Hayashi Megumi’s Sneeze

A serene scene unfolded before my eyes. The high school classroom at dusk. Amid the bustling noise of the school, I was staying late, alone, for supplementary lessons.

Back in high school, people called me the queen, but despite my haughty attitude toward others, I put in decent effort with my studies. So, these extra lessons weren’t because I was slacking off academically; they were because I’d missed school due to feeling unwell.

As a result, I was attending these lessons with a sulky attitude.

If I was sick, it couldn’t be helped, right? Cut me some slack. From the teacher’s perspective, I was probably just coming up with baseless complaints.

By the time I finished the lessons, it was late enough that Akari and Ichi had probably already gone home, so I reluctantly started heading back alone.

That’s when I ran into him at the school gate.

“Yo, Hayashi, that you?”

Yamamoto called out to me.

I didn’t even bother responding and tried to brush past him. There’s no need to explain the state of our relationship back then.

Yamamoto didn’t seem to care that I was ignoring him.

“Take care getting home.”

“What, you a teacher now? Gross…”

It’s unthinkable now, but back then, just talking to Yamamoto made me feel irritated, and I don’t even know how many times I called him gross.

That day, too, I could’ve just left it at that snarky remark and gone home.

But for some reason, I got a little curious about why Yamamoto was still at school. He was usually one of the first to leave.

“Aren’t you going home?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I guess.”

“So why’re you still here?”

“Does it matter? It’s my business.”

Fair enough.

But back then, I couldn’t stand Yamamoto not bending to my words.

“No, it’s not fine. Knowing you, you’re probably up to no good.”

To Yamamoto, it must’ve felt like an unfair accusation.

“Up to no good or not, do I need to explain myself to you?”

Now, I can see that’s just how Yamamoto thinks—outsiders should mind their own business—but back then, his words really got under my skin.

“See? You are planning something weird, aren’t you?”

Yamamoto went quiet. It wasn’t so much that he was at a loss for words; he probably just didn’t see the point in arguing.

He might’ve even regretted calling out to me in the first place.

“I’m telling a teacher.”

I could tell Yamamoto’s face soured.

Looks like that hit the mark.

“…There was a love letter.”

Yamamoto said it like he was giving in.

“Huh?”

“A love letter. You know, a confession note.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It said to wait here until after club activities are done.”

“…It’s probably a fake confession.”

Someone confessing to Yamamoto of all people?

Back then, I genuinely believed no one would ever have a crush on him. So I didn’t doubt it was a prank.

And, well, the next day, the whole grade was buzzing about the fake confession to Yamamoto, so I wasn’t exactly wrong.

But looking back, I realize my words were incredibly rude.

They were the kind of thoughtless remark that could hurt someone like Yamamoto, who was trying to face the situation with sincerity.

“If it’s fake, then it’s fake.”

“Tch, acting all tough.”

“…I’d rather be humiliated than hurt someone else.”

Back then, I just thought Yamamoto was putting on a brave face.

His stubborn attitude annoyed me, so I snorted and left.

But thinking back now…

That fake confession fiasco happened around the summer of our third year. Right around the time Yamamoto was dating Akari.

If that’s the case, maybe his words weren’t just bravado…

Why am I dreaming about this now?

I know it’s a dream. Sometimes you just know the scene you’re seeing is a dream.

This is a dream.

Why am I having this dream now?

It’s probably because, unlike back then, my feelings for Yamamoto have grown so much inside me.

Because I’ve come to cherish the time I spend with him.

…And.

When I woke up, Yamamoto was still asleep.

Normally, he’d already be up, cleaning the house while making weird noises.

Maybe being back at his parents’ place for the first time in a while made him relax.

Or maybe he was just so exhausted he couldn’t get up at his usual time.

“Why aren’t you awake, you idiot?”

Last night, we ended up sleeping in the same bed.

He fell asleep first.

Leaving me behind.

…He just passed out.

I did it out of spite.

He’s always the one who wakes up first.

I thought it’d be funny to see him flustered when he woke up.

But why, of all days, did it have to be like this…

Why did I have that dream?

Because my feelings for Yamamoto keep growing.

Because the time I spend with him has become so precious.

And because, back then and even now…

I’m still so frustrated that Yamamoto never does what I want.

“Achoo!”

Maybe sleeping in a bed that hadn’t been used in months made my nose itch.

Lately, I’ve been listening to Mr. Children’s “Dry Kiss” and “Kuchi ga Subette” a lot. I only really started appreciating them last year. Makes me think I’ve grown up a bit.

Is an afterword supposed to be where the author talks about their favorite artists and songs?

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