My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong As Expected

Page 261

However, there are some things we don't want the other party to know.

"oh."

I gave a noncommittal reply, glanced at the clock on the wall, and busied myself with eating my breakfast again.

In contrast, Komachi seemed quite relaxed.

"Brother, remember to chew your food slowly and carefully. And also—"

Komachi didn't give up. She probably already knew I wanted to interrupt, which is why she seemed so unhurried.

She seemed to remember something and turned her gaze elsewhere.

"The same thing has happened before."

"Have it?"

I said it like that, but I knew perfectly well what was going on. What Komachi was referring to must have been something that happened this June. I vaguely remember her saying the same thing to me back then.

What? I'm exactly the same as I was six months ago. I'm really something else.

There was no growth, no change. Nothing at all.

Komachi held the teacup, warming her hands. Even though there were no tea stalks floating in the cup (Note 6: In Japanese culture, tea stalks standing upright in a cup are considered a good omen), she kept staring at it.

"...However, this time seems a little different."

"Of course. People change every day, even cells metabolize. I heard the cycle is about five or seven years. So, people..."

"Yes, yes, yes~"

Komachi gave a helpless smile and quickly dismissed the matter. Then, she released her grip on the teacup and placed it on her lap.

"...So, what did my brother do this time?"

"Why does it have to be based on the premise that I caused trouble? That's really strange!"

I protested, but Komachi just stared at me silently. Under that gaze, I couldn't keep dodging the question.

I instinctively scratched my head and looked away.

"...Nothing was done. Nothing actually happened."

Hearing this, Komachi sighed.

"My brother probably did something, but he just lacks awareness. There's really no way... Let's try to recall everything one by one."

"I don't think it will have any effect..."

Actually, I've been thinking about this for a while.

In the days following my return from Kyoto, I kept reflecting on what I had done, trying to figure out if there was anything wrong with it or if I had done something incorrect.

However, no matter how much I thought about it, I could only conclude that the method was the most efficient, reliable, and safest. Given the extremely limited time and available methods, I believed my approach achieved an acceptable result.

I successfully averted the worst-case scenario and also completed another person's request. While whether the method is commendable is debatable, at least there were results in the end.

However, these are all trivial matters, and I only need to know them myself; there is no need to tell Komachi.

"Hmm, I still can't think of anything."

I shrugged, teased Komachi a little, and then quickly shoveled the rest of the rice in my bowl into my mouth, as if to say, "Let's leave it at that."

However, Komachi still refused to give up.

"Here we go again~ So, what exactly happened?"

She tilted her head, cupped her cheek, and smiled mischievously.

While such actions may be cute, they are actually filled with a strong will, not allowing me to be ambiguous.

However, no matter how much I try to endure it, I will eventually get annoyed.

Normally, Komachi's clinginess wouldn't be unbearable for me. I would just laugh it off or change the subject to distract her.

That being said, if today were any different from any other day, Komachi wouldn't be so persistent and clingy.

I felt as if I was being forced to confront the fact that I was deliberately trying to act as usual, and a fire ignited within me.

"...This is so annoying, just stop it."

"..."

In my anxiety, I blurted out those words, and Komachi froze. The next moment, her shoulders began to tremble.

Then, her eyes widened and she protested loudly.

"...What kind of talk is that?!"

"I'm just telling the truth. You're incredibly annoying."

Even if my intention was to divert attention, I absolutely shouldn't have said such a thing. But once the words are spoken, they can never be taken back.

What has been done can never be undone.

Komachi squinted at me, then gently lowered her gaze.

"Hmm...I see. Okay, Komachi won't ask any more questions from now on."

"That's for the best."

The conversation ended there, and no one spoke again.

We continued eating breakfast in silence; the time seemed to freeze, passing by incredibly slowly.

Komachi finished her miso soup in big gulps, got up to clear the table of dishes, and then took them to the kitchen counter.

Then, she walked loudly to her front door, stopped, and without looking in my direction, quickly said:

"Komachi is leaving now. Remember to lock the door later."

"Um."

After I responded, Komachi slammed the door shut.

She mumbled indistinctly from outside the door.

"Something clearly happened..."

I was alone in the living room when I picked up my cup to drink some tea. The tea was no longer hot; it was only lukewarm.

If I remember correctly, this is the first time in several years that I've argued with Komachi. Only now am I starting to worry whether I've upset her.

Komachi rarely gets angry. But when she does get angry, it lasts for a long time. Besides, she's a teenage girl in her prime, and I can't even imagine what kind of expression she'll give me when she gets home today.

I can't even handle my own sister, so getting along with other people is a huge challenge.

× × ×

The road to school was filled with the scent of autumn.

Along the bike path by the Hanami River, some trees have leaves that have turned vibrant colors, while others have already fallen. The sky looks so distant, and a dry wind blows from the sea, carrying not a trace of summer moisture.

