Iroha Isshiki was both the student council president and the soccer club manager.
And, if I may add, not a member of the Service Club.
And yet you just keep showing up here… Eh, it’s totally okay, though. So long as you don’t bring any land mines that are gonna be a huge hassle.
Well, well, whatever is my lady’s business this fine morrow? I looked over at Isshiki to see her taking a seat in the chair that had been designated hers at some point. She was glancing all around the room.
“…Ummm, sooo where are Yukino and Yui? They not here today?” Isshiki’s gaze drifted to the two empty seats. Normally, that was where Yukinoshita and Yuigahama would be sitting, but unfortunately, they were off that day.
“They said they had some stuff to do, so they’re not coming,” I answered.
“Yep, yep, so today is Komachi and Bro working as a pair,” Komachi added.
Isshiki put a hand to her chin. “Mgh. Really? Oh, darn…”
“Huh, what…? Is there some kind of problem?” I asked, fearing she might have come here with another unreasonable demand from the student council.
Isshiki beamed a bright smile and then nonchalantly remarked: “No, just thinking the tea server isn’t here…”
“Just what do you take Yukinoshita for?” I said with a scandalized look. She better not think the Service Club is a café or something…
Isshiki clunked her forehead with a tee-hee-blep-bonk, shooting off a wink and sticking out her tongue with a smile. “Just kidding. ”
I would no longer be fooled by that; it was way past the point now where I would think, Aw nooo, this girl is soo cunning-cute! But she is cute… She is cute, but that’s that and this is this, and I had to ask the nature of her business. I mean, she is cute, though?
“Oh, then Komachi will pour the tea today,” Komachi said.
“Thanks, Okome-chaaaan! ” Isshiki tittered tee-hee.
Komachi replied “It’s nothing, it’s nothing” as she rose from her seat.
Wow, that Okome-chan nickname has actually stuck… Maybe I’ll call her Rice-chan at home, too! But Rice-chan won’t call me “Brother” in that refined and respectful way, I mused as Rice-chan skillfully prepared the tea.
But I couldn’t just sit around like this, waiting for the tea to be served. I glanced over at Isshiki, prompting her to continue like, So, what’re you here for? She’d just muttered “Oh darn,” so it was probably some new hassle.
When Isshiki saw me look at her, she cleared her throat. “If you muuust call it work, then yes, I did more or less come with work. There was a little something I wanted to ask you about…” She put her index finger to the end of her chin, cocked her head, and sighed. I could tell she was worrying about whether to bring it up.
Then her gaze moved to the empty seats.
Hmm, I don’t know what she came to ask us about, but it seems like she wanted Yukinoshita and Yuigahama to hear it. Nothing for it but to get her to come back another day…
But before I could say anything, Komachi jumped on it. “Oooh, a request?” Her eyes sparkled, filled with eagerness.
Well, the Service Club was for getting requests and consultations and stuff. Maybe she was excited to finally get some activity that was Service Club-like.
Komachi quickly finished preparing the tea, switched the electric kettle on, and bounced back to her original seat.
Then she turned to Isshiki and swished the hair off her shoulders with the back of her hand.
Uh, your hair isn’t long enough to swish…, I thought, and then Komachi swished it back a second and third time with an incredibly serene smile on her face. “Then let’s hear what you have to say. Please take a seat,” she said, putting on an extremely composed persona as she indicated Isshiki’s seat.
This left Isshiki bewildered, mouth half-open. “No, no, I’m already sitting… Wait, is that your Yukino impression? Ha-ha! It’s nothing like her… Wait, actually, it kinda is like her.”
Komachi swished her hair back again as if batting away Isshiki’s half laugh, then touched that hand to her lips. “Komachi is simply conducting herself as the club president. Komachi wouldn’t designate this as an impression of Yukino.” Komachi’s impression of Yukino Yukinoshita was getting more and more exaggerated.
“Ohhh, you nailed it—she does talk pretentiously like that.” Isshiki jabbed a finger at her like, That’s it! and burst into giggles.
C’mon now, girls. Don’t, like, be a jerk or whatever.
I considered telling them off in a gyaru-like way, but making jokes at the expense of people higher than you on the food chain, mainly when they’re not in the room, is just what younger people do. It would be crass to stop such behavior. I dunno why I needed to be a gyaru, either.
But don’t take it too far, now… If she saw that impression, she’d get very huffy about it. Well, her sulky mood has its own appeal…, I thought as the two girls further entertained themselves with impressions of their elders.
“Huhhh. So then maybe I’ll try practicing yahallo,” said Isshiki.
“Ohhh! I’d love to see you go all in on a yahallo!” Komachi replied. “That would be hilarious all by itself.”
“…Hold up? Hilarious is kind of a weird word to use. You don’t mean it like laughing at me, do you?”
