I didn’t think we could fix the curtain in one day, but thanks to Yoshino’s efforts, we got it done by evening. When our senpai finally released me from Chiaki’s room, Yoshino had already returned to sewing like her life depended on it. Even when I tried to make conversation, I only got silence in reply. She sewed without a single break until all the repairs were done.
At that point, she was covered in dust from the curtain, so she went to take a bath. As soon as she came back, she sank into her futon, likely exhausted from her frantic endeavors.
Yoshino often slept over. Her mother worked as a caregiver, and when she had an overnight shift, she apparently felt more comfortable with her daughter staying at a friend’s house than being home alone. We’d purchased matching pajama sets to use whenever she stayed over, and the guest cover on her futon’s duvet was the same kind as mine.
I could hear her breathe rhythmically as she slept. Turning off my bedroom lights, I headed back down to the living room.
“Huh? Where’s Yoshino?”
“She fell asleep. She must’ve been tired from all that detail work.”
“I wonder if the noise from the next room distracted her. Still, our house was the only place that worked for my group to all get together.”
Fresh from the bath, Chiaki sprawled on the sofa and scrolled through his phone. When he saw me take a two-pack of push-up popsicles from the freezer, he silently reached out his hand. I split the popsicles apart and handed him one, sitting on what little space was left on the sofa.
“Do you think she ran away because she was scared of us?” he asked.
“Probably. Still, I know she wants to do something about that. All we can do for her is have her back.”
Chiaki was aware of Yoshino’s phobia. We’d both picked up on it from conversational tidbits she’d shared about her parents divorcing before she even remembered them being together, never having a father figure around, and subsequently developing an extreme fear of men.
“She’s scared of men, but it’s not like she doesn’t like them,” Chiaki mused. “Still, I feel bad for her. She won’t be able to enjoy the post-festival bonfire, and that’s the most exciting event.”
During the festival, classes ran various booths, and clubs gave exhibitions and presentations. Once those wrapped up, a huge bonfire took place in the middle of the courtyard, and students danced to various folk songs. It was a popular school tradition passed from one generation of students to the next—and, apparently, famous for producing many couples. The classic pattern was that a boy and girl got close while prepping for the festival, which usually culminated in confessing feelings for each other at the bonfire. They’d then become an item.
“What about you? Do you have a reason to look forward to the bonfire?” I asked.
“Naw. I think I’ll just boogie to the ‘Mayim Mayim’ in drag with the other guys.”
It was easy to picture them dancing around, shouting wildly. Just the thought made me chuckle.
“If Yoshino saw me dressed as a girl, how do you think she’d react? Maybe it’d help rehabilitate her.”
“Absolutely not. She’d probably just run away from you.”
Chiaki continued enthusiastically tapping and scrolling on his phone as he sucked his tubular popsicle. I suspected he was participating in a group chat with the guests he’d had over earlier in the day.
“Think I could wear your clothes too, Hazuki?” he asked.
“Don’t even try it. You’d rip them for sure.”
Chiaki knew we had very different physiques. However close we were in age, we weren’t the same sex.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he murmured. “Iguchi’s in charge of our costumes. She mentioned there’s something off about the visuals when boys wear clothes meant for girls. She says she’s going to practice doing our makeup before the festival, too.”
Iguchi-senpai, the stunningly pretty girl I’d seen in Chiaki’s room, sometimes came up in Chiaki’s conversations. I’d thought they might be dating, but given what he said about the bonfire, it seemed they didn’t have that kind of relationship.
“Sounds like she’s looking into whether we should use wigs or hair extensions,” Chiaki continued. “She says that if we don’t have the budget for them, she’s willing to cover the difference herself. That won’t be cheap, though.”
Iguchi-senpai’s light-colored hair had caught my attention. She was stunning, and I got the impression she wasn’t the type to compromise on appearances in the least. If the boys were transformed under her watch, even my brother might end up looking presentable.
I finished my popsicle and got up to brush my teeth. Chiaki had been absorbed in his phone the entire chat, but he glanced over when he felt the sofa shift.
“You always wear those pajamas when Yoshino spends the night,” he observed.
“What’s wrong with that? This way, we match,” I quipped.
The pajamas in question were cherry-blossom pink and made from lightweight cotton. I liked them so much I wouldn’t have minded wearing them every night, but I only put them on when Yoshino stayed over.
Chiaki continued to study me, pouting. “Sometimes I mistake her for you at school and talk to her, you know. When I do, she looks terrified. It doesn’t feel great.”
