Source
https://kakuyomu.jp/works/16818093094101424177/episodes/16818622176152957544
And then a few days later—the day of the festival.
“Kasugai kun, let’s go to the festival.”
“I’m not going. I have no reason to go.”
“I don’t really get it, but let’s go!”
That proposal was armed with the three letters: unreasonable. I couldn’t make heads or tails of it.
The sudden disappearance of the book.
If it were to solve that, I could understand, but it’s no reason to tag along to a mere festival.
“Festivals are just hot and stuffy.”
“Ehh~, I’m sure it’ll be fun! They’ll have yakitori and karaage, and stalls too!”
“Expensive. ….Planning to mooch off me?”
“N-no way~. …Ehehe.”
Frankly, this guy comes over to my place way too often.
Setting aside the fact he lived surprisingly close, the sheer number of visits was beyond normal.
“—Um, well…”
After several exchanges, Orimoto slowly formed her words, pressing the pads of her index fingers together.
“Well, you see…there’s actually another reason I wanted you to come along, Kasugai kun…”
I raised my eyebrows.
Seems she had ulterior motives.
“Do you remember this?”
“…Ah, the gift for Sera.”
“Right. It’s a towel I made myself…but—”
“But?”
She pulled out a black towel. The one she’d handmade for Sera. It looked mass-produced.
It was the sort of thing that showed her skill.
Orimoto said, looking troubled.
“I wanted you to create an opportunity to give it to him. Today’s his birthday.”
I see, so that’s it.
Orimoto had apparently tried to figure out a way herself, but ultimately decided it was too hard to manage alone.
The task fell to me.
“There’s always someone around Sera. …..Can’t exactly slip it in his mailbox, can I?”
“Even if he doesn’t remember you?”
Orimoto stared intently at me.
“I want to give it to him, no matter what.”
Turns out today is Sera’s birthday. Coinciding with the summer festival. Convenient timing, I suppose…
Well then—anyway.
Today’s mission.
Peel away the people surrounding Sera Keiichi so Orimoto Ryoka can deliver his birthday present.
(…Nah, I don’t think I can do this…!)
It’s unrelated to the disappearance case.
But it feels too late to go off on a tangent now.
I prepared to go out, resignation weighing heavy in my chest.
─────
In the end, I ended up tagging along to help deliver Orimoto’s present. Good job enduring the heat, me.
She probably wouldn’t have gone home otherwise.
Walking the approach path, pushed along by the crowd.
Stalls lining both sides.
The faint, slightly burnt scent of soy sauce.
Children in yukata ran about, while festival music—flutes and drums—vibrated through the air.
“Hey, look, Kasugai kun! Goldfish scooping!”
Orimoto’s eyes darted around excitedly, reacting to each stall.
“You haven’t forgotten why we’re here, have you?”
“Of course not! Keiichi and the others should be here soon. Then, Kasugai kun, I’ll leave it to you.”
“…Well, I’ll do what I can.”
Apparently, Sera was building a harem with people like Michikusa and the hairpin-wearing senior before showing up. Research complete.
That’s the observational eye of a childhood friend, even if it’s rotten.
“──Cotton candy is sooo good…!”
“You’ve got it on your cheek. You look like an idiot.”
“Nwaa! So embarrassing!”
Playing the shooting gallery with cotton candy in one hand.
“Yakisoba, here I come!”
“You…better be ready for this.”
Having the yakisoba snatched away.
What the hell is this infuriating girl thinking?
She’s a demon taking everything from me.
Needless to say, such cliché romantic comedy developments never happened.
Me and Orimoto are just—just?
(Partners are a hassle, and I don’t acknowledge her as a friend. Am I just putting up with her out of pity?)
—Just, time passed.
As the sun set, the air grew slightly cooler.
Deep within the shrine grounds, a crowd gathered atop the stone steps, waiting for the fireworks. From here, the view was unobstructed.
“…There you are, Kasugai kun.”
“Just call out to me, right?”
“Mm. Then move over to the woods beside us.”
Orimoto climbed ahead and sat down in a corner of the shrine grounds. But the next moment, her expression changed.
Her eyes and tone showed resolve.
A handmade towel in his palm.
Was the trembling just an illusion in the dim light? …I’ll do what I can.
She really is a woman who pushes people hard.
“Hey, Sera.”
The conclusion: it would be easier to pull Sera himself out than to peel him away from the crowd.
Sera Keiichi was wearing a yukata.
He was the kind of protagonist who looked good in anything.
His refreshing features remained undimmed even as dusk fell. An infuriatingly handsome guy.
“Kasugai kun?”
Sera blinked, stopping in his tracks. Around him were people lingering on the path and senior with the hairpin. Just as expected.
Behind him, Orimoto was nodding vigorously.
Do it well, that’s what it meant.
“Ah, sorry for stopping you like this.”
“No, that’s fine. So you came to the festival too, Kasugai kun? Are you with someone?”
“Well, kinda. Now’s a good time?”
I lowered my voice and added, “It’s about Orimoto.” …Sera narrowed his eyes for a moment and nodded.
Then, Michikusa, who had been silent, gently opened her mouth. Her innocent expression was business as usual.
But she also looked a little lonely.
“Kasugai, you need to talk to Keiichi about something?”
“Yeah, Michikusa. I’ll borrow him for a bit.”
“…It’s fine. Oh, come back before the fireworks, Keiichi. I want to watch them together.”
Serra and I slipped out of the crowd and headed toward the nearby woods.
So far, everything was going according to plan. Now then.
