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● March 22nd (Tuesday) – Asamura Yuuta

7 AM.

Wading through the morning crush of commuters and students, Ayase-san and I finally reached the Shinkansen ticket gates. An information board hanging overhead displayed the details of our bullet train, signaling the official start of our three-day graduation trip.

“Yo. Over here. You finally made it.”

I turned my head toward the voice and saw Maru leaning against a wall near the gates. Phone in one hand, he waved with the other before his eyes darted back to his screen, evidently killing time with a game. Ayase-san and I rolled our suitcases over.

“Maru-kun, you’re early,” Ayase-san observed.

“Have you been waiting long?” I asked.

“Nah, only about ten minutes,” Maru replied with a casual air. But since we had arrived a full twenty minutes before the meetup time, that meant he’d be waiting for half an hour. When I pointed out just how early he was, he shared a sad story from his middle school days about getting caught in a train delay and missing an event he was excited about.

“Ever since then, I’ve made a point to leave home with plenty of time to spare for things I’m looking forward to.”

“I see.”

“Especially with the Shinkansen,” he continued, his gaze darting around the station. “If you miss it, you’re screwed…”

Following his lead, Ayase-san and I began scanning the flow of people. Right, Narasaka-san wasn’t here yet. Just then, a small notification sound chimed from Maru’s phone, followed almost instantly by one from mine. Ayase-san pulled her own phone from her pocket.

“That girl…” Maru grimaced.

“Looks like she’s still on the train,” Ayase-san said.

I checked my own LINE and saw a new sticker in our group chat. It was a cat sprinting at full speed with a speech bubble that read, “UOOOH!”

Narasaka-san, I don’t think running inside the train is going to get you here any faster.

“It’s like this every time we meet up…” Maru sighed, exasperated.

“Now, now, it’s not even the meeting time yet. And besides…”

“Ah, she’s here.”

At Ayase-san’s words, Maru and I turned to see Narasaka-san rushing toward us, her red suitcase bouncing along behind her. She reached us, completely out of breath.

“S-Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“You didn’t,” Maru said, glancing up at the station clock. “It’s still before the meetup time.” It was just like him not to make a big deal about being the first one there.

“It’s okay, Maaya,” Ayase-san added. “We still have fifteen minutes until departure.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“Alright, I’ll hand out the tickets,” I said, taking them out and passing them around.

We fed our tickets into the automatic gates and retrieved them on the other side. Even with time to spare, missing the train would be a disaster. We walked past a shop selling station bento and headed for the escalator down to our platform──

“Ah, station bento!”

Narasaka-san came to a sudden halt. Like a moth to a flame, she drifted toward the bento shop.

“Whoa! They have a Charcoal-Grilled Beef Kalbi Bowl! Looks delicious!”

“Hey, hold on, Narasaka!” Maru called out, hurrying after her.

“Ooh, but this Thick-Cut Loin Tonkatsu Bento is hard to pass up, too. Yep, yep. The best part of a trip is the bento, after all.”

“Don’t ‘after all’ me. You──”

“You’re not having any, Tomo-kun? Aren’t ya hungry? Huh? Or are you already full?”

“Ah, no. I haven’t eaten yet, but──”

“Which one’s better? The beef kalbi or the loin tonkatsu?”

“A balance is more important than just having meat. If it were me, I’d get this one with both meat and fish──wait, that’s not the point!”

“Well then, I think I’ll go with the beef kalbi. Oh, but this Fukagawa-meshi over here looks tasty, too.”

“Na-ra-sa-ka…”

She spun around. “It’s rude to shout in front of a shop, y’know?”

“Y-You’re one to talk──”

I patted a dumbfounded Maru on the shoulder. “Hey, hey. Calm down. Look, we still have more than ten minutes.”

“We skipped breakfast, too, so why don’t we just buy enough for all four of us here?” Ayase-san suggested in a placating tone. And so, we each picked out a station bento before taking the escalator down to the platform. Moments later, our train glided into the station, and we departed from Shinagawa right on time.

We had booked two rows of two seats, and after confirming it was allowed, we rotated them to face each other. (If the seats had been occupied, we couldn’t have just moved them for our own convenience, but luckily, they were empty).

Narasaka-san took an aisle seat with Maru by the window next to her. Across from them, I sat by the other window, and Ayase-san took the remaining aisle seat.

We stored our luggage on the overhead racks, keeping only our bento and drinks with us. The train was so smooth you could barely feel it move—as expected of the world-class Shinkansen. Only the scenery outside flew by in a flash. Beyond the passing cityscape, a bright blue sky stretched out, and the warming temperature promised a pleasant spring day.

