Chapter 6

“Hey, you know, are you misunderstanding something? I was just chatting, like, ‘Ugh, tests are such a drag,’ or, ‘Isn’t that person so annoying?’ and saying whatever I felt like. And those guys? They just nodded along without arguing and listened to everything I said. They kept calling me cute, pretty, praising and affirming me all the time. Whenever something upset me or annoyed me, I’d call a meeting, vent, and relieve my stress like that. The money? They gave it to me themselves, joking about it being a ‘real-life super chat.’ That’s how we built a harmonious relationship. Do you know why things suddenly turned out like that?”

There was no way I could understand that. She said it all in one breath, and I was too busy trying to make sense of it. 

Her wide-open eyes stared at me as I tilted my head.

“Yeah, no idea.”

“Because they thought it wouldn’t last long after you found us. They figured it’d all fall apart soon anyway, so they wanted to do something crazy before it ended.”

“Wow, yeah, I definitely misunderstood. This is a messed-up story, just in a different way.”

“So, are you going to take responsibility?”

“Huh? Me?”

“Yeah. How am I supposed to relieve my stress now?”

I was about to respond with, I don’t care, but then she leaned in so close that I instinctively leaned back. She was so near that her lips might touch mine if I wasn’t careful. Her eyes held an intense, almost unreadable gaze. It was hard to believe this was the same girl who had been crying moments ago. 

“Seriously, I feel like crying too. If they report me for using violence or something, I might actually get expelled this time.”

“This time?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve got a record.”

“A record?”

“You know, the fire extinguisher incident.”

“What’s that?”

“Wait, you really didn’t know about it?”

“I didn’t. What happened?”

“Didn’t we talk about this yesterday in front of the staffroom?”

“I don’t remember.”

She probably doesn’t bother remembering her conversations with random people. 

“You didn’t even try to say, What are you doing? or something. You just started attacking right away.”

“My family is more of a fists more and words less type. Can’t help it.”

“But the way he ran off was pretty funny.”

When she smiled just a bit, I felt a sense of relief and let out a small sigh.

“Whatever, just learn your lesson and quit this kind of stuff.”

“Don’t need you to tell me. I’m done with it anyway. I’ll just post all their pictures online.”

“That’s terrifying.”

She laughed and stood up. 

Just then, a female student came briskly down the stairs and locked eyes with us for a moment before quickly passing by and continuing down. It was a bit awkward.

“Well, I’m heading home.”

“Wait a second, are you seriously planning to just leave me here?”

“I am, why?”

“I’m scared to go home alone, though.”

Her tone, however, was anything but frightened. 

“I don’t think you’ll get attacked again… but why not call your parents to pick you up?”

“I can’t call them for something like this. They’re not nearby anyway, and they’re working.”

“And what exactly do you want me to do?”

“Normally, you’d kindly escort me home in this kind of situation.”

“Fine, fine, I get it.”

After resting a bit more on the edge of the staircase, we finally left the school building. I went ahead to the bike racks and brought my bike over. 

The school grounds were bathed in the orange hues of the setting sun, with various sports teams enjoying their youthful energy.

To avoid being seen by her fan club members, I made sure to steer clear of the grounds, sticking to the edge as much as possible. Meanwhile, the person in question trailed after me at a brisk pace, saying, “Wait, wait, you’re too fast.” She didn’t seem the least bit concerned about attracting attention. 

She said she’d walk to the train station and take a train home from there. I told her I’d part ways before reaching the station, but she shot back with a firm, “No.”

One of us was walking while the other had a bike, but since I had to push mine along, it was more tiring than just walking. I couldn’t exactly hop on and pedal away, leaving her behind, either.

“Slow down, you’re too fast.”

“At this pace, it’ll be sunset before I get home. Fine, I’ll run, and you can ride the bike.”

“No way.”

She was being way too demanding.

Eventually, we made it to the station at a brisk walking pace. I shoved my bike into the cluster of haphazardly parked ones, set the stand, and locked it up. Nearby, a faded sign read No Parking.

Inside the station, Miki Tachibana headed straight to the ticket machine. After buying a ticket, she handed it to me—two tickets for a round trip. It seemed I had no choice but to get on the train with her.

The station was already bustling with students, and adults in suits, signaling the start of rush hour.

We managed to board a train just as it arrived. Though the seats were mostly taken, we found a spot where the two of us could sit together.