I can feel the seasons changing at a slow pace. The changes are especially noticeable between summer and autumn. As autumn deepens, the signs of winter begin to emerge.

This series of seasonal changes may well be the most diverse of all.

Autumn is deepening; I wonder what the neighbors are doing next door?

This is a very famous haiku by Matsuo Bashō.

The reason I want to know what the people next door are doing is simply because of the unique sadness and loneliness of this season.

Because of loneliness, one begins to care about someone; to fill the loneliness in one's heart, one cherishes the existence of others.

Conversely, this might express a desire for someone to care about them.

There's a saying: "Others are a mirror of ourselves." Simply put, so-called "others" are merely illusions we see through the filter of "ourselves." Therefore, the only one who truly exists is ourselves.

Ultimately, people are always only thinking about themselves.

Paying attention to what the people next door are doing is a way of comparing and verifying one's own behavior by comparing oneself to others.

Using others to prove one's existence is insincere. This approach is wrong.

Therefore, solitude is justice, and arrogance is the right answer.

I pedaled my bicycle, ignoring the occasional creaking of the rusty frame, and headed towards school.

Although leaving at this time won't make you late, it's still barely enough time.

This has always been my school schedule.

Upon arriving at the bicycle parking area, I saw many people rushing towards the classroom.

After parking my bicycle, I joined the group and hurried towards the classroom building. Lone wolves rarely walk with others, so they've developed an exceptional ability to walk at high speeds. If you master that skill, representing Japan in the race walking competition at the Tokyo Olympics wouldn't be a problem. No, of course it would be a problem.

The cool indoor environment is a familiar sight.

The cacophony of greetings and casual conversations extended up the stairs into the hallway.

After the graduation trip, the highlight of the event, everyone returned to their usual campus life.

The same situation continued even after entering the classroom.

While my classmates chatted leisurely, I remained silent, moving among the desks and the crowd until I reached my seat. I gently pulled out the chair and sat down, waiting for my tutor's turn.

Even when you empty your mind, your ears and eyes will still automatically start observing your surroundings.

No one seemed to react particularly strongly to me, so it seems the fake confession incident from a few days ago didn't spread. But logically speaking, that's quite understandable. After all, nobody wants to publicize something like that.

For Hobe, Ebina, and Hayama, it would be upsetting if everyone knew what happened on the last night of their graduation trip.

The atmosphere in the class remained unchanged. In fact, I felt that everyone seemed to get along even better.

If you think that the bonds between classmates will deepen with each activity, that's a big misunderstanding.

I think this is because there isn't much time they can spend together.

After a trip to Kyoto, where the weather turned cold earlier than usual, and experiencing the changing seasons, the most important event of my three years of high school came to an end. I'm sure everyone can relate to that.

November is coming to an end, winter vacation starts in late December, followed by the New Year in January, February has very few days, and then there is spring break in March—the days are passing by one by one, and the students in Class F have only three months left to spend together.

Therefore, everyone will cherish this time even more.

Why should we cherish it?

What people are reluctant to part with isn't their friends, but their youth, their years, and the time and place they live in. This behavior is somewhat similar to narcissism.

I observe, analyze, and draw conclusions on my own, then let out a small yawn. Thinking about a bunch of random things indicates that I'm physically and mentally exhausted.

The holiday has just ended, but my body feels as heavy as if it were weighed down with lead.

I'm doing some neck rotation exercises to relieve my stiff shoulders.

All I could see were the familiar, noisy faces from my class, and a ponytail-wearing girl who seemed detached from everything, gazing out the window at the scenery.

Even though the people around him seemed restless and agitated, Kawasaki remained true to himself.

In front of her seat were two or three girls huddled together sharing photos from their graduation trip, with Sagami being the most excited. She was a rare type; despite experiencing so much, she hadn't shown any significant growth. It didn't matter; I had no connection with her now, so it was none of my business. Fueled by the positive effects of the graduation trip, she stopped making hostile remarks about me.

Not only at Sagami University, but also among the students gathered in small groups in the classrooms, the topic of conversation was invariably graduation trips.

However, the things they talk about now will eventually become the past, gradually sinking into the depths of memory. Until one day in the future, when they inadvertently flip through the photos, they will remember them again.

This applies to graduation trips, and it also applies to the time they spend together.

Few people will realize this. Or rather, it is precisely because they have unknowingly discovered this that they are now forcing themselves to laugh loudly.

Everyone gradually pretended not to notice, turning a blind eye to the facts before their eyes.

Therefore, they are the same.

I turned my head again and peered into the back of the classroom.

The scene there was no different from before.

"Oh yeah, didn't we go back to Chiba that day? And then I saw the Keiyo Line decorated for Christmas, and I started to get really uneasy! That Disneyland ad was so prominent!"

Hubu casually tugged at his long, receding hairline. Just like before his graduation trip, he was a particularly lively person within the group.

"They're taking this way too seriously!"

"I understand."

Ooka and Yamato responded casually.

"Texas Disneyland..."