“I’m not sure,” she replied after a moment of hesitation. She seemed to genuinely consider the idea, so I was pretty sure she was being honest. She really didn’t know what she wanted. “It couldn’t be worse than the one-sided grudge I had against you up until recently. It wasn’t exactly pleasant feeling resentful all the time. Being childhood friends like that might almost be refreshing in comparison. It would be a bit embarrassing, but it’s better than treating you coldly again... And I certainly can’t treat you coldly right now. You’re already sick.”
“Weird time to start worrying about me, but thanks.”
I was about to crack up, but suddenly, the dream I’d just had flashed through my mind. Kiryu bore no resemblance to her whatsoever, but I was starting to feel comfortable around her, and that set off a warning bell in the back of my mind. My instincts were telling me not to let my guard down. That if I let her in any further, it would all happen all over again.
A combination of the dream’s lingering aftereffects and my state of physical weakness caused me to be overwhelmed by pessimism. It brought back all the trauma that I’d forgotten—or rather, that I’d been desperately trying to ignore.
“Kunugi-kun?”
I must’ve been grimacing in pain. Kiryu realized that something was wrong and looked concerned as she bent over to take a closer look at me. “I’m fine, I’m fine! Anyway, shouldn’t you be going home soon? The sun’s still out for now, but you definitely don’t wanna end up walking home in the dark.”
“I can’t just leave you alone when you’re this sick.”
“It’s really not a big deal.”
“Even if it isn’t, you live alone, don’t you? There’s no guarantee your condition won’t get worse, and you don’t want to be on your own if it does.”
“What, are you gonna stay here overnight?”
She paused. “I can’t say I haven’t considered the possibility.” I didn’t get the sense she’d actually made her mind up about that. It sounded more like she was just being contrary, though I had no clue where her obstinacy was coming from. Maybe she was feeling sensitive about how I’d been trying to drive her out, or maybe Kotou’s influence had her thinking she should act more like a proper childhood friend? Who knows.
“You really don’t have to go that far.”
“I don’t care whether I have to or not! I’m here because I want to be. You might not understand, but I can’t leave you alone when you’re in this state, so I’m going to keep an eye on you.”
“What, you think I’m gonna make a break for it if you take your eyes off me? I don’t even have the energy to get out of bed right now!”
“See?! You really are seriously ill!”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
We were butting heads out of pure stubbornness at that point. The atmosphere was getting progressively more and more combative. Maybe if I’d been a bit more polite about hinting that I wanted her to leave, she would’ve gone home without a fuss? Too late to apologize about being blunt now, though.
“Fine, then! I’ll contact my parents, and tell them I’m staying at a friend’s house tonight!”
“What?! Hey!” Kiryu pulled out her phone, pointedly ignoring me like a petulant child. I was grateful that she was worried about me, and she hadn’t done anything wrong at all, but the fact was that things just weren’t working out the way I’d hoped they would. And that was starting to get on my nerves. But just when the tension in the room was reaching critical mass, an unexpected element arrived to complicate things even further.
“No need to worry, Kiryu-san. I’ll stay here tonight to nurse Kou back to health.” An eloquent voice rang out from my front door. Standing there was a beautiful girl with long, wavy blonde hair. She looked just as out of place in my run-down wreck of an apartment as Kiryu.
“President Myourenji...?” Kiryu sounded like she couldn’t believe her own eyes. Why would she be here, of all places?
Myourenji Renge was the president of Oumei High’s student council. This might make her sound like a big fish in a small pond, but there wasn’t a single student at our school who didn’t know her name. She was a real celebrity, consistently placing in the top ranks of the national mock exams, and constantly relied upon by the teachers—in spite of the fact that her attendance numbers were, to say the least, lackluster.
She showed up to class the absolute bare minimum number of times required, spending the rest of her time stationed in the student council’s office. She was a real eccentric in that respect, but very few people acknowledged those strange qualities of hers. Geniuses can get away with an awful lot without raising any eyebrows.
“What’s the president of the student council doing here?” Kiryu unsurprisingly and immediately voiced her doubts. Whether Kiryu knew about her fame, her eccentric traits, both, or neither, it wouldn’t change the fact that it was unthinkable for her to show up at my home.
“Isn’t it natural for one of my status to visit a student when he’s sick? I consider it a part of my duties,” she said as she locked the door behind her and then pulled off her shoes. Her excuse was dubious in all sorts of ways, and though Kiryu obviously instantly realized it was a lie, she didn’t let her elegant heiress act drop for a second. “I’m surprised, though. You seem even more ill than I’d imagined.”
“I’m fine. The door’s right behind you whenever you’re ready to leave, by the way.”
“How very considerate of you to let me know,” Renge replied as she sat down next to Kiryu. She proceeded to open up the convenience store bag she was carrying. She clearly had no intention of leaving whatsoever. “I bought some pudding on my way over. You like pudding, don’t you, Kunugi-kun?”
“Ugh...” Kiryu groaned. It felt more like Renge was trying to prove a point to Kiryu than to me, and judging by that little noise she just made, it was working. That line came across as pretty snide, considering that Kiryu hadn’t brought any sort of “get well” gift. Let’s just try not to think about how she knew that Kiryu hadn’t brought anything. And for the record, I don’t even like pudding that much. It’s fine, I guess.
“Oh, I know,” the president said with a smile, “why don’t I feed you? It’s an incredible honor to be fed pudding by someone like me.”
“Wow, you really just said that about yourself? Yikes,” I replied.
“Oh, my word! What a rude manner of speaking.” She kept the company-president’s-daughter act up to the bitter end as she opened the (cheap, commoner-grade convenience store) pudding, but her smile made it clear that she was enjoying this. Kiryu, in contrast, was frowning as she watched our exchange.
“Do you two know each other?” Kiryu asked all of a sudden.
“Err, ah, I mean...”
“We have a mutual acquaintance in Ayase-kun.” The question was aimed at me, but the president intercepted it. Meanwhile, she scooped up a spoonful of pudding, holding it out to me with a “Say ‘aaaah’!” Kiryu gaped in astonishment. Why not feed it to her instead? Look, she’s ready for it already!