“Ahh, what a relief~”

“It would’ve been a bit more relaxing if you hadn’t insisted on buying bento, you know,” Maru pointed out.

“Ehh? But you need ’em, right? The bento,” Narasaka-san said, holding up the box on her lap as if to show it off.

“I’m not saying we don’t.”

“You’re not very honest, are you?”

“Well, it was good timing, actually,” I chimed in. “We met up early, so I’d given up on eating breakfast.”

“Oh yeah, I was wondering about that. Did none of you eat breakfast?” Narasaka-san asked, already starting to untie the string on her bento.

“Hold on a second. Does that mean you did eat?”

“Skipping breakfast? Isn’t that, like, impossible? It’s not healthy, you know? Saki, you must have had a little something, right?”

“Well… an apple, I guess?”

Ayase-san was right; we had split apple slices between us.

Wait, Narasaka-san, you’re going to eat again?

That was exactly what happened. Narasaka-san put her hands together, said a proper “itadakimasu,” and dug her chopsticks into the Fukagawa-meshi she had chosen—a dish of clams and vegetables cooked in broth, which was then used to cook the rice. She scooped up a mouthful of the brown-tinted rice and popped it into her mouth.

“Mmm, delicious~!”

The pleasant aroma of dashi wafted over from her open bento, stoking my appetite until my stomach was on the verge of growling. Ayase-san gazed down at the bento on her own lap.

“It feels a little early, but if we think of it as breakfast…”

She’s taking the bait, she’s taking the bait.

“I think it’s fine to eat,” I said. “By the time we arrive, it’ll probably be time to get hungry again.” Maru nodded in agreement.

“You really eat with such a happy look on your face,” he said to Narasaka-san.

“It’s delicious! I’m so happy! Tomo-kun, listen, there’s a limit to how many meals a person can eat in their lifetime, y’know? Every single one is important. You can’t waste any of them. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Delicious food, beautiful scenery outside the window, and a fun time with close friends──ah, get it?! ‘Tomo’ from Tomo-kun and ‘tomo’ from ‘tomodachi’! Didja get it?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“And fun conversations. This is the best part of a trip~”

“I get it, so just eat. Quietly.”

They get along so well. Ayase-san must have been thinking the same thing.

“Maaya, you’ve gotten pretty close with Maru-kun, haven’t you?”

“Well, we were together on the school trip, and it’s been over a year since the four of us started hanging out.”

Since the school trip? A question mark was about to form over my head before I remembered. That’s right—on the second day of our Singapore trip, our group led by Maru and Ayase-san’s group led by Narasaka-san had spent the day together at the zoo. We’d bumped into each other by chance and ended up coordinating our schedules until dinner.

“I wish we could’ve hung out more back then, too,” Ayase-san said.

“Well, we were in different classes in our second year. And besides Maaya, I haven’t really seen Maru-kun that much.”

“That’s true,” Maru replied. “You came to the summer tournament, but we couldn’t talk much. I heard you came to cheer us on with Narasaka… It’s late, but let me thank you.”

“Not at all, thank you. Baseball was actually pretty fun.”

“You sound so formal.”

“I’m telling you, we haven’t talked that much.”

“For real? I dunno, I feel like the four of us were always hanging out. Hmmm, delicious! This is so good even when it’s cold,” Narasaka-san chimed in between mouthfuls of Fukagawa-meshi.

“Well, I’m pretty much the same,” I added. “I think what Ayase-san said is right. I don’t really have any memories of having a deep conversation with Narasaka-san. Just hearing about her from Maru sometimes.”

“That’s it, that’s it!” Narasaka-san nodded as if I’d hit the nail on the head. “I was always talking about you two with Tomo-kun, so I kinda felt like the four of us were always together!”

“Always?”

She nodded vigorously. With her cheeks stuffed with food, she looked a lot like a small animal.

Ah, there’s a grain of rice next to her lips.

“That’s why I told you to eat calmly. Don’t talk with rice on your face,” Maru chided gently.

“Hm?”

“Don’t ‘hm?’ me. Here.” As he spoke, he swiftly reached out, plucked the grain of rice from the corner of her mouth, and held it out for her to see. Narasaka-san then retrieved the stray bite by nibbling it right off his fingertip.

…Huh?

Eh?

Could it be that…

“Maru and Narasaka-san… are you two dating?”

Without thinking, the words that popped into my head tumbled from my lips.

The moment I said it, the expression of Ayase-san, sitting next to me, shifted. Her mouth formed a small “ah,” a flustered look on her face. Ah. Was this maybe something I wasn’t supposed to say? Maru also looked a bit panicked, glancing at Narasaka-san, but she, on the other hand, just seemed puzzled.

