My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong As Expected

Page 751

Since she and I were staring at the gift, he quietly looked away.

"...Well, the cup is a return gift."

Then he mumbled something at an incredibly fast pace.

"It's weird to take something from someone and not give them a gift in return, plus the timing is quite right, although it doesn't sound very nice to say it was given casually... Anyway, it's a Christmas present."

He drew his own conclusion and nodded repeatedly, but I could only hear the beginning clearly. The rest of his sentences were mumbled and I couldn't understand them at all.

However, he was quite shy, which was very obvious. We looked at each other and smiled slightly.

"...May I open it and take a look?"

"Hmm, oh."

She asked, puzzled, but he kept looking to the side and gave an ambiguous response.

We were already used to his way of expressing himself, so we untied the ribbon without hesitation. We knew that the wrapping paper and ribbon were also important gifts, so we took our time to carefully and slowly unwrap them.

Upon seeing the gift in our hands, we both gasped softly.

"Wow……"

"It's a hair tie..."

Her voice carried a hint of laughter, and he breathed a sigh of relief, as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Maybe she was worried about our reaction. Why worry about that?

I gripped the hair tie tightly in my palm.

The light-colored hair tie is soft and fluffy, as soft as snowflakes, giving off a warm feeling.

I was a little curious, so I glanced to the side. She was holding her hair tie with both hands, just like she would when she held a small bird, chick, or hamster. The hair tie in her hands was the same style as mine.

"My Yukino and I are a couple!"

Hearing me say that, she glanced at my hair tie and nodded. However, she immediately tilted her head slightly in confusion.

"Yuigahama's is blue, and mine is pink?... I feel like they're reversed."

It's not very bright in this dark place, and it's not good to stare at other people's gifts, so I only glanced at it just now. Upon closer inspection, the colors are indeed different.

So, I mostly chose pink tones, while she mostly chose monochrome or cool colors.

...Could he have delivered it to the wrong person?

The question flashed through my mind instantly, but it was impossible.

He's the type who prepares extremely carefully for things like this, even calculating the timing and method of giving the gift—the kind of person who's a bit disgusting. It wouldn't be surprising if he practiced beforehand how to give the gift in a cool way. No, it's strange. And it's not cool at all.

Therefore, I know he must have his own reasons.

"I think it's fine..."

He did not explain why.

But I think I can vaguely understand it.

Although it was only faintly visible.

Explaining it in detail would only confuse people. It's very similar to my relationship with her, and our relationship.

She must understand too.

"yes……"

She didn't press further, but simply said this calmly, raising her gaze from the hair tie in her hand and revealing a gentle smile.

"Since it's a gift, I'll accept it gratefully."

"Yes, autistic guy... thank you. I will cherish it."

I clearly said what I had missed the chance to say earlier, and clutched the hair tie tightly, expressing my gratitude in a way that surpasses words.

"Well, how you use it is up to you..."

He spoke quickly, as if trying to hide his shyness, and silently looked away. I was also a little embarrassed, and secretly turned my head away, fiddling with the bun on my head.

He caught a glimpse of the traffic light turning green out of the corner of his eye. He raised his hand, seemingly taking this as an opportunity to say goodbye.

"Then, I'm leaving."

"Okay, goodbye! ...Goodnight."

We nodded to each other and quietly stepped out.

However, due to a mix of emotions such as joy and shyness, I unconsciously quickened my pace. Even the soles of my feet felt soft and yielding, just like the hair tie in my hand.

The cool December night breeze felt nice on my slightly flushed cheeks.

A gust of wind lifted my scarf, and her long black hair, which was walking beside me, fluttered in the wind. Her glossy black hair was bright enough to reflect the light of the streetlights, and it instantly scattered in the air.

She pressed her hair down and stopped walking.

She gently combed her hair with her slender fingers, looked at the hair tie she held tightly in her hand, and shyly pursed her lips.

Then she tidied her long hair. Perhaps because she was a little flustered, her movements were more casual and clumsy than usual.

Finally, she used the hair tie in her hand to tie her hair into a bunch, fiddling with the ends of her hair two or three times, as if worried that she hadn't tied it properly.

I was so captivated by her appearance that I couldn't help but stare at her intently.

Under the flashing traffic lights that resembled decorative lamps, her expression, which seemed both troubled and shy, was the cutest I'd ever seen, perfectly complementing that pale pink hue.

She touched the corner of her mouth, probably bothered that the blush on her face was clearly visible even under the orange streetlights.

Then, she closed her eyes, exhaled gently to calm herself down, and turned around.

"Hikigaya-san."

Her tone was as usual.

Mature, calm, resolute, and clear-headed.

However, she made many preparations to call him in a normal tone.

I find this behavior cute and endearing, making me smile and unconsciously stare at her.

Her voice was not loud, but in the quiet night when there were no other pedestrians, it seemed enough.

He slowly turned his head and saw her standing in the middle of the zebra crossing, which startled him.

When their eyes met, she gently touched her hair, which was tied in a ponytail. The pink hair tie swayed, and his gaze followed it.

She stopped touching her hair and took a quiet breath.

"……Merry Christmas."

She placed her hands on her chest, seemingly troubled about whether to raise or lower them, her half-open palm gently waving from side to side.

Goodnight, thank you, goodbye—she used this one sentence instead of these words.

