My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong As Expected

Page 544

...I did think that way before.

"Next, please invite a graduate representative to come up on stage to give a speech."

As announced by the emcee, the former student council member who had participated in the Great Wall return tour responded with great enthusiasm and walked onto the stage. She bowed in the center, then looked around the audience as if trying to see every single student. Even I felt as if our eyes met.

Finally, she smiled. It was the same warm smile she had shown me before.

With a voice so gentle it could melt away the serious atmosphere, Senior Sister Xun began to read her answer.

"On this sunny day..."

However, her smile only lasted for a moment. As she continued reading, the senior student choked up. She bit her lip and sobbed. Her trembling throat seemed to be encouraging herself not to cry.

That resolute appearance can only be described as deeply moving. I couldn't help but feel touched.

The frustrating thing is that the otaku is a user of the "Emotion-Emotion Fruit," meaning he's easily moved.

I was moved to tears at a concert; after the concert, on my way home, I posted my artsy thoughts on Twitter and was unexpectedly moved to tears again; when the Blu-ray was released, I was moved to tears once more. Every time, I was inexplicably moved in an unexpected moment.

We are the kind of people who love touching scenes, like when a voice actor calls us on a radio program or when we can't help but act cool at a meet-and-greet.

If I don't think about these boring things, I'm really about to cry.

"Furthermore, student council activities were an irreplaceable experience in my high school life. We worked with various classes, clubs, and volunteer students to organize many events. The most memorable were the school anniversary celebration and the sports festival... It was really tough back then!"

She paused for a moment, then broke into a radiant smile, like a blooming flower. Seeing that smile, I instantly felt a lump in my throat, and my vision began to blur.

Looking back, so much has happened this year—I'm filled with emotion, various memories flashing through my mind like a revolving lantern. Am I dying?

The person standing on the stage is the only one I'm willing to call "senior sister".

My senior gently wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes, her voice choked with emotion.

I sniffed. Just then, a hand reached out and patted my shoulder.

"What's wrong? This is so annoying. Can't you see I'm lost in my own sadness? Watch out, or I'll kill you!" I turned around with a sour face, but Hayama's expression was even more sour. He didn't say a word, but pointed to the side with his thumb, gesturing for me to look over there.

Two seats away, Totsuka was hurriedly taking out toilet paper from his pocket.

"Hachiman, are you alright?"

Totsuka lowered his voice and said worriedly, passing over some toilet paper. Tobe, sitting between us, also asked with concern:

"Compared to penguins, hay fever, huh? It's really annoying, isn't it? I get it."

No, shut up. I don't have hay fever. Although my eyes and nose are always itchy from early spring to early summer, it must be my imagination. Admitting it is a loss. I mumbled something in lieu of denial, but for some reason, the Ministry of Revenue gave me another pack of toilet paper.

"Here, have this too. Oh dear, I have hay fever too. It's so painful every spring."

"Minister of Revenue, you're being too loud..."

Kebu mouthed "Oh no..." after being scolded by Hayama. Even though he was only speaking in a whisper, how could he be so noisy? This guy is really noisy. He's a good person, that's true, but he's incredibly noisy. Come to think of it, no wonder he has hay fever. I personally give a thumbs up to guys who carry toilet paper with them. As for me, who doesn't carry toilet paper, I personally give a bad review.

After passing through Yeshan, the amount of toilet paper increased again. He also took a pack from his breast pocket and handed it to me. I took it and blew my nose forcefully.

"Leak some stuff..."

I choked back tears and said, "I'll return the toilet paper." Ye Shan took it, then said with a look of horror:

"...You've cried way too much."

"No, it's just that I'm getting older, and my tear ducts are becoming more sensitive... Lately, I can't help but cry whenever I see the Pretty Cure fighting the enemy..."

"So you cry every Sunday morning...?"

"There are also reruns, so I cry on weekdays too."

"Oh, I see..."

Ye Shan was even more terrified.

My tear ducts, honed by Pretty Cure and idol activities, can produce tears almost instantly. I cry almost every Saturday and Sunday. Now that MX and Chiba TV are rebroadcasting it, I've cried four times in total. After watching the fourth season, "On Parade!", just hearing the opening theme made my tears flow in gallons.

While I was crying, Senior Sister Xun continued her speech.

"From now on, we will walk our own paths step by step. Even if we encounter great obstacles in the future, we will still use the memories, knowledge, and glory we gained from Soubu High School as nourishment for our lives and move forward with strength. Thank you so much everyone."