“We are.”

“…I-I see.”

She’d affirmed it so casually. Maru was the one who was more flustered, muttering something like, “Hey, it’s because you were hinting at it.”

No, no, I think Maru’s actions were more telling…

“Eh, I thought you already knew,” Narasaka-san said. “It’s more like, you’re only just realizing now, Asamura-kun? I mean, from the moment you suggested a graduation trip for the four of us, I assumed it was a double date.”

I had thought they got along unusually well, but I never imagined they were that kind of close.

Ah… I see.

“So the reason Maru had a feeling about me and Ayase-san and kept saying all that stuff was because he heard it from Narasaka-san…” A thought that had been nagging at me finally clicked into place. At my words, Maru looked genuinely flustered, stammering out “Ah—” and “Well—.”

“Well, uh, I apologize for obtaining information through unjust means.”

“I don’t think it was that unjust. I don’t mind,” Ayase-san said.

“Yeah. I don’t mind either.”

“Hmph. Ahem. I appreciate you saying that,” Maru mumbled awkwardly, and I couldn’t help but smile. For just a moment, the large-framed Maru looked embarrassed and seemed to shrink in on himself. I’d always thought of him as straightforward, sincere, and intelligent—a calm and collected guy who was rarely fazed. I don’t often see him this obviously shaken.

I found that I quite liked this unexpected side of my friend.

“What are you grinning about?”

“Well, I just thought it was unexpected. But an unexpected side to a friend isn’t so bad.”

“Don’t tease me.”

The fact that he looked a little sulky was also──

“Right?! You noticed it too, Asamura-kun! That’s what’s so cute about him!” Narasaka-san exclaimed as if she’d read my mind.

“C-Cute, what are you──”

“No, no. The shy face of a gentleman who usually only says smart things! That’s worth a billion points!”

From there, Maru just put on a grumpy scowl as Narasaka-san launched into a speech, listing off his “cute points” with machine-gun-like speed. Well, making that kind of face is just going to be counterproductive, you know.

As we finished our station bento, Ayase-san and I ended up hearing the story of how Maru and Narasaka-san got together.

Apparently, when they first met, they didn’t even know they were classmates. They were friends on the same server in an online game—or so I was told. Since I don’t play online games, I couldn’t quite grasp what that meant. They got along so well that they decided to have an “offline meetup”—meeting in real life—and the punchline was that they were classmates.

“The catalyst was her asking me to buy some anime merchandise for her,” Maru explained. “I couldn’t just ask for the address of a woman I’d never met, so I suggested sending it for convenience store pickup, but we both kind of realized we lived nearby. She said it was fine to meet.”

So he’d earned that much trust. That sounded just like Maru.

“But how could you not realize?” I asked.

“She used a handle online, and Narasaka had faked her profile info to say she was a female college student of legal age. It’s fraud, fraud.”

“Don’t say such rude things! It’s self-defense,” she retorted. “There are guys who’ll try to pick you up just for being a high school girl, and people tend to look down on you. If I say I’m an adult woman, they’re less likely to look down on me .”

“Is that so?” Maru tilted his head, and while I also had my doubts, I couldn’t say for sure that it wasn’t true.

“If I tried to fake my gender, I’d have use a voice changer, and I can’t use masculine language. I didn’t want people prying about my school, either. It was the bare minimum of self-defense!”

“Well, let’s just leave it at that,” Maru conceded.

So, when they actually met, they were shocked. Maru and Narasaka-san had never been in the same class, but they knew of each other. Come to think of it, Maru had told me before that Narasaka-san was famous.

As we listened to their story, the Shinkansen sped onward. When Narasaka-san started talking, we could see Mt. Fuji out the window, but by the time she finished, we had already passed Shizuoka. To summarize, they met offline, found out they had mutual friends in me and Ayase-san, and grew closer as they shared information about us. Even so, they apparently never thought they would end up as a couple.

Just then, the usually quiet Shinkansen jolted for a moment. The window on our side vibrated faintly, and I think there was a slight ringing in my ears. The view outside darkened, and just as I registered what was happening, a northbound Shinkansen shot past us, already far in the distance. The peaceful spring scenery returned.

“Whoa, that was surprising!” Narasaka-san exclaimed, pressing a hand to her heart.

“You get surprised to easily,” Maru said. “You must have experienced trains passing each other plenty of times on the Yamanote Line.”

“It’s totally different! I mean, it was over in a flash! I couldn’t see inside the other train at all!”

“It was packed.”

“You saw that?”

“Don’t believe me. I just made that up.”

