Maybe that’s something you can get somewhere else, in any club, in any group of friends hanging out, but all I know is this place. Sorry, but I have no other way to get it across.
So at least, I want you to touch all of that, thoroughly and completely, with your own hands.
I couldn’t say something like that succinctly anyway. I don’t feel like just words would be enough to communicate it, and it’s too embarrassing in front of everyone, so I kept all that to myself.
I smiled with just the corners of my lips, straightened in my seat like this was a matter of importance, and, with a silly gesture, bent my straightened back at a forty-five-degree angle.
“Then formally now, Captain Hikigaya: I’m honored to follow your leadership.”
She stared at my silly bow; then she sniffed and laughed. “Ah-ha! Mm-hmm! Yes, you are!” Komachi puffed out her modest chest, putting on the most mannerly posture as she acted with as much haughtiness as she could.
Yuigahama, watching, nodded with a gentle mm, while Yukinoshita sighed in satisfaction. Isshiki, leaning her hand on her cheek, cracked an exasperated smile.
“Oh yeah. Speaking of thanks…” I glanced over at Isshiki.
At that signal, Yuigahama rustled around in her bag to bring out a stylish box. “Something for you, too, Iroha-chan. Thanks.”
“O-okay… Thanks… Uh, you’re welcome?” Though Isshiki couldn’t seem to figure out how to answer, when Yuigahama handed her the box, she raised it over her head in thanks. “…Can I open it?”
“Go ahead,” Yukinoshita prompted her.
After carefully peeling off the wrapping, Isshiki popped open the lid. When she saw the contents, she made a little sound. “Huh?”
Still with an expression of blank surprise, she pulled out what was in the box, placed it on the table, and examined it. Before her was a mug with a wild strawberry pattern in white and pastel pink. You didn’t have to set it next to Komachi’s mug to tell that it was the same design in a different color.
“Huh? Um, I’m not a member of the club, though… Is this okay?” Isshiki asked with some confusion and a shy smile.
“Oh, you weren’t…?” Yuigahama muttered.
“Yeah, she’s actually not. But for some reason, she comes all the time,” Komachi whispered stealthily in Yuigahama’s ear.
Beside her, Yukinoshita sighed in exasperation and shrugged. “Well, it’s too late now. Besides, I don’t like adding paper cups to the waste disposal.”
Ohhh, I think I’ve heard that one before. Come ooon. For someone who doesn’t like adding to disposals, you sure have a lot of excuses at yours . But if I say that, I think I would get beaten to a pulp, so I will keep quiet.
Instead, I gave Isshiki a tiny bow. “Well, if anything happens, I’ll be counting on you.”
Isshiki spent a few moments blinking at me, but she eventually puffed out her not-so-modest chest with a smug chuckle that paid homage to Komachi’s earlier show. “Mm-hmm, yes, you will be… Don’t you think that was kinda…nonchalant? Weren’t you being more polite to Okome-chan?” Then when she realized what she was doing halfway through her reply, she got real huffy with a hmph! and heckled me aggressively.
I was about to handle this by rattling off some nonsense like Oh, no, not at all. In fact, I have a reputation for being needlessly chalant about a lot of things, when from beside Isshiki, Komachi popped in and tugged at her sleeve.
“Iroha, Iroha.”
“What? What is it?” Isshiki answered as if annoyed.
Komachi swished back her blazer, flattened out the wrinkles of her skirt, placed her hands on her lap, and did a dainty bow. “I am aware I will be burdening you in many ways, but I formally ask that you please take care of me in the future as well.”
“Agh, well, likewise,” Isshiki said, kind of confused at the sudden polite bowing.
Taking advantage of her confusion, Komachi laughed with an eh-heh-heh and barreled right on. “Also, for that thing you were talking about before, please write up whatever sounds good! Komachi’s leaning towards putting us in ,” she said cuuutesily and with the most crazily casual manner possible. As in, Isshiki looked like she was about to lose her mind.
“So casual…and careless… Huh, I was kind of honestly worried about that, though…”
At that, Komachi huffed out her nose, clenched both fists, and said emphatically, “This is all because you were honestly worried. Oh, this part is for real.”
“Ah, I see… Not like I care anymore… Hey, your sister’s sense of ethics is totally broken,” Isshiki protested to me vehemently, tugging at my sleeve.
Gently escaping from her grasp, I made to defend my sister—more or less. “Well, rambling about a bunch of BS can be, like, a way she hides her shyness…,” I said.
Yukinoshita nodded mm-hmm with deep interest, putting a hand to her chin. “She resembles you in that way, Hikigaya,” she murmured with a wry smile.
“But it’s not cute when Hikki does it…,” Yuigahama said, kinda put off.
Isshiki snorted. “It’s not cute when Okome-chan does it, either.”
“Hmph! Oh, but if Komachi sulks here, then it makes it seem like I think I’m cute, and that’s a low Komachi score…”
“Seriously, listen to this girl…”
With that above-it-all composure seniors are wont to have, we watched Komachi and Isshiki teasing each other again. Mm-hmm, they’re getting along. Very good.
Then suddenly, Yukinoshita checked all our cups and rose to her feet without a word. Noticing that, Yuigahama rummaged around in her bag and brought out more snacks to empty onto the plate. And I, just like always, turned the page of the paperback I was reading.
“Oh, Komachi’ll help with the tea, too,” Komachi said.
“Oh? Well then, how about we do it together?” Yukinoshita replied.
While overhearing their conversation, I happened to look around, sweeping my gaze over the clubroom.
The rays of the inclining sun had grown much redder, coloring the steam for the tea, and for just a brief moment, it created a warm spot of sunlight in this clubroom.
Yuigahama was yoinking and munching snacks, Isshiki was facedown on her desk, exhausted and weary, Yukinoshita was instructing Komachi in detail on how to make the tea, and Komachi was a little weirded out by her manner of direction.
On the table were the familiar Western teacup and the mug with the dog printed on it. In my hands was the Japanese cup, and then there were the still brand-new matching mugs.
At some point, the cups had changed number and form, and even the sights in this room were changing.
I could imagine half a year ahead, but I didn’t know about one year ahead. Two or three years in the future, or flying across greater intervals like ten years down the line, there probably wouldn’t remain a single sign that we’d been here.
But—
Right after I’d thought that, a fragrant aroma wafted across the room.
When I looked for its source, I saw Komachi pouring tea under Yukinoshita’s tutelage.
Yukinoshita folded her arms and narrowed her eyes, scrupulously observing every single move of Komachi’s. Though Komachi was slightly in awe of that gaze, she was slowly pouring the tea with neat and careful gestures.
Eventually, this scene would be lost as well, and everything about this room would change.
But even so, I’m sure.
I’m sure the scent of tea in this room will stay the same.