When I sat down, Tachibana Miki immediately took the seat next to me. Despite the narrow space, she leaned noticeably closer, and our shoulders were faintly brushing against each other. 

Just before the train started moving, I asked her,  

“By the way, how’s your finger?”  

“It doesn’t hurt anymore. Seems like it’s fine.”  

Her gaze, which had been focused on her fingertip, shifted to meet mine. We ended up staring into each other’s eyes at close range.  

Her eyelids, slightly folded at the edges, blinked a few times. Her large, dark pupils didn’t waver, almost as if they were trying to peer into the depths of my mind.  

Perhaps aware of the attention we were drawing, she broke eye contact without saying anything further. Nobody around us was engaged in conversation either.  

As the train stopped at the next station, she softly said,  

“Hey, can I have your Line?”  

“Why are you asking all of a sudden?”  

“Does it matter?”  

“Didn’t I give it to you already?”  

“What? You did what now?”  

She mumbled something, but the sound of the moving train drowned it out. I was certain we had exchanged contacts yesterday—was she just forgetful?  

Urged by her expectant eyes, I took my phone out of my bag on my lap. Fortunately, it added her contact without any errors.  

“Hey, what’s with this ‘Seikishi’ thing?”  [‘Sei’ is probably taken from ‘Seigi’ meaning justice, ‘kishi’ = knight, so Knight of Justice]

She leaned in so close to my ear that her face nearly brushed against it as she asked. A chill ran down my spine, and I instinctively leaned the other way. Even if it was hard to hear over the noise, her sense of personal space was way off.  

I’d always thought you were supposed to register your real name on these apps. This was clearly a trap.  

By now, it felt too awkward to change my display name, so I’d just left it as it was. Refusing to engage with her teasing, I lowered my gaze to my phone. Her newly added contact showed the name “Yuki.”  

“What’s this? Another throwaway account?”  

When I muttered that, she looked at me, silently asking, “What?”  

Apparently, she hadn’t heard me over the train noise. Not wanting to repeat myself, I waved my hand dismissively and said, “It’s nothing.”  

But as I thought about it more, the name “Yuki” stood out. Tachibana Yuki.  

Could it be that her name wasn’t actually Miki Tachibana? Had I been mistaken this whole time? I’d only ever known her name from overhearing others.  

This account must be her main one, while “Mickey” was just a throwaway. Well, it doesn’t really matter.  [Mikki]

Either way, with the train packed and people pressing in around us, this wasn’t the time or place to dig into the details of her name.  

As I mulled it over, I started to feel drowsy. I don’t often take trains, but whenever I do, I always end up sleepy.  

“Hey, wake me up when we get there.”  

I leaned over and whispered to her. Whether her name was Miki or Yuki, she responded with a bashful “Yeah,” for some reason.  

I woke to a gentle shake on my shoulder.  

When I opened my eyes, I was momentarily startled. A stunningly beautiful face was right in front of me, leaving me confused for a second.  

“Come on, it’s time to get off.”  

She took my hand and pulled me up as the train came to a stop. I stepped out and glanced at the station name on a nearby pillar. Judging by the distance, we’d only been riding for about 10 or 20 minutes. I rarely took outbound trains, so this was my first time at this station.  

After passing through the ticket gate and stepping outside, I saw that the sun was starting to set. She was walking half a step ahead, but she turned her head back to face me, framed by the soft glow of the evening sky.  

“It’s close from here. I’ll be fine now.”  

Her voice sounded unusually calm, as if she’d transformed into a completely different person while I’d been asleep.  

This seemed to be where we parted ways. She probably thought it wasn’t a good idea for someone as unpredictable as me to know where she lived, which was a fair call.  

“Alright then. Take care.”  

“Yeah, thanks.”  

She gave a small wave and smiled. It felt like the first genuine smile I’d seen from her.  

As I watched her retreating figure, she turned around several times, each time waving at me. I waved back every time.  

If you just took this scene out of context, it might seem like something out of a high school romance story.  

Even the tired office workers spilling out of the station might be fooled by it.  

It’s a complete scam, though.  

Still, maybe I’m being fooled just as much.  

That picturesque idea of youth I’ve only seen from the sidelines—it might just be an illusion, a handpicked selection of convenient moments.  

Maybe it doesn’t really exist outside of movies, manga, and other fictional works.  

Even within those stories, most of the characters probably spend a majority of their time in dull, uneventful monotony.  

Thinking that way somehow made it easier to accept.  

(TL: Kishi-sama thinks deep thoughts huh)