“What? And here I was, impressed, thinking maybe Tomo-kun could actually see. Like, ‘as expected of the baseball team captain’ and all that.”

“You overestimate me.”

“Give me back my feelings of awe.”

“I can’t give them back for free.”

“Ehh? I already ate my bento, though?”

“I’m not asking you to hand over your bento.”

“What should I do, Asamura-kun?! Tomo-kun’s being naughty!”

“Wh-! What are you talking about!” Maru said in a panic, his usual cool demeanor gone. I couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“See. He laughed at you,” Narasaka-san said, pointing at me.

“It’s fine, I was trying to make him laugh. Right, Asamura-kun?!”

“Ah, yeah, I guess so. You did make me laugh. You two are really in sync.”

At my words, Maru looked away shyly. Seeing this, Narasaka-san flashed me a V-sign. Ah, yes. This is undoubtedly Narasaka-san’s victory. They’d only been seriously dating for about a year, but they were so comfortable with each other it felt like they’d been together for ages. Compared to them, Ayase-san and I were moving at a snail’s pace.

I noticed Ayase-san, in the corner of my eye, staring intently at Maru and Narasaka-san’s faces, alternating between them.

“Is something wrong, Ayase-san?”

“Ah, no, um. It’s nothing.”

That was her reply, but her face seemed a little red as she stared. Then, she quickly averted her gaze and began watching the scenery out the window. Or rather, she was pretending to. …What was that about? I was puzzled, but she just kept looking outside, not even glancing back at me. It was only when we were passing Toyohashi that she finally turned her gaze back from the window, her expression returned to its usual cool composure. I wondered what that had been all about, but I ended up forgetting about it amidst the lively conversation.

Just as scheduled, the Shinkansen glided into the platform at Shin-Osaka Station.

The plan for the first day was to go sightseeing in Osaka.

“First, we’ll drop our luggage off at the hotel. That’s the plan, right, Asamura?”

I nodded at Maru’s words. I hadn’t made a full-blown itinerary, but I had jotted down a detailed schedule on my phone. Ayase-san and I couldn’t just keep relying on others; this trip was born from our desire to actively maintain our friendship with them.

“That’s the plan. It’s not even a five-minute walk from the station.”

“Sorry for leaving even the hotel arrangements to you.”

“No, no. We were the ones who invited you. I’d like you to leave it to us, if you don’t mind,” I said, and beside me, Ayase-san nodded in agreement.

“Alright, let’s head to the hotel then.”

“If we can get there, that is,” Narasaka-san gently refuted with a shake of her head. “First, we have to get out of Shin-Osaka Station, right?”

“What do you mean?” Ayase-san tilted her head, but I had a feeling I knew what she meant.

“I think she means we can’t get to the hotel from the station without conquering the Shin-Osaka labyrinth first.”

“You mean it’s easy to get lost?”

“Exactly.”

It’s a common issue with stations in major Japanese cities; because multiple train lines converge, the inside of the station is bewilderingly complex. It’s not uncommon to think you’re following the signs only to find yourself in a completely unfamiliar place.

“Man, I’m glad it’s not Umeda! I hear that place is a real dungeon!” Narasaka-san exclaimed.

“I’ve heard that a lot,” Maru agreed. “But Shibuya Station is plenty complicated in its own right. For us, who are used to that, it shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”

“And we have map apps, too,” Ayase-san added. We all nodded in unison.

For us Shibuya Dungeon Masters, there was no need to be afraid. It was everyone’s first trip to the Kansai region, but we escaped the Shinkansen platform and, in no time at all, arrived at the hotel we had booked──

──We couldn’t get there.

Information you just look up online and information you get on the ground are two completely different things. I knew that in my head, but I was experiencing it firsthand now. We came out of the central Shinkansen gates and could see the outside right in front of us. Who would’ve thought that the rotary on that floor was only for vehicle traffic?

We had to go back inside and down a set of stairs to finally get to ground level. From there, we could already see our hotel, so we breathed a sigh of relief. A walk of about five minutes brought us to our reserved accommodation.

“I’m already tired~”

“You shouldn’t be getting tired the moment we’ve arrived,” Maru retorted.

We finished checking in and confirmed our room assignments: two twin rooms, one for the boys and one for the girls. I handed each of them a card key. As Narasaka-san scrutinized hers, she muttered something terrifying, “You’re not splitting up by couples, huh?” To which Maru immediately shot back, “It’d be awkward the next day,” and Ayase-san and I nodded with serious expressions.

Exactly.