“No, no, not pffft at all.”
“You’re totally laughing at me…”
Despite this conversation, I doubt Yuigahama would be mad if Isshiki did greet people with yahallo.
However, that would be forgiven precisely because Yuigahama and Isshiki had a trusting relationship. If someone not all that close to her—like Zaimokuza or the UG club guys, for example—teased her about it, that would honestly be really scary. She’d be like, Stop it in a low tone of voice, and then it’d be like, Oh shit, she’s actually mad. …Though I suppose that’s also nice for what it is. Like how she’ll occasionally let her genuine anger show—I can kinda get into that? This Hachiman guy is always getting into everything.
But anyway, teasing someone when they’re not around can be a sign of how much they’re loved. This tends to be used as an excuse for backbiting, too, but, well, as far as I could see, this was within the scope of friendly playing.
Yukinoshita and Yuigahama are both adored by their juniors, huh?
As I was pondering these matters, the electric kettle eventually made bubbling sounds, and the water started to boil.
Kettle in hand, Komachi hummed as she poured out the tea. A familiar aroma gradually wafted into the air, rising along with the steam.
While that was steeping, Komachi set out my Japanese teacup and two paper cups. It seemed she wasn’t going to use Yukinoshita’s and Yuigahama’s cups, even though they were absent.
Holding the teapot in her hands, Komachi briskly poured the black tea into the cups—she was hardly green at this, after all (ha-ha).
“Okaaaay, here you go,” she said.
“Ohhh, thanks.” I raised the offered cup above my head in gratitude, then took the first sip. Mm, I’m feeling great today, and the tea is, too…
So I was enjoying the tea as usual, but Isshiki wasn’t reacting so well. She took one sip, then another, squinting and scrutinizing the surface of the tea in the paper cup as if checking something. “Hmm…”
Isshiki’s meaningful sigh made Komachi scowl. “Hmph! You have something to say? Is there some problem with it?”
Isshiki waved a hand at that. “No, it’s fine… I was just thinking, Yukino sure is good at making tea, huh?”
“Ahhh… Yeah, compared with her…” Komachi’s sigh sounded almost resigned, and she nod-nodded like that made sense to her, too.
But I wasn’t about to do the same; I had a question mark above my head. “Huh? Does it taste that different?” I slurped another mouthful to let my palate examine its structure. I held it in my mouth for a while to check, but the taste spreading over my tongue was black tea. If she’d changed it to oolong tea or green tea, of course I would be able to tell, but black tea is always just black tea.
Huh… I don’t get it at all… Is something different? I looked over at the one who’d made it.
Komachi shrugged with a wry smile. “It’s the same tea leaves, but still…” Then she put a hand to her chin with a hmm and started to think. “Maybe it really does make a difference after all.”
“Ohhh, did you change something?” I asked.
Komachi smiled vaguely. “You know, ’cause love is the secret ingredient.”
Hmmm! That makes it sound like there’s no love in this teaaa!
Well, it’s true that just now, Komachi poured the tea in a quick, offhand, and almost careless manner. I’d been admiring her efficiency due to experience… Could it be there’s no love in her regular cooking?
So I found myself doubting Komachi’s love, but Isshiki shot that down. “No, no, it’s just a different technique. Yukino puts a lot of time and effort into it.”
“Hmm… Really…?” I tried thinking back on when I’d seen Yukinoshita pour tea, but I couldn’t quite remember how much time she’d taken on it. Well, I think all her gestures are careful, not just when she makes tea, so maybe she’s just refined in general…
But someone with an eye for it probably would see a difference.
Paper cup in hand, Isshiki took another drink. “When Yukino makes it, it’s like, Black tea! But Okome-chan’s feels like, Tea… It tastes like what you drink at home.”
“You don’t have to say it like that…,” I grumbled. “Except I kinda get what you mean.” I do drink Komachi’s tea regularly, so it tastes exactly like home to me. Put nicely, it’s simple and reassuring, I suppose…
Since she wasn’t being explicitly dissed, it seemed Komachi didn’t quite know how to react to these comments about her work. “But, like, isn’t that more about your mental image of the tea…?” she said, frowning.
Isshiki nodded. “Well, that’s part of it.”
“Komachi can’t do anything about that, though…” With a dry laugh, Komachi acquiesced. She was shrugging like Tora-san going, If you’re gonna tell me that, it’s over.
Well, we’re a house of common plebs after all… You can’t avoid the sort of humble domesticity apparent in not only the taste, but the way Komachi moves and comports herself. You can’t compare that to the Yukinoshita family, with their air of high society.
But that humble housewifeyness is Komachi’s charm, and that’s precisely what makes her the little sister of the world.
It seemed Isshiki understood that without me having to make such arguments, as she was nodding like Huh, uh-huh and going “Wellll, I guess.”