"Oh, oh... Merry Christmas."

He stood there stunned for a moment, then suddenly came to his senses, immediately tucked his chin in, and nodded two or three times.

He didn't say much, but she smiled slightly and walked back quickly, as if no other words were needed.

Even though there was no cold wind blowing, she still pulled her scarf to her mouth to cover her cheeks.

After she crossed the road, the flashing green light turned red.

Almost unconsciously, I had the same mundane conversation with her: "Sorry to keep you waiting" and "No problem," while looking across the zebra crossing where there was no turning back.

He stood there lazily and idly, as if gazing, watching, or witnessing.

I'm starting to regret it. Should I have said something too?

The other side of the zebra crossing isn't far from here; if you speak loudly, your voice will definitely reach you.

However, I couldn't think of anything more suitable to say at the moment.

So I raised my hand and waved it vigorously, even though the light blue on my wrist might blend into the darkness and be hard to see.

Seeing him nod slightly in response, she and I walked forward together.

The December night wind was indeed very cold, bringing a stinging pain.

Without realizing it, I shrank back and gripped the hair tie on my left hand tightly.

× × ×

I realized it by accident.

To realize something that I realized a long, long time ago.

Maybe that's true.

That's about right.

I clearly had this thought a long time ago, and I clearly knew it all along.

I realized that I had never asked, never spoken, never confirmed, and never given up.

Once you realize it, you can no longer pretend to be ignorant.

There's no turning back, no moving forward. And there's no ignoring the reality.

However, I've already realized it.

—I've liked it for a long, long time.

End 1 Yui's story 1 And so, Hachiman Hikigaya's winter vacation began.

With Christmas over and the winter break, which is by no means long, the atmosphere of the year finally coming to an end is palpable.

No, to be precise, it originally existed deep within our consciousness, but we ignored it because we were too busy.

I'm not just talking about the sense of seasons, but also about my own state of mind.

It's like letting time slip by without facing the things you absolutely have to face.

I had just woken up and was lying in bed staring at the wall, where this year's calendar, which I had been agonizing over whether to turn the page to, was still partially torn off.

The three characters for "December," swaying listlessly, inexplicably induce a sense of unease.

Perhaps that's why, in that half-dreaming, half-awake state, meaningless thoughts kept popping into my head and then disappearing, repeating this cycle, just like that yo-yo master using my super brain [Note] to perform an aerial spin. I might even end up like a thunderbolt, going back and forth in a place with no exit.

Note: This refers to the name of a yo-yo.

Thankfully, it's a holiday today. Trying to solve a problem with no right answer, like a Zen master, isn't something I usually do in the mornings.

My mind and body seemed to clearly realize that I was on vacation. I took two naps and finally woke up around noon.

I shook my groggy head and slowly got out of bed.

What comes into view is the room that I gave up cleaning last night.

The books I've finished reading are piled up like mountains, and the MAX coffees I've drunk reach the sky.

With a busy life colliding with all sorts of things at the end of the year and the end of the semester, it wouldn't be surprising if your desk collapsed at any time.

I'd better clean things up properly today...

I made a vow to myself that I would first clean my desk, and while I was at it, organize my notes, handouts, and all the diaries, jottings, memos, and random scribbles I had written at some point.

Simple memos are sent to the paper recycling center; notebooks containing somewhat troublesome personal information (mainly dark history) are torn to shreds and thrown away; and jottings that are entirely dark history and could cause mental breakdowns for those who see them, like the Necronomicon, are sealed deep in the drawer.

After all, it wouldn't be good to just throw it away... This kind of stuff I wrote during my adolescence might come in handy when I become a novelist someday... Just thinking about it is already a dark chapter in my history. Another page in my dark history...

Okay, let's put all the embarrassing moments away now~ [Note]. While I was organizing, I also tore off the half-finished calendar and threw it in the trash.

Note: This is a parody of the famous line from the character "Uncle Locking the Door" in the anime "Warm Diary": "Alright, let's put all of ○○'s children away~".

There are only a few days left in the year, so there's no need to use a calendar anymore.

I was thinking of trying to do a thorough year-end cleaning occasionally, but organizing my always-messy desk is just too tiring. Because when I use my desk, I always just push things aside to make room where I need to…

People often perceive Type A individuals as meticulous and fond of organizing things, but frankly, that's not the case.

Type A people are less concerned about their own rooms than you might imagine. Conversely, they'll be extremely bothered by other people's messy rooms and will immediately ask if the other person could tidy up their room. Type A people are so annoying!

That being said, I'm also a type A person. I used to often run into Komachi's room and say, "Okay, let's put away all the kids who can't tidy their rooms~" She hated me for it.

We used to frequently go into each other's rooms and take each other's comics without permission. Why does my sister think her brother's comics are hers...? Even though Komachi started buying *Inuyasha*, from the later volumes onwards, it became me buying them. Yeah, that's common between siblings.

But looking back now, the shoujo manga like *Ciao* and *Shonen Manga* [Note] that I borrowed from Komachi's room definitely helped my girlish heart—in short, the budding of my girlish spirit. Also, I used my sister as an excuse to watch shoujo anime, and before I knew it, only the brother hadn't been able to quit, leaving his sister behind. This is a common thing between siblings. I think so!

Note: All are girls' comic magazines.