Just imagine it. When you meet the other couple at the dining hall for breakfast, what’s the first thing you’d think? It would be awkward even if nothing happened. And we’re not at an age where we can believe that nothing happened—especially for Maru and Narasaka-san, who don’t have the psychological barrier of being stepsiblings like Ayase-san and I do.

Which means those two have already…

I hastily shook my head to banish the wicked delusions from my mind. Going on a graduation trip with impure thoughts would just be exhausting.

“Well, it’s an important memory with Saki, too! So a girls’ room is nice!” Narasaka-san had already switched gears, leaving me and my budding impure thoughts behind.

We left our luggage in our rooms and then met up in the lobby.

“So, where are we heading first?” Ayase-san asked, looking at a map app. I checked the memo on my own phone to confirm. It was a rough schedule that just listed the names of tourist spots like “Osaka Castle,” “Dotonbori,” and “Namba Grand Kagetsu.” I had checked the locations and researched the routes, but I didn’t want the kind of sightseeing where you’re rushed around on a second-by-second schedule. If there was one place we absolutely had to see today, it would probably be Osaka Castle.

“For the rest, I’m thinking we’ll just explore we go.”

“No objections,” Maru said.

“Alright, first up is Osaka Castle!” Narasaka-san declared.

“Umm, in that case, from Shin-Osaka Station, take the Midosuji Line to Honmachi Station, then the Chuo Line to Tanimachi Yonchome Station. From there, it looks like we walk,” Ayase-san informed us after checking the app.

Although we almost got lost again at Shin-Osaka Station, an hour later we had arrived at Tanimachi Yonchome Station. From there, it was a fifteen-minute walk.

There was a moment when Ayase-san was strongly drawn to the Osaka Museum of History and stopped in her tracks, but we safely made it to the Otemon Gate, the entrance to Osaka Castle. Beyond the gate, a large park spread out to the left.

“The central part of the castle is called the ‘honmaru,’ but,” Ayase-san began, showing off her trademark history knowledge, “from there, they’re named ‘ninomaru’ and ‘sannomaru’ in order of importance. This area is the ‘ninomaru,’ and since it’s to the west of the castle, it’s the ‘nishinomaru.’”

“Oh. So that’s why it’s called ‘Nishinomaru Garden,’” I said.

Ayase-san nodded. “Probably.”

Narasaka-san asked while staring intently at Maru, “So, if it was in the east, would it be Higashinomaru?”

“Why are you looking at me?”

“In that case, if Higashi no Maru-kun is now combining with Nishinomaru, that means this is the center! Alright, let’s call it Mannmaru Garden for today!”

“We’re not calling it that!” Maru dutifully retorted. That’s the kind of exchange that would probably get them scolded if a local heard it.

In any case, this Nishinomaru Garden, located to the west with a view of Osaka Castle, is also a famous spot for cherry blossoms.

“Whoa! They’re blooming!”

The moment she saw the cherry blossoms, Narasaka-san’s excitement shot through the roof. They had only just started to open, maybe about twenty percent in bloom, but it was still a spectacular sight. According to a tourist guide, when they’re in full bloom, about 300 cherry trees blossom here.

“If you do this, you can see it beautifully!” Narasaka-san let out a cheer and ran under the trees.

“Wow!”

As you tilt your head back and look up, you can see a few petals dancing in the gentle breeze against the blue sky. Perhaps because they had just started to bloom, only the first few blossoms were falling, but the way they drifted across the blue canvas was like a kaleidoscope.

Following her lead, I looked up, and the view she was seeing was reflected in my own vision.

“Oh!” Beside me, Ayase-san also let out a cry of admiration.

“Cherry blossoms really are nice, aren’t they?”

For a while, the two of us just stared up at the sky. When I came to, Narasaka-san had already run to the edge of the park, and Maru was eagerly poring over an explanation sign. It’s in moments like these that the differences in each person’s personality really show.

“Is it okay if I take pictures, too?” Ayase-san asked.

“Yeah. I’m gonna watch the cherry blossoms for a little longer.”

While waiting for her to finish taking a flurry of pictures of Osaka Castle, I leisurely watched the pink petals dance. As time passed slowly.

From there, we moved on to the Osaka Castle keep. While the exterior looks like a traditional Japanese castle, the interior has been rebuilt as a modern museum. Thanks to the tickets we’d purchased online, we were able to get inside without waiting.

This was the fruit of my advance preparation—or so I’d like to boast, but it was a tip from Maru. He had told me that these days you can buy admission tickets online for most places. That kind of smart follow-up isn’t my thing; I’m no match for Maru or Narasaka-san.