The end is approaching. To use a concert analogy, it's like, "This is the last song." The audience is also showing an attitude of "Huh—we just got here."

However, no matter how much we guests wished it wouldn't end, the concert eventually had to conclude. The tour's senior sister's reply also came to an end.

"I would like to express my gratitude to everyone who has supported us... Representative of the graduates, Cheng Huixun."

After speaking, Senior Sister Xun bowed deeply and remained in that beautiful posture for a long time. During this silence, only the sobs and exhales of the audience could be heard.

"Thank you so much everyone! I really had a great time! Thank you!"

After a while, Senior Sister Xun slowly raised her head and put on her signature smile.

"Did everyone celebrate the school anniversary today?!"

Before leaving, she gripped the microphone and shouted. Attendees whispered among themselves, while parents looked utterly bewildered. The students in the audience, however, immediately remembered and responded loudly.

"Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh!"

After receiving a response, the senior student raised the corners of her mouth and took a deep breath.

"Famous Scenic Spots of Chiba—"

"Festivals and dances!"

"Since we're all complete fools—"

"If you don't dance, then..."

"Sing a song—"

Whether graduates or current students, everyone chanted slogans together like fools. Recalling the scene from the school anniversary celebration, everyone smiled.

The tearful atmosphere just moments before instantly changed.

Of course, the change should be for the better.

This was precisely the atmosphere that Senior Sister Xun created in her capacity as student council president. I can honestly say I knew absolutely nothing about the third-year students and had no interest in them. But I still think it was a fantastic graduation ceremony.

Just seeing the senior student's smile made the trip worthwhile.

Ah, that's wonderful!

When I get home, I need to quickly share my artsy thoughts on Twitter!

× × ×

After the graduation ceremony, everyone had a brief class meeting, and then school was over.

Today is not only a day of farewell for graduates, but also for current students. Those who have joined clubs or know upperclassmen through other means hurriedly leave the classroom to say goodbye.

Hayama and the others who usually stayed in the classroom were nowhere to be seen, and Totsuka, the president of the tennis club, also left the classroom carrying a large suitcase.

In this way, since I have no connection with the senior students, I can simply go home.

The classroom was sparsely populated, and I quickly packed my things. Just then, Yui came to my seat.

"Should we go check out the student council? I heard that Senior Xun is there."

"Um... I wanted to say hello to her..."

Today is probably the last time I'll see Senior Xun. I've received a lot of help from her, so I should say goodbye to her to avoid being impolite.

But I just had a good cry, and I'm a little embarrassed to see her. Are you sure you're okay? Are my eyes swollen? Ugh, I don't want to see Senior Xun with this face… I need to do what that toner commercial for third-year working women does: sit on the floor with my back against the refrigerator, press my eyes with an ice spoon, and mutter to myself, "I can't lose!"

While I was hesitating, Yuihama, probably not understanding why I was silent, tilted her head in confusion.

"What's wrong?"

"No, it's nothing. Nothing's wrong. Let's go."

To describe the girlish heart that's about to short-circuit in a young girl's mind is simply to make matters worse. I decisively ended the conversation, grabbed my coat and backpack, got up, and walked out.

Yuihama was completely confused, but she still jogged to catch up.

But as we left the classroom, she seemed to realize why I hesitated, walked around to face me, and stared into my eyes.

"Ah—I know. You were crying so hard just now, it was so funny. Were you shy?"

Yuihama suppressed a laugh and teased me a bit. Under her older sister-like gaze, I felt displeased and embarrassed, and instantly fell silent.

"No, I'm not shy at all."

I said this a little impatiently, trying to hide my embarrassment. This attitude made Yui chuckle.

"Yumiko cried too, and then she got so shy. So cute..."

Yuihama seemed to be recalling that image, smiling contentedly. Ah, I see. No wonder Ms. Miura was in such a hurry to go home. She felt embarrassed too. That guy was so cute…

I can understand why she couldn't hold back her tears, because I was almost the same way... Thinking of this, words that sounded like an explanation just slipped out of my mouth.

"Any normal person would cry, right? I think about how clumsy she was and how much she struggled to think of her speech. Didn't you think she tried her best? The most important thing is Megumi-senpai. She tried hard to maintain a smile at the beginning, but she still couldn't help but cry. And then there was that smile after she finished speaking. More importantly, the part where she shouted the slogan with everyone at the end was definitely an impromptu performance. That part was really touching."

"You're getting too worked up! How disgusting, how horrible, get away..."

