I Chose the Plain Girl Instead of the Class’s Top Three Beauties, and Somehow She Became the Heroine - 26

Chapter 26: The Thank You I Couldn’t Say

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《Hiroko Anno’s POV》

The glass of the entranceway was clouded whitish by the morning light, and every time someone opened or closed it, the air switched out. A cold breeze brushed the nape of my neck, and I reflexively pinched the cuff of my cardigan. At my fingertips were my glasses. They had fogged up, so I wiped them.

“Good morning, Anno‑san.”

The voice that fell onto my back rang out my name more correctly than any other sound. I turned around. Still holding my glasses in my hand. Mukei‑kun was there. At that moment, my body twitched. I had expected it, yet he was much closer than I had imagined. The world without frames in my vision felt a little unreliable, his outline more vivid than usual, and I had no escape route.

“…G‑Good morning. Mukei‑kun, what’s wrong?”

My voice broke. But he, in his usual calm tone, narrowed his eyes just for a beat.

“N-no, it’s nothing. I was just surprised because it’s the first time I’ve seen you without your glasses.”

“Ah! I’m sorry!”

“Why are you apologizing? I think you look really beautiful.”

“Eh!?”

“Yeah. You’ve been changing little by little, so maybe someday, an Anno-san without glasses would be nice too.”

Beautiful. He said it again. My body temperature rose before my thoughts could catch up. The inside of my cheeks warmed, and the temple of the glasses I was holding became slightly damp with sweat. I waited for him to continue speaking, but he didn’t add anything more. He didn’t bring up about “that time.”

He simply looked at me in this moment and said that. All I could do was nod before passing by him. The morning hallway’s bustle returned, and the smell of chalk dust tickled my nose. During the few dozen steps to the classroom, my footsteps felt like they echoed louder than anyone else’s.

…Did he not remember? That day. A small voice spoke inside my chest. The night my big sister helped me with makeup, the night when a scary man tried to drag me into an alley and he saved me. But to Mukei‑kun…. Maybe it had been “the usual.” If someone was in trouble, he just helped them like it was the most natural thing to do in his world.

That was his “ordinary,” not the kind of event worth making a note of. Would it be weird to thank him now? I sat down and placed my pencil case on the desk. My throat tightened, and the uncertainty in my chest melted and hardened again.

I want to say it. I want to say thank you.

But several days had passed since that day. It was too late, maybe too heavy. Maybe a bother.

Each excuse tangled and closed up my throat. I clasped my fingers on top of the desk, took a deep breath, and somehow the morning classes passed.

During break time, Akira‑kun’s voice flew from the row in front, layered over Miura‑san’s laughter. As Hino‑san walked by, she talked about basketball, and I could even imagine the bouncing sound of the ball. The classroom carried the usual atmosphere. But only inside my chest, the words “too late now” sat heavily in my heart.

When the lunch bell rang, I pinched the little rabbit ribbon and stood up. Under the camphor tree. Half sun, half shade. Our usual bench. Today, I told myself I would say it. Just like the day I practiced saying “I was happy about the card,” this time I practiced “thank you.”

『That day at the station…Thank you. Because you saved me, I was able to decide to change.

』

I rolled the words around in my mouth again and again, softening the edges. Sitting on the bench, resting my tote on my lap, adjusting my pins. The wind rustled the leaves. The stones at my feet were striped in sun and shadow. The midday light broke into small pieces through the camphor branches, dyeing the bench in a mottled pattern. I turned over the words I had practiced so many times since last night.

『I was happy about the card… I was happy about the card…』

I didn’t yet have the courage to speak them aloud, so I only shaped the words silently with my lips. My throat tensed, and my breath grew slightly shallow. I stroked the rabbit keychain. The small feel of the ribbon gave me courage.

Footsteps.

Before I turned, the air shifted. When Mukei‑kun approached, for some reason a clear breeze slid into my chest—different from the classroom, different from the hallway.

“Did I keep you waiting?”

“N‑No!”

My answer came too fast, making my voice crack. But Mukei‑kun didn’t seem to mind, and he relaxed his eyes softly as usual before sitting beside me on the bench. I took a deep breath. I decided in my heart I would say it now.

“Um…”

“Yeah?”

He looked at me. His honest gaze was so straight that it made my back stiffen.

“Y‑Yesterday’s card… I was really happy.”

I said it. My ears heated up. But Mukei‑kun narrowed his eyes and nodded lightly.

“I’m glad. I was a little worried about whether it’d suit you.”

Just that was enough to let something warm spread through my chest. It felt like the early spring sunlight was brushing my back, and I could breathe deeply again.

“And also…”

To my own surprise, more words followed.

“It made me feel… Really warm inside. Like… You thought about me.”

Mukei‑kun opened his eyes a little, then smiled as if in shy deflection.

“If Anno‑san feels that way, then I’m glad I wrote it. Your sticky note made me happy too.”

That smile sent a quiet jolt through my chest. I really wanted to tell him about that day, too. The night a scary man grabbed my arm in the alley, when my legs froze and my voice wouldn’t come out… When he saved me. I wanted to give him that “thank you.” But the words stopped at my throat. It was too late now, and it was probably just normal for him. If I said it now, it might feel too heavy.

So today, just the “thank you” for the card was enough. Even so, the inside of my chest felt much brighter than before. The me who wrote tiny letters on the edge of the page last night gave me a push on the back. The book we exchanged wasn’t just paper and ink. Onto it, I placed a little courage and a little happiness, and handed it to him.

“I’m looking forward to your thoughts.”

My voice trembled a little. But Mukei‑kun accepted it properly.

“Me too. I always look forward to reading your words, Anno‑san.”

The chime blended into the afternoon schoolyard. Inside my chest, the certainty of “I said it” quietly coexisted with the “thank you” I still hadn’t said.

…Someday, I hope I can say it. About that day too.

But for now, this happiness was enough. Because spending lunchtime with Mukei‑kun brought another new light to my day.

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