Cliché.
It’s been a rough morning.
Dragging my unusually lethargic body along, I trudged toward the building where my first class was held.
There’s a reason I’m so utterly exhausted right now. It’s probably obvious, but it’s all thanks to a certain Kasahara.
The moment I mentioned to Kasahara that Hayashi was making me meals, her eyes practically lit up.
And then, she started grilling me for every detail about Hayashi’s home cooking, and after squeezing out every bit of info, she began pleading.
What kind of pleading, you ask? To sum it up, she wanted to join us for a meal.
Apparently, she had a bunch of reasons.
“It’s been half a year since starting university. Eating alone feels a little lonely.”
“When I come home from my part-time job, the house is dark. Turning on the light makes me feel like crying.”
“So, it’s not like I really want to eat Meg’s cooking or anything.”
Every single one was an obvious lie.
Seriously, that Kasahara… If she wants to eat Hayashi’s cooking, she should just come out and say it.
I’ve thought this for a while, but isn’t her attachment to Hayashi a bit too intense?
Is that what happens when you build a bond as close as best friends?
Seeing that kind of thing makes me think I don’t ever want to make a single best friend.
“Anyway, what should I do?”
Forgetting my exasperation with Kasahara, I found myself at a bit of a loss.
In the end, I couldn’t get Kasahara’s help to keep my promise to Hayashi.
So, what now?
I walked across campus, arms crossed, grumbling to myself.
…Honestly, though, it doesn’t really matter either way.
Whether I keep my promise to Hayashi or not, the reward she offered and the penalty for failing don’t feel worth the effort to me right now.
So, maybe just going with the flow is an option.
“I don’t think Meg suggested that because she wants you to interact with others so casually.”
…Or so I thought.
But someone’s words were making my resolve waver.
I used to think of myself as someone who could let things go easily.
Never imagined I’d end up agonizing over something like this.
With class about to start, the campus was getting livelier compared to earlier in the morning.
At our somewhat prestigious university, the campus population density spikes as class times approach.
It’s not as crowded as Shinjuku or Shibuya, of course, but the sheer vitality of all the young people around only adds to my fatigue.
That’s when it happened.
A handkerchief in the pocket of a girl walking ahead of me.
The handkerchief, not properly tucked into her pocket, was caught by a gust of wind hinting at the start of winter, stirred up near one of the taller research buildings on campus.
The handkerchief fluttered lightly.
The girl didn’t seem to notice it at all.
And then, it drifted down to my feet.
…Come to think of it.
I remembered seeing a handkerchief at a busy city station, trampled by countless people until it was as filthy as a rag.
I didn’t particularly dwell on the handkerchief itself or worry about whoever dropped it.
It just stuck vividly in my memory, and now it came back to me.
That’s all it was.
But I figured there was no need to let this one, which had landed at my feet, suffer the same fate, so I thoughtlessly picked it up.
“Excuse me.”
I called out to the girl who dropped the handkerchief as I picked it up.
The girl flinched, her shoulders trembling, and turned around with a frightened expression.
She looked at my face, then at my hand, and realized.
“You dropped this.”
No response.
No movement either.
For a moment, I recalled a time in my first year of high school when I picked up an eraser for the girl sitting next to me.
That girl, with her haughty attitude, had said to me when I handed it back:
“Tch.”
…
“Thank you so much.”
A polite thank you.
A polite bow.
“Huh?”
“Huh?”
At my dumbfounded voice, the girl tilted her head.
…Now that I looked closely, she was delicate, the kind of girl who might stir a protective instinct or even a hint of sadistic curiosity—completely different from Hayashi or Kasahara, a quintessentially feminine girl.
“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to be thanked for picking up something you dropped.”
“What, people don’t usually do that?”
They didn’t.
But I couldn’t say that, so I just gave a wry smile.
Then, I handed the handkerchief back to her.
“Thank you so much.”
“I just picked up something you dropped. Well, I’ll be going.”
“Oh…”
“Hm?”
“…No, it’s nothing.”
“Alright then.”
I parted ways with the girl and headed toward the building where my class was held.
That’s when it hit me.
…Wait.
Wait, wait, wait.
Did I just… have a conversation with another student?
Did I just fulfill my promise to Hayashi?
No, no, hold on (lol).
There’s no way that just happened.
I mean, it’s me we’re talking about.
The guy who’d say, “Talking to strangers? Too much hassle,” and brush it off?
No way. Absolutely no way.
There’s no way I’d fulfill a promise that quickly.
…Huh?
No, I did.
I totally did.
…Hell yeah!
For now, I decided to report to Hayashi.
Thinking that, I opened my phone and sent a message to Hayashi.
Promise fulfilled.
What did you talk about?
Hayashi replied almost instantly.
So, I decided to respond right away. If I took too long, she might think I was lying.
I figured I’d just tell it like it happened, sticking to the plain truth.
Picked up a handkerchief that flew to my feet in the wind, called out to the owner, and handed it back. Got thanked, too.
That sounds super sketchy, lol.
I know.
I was thinking the same thing as I typed it.
Cliché plot twists feel kind of fresh after coming full circle, don’t they?
But do I really need to keep having these “nice moments” with girls? (Angry)
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