Your reaction is understandable. Otaku (anime/manga enthusiast) constantly talk about improvisation, and you get all emotional over it. Even if it's just following a script, they call it improvisation. It seems otaku are quite suited to watching wrestling matches. This shows that otaku and wrestling get along very well, so Bushido (the code of conduct) is truly powerful (note). That "fight until you win" spirit is impressive. This is arguably one of the most valuable qualities for companies holding intellectual property.

Note: A Japanese company primarily engaged in the production and sale of card games acquired New Nippon Pro Wrestling Co., Ltd. in 2012.

I could easily find all sorts of excuses to refute this. However, there is actually a more effective argument.

"...Didn't you cry yourself?"

I looked at Yuihama with dead fish eyes, and she immediately pouted.

"Ugh... because Yumiko cried. Plus, we're going to be divided into different classes soon, and the thought of graduating so quickly made me cry too."

Yui Hama brushed it off with a shy smile. However, she immediately turned her flushed face away, pouted, and muttered:

"...Don't stare at someone when they're crying."

"The same to you……"

We bickered as we walked down the stairs. Suddenly, the place became much more crowded.

The third-grade classrooms are located on the first and second floors of the main school building, so the corridors are full of students chatting and taking pictures.

After taking photos side by side, they didn't immediately disperse. Instead, they started a conversation and continued chatting. Whether they were genuinely reluctant to part or simply socially awkward individuals who missed their chance to leave, it's unclear; in any case, those people probably won't be able to leave anytime soon.

We weaved past graduating students as we walked down the corridor. Along the way, we encountered a group of people wearing corsages, clutching their graduation yearbooks tightly to their chests. They were probably looking for autographs to fill in the last blank pages.

As she brushed past them, Yuihama murmured:

"I'm sure I'll cry a lot next year."

This was probably her talking to herself. I responded with a meaningless, sigh-like "oh" or "um".

By this time next year, Yuihama will probably be crying her eyes out too. She'll definitely be with Miura and Ebina, holding hands and whispering sweet nothings as they part.

The reason she cried today was probably not just because she was affected by the atmosphere of the graduation ceremony, or because she projected herself onto the scene before her and imagined the road she would take in the future.

Instead, they shed tears for a farewell that is more real, more personal, and closer than that.

We left Class 2F's classroom a little earlier. The chances of going in and out through that door were numbered.

The monotonous classrooms, the aimless lunch breaks, and the ordinary after-school scenes will all disappear in the near future. Even when students enter the third grade, they will still see similar scenes, but the faces will no longer be the same.

Miura definitely has a strong attachment to her current class. Hayama Hayato's presence goes without saying, and the relationships she's built with her friends are invaluable. Moreover, her past conflict with Yui Hama probably deepens their bond even further. The same goes for Yui Hama.

So, what about me?

It's just a class reassignment—I wasn't entirely unaware of that thought. Before this, I never felt emotional about such things. I didn't intentionally maintain contact with people or try to shorten or maintain the distance after we parted ways. After graduating from junior high, the only classmate I saw was Orimoto Kaori, and even that was by chance.

It's natural for relationships to drift apart after people stop seeing each other. New encounters can bridge that gap. Humans are always quick to adapt to changes in their environment.

We met, became acquainted, parted ways again, and wished each other well and goodbye.

We are always on the path of saying goodbye.

Class placement and graduation ceremonies may be occasions for us to learn how to say goodbye properly. By setting a pre-determined timeframe, disregarding everyone's feelings, a farewell that cannot be refused is created. This kind of intimate design allows even those with severe social anxiety to say goodbye decisively, and even provides perfectly legitimate reasons such as "because we've graduated" or "because we've been placed in different classes," as an excuse for never seeing each other again.

I've experienced several minor partings, so I'd call myself a farewell expert. My farewell technique is so refined that I don't need to say a single word to clean up the relationship cleanly, the process so natural that the other person doesn't even notice. That's professionalism. A farewell so swift and decisive, probably only I can see it. I've become accustomed to living in stealth. (Note)

Note: Both sentences are adapted from lines in "Hunter x Hunter".

So, in other words—

I have never properly said goodbye to anyone.

My farewells are always memorable. For example, when I was working, I would just leave without saying goodbye, then send the uniform back without hesitation, making sure the recipient paid for the shipping. What should I say to the senior student afterward...? While I was still racking my brains, we arrived at the student council's entrance.

I was a little nervous as I knocked on the student council's door.