The one who enjoyed the tour inside the most was, of course, Ayase-san. She wasn’t the type to read every sign from beginning to end like Maru, but she carefully observed the exhibits, gazing intently at letters and paintings from the era. On the second floor, there was a corner where you could try on helmets and surcoats. Maru and Narasaka-san happily tried them on and even took a video. Wouldn’t it be more popular if these two posted videos? They’re both sociable, outgoing types, after all.

“Saki, you should try on a kosode, too,” Narasaka-san suggested.

“I’m good.”

“But it’d be cute.”

“I’m good for a while. I’ve taken enough pictures.”

At those words, Narasaka-san tilted her head but didn’t press the matter. She’s good at judging when to back off. When Ayase-san said “taken enough pictures,” she was probably referring to the commemorative photos we took in her graduation hakama, but this felt different. Still, when she said “I’m good for a while” she didn’t rule out the future, which meant Ayase-san has become less averse to having her picture taken.

Perhaps because we took our time, we ended up spending about two hours there. After leaving Osaka Castle, we headed to our next destination, Dotonbori.

We transferred trains again and got off at “Nipponbashi Station.” This is a classic joke, but for people from the Kanto region, the pronunciation “Nipponbashi” is different from the familiar “Nihonbashi” and can be a source of confusion.

“Is ‘Nihonbashi’ not okay?” Narasaka-san asked with the pronunciation she was used to.

Maru, with a grave expression, said solemnly, “It’s not. That is the Nihonbashi we know in Tokyo. But this is Osaka. ‘Nipponbashi’ is the native pronunciation.”

“…Yeah. Huh? Yeah.”

“As they say, ‘When in Rome, do as the Romans do.’ Therefore, this place is ‘Nipponbashi.’”

“Well, I kind of feel like we’re not being native when we Kanto people are using the Kanto pronunciation in the first place, but…”

While we were having this pointless debate, Ayase-san had opened her map app. According to her, if we walked north from here, we should reach the east side of the Dotonbori shopping street. We walked in a group, passing through a narrow, covered shopping street and out onto a slightly wider one. This seemed to be it. In front of us was a shop with a large crab model as its sign—a famous chain that also exists in Kanto. But looking around, there were many unfamiliar shops, and the energetic Kansai dialect I could hear from all around was almost overwhelming, mixed in with the languages of foreign tourists.

As we walked, Maru muttered, “Don’t you feel like there are a lot of 3D signs?”

Now that he mentioned it, I felt that way, too. Compared to the bustling streets of Shibuya, which are surrounded by flat digital signage, the sensibility somehow feels different. There were many restaurants, and because it was lunchtime, good smells wafted from all directions. Come to think of it, we hadn’t eaten lunch yet.

“…Shall we eat something?” I suggested.

“I’m hungry,” Narasaka-san declared.

“It’s almost two o’clock,” Ayase-san added. “The shops will probably be less crowded now, so maybe we should eat.”

No one objected, so we ended up wandering around the shopping street looking for a place to eat. As we were looking, someone called out to us. A round-faced old lady from a small takoyaki shop was smiling and beckoning us over, her voice loud and her Kansai dialect thick. The pressure made both me and Maru flinch a little.

However, there are brave warriors who fearlessly face such situations. Needless to say, it was the former number one social butterfly of Suisei High, Narasaka-san.

“Wow, that looks delicious, aunty! No, I mean, ma’am!” she said, trotting over.

It was blatant flattery, but the takoyaki lady’s face broke into a smile, and she offered a piece of takoyaki on a skewer as thanks for the compliment.

“Yay!” Narasaka-san accepted it without hesitation and took a bite. Sh-She’s strong…

“Delicious! Mmm, I can really taste the octopus! And the flavor is a little different from the ones in Kanto! Yep, Osaka takoyaki is the best!”

“You bet it is,” the old lady said, puffing out her chest and starting to boast about her shop’s takoyaki. Narasaka-san continued the conversation, nodding along and interjecting, and they were laughing together every three seconds. What was so funny?

We bought four servings. Narasaka-san, having been taken a liking to, got her toppings for free. The takoyaki, with a big piece of octopus in it, was delicious and piping hot.

Maru, while shouting that it was delicious, began his lecture. “Kanto takoyaki is often cooked until the surface is crispy. Compared to that, I think the takoyaki here is a little more restrained. It’s more ‘crisp,’ or ‘crunchy.’”

I see.

“And the inside is soft and gooey. When you take a bite, the batter overflows. It feels like you’re going to burn your mouth, but that’s what makes it so good. As you roll it around, the large piece of octopus tumbles out, and when you bite into it, the flavor bursts in your mouth. Ah, I am eating takoyaki right now! And I feel so happy.”

