Source
https://kakuyomu.jp/works/2912051603068864073
A temporary sales booth for the Handicraft Club had been set up in the second-floor hallway after school.
On a long table covered with white cloth, ribbon hair accessories, small drawstring pouches, and leather straps were arranged by color. It seemed they were setting out the items to be sold on the day of the cultural festival and taking promotional photos.
When Shiori and I went to return some leftover fabric, Mei, who was standing in front of the long table, turned to look at us right away.
Today, she had her school uniform collar neatly tucked in, with a red ribbon on the right side of her hair and a pale blue floral hair accessory on the left. Both looked great on the petite Mei, and I immediately understood why she’d been chosen as the promotional model.
“Senpai, you’re just in time. If we’re using this for a photo, which do you think looks better?”
Mei shook her hair from side to side and took a step closer to me. Aizawa and the other club members were standing nearby. It looked like they were discussing preparations for the cultural festival, but Mei’s eyes weren’t on the merchandise—she was waiting for my reaction.
“For a photo, I’d say the red one. The color will stand out against the white cloth in the background, and the shape will be easy to make out even from a distance.”
“For a photo, you say?”
Mei touched the red ribbon, still smiling.
“Which one suits me better?”
As I was thinking of a reply, Aizawa-san, still holding her camera, chimed in.
“Mei, we’re talking about deciding which one stands out best for the promotional photos right now, right? This isn’t a shoot where we’re asking Senpai for his personal preference, so let’s go with red.”
“I know that. I was just asking.”
Mei shrugged slightly, but her fingertips wavered a bit as she set aside only the red ribbon. Maybe she’d expected me to respond, as I had before, by saying it suited her or that she looked cute.
Shiori didn’t join in the exchange; instead, she was looking at the leather goods lined up at the end of the long table.
“Minato-kun, take a look at this.”
When she called me over, I went to her side and saw several long, narrow leather bookmarks lined up in a row. Dark brown, navy blue, deep green. They had a small leaf embossed on the edge and were designed to hold a book’s pages in place with a thin metal clasp.
“You had a receipt tucked into the book I lent you the other day, didn’t you?”
“You remembered that?”
“When you returned it, it was sticking out halfway. A receipt isn’t a bookmark, and if you drop it, you’ll lose your place in the book.”
Shiori picked up a dark brown bookmark and held it up against my school bag to check the color.
“This one goes well with your things, Minato-kun. I see them every day, so I know what colors suit you.”
She said it so casually that I was the one who looked away first.
“Then, I’ll take this one, Shiori.”
I picked up a navy blue one. It was a subdued color, very similar to the notebook Shiori uses.
“It’ll go well with her planner, and she can use it separately from the metal one she bought before. If they’re different colors, they’ll even match.”
Shiori’s hand paused.
Her reply, which usually came immediately, was a little delayed. Even though her ears were turning red, she didn’t put the navy blue bookmark she was holding back.
“I’d be really happy if I could have the same one. Can I pick up both of them on the day of the cultural festival?”
“You can reserve them.”
Aizawa-san replied, pulling a reservation slip from under the desk.
Just then, I heard the sound of wood scraping behind me.
The display shelf we’d temporarily set up was slowly tilting to one side. It seemed we’d left the fasteners undone while taking photos. Mei, who had been standing in front of the shelf, turned around and instinctively called out to me.
“Senpai—”
Shiori reached for the left side of the shelf first.
“Minato-kun, please take the other side. This isn’t something you should hold by yourself.”
I supported the right side, and the two of us worked together to return the shelf to its original position. Shiori didn’t just force it back; she carefully adjusted the angle little by little while checking the position of the legs.
“Aizawa-san, could you handle the lower fasteners? Onodera-san, please move the product boxes to the desk. The shelf will be lighter once it’s empty.”
Mei stood there for a moment, but when Aizawa-san called her name, she immediately picked up a box. She carried the box filled with small hair accessories herself and placed it in the center of the desk. With everyone working together, the shelf was stabilized in no time.
“That was a big help. I’m sorry it’s still just temporarily secured.”
As Aizawa-san bowed her head, Shiori let go of the shelf and checked my arm.
“Does it hurt?”
“I’m fine. You’re the one who should be careful, Shiori.”
“I’m fine, too. We carried it together.”
Hearing that reply, I felt a slight warmth deep in my chest.
Mei, still wearing her red ribbon, was watching us. Instead of leaving everything to me, Shiori supported the shelf herself and asked me to hold only the opposite side. Once we were done, we checked each other’s hands and arms.
Mei started to say something, but when Aizawa handed her the reservation slip and a pen, she silently returned to the long counter.
“I’ll write down the names for the reservation.”
Her voice was cheerful, though just a little softer than before.
Mei wrote “Minato Segawa” on the first slip and “Shiori Miyahara” on the second. She tied the slips to the dark brown and navy blue bookmarks, respectively, and placed them on the display shelf.
Shiori compared the two bookmarks and nodded slightly, looking satisfied.
“I’ll write the date I received them in my planner, too. It’s an important day—the day I get another one just like Minato-kun’s.”
“I won’t forget either. It’s the day of the cultural festival, after all.”
“Not forgetting something and keeping a record of it are two different things. I want to look back on this later and feel happy all over again.”
Shiori said that and gave my sleeve a light pinch. Since we were in public, it seemed to be her way of holding my hand.
After we returned the fabric and went back to the classroom, Mei was looking at the two reservation tags left on the display shelf.
Mei used her fingertip to straighten the “Shiori Miyahara” tag, which was tilted slightly. She adjusted it repeatedly until the two names were lined up at the same height, then removed the red ribbon and went back to preparing the next promotional photo.
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