When I Was Rejected and Returned Home, My Childhood Friend, Who Should Have Been Distant, Was in My Room

Chapter 10: You Got a Mail♪

Masaki Munechika and Manaki Himuro arrived at school normally. Since they were in different classes, they parted at the shoe lockers. It was still early, so only a few students were around.

Masaki’s shoe locker was on the top row. He looked up slightly, stretched his arm, and opened the locker labeled “Masaki Munechika.” He grabbed his indoor shoes by feel and pulled them out.

“…Huh?”

At that moment, his eyes caught something falling from the locker. A flat, white object dropped to the floor quickly.

He picked it up and saw “To Masaki Munechika” written in neat, round handwriting.

“What are you doing, Masamune? Let’s get to class,” Manaki calls.

Her voice came from the classroom side of the lockers. He quickly stuffed the letter into his pants pocket and put on his indoor shoes.

“Yeah, I’m coming!” he replied.

Keeping his tone casual, he walked quickly to Manaki, careful not to crease the letter.

The class was chemistry, continuing from last time, with the blackboard filled with Cs and Hs. He usually liked this subject, but his eyes slid over the board, unable to find meaning beyond the hexagon of a benzene ring.

He slipped his hand into his desk and discreetly took out the letter. It was addressed to him, but the sender was unknown.

If his thinking wasn’t arrogant, it was probably…

(A love letter, right…?)

He hadn’t looked inside yet, but he felt he wasn’t wrong. Or maybe it was a prank from a guy. If it was a prank, it was timed perfectly, whether they knew he’d just been rejected or not.

The problem was if it wasn’t a prank. Manaki’s face flashed in his mind. If it was a love letter, no matter who it was from, he couldn’t return their feelings.

He sighed softly and stared at the blank back of the envelope. The plain, undecorated envelope seemed to insist it wasn’t a prank.

The glue was still intact. Opening it would likely reveal the sender and clarify everything.

But opening it felt like it would set a story in motion, so he hesitated, unable to look inside.

“This section will be on the test. Class is over,” the teacher announced.

Crap! He looked at the blackboard, but it was already half-erased. This could be bad…

“Sorry, Shogo, can I see your notes from this class?” he asked.

“Sure, but it’s rare for you to zone out in chemistry, Masamune,” Shogo replied.

“Yeah, just a bit,” he said.

Brushing it off vaguely, he took the notes. Despite Shogo’s flashy demeanor, his notes were clear and well-organized.

“Thanks, I’ll copy them and give them back,” he said.

“No rush, next class ends at lunch,” Shogo replied.

“Oh, right…” he said.

Then it hit him. If the letter was a summons, it could be for lunch. It probably wasn’t for a short break, but lunch was plausible.

Realizing he might miss a promise while hesitating, a chill ran through him.

“Sorry, I’ll return it later…” he said.

“Uh, okay,” Shogo replied.

Trying not to seem panicked, he kept a calm expression, took the notes, and returned to his seat. After a moment, he acted like he was going to the bathroom, slipped the letter into his pocket, and left the classroom at a jog.

*****

Feeling a cool breeze, he sighed softly. A shout came from afar, but no one was around.

In conclusion, his hunch was half-right. He went to the rarely used experiment building’s top-floor landing and opened the letter. It had just one sentence:

It was written in the center of folded loose-leaf paper, ignoring the lines. He wondered if a name had been written and erased, but there were no traces of rewriting.

Checking his phone, the screen showed 4:18 p.m. Only the baseball and soccer teams’ voices came from behind the school; no one else was there. Time to go, maybe.

If it was a prank, calling him out and then ghosting him was pretty harsh. He thought pranks usually included a reveal, but apparently not. Was he completely fooled?

Despite thinking of trouble, part of him felt relieved.

Coming here inevitably reminded him of that day. Hoshino’s guilty face, avoiding his eyes, and the despair of everything crumbling in an instant…

He was done causing or feeling that pain. If someone was watching and laughing in class, that’d be easier to bear.

But his heart stung, remembering he’d brushed off Manaki’s offer to walk home together with a vague excuse. He wanted to handle it quietly to avoid worrying her, but he’d explain properly if asked. He resolved to head home.

“I’m leaving!” he announced.

He declared it to the unknown sender, but no one responded.

“Well, they wouldn’t show…” he muttered.

Mumbling to the void, he decided to see it as good story material. Shogo probably wasn’t the culprit, but he’d laugh about it.

Thinking this, he glanced at the cherry tree. Half the blossoms had fallen. Next time he came here, he hoped it’d be for something better. With that thought, he turned from the tree.

“M-Masaki-kun…!”

A faint voice called him. Looking toward it, he saw the cherry tree.

That voice… no way. It couldn’t be her. She wouldn’t call him “Masaki-kun.” No way…

He wanted to deny it, but he couldn’t ask who it was. The doubt lingered, unshaken by shaking his head.

Ignoring his confusion, the voice’s owner stepped forward cautiously, as if testing the ground, and appeared before him. Her presence cruelly confirmed his doubt was true.

A petite figure with glossy black hair. The girl he’d seen enough of that day stood there, backed by the cherry tree.

Her striking, willful eyes, usually so vibrant, now lacked light and looked uncertain.

“Hoshino… why…?” he stammered.

He couldn’t voice the question: Why are you here? He didn’t want to believe it, but she must have sent the letter. But why…?

Memories of her rejecting him flooded back. The same spot behind the school, the same people. But this time, the roles were reversed. He’d called her out then, but now she’d called him.

“Um… Masaki-kun, I’m sorry for calling you out suddenly,” she said.

Hoshino took a deep breath and started talking, leaving him confused.

“I thought if you knew it was me, you wouldn’t come, so I did it this way… sorry,” she explained.

She did call him “Masaki-kun.” The name felt jarringly wrong. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, his thoughts cleared, and he could observe Hoshino.

Her rapid, ragged breathing and pale face showed she was far more nervous than he was.

“Are you okay, Hoshino…?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks…” she replied.

He moved to approach out of concern, but she stopped him. Pressing her chest, she straightened up and looked at him directly.

Her breathing was still uneven, but her eyes held light again.

“Um! Masaki-kun!” she shouted.

She raised her voice, as if steadying herself.

“Y-Yes!” he responded.

Pushed by her intensity, he raised his voice too. Seeing his reaction, she spoke, her voice trembling as if she might cry.

“Can we… start over as friends?” she asked.

Right after saying it, before hearing his reply, Hoshino collapsed as if the strings holding her up had snapped.