Yoshino and I looked so similar, even my brother mixed us up. I knew Chiaki meant that as a complaint, but it was the best compliment he could’ve given me.
“You guys always dress the same,” he muttered. “I just don’t get the appeal of looking like twins.”
He didn’t say anything else after that, seemingly reabsorbed into his exciting group chat.
I brushed my teeth and returned to my room. I tried to open the door quietly, but I noticed Yoshino stir.
“Sorry. I fell asleep,” she murmured.
“Don’t worry. You did all that hard work by yourself. Go back to sleep and get some rest.” I got into bed without turning on the lights.
Yoshino seemed wide awake, though. She sat up and peered at my face. “Hey, Hazuki…”
“What’s up?”
“Was I acting strange today?”
What happened when we went to the other room must be bothering her, I thought, then repeated the concerns Chiaki had brought up earlier word for word.
“I figured I must’ve come off as awkward. I was just so nervous,” Yoshino replied.
“That’s not true. Everyone complimented you and said how cute you were.”
“Tono-senpai probably thinks I’m weird.”
To the casual observer, it would’ve seemed perfectly normal to thank someone who lent you their sweatshirt, but I knew just how much courage it took for Yoshino to initiate that conversation with Tono-senpai.
“Are Chiaki and Tono-senpai good friends?” she asked.
“Well, they’re in the same class. And they seemed to be chatting about the school festival earlier.”
Yoshino paused, then muttered under her breath, “If I go to their class during the festival, maybe I can see him.” She twisted the sheets in her fingers as she talked to herself.
Her head was angled down, so I couldn’t hear her clearly. As I leaned closer to pick up on what she was saying, she suddenly looked up at me.
“Um, Hazuki… I might be okay if it’s Tono-senpai.”
Our faces were so close, I felt the warmth of her breath. Even in the dark, I could tell her eyes were sparkling. Her gaze was so magnetic, it felt like I was being pulled in.
“I’m scared of him, but I’m not. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt this way about a boy,” she continued. “I wonder why. Maybe because he’s a little older? A high-schooler? He’s not like those other boys at all.”
I knew the true reason for Yoshino’s aversion to men. Her phobia had come from being bullied as a child.
Most of the teasing stemmed from her name, Somei Yoshino, just like the cherry tree. She hadn’t been born Somei, but taking her mother’s maiden name after her parents divorced caused her inevitable misfortune. While people who knew the reason for her name were usually polite and didn’t make comments, once Yoshino got into junior high, a boy who’d attended a different elementary started giving her a hard time about it.
The other girls didn’t want to get caught up in the drama, so they started avoiding Yoshino, making her feel even more isolated. She’d transferred to my school at such a random time because that was basically when Yoshino’s mother noticed a strange change in her daughter’s behavior: she would completely freeze up around men.
Fortunately, no one bullied Yoshino at her new school, but all the abuse she’d experienced damaged her ability to build relationships. Everyone could tell something was a little off about her. It couldn’t be denied that she was a bit of an odd duck, but that just made her unique.
Yoshino loved reading shojo manga, and she often lent them to me. We’d trade opinions on the stories, and she’d tell me she wanted to experience love like that herself someday. I was certain she still felt the same way, and that she’d like nothing more than to have that wish granted at the high school she’d worked so hard to enter.
“Do you like Tono-senpai?” I asked.
Even in the dim light, I could see Yoshino’s cheeks turning pink. After a slight pause, she replied, “I don’t know yet. I’m still scared of him, but my heart races whenever I see his face.”
Instant palpitations sounded like a sure sign of liking someone to me, but Yoshino didn’t seem certain of her budding feelings yet.
“I’d like to stop by his class during the school festival,” she added. “Will you come with me, Hazuki?”
I always immediately liked the manga Yoshino liked. Due to Chiaki’s influence, I’d only ever read shonen manga before, so I’d never imagined such delicate, heartwarming stories existed. If seeds of love were blossoming in Yoshino’s heart, I wanted to share that experience with her.
“Okay. I’ll get Chiaki to give us some café vouchers.”
“Thanks!” Yoshino smiled so broadly that I caught the faint scent of her toothpaste. It smelled just like the mint chocolate we’d eaten earlier that afternoon.
We always styled our hair the same way and wore matching outfits. We were inseparable, even at school. Having read the same manga and eaten the same sweets as Yoshino, I’d come to like shojo stories and the flavor of mint chocolate.
If Yoshino falls in love with Tono-senpai, I mused, will I fall in love with him too?