“So, about Orimoto san?”
“──My phone. Someone’s calling. I’ll be right back.”
“Ah, ah. …Come back, okay?”
“I know, I know. Sorry about this.”
I pretended to take a call that wasn’t even ringing, holding my phone to my ear with clumsy acting.
“Kasugai kun, I’ll try my best.”
“Who cares? My job ends here.”
Sweeping past us was Orimoto Ryoka.
Her chestnut-brown hair swayed softly.
“Ah—ah—Keiichi…can you hear me? Maybe you can’t. I’m right here, though.”
Oritomo asked in a testing tone.
“First off, Keiichi, happy birthday.”
There was no sign of reaction to her voice. Sera just fidgeted with his phone, bored.
But Oritomo persisted, undeterred.
“I know you can’t see me. Probably can’t see this towel either. I know.”
He glanced over. A small back.
Orimoto gently pushed the black towel, clutched tightly, toward Sera—trembling inside.
Sera, offered the towel, remained indifferent.
“I like you. Even if you rejected me, I still like you. I guess I just can’t let go that easily~”
A laugh mixed with a sigh mingled with the crowd’s clamor, yet it definitely rang out. It definitely rang out.
“If I got rejected, I’d be invisible to everyone. And I’d still be wearing my uniform. Seriously.”
Should I have listened?
Was I not supposed to listen?
I’m aware I’m unfriendly.
But I’m not so rotten I’d laugh at someone for being pathetic. I can’t do anything, but I won’t belittle them either.
“If I did something wrong, I’ll apologize. I’m sorry.”
First, an apology in a gentle tone.
“I don’t even know how this happened.”
A wry smile.
“I don’t know how to fix it either.”
A sigh.
“…I don’t know what’ll happen from here. …It’s scary, like I might just vanish.”
Orimoto just desperately asked.
She stared intently at Sera and asked.
If miracles exist, then so be it.
“…?”
Sera suddenly lifted her face.
She scanned the surroundings as if searching for something. Our eyes met once, but she quickly looked away.
(…Whoa, wait a minute? Seriously?)
Is it okay to be so convenient?
If that’s possible, I couldn’t ask for more.
My role is done, and Orimoto is saved.
“Keiichi, I’m here! I’m—”
The fanfare erupted. A tremendous sound.
Sera put away her phone—and smiled.
She smiled toward the direction behind Orimoto.
“Keiichi, you were here?”
“Sorry, sorry. A classmate called me. Kasugai kun, how long are you gonna keep talking on the phone?”
“The fireworks are about to start.”
Sera gave me a light bow.
Like a gesture marking the time limit.
Checking my phone, I saw the fireworks would bloom across the night sky in just a few minutes.
—Orimoto, reality thrust upon her mid-sentence.
—Sera, oblivious to Orimoto, heading off to see the fireworks.
—Me, observing it all.
Oritomo, her steps unsteady and uncertain.
She murmurs weakly toward me.
“Kasugai kun.”
Her face crumples.
That distortion expresses her emotions, and once again, I can’t find the right words.
“Kasugai kun.”
Oritomo takes shallow breaths.
As if enduring. As if struggling.
“It didn’t work out.”
“…Yeah, looks like it.”
“I couldn’t give him my birthday present. For a second, I thought he might have noticed me.”
“…I can’t say anything about that.”
At my blunt reply, Orimoto smiled softly, her hair melting as she did so.
“It’s okay, I wasn’t expecting anything.”
She kicked the ground roughly.
A beautiful girl in uniform at the festival grounds.
It felt somehow unreal.
“Hey, Kasugai kun. Is it okay if I cry?”
Orimoto spread her arms wide.
I pretended not to notice the faint glisten of tears. Pointing it out would be too mean.
“Did I do something wrong?”
Orimoto spoke.
“I’ve lived my life seriously, you know?”
Orimoto spoke.
“Am I alive? I’m here!”
Orimoto speaks.
Orimoto speaks.
Speaks. Speaks.
It resembled that day when she poured her heart out on the blackboard. Is there anything I can do?
I’m listening. I’m lending an ear.
“Kasugai kun, I…it’s still hard.”
“I’m working to fix it, right?”
“…When will it be fixed?”
Answering that pure question is impossible.
Vague expectations only hurt more.
“──!”
Orimoto gasps.
The wind is that strong.
Flying away, blending into the night’s darkness, is the towel Orimoto made for Sera.
“──Wait here!”
“Kasugai kun?!”
Ignoring Orimoto’s shock.
“T-that way’s dangerous?!”
Orimoto’s concern fell on my back.
I chased after the towel blown away by the wind. Fortunately, the wind was blowing toward the back of the temple grounds.
There was only thicket and cliff there.
But I didn’t want it to get dirty.
Maybe I should have comforted Orimoto instead of chasing the towel. But that towel was important too.
It was something I’d spent time making.
I could just go get it and come right back.
If it got covered in dirt and weeds, washing it wouldn’t get it clean. …Who am I trying to convince?
(What the hell am I doing?)
Impulse.
I wasn’t supposed to do stuff like this.
It doesn’t suit me, it’s lame, it’s creepy. I feel like I’m not myself.
In the first place—is this even the script?
What the hell is a scenario? ──I don’t have time to think about “I”! It’s already done!
I tell myself as I move my feet.
“Reach it, damn it.”
The wind stops, and I reach for the falling towel.
My fingertips touch the fabric, and I pull it toward me.
My hands are actually on the larger side, you know.
“Ah————–shit.”
The sound of fireworks.
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