Each unique circumstance brings its own distinct worries.
Friday arrived.
As usual, in the early morning, Tsukasa Jinguuji met Sakurakouji Asakura at the door of his house. The two walked together to the station. On the train, the drowsy Sakurakouji Asakura rested her head on the boy’s shoulder and slept through the entire ride.
Once off the platform, they pretended to be strangers. At the slope before school, they met up with friends, greeted each other, and walked together as if they were little idols secretly dating their manager behind the scenes.
The final class before dismissal that afternoon was P.E. Unable to find a partner for stretching, Tsukasa Jinguuji raised his hand and claimed he wasn’t feeling well. The P.E. teacher merely nodded and allowed him to sit alone.
Leaning against the gym wall, he savored the taste of isolation that hung in the air, closing his eyes and losing himself in a novel.
He could have gone to the nurse’s office to sleep, but he didn’t.
Perhaps his mood had been influenced by that girl, which led him to deliberately sit at the edge of the gym, listening to the shouts of “Nice shot!” and “Good job!” from afar, the sounds of a youth he felt so distant from.
Whoever invented the word “youth,” Tsukasa Jinguuji wished he could ask them—what should those who cannot experience youth call this period of their lives?
“Yamashita! Pass the ball!”
“Uh…”
“Oh no!”
“Watch out!”
His fingertips didn’t even brush the flash of the deep orange basketball as it shot past him like a rampaging, out-of-control Geass, mercilessly flying toward the boy sitting in the corner with his eyes closed.
Thud—
A gust of wind brushed past his ear, and the ball slammed into the wall behind him, bouncing a few times before rolling away.
The entire gym fell silent. Even the girls playing volleyball on the other side turned to look.
Sakurakouji Asakura’s gaze was among them.
“Hey, did he just dodge that with his eyes closed?”
“Huh? There’s no way.”
“I swear I saw it!”
Whispers spread as the boy who had thrown the ball stood rooted for a moment, then reluctantly walked over to Tsukasa Jinguuji.
“Hey… are you alright?”
The boy looked up at him, his voice calm. “Yeah, it didn’t hit me anyway.”
“Oh, okay.”
Hearing this, the boy just stood there, eyes averted, as if not sure whether the conversation was really happening.
Tsukasa Jinguuji stood, glancing at the P.E. teacher whose gaze had shifted their way but whose feet hadn’t moved.
“Sir, I think I’ll go to the nurse’s office after all. My stomach hurts,” he said.
“Are you sure you’ll be alright?”
“Yes.”
Receiving permission, Tsukasa Jinguuji quietly left the gym.
As soon as his figure disappeared, the gym’s energy returned as if nothing had happened. High schoolers at this age were meant to be so nonchalant; this was just a small “failure” of youth.
“You okay, Yamashita?”
“Yeah…”
“That guy is really a pain, isn’t he?”
“Huh?”
“Jinguuji, honestly, what’s with him? Just because he’s good-looking and reads a few books, he thinks he’s better than us.”
“But it really was our fault just now…”
“Don’t worry about it, he said it didn’t hit him, right? Forget it.”
“Come on! Let’s keep playing!”
…
…
Tsukasa Jinguuji didn’t go to the nurse’s office but returned to the classroom. Taking advantage of the empty room, he finished the class chores, changed out of his gym clothes into his uniform, packed his bag, sent a message to Sakurakouji Asakura, and went to the staff room to get a key. Then, he set off alone toward the old school building.
In the connecting corridor, he spotted a small figure squatting at the base of the wall, head buried in her knees, a cute cowlick peeking out.
She wore gym clothes, so it was clear her class was having P.E. Otherwise, this would be a case of a student council member skipping class, which would be hard to explain and would embarrass Hoshino Hoshino.
Jinguuji looked around. One side was the courtyard, the other the sports field—no one in sight.
Surely she couldn’t be playing hide-and-seek like an elementary schooler, he wondered.
He tiptoed around the wall, planning to slip past this mysterious creature.
Just as he was about to enter the old school building, he felt a tug at his uniform—the hem caught, pulling him back.
He had more or less expected this. With a sigh, he turned around.
“You’re going to stretch out my uniform.”
“…”
“Did you need something?”
“Not really,” the little creature puffed her cheeks, looking up at him.
“In that case, let go of my uniform.”
“Are you going to run away?”
“Why would I?”
“Because every time you see me, you look like you’re annoyed.”
“Ah, so you’re self-aware,” Jinguuji said, surprised.
“Ugh…”
The girl released his uniform and trailed after him as he made his way to the student council room on the fourth floor.
“So, what’s wrong?”
As they walked side by side, Jinguuji glanced at her.
“I don’t know if it’s trouble or just a dilemma, but in the end, it all comes from being too cute.”
What on earth was she talking about?
You Wugong let out a heavy sigh and pointed at herself. “Hey, senpai, you have to admit, I’m a very outstanding girl, right?”
“…”
“Why aren’t you saying anything?”
“I’m just wondering if you’re being serious or joking.”
“Come on! Your adorable junior is troubled, how can you have such an attitude?”
“So you’re serious…” Jinguuji remarked, genuinely surprised.
The petite girl snorted and then looked thoroughly dejected.
“Listen, during P.E., there was a mixed dodgeball game. I’m so popular that everyone in my class wanted to team up with me—they almost started fighting over it. I didn’t know what to do, so I ran away.”
So this was the trouble of being popular?
I’m popular too, around Shimokitazawa—because of my looks.
A strange sense of rivalry stirred in Jinguuji.
Then there was only silence, a long, drawn-out silence as they climbed from the first to the third floor.
“Wait! I was waiting for you to comfort me—what were you waiting for?”
Jinguuji took a deep breath and grumbled, “Why should I care?”
He gave his junior’s head a light pat, fished the key from his pocket, and opened the door to the student council room.