“You’re quite the talker,” I commented.

“Some dance when it’s good. Some talk.”

“Are there really people who dance?”

“There’s one right there.”

Narasaka-san was dancing, waving the bamboo skewer in front of her face like a conductor’s baton. …Um.

“Narasaka-san.”

“It’s the dance of deliciousness!”

I couldn’t help but look around, but the passersby didn’t seem fazed by a high school girl—soon to be a college student—dancing because her food was delicious. It feels like we’re being left alone, in a good way.

“Eh… I’m overthinking this… right?” I muttered.

“Asamura-kun! Expressing that something is delicious is an important duty to the person who made it for you!” she declared.

Ehh… We were eating at the side of the shop so as not to be in the way, but when I glanced back, the old lady was watching Narasaka-san’s dance with a happy expression. Before I knew it, Narasaka-san had finished eating, a satisfied smile on her face.

…I see.

“The taste of the dashi might be different, too,” Ayase-san said quietly.

“Ah, you noticed too, Saki? That’s because──” Narasaka-san began to explain. “In Kanto, they tend to use bonito flakes for dashi, but in Kansai, it’s kombu dashi. They say that when you combine that with miso or light soy sauce, you get this kind of flavor.”

“Oh. You’re quite knowledgeable, Narasaka.”

“Well, you know, my parents are busy, so I often cook for my younger brothers. And I watch a lot of cooking videos and stuff. You just naturally pick it up!”

“I sometimes watch videos to learn recipes, too,” Ayase-san said. “…But I don’t think I remember things like that.”

“This is really delicious, isn’t it? I think I might like this taste better.”

“I like it, too. Maybe I should try making it with the recipe Maaya mentioned. Should we try making it at home sometime?”

“Eh. You can? If you can, I’d like to ask you to. I want to learn, too.”

“Yeah. Sometime soon.”

“I’m looking forward to it. …Hm?”

Narasaka-san and Maru were looking at us with knowing smiles.

“What?” Ayase-san asked.

“Well, it’s just that,” Maru started.

“That conversation sounds like something out of a newlywed’s home,” Narasaka-san finished.

Grin grin grin grin grin grin.

“Don’t tease me,” Ayase-san said, turning her face away, but that only made it worse.

For lunch, we went into an okonomiyaki restaurant that caught our eye. By the time we left, it was past three o’clock, so we headed to our next destination, Namba Grand Kagetsu.

The theater, which specializes in comedy, is less than a ten-minute walk south from Dotonbori. We somehow made it in time for the 4:00 PM show, buying same-day tickets and slipping inside.

“This place. It was on the schedule you showed us from the beginning, Asamura-kun,” Narasaka-san said, recalling our video call. “Tomo-kun and I are pretty big fans of comedy, but it was surprising to see this on the schedule you made.”

“Ah, well, that’s true,” I admitted. At the time, I had just searched for fun places around Shin-Osaka and filled it in randomly. After the call, Ayase-san and I had our own meeting. Neither of us were particularly interested in comedy, but we kept it on the list because──

“But we’re in Osaka, after all. This is the home of comedy, right?” she said, and I nodded beside her.

“It’s because I’m not usually interested that I wanted to find out.”

A trip is an encounter with the extraordinary. Living things are fundamentally conservative; if you leave them alone, they repeat the same things, and your thinking becomes rigid. But we also fear losing our curiosity, so we intentionally seek out new experiences. The entertainment of travel is a chance to experience things you tend to put off in daily life.

──Though my true feelings of wanting to experience authentic comedy might be stronger than such a lofty ideal.

The show started shortly after we took our seats.

As expected, Maru and Narasaka-san seemed to know the comedians who came on stage, but most were unfamiliar to me. The show, packed with both manzai and skits, was something that even beginners like me and Ayase-san could fully enjoy. I found myself genuinely laughing, and when I looked next to me, Ayase-san was covering her mouth, her body bent in a ‘く’ shape as she tried to hold it in. It seemed she was embarrassed to laugh out loud like Narasaka-san, but she couldn’t hold it back anymore. While trembling, she said, “Sorry, that really got me,” and clung to my shoulder.

By the time the show was over and we went outside, the sun had already set. It was a little past six. The street in front of the theater was still brightly lit. The sky above was like a black velvet curtain, and I found myself thinking strange things, like what kind of play would begin if that curtain were to rise.

As we walked around Dotonbori one last time, Ayase-san said with deep emotion that it had been a long time since she had laughed so much. By the end, she couldn’t hold it in anymore and was laughing out loud. I suddenly realized this might have been the first time I’d ever seen her laugh so freely.

