astounding to me, I could hardly stand to witness it.
But then Hayama’s foot crunched on the sand, and he shifted his whole body toward me, preventing me from escaping his gaze. “Hikigaya…your way of doing things is wrong. I know that’s not what you should be doing.”
I couldn’t turn my eyes or my head away, so I closed my eyes.
It’s just you.
You’re the only one who’ll say that to me—the only one who’ll say something that is completely right, vague enough to be interpreted freely, and absolutely worthless.
I’m really glad you’re Hayato Hayama.
He can’t ignore someone being hurt, and he can’t forgive someone who hurts another. That’s why he still can’t forgive himself.
He tried to avoid harming anyone, which led to harming someone important to him—and yet he still can’t betray the image built up by him and everyone around him. He’s ultimately been driven to a dead end, and that’s why he was giving me this meaningless, righteous argument with obvious pain. Even now he was hurting himself.
He knew it was something he couldn’t do, understood it was something I can’t do, but he couldn’t not say it.
This is the thing about him that I really can’t stand.
I really do hate him.
That’s why I can say this, too.
I’m sure I wouldn’t say this in front of anyone else.
I’ll say it because it’s you. I can sympathize with you so much, but I can’t understand you at all. You have only one point in common with me and yet too many similarities, and that part of you that won’t forgive me for those differences. I’ll say it because it’s you, who never, ever goes wrong.
Clenching my teeth and fists tight, I let out a small, weak breath. “Shut up… I know.”
I knew this was the wrong way of going about things. But I didn’t have anything else. I don’t know any other way. In the end, this was the only way we could communicate.
There was just one thing I could do.
Just one.
“I understand all that. I’m doing this in full knowledge. That’s the only way to prove it.” Slowly opening my eyes, I could see my exhalation drift from my mouth and then disappear. It was just like my words, vanishing the moment they were out of my mouth.
“…Prove what?” Hayama leveled a hard look at me. If he was going to ask me that seriously, I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t really prepared any further explanation.
I briefly considered if I should make something up or just say whatever came to mind or bluff, but in the end, I decided not to keep it inside. “If she doesn’t need saving, but I still want to save her anyway…then that’s not codependency. If I can prove that, that’s enough,” I said with a completely real smile.
Hayama blinked, surprised by either my expression or what I’d said. Then his shoulders relaxed, and a little smile came to his lips. “Hikigaya… Do you know what that feeling is called?”
“I do. It’s a man’s pride.” I smirked as I pretended not to know what he meant.