“So what is it?! Out with it! Hurry up!” She adjusted her glasses, put her hands on her hips, and puffed out her chest. The way she was glaring at Sousei’s group may have seemed high-and-mighty, but her actions showed incredible kindness.
Tadeshina really is…such a good person…
Sousei felt himself starting to well up with tears.
I can’t… Am I tired? …Well, I am exhausted… And sleepy…
“So…” Moena took Iori’s hand and had her sit in an empty chair. “About yesterday. We got a reply to our letter. It seems Miss Hitsujimoto doesn’t have a smartphone.”
“Cell phones are convenient, but they’re also harmful. As long as it doesn’t bother you, then it’s fine not to have one.”
“Do you not have a phone, Tadecchi?”
“I do. However, I limit the amount of time I use it, and I don’t rely on it to easily look up every little thing. Doing that makes you stupid.”
“That’s kinda harsh…”
“I’m just stating the facts. If you rely on external devices for functions you’d normally utilize your mind for, such as memory and information processing, those parts of your brain are bound to deteriorate, meaning you’ll become dumber. So? What will you do about it? You’re saying you want to exchange information with Miss Hitsujimoto, who has a hard time holding everyday conversations? And that you want to do it without talking to her directly? Communicating through letters is quite indirect, isn’t it? And that would basically be one-on-one. In that case, oh, maybe something like an exchange diary?”
“An exchange—”
Moena and Asumi traded glances.
“—diary!”
“Oh yeah…,” Yukisada murmured, sounding impressed. Sousei, on the other hand, was in a daze.
An exchange diary…
Two or more people would share a diary, with each person writing down what happened that day, their thoughts, and any messages to the other people, then reading what the others wrote. Naturally, Sousei didn’t have any experience writing in an exchange diary. He’d never had any reason to. Even the term exchange diary was something he felt he hadn’t heard in a long time.
“An exchange diary!” Moena repeated before grasping Iori’s hand. “Come to think of it, I had one of those in elementary school! With you, Tadecchi!”
“…Y-yes. I’d be lying if I denied it, so what else can I say? Would you please let go of my hand?”
“Your entries were always so long, but mine got shorter and shorter every time. I started feeling kinda bad about that and finally gave up.”
“It’s fine, really! It was a bother for me, too! Now, would you please let go of my hand?”
“Ah, I miss that. You wrote about a book you recommended, didn’t you, Tadecchi? And I borrowed it from the library and read it.”
“I can’t believe you still remember that! It’s fine, so would you please let go of my hand?!”
“I still have it—the exchange diary with you, Tadecchi. It’s in my desk drawer.”
“Whaaat…?! Are you an idiot?! Throw that away already! That’s something I want to forget!”
“I wanna seeee!” Asumi started causing an uproar, and Iori shouted at her.
“Please don’t try to violate people’s privacy just to satisfy your own curiosity! Forget privacy, it wouldn’t be a stretch to even call it a violation of human rights! Let go already, Hina!” Iori finally managed to free herself from Moena’s grip. “You shall dispose of the exchange diary in question immediately! Got that?!”
“Huh…?” Moena lowered her eyes, looking discontented and a bit sad. “You want to throw it away? In that case, can’t we look at it together one more time before I do? It’s a keepsake, you know.”
“That’s the same thing as asking me to cut my stomach open. Are you telling me to kill myself?”
“That’s a bit of an overexaggeration…,” Sousei said without thinking. Needless to say, this earned him a glare from Iori, and he cowered back. “…Sorry.”
“By the way, do you have something to use as a diary?” Iori asked, looking around at them. She didn’t wait for a reply. “You don’t, do you? If you don’t mind using a notebook, why not get a blank one and use that? Oh, I’m guessing you don’t have one. Fine, I guess it can’t be helped.”
She let out a sigh and walked determinedly back to her desk, where she took something out of her bag. It looked like a notebook. Iori soon returned and placed the notebook on Sousei’s desk.
“I just happen to have a spare notebook, so I’ll give it to you. You can use this if you want.”
“Whoa.” Yukisada’s eyes widened, and he clapped his hands. Moena and Asumi hugged Iori.
“Tadecchi!”
“You’re the best, Iorin!”
“S-stop that. Don’t be absurd… I-Iorin?!” Iori’s face turned bright red, and her glasses slipped out of place.
Asumi rubbed her cheek against Iori’s. “Iorin because you’re Iori! You don’t like it?”
“…I-it’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just… I don’t dislike it, but… Ugh, it’s fine! Is that bad?!”
“It’s not bad at all! Thanks, Iorin. I’ll buy a new notebook and give it to you when I see you next!”
“I—I don’t need one, because I’m not lending this to you. I’m giving it to you… I-it’s only a notebook… Just think of it as a…a present or something…”
“In that case, I’ll give you a present in return!”
“…Y-you’ll give me…a present in return…?” Iori’s head was spinning, it seemed. She looked unsteady on her feet, but there was no worry she might fall over because she was being held up by Asumi and Moena, who were hugging her. However, her face was so flushed, it was a wonder why steam wasn’t rising from it. It looked like any second now, she’d boil over.
“…L-let go of me,” Iori said. “Please. I want to go back to my book. I want to keep reading. Please.”
Asumi and Moena listened to her pleas and released Iori, who took a deep breath as she adjusted her glasses. She took a permanent marker out of her pocket and put it on the desk next to the notebook.
“You can use this to write the title. Please return my permanent marker when you’re finished using it. I’m going back to my reading now. I hope it all goes well.”
Needless to say, Sousei and his friends bowed deeply in thanks to Iori as she walked away.
“Can I write the title?” Asumi asked, and no other volunteers came forward. “Okay, then—” She picked up the permanent marker and, one by one, wrote the letters neatly and carefully on the cover.