“Was it?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh with your mouth wide open, Saki,” Narasaka-san commented.

“I don’t open it.”

“No, no, laughter is the source of good health! You should laugh more, Saki.”

“Indeed. Laughter boosts the immune system and reduces stress,” Maru added. These two really do love comedy.

“Skits and manzai are pretty good, right?” I asked Ayase-san.

“Well, I did think that, but…”

“It’s a waste when you have a comedy partner right there,” Narasaka-san chimed in, presumably referring to me. “Being under the same roof all the time is the perfect environment, isn’t it? You can even do skits as part of your normal life!”

“No, no. Why do we have to do skits as part of our normal life?” I asked.

“That’s what Tomo-kun and I are like whenever we’re together, you know?” she said, looking at Maru, who affirmed with a “That’s right.”

Is that so…

“Well, Narasaka’s puns are often pretty lame. I just reluctantly play along,” Maru said.

“What was that?”

“Jiguchi?” Ayase-san tilted her head, so Maru and I had to explain that it’s a type of wordplay where you replace a phrase with words that have a similar pronunciation.

“It actually takes a lot of brainpower if you think about it seriously,” Maru said, “but Narasaka’s are just simple puns.”

“The path of comedy is a harsh one! Amateurs start with puns!”

“What are you even aiming for…”

“Um… So, you mean you and Maru always have conversations like that when you’re together?” Ayase-san asked. They both nodded.

…That’s a high bar. Come to think of it, at Nishinomaru Garden, she had made those puns about Maru. I guess that’s how these two communicate.

“Ah, Tomo-kun, look! There’s no line there right now.”

“Hey, we’re about to have dinner… Wait, hold on.”

With no time for Maru to stop her, Narasaka-san dashed over to a small shop selling egg tarts.

“Egg tarts are a type of tart that’s popular in Asia,” Ayase-san explained. “They’re made with flour, butter, sugar, eggs, and milk… Why are you so surprised?”

“Well, I just didn’t really have the impression that you made sweets, Ayase-san.”

“My cooking is for self-sufficiency. As long as I get three nutritious meals, that’s enough. But when I look up recipes, they catch my eye. When you see the finished product, you can imagine what’s used in it, right?”

Even if she says that, for me, who has never even made a single pancake, it seems like a superpower.

“You’re exaggerating.”

“You think?”

While we were talking, I looked up egg tarts on my phone. An Englishman named Andrew came up with a recipe in 1989 that added his own twist to a Portuguese tart, and it became popular in Macau. I see, so that’s the name of that shop…

As usual, Narasaka-san was demonstrating her outstanding communication skills, chatting amicably with the sales clerk. She was even being encouraged to have one with her “boyfriend.” It was refreshing to see Maru get shy. They ended up being suckered into buying two each. Two tarts before dinner… she can really eat a lot.

“That kind of skit or manzai-like exchange,” Ayase-san murmured. I turned to look at her. “It’s like what you and Shiori-san do at your part-time job, right, Asamura-kun?”

I never intended to be doing a skit, though. “I feel like Yomiuri-senpai is just good at catching the end of my sentences and making jokes out of them.”

“I thought you two looked good together.”

“Wait, wait.” I turned to face her properly. For some reason, I felt like it was the right thing to do. “Being able to do manzai isn’t proof that you’re a couple. I think what Narasaka-san was saying was about using laughter as part of a couple’s playful banter. There are couples who are comfortable with silence.” Besides, I added with a slight smile, “If doing manzai together makes you a couple, then all the comedy duos from the show would be couples, right?”

Ayase-san fell silent, probably remembering the comedians we just saw. “All of those people…”

“Yes, they’re all couples. According to your theory, Ayase-san. They were a well-matched pair, weren’t they? At the end, they all came out and made a giant heart mark together for the finale.”

“…Pfft.” She let out a small laugh. “St-Stop it. Asamura-kun, why do you think of such weird things?” she giggled.

“Thanks for responding to my joke with a comeback. See? Just being able to properly make a comeback like that is probably good enough, isn’t it?”

Ayase-san’s mouth formed an “ah,” and then she groaned, “Ugh. But that’s because you’re the one making the joke, Asamura-kun.”

“You make jokes sometimes, too, you know Ayase-san.”

“I do!?”

She really doesn’t realize it, huh.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Narasaka-san and Maru came back with their egg tarts.

“We’re about to have dinner, but are you sure you’re okay?” I asked.

“Totally, totally!”

From there, Narasaka-san went on to enter a Chinese restaurant and finish off a bowl of ramen, to our astonishment.

And thus, the first day of our graduation trip came to an end.