Name Guessing Quiz

That night, after we finished the dinner Hayashi had prepared for us, we were each spending time in our own way.

The sound filling the room was from the TV. Normally, it would be mixed with the sound of the satisfying videos Hayashi watches, but today, that sound was absent.

When I glanced at Hayashi, she was looking at her ex’s graduation album, which he had found in his room.

Flipping through the thick pages one by one, Hayashi was quietly engrossed in it.

What could Hayashi be thinking as she looked at the graduation album? With her glasses on, gazing down at it absently, it was impossible to guess what was going through her mind.

“Heh.”

Hayashi suddenly smiled.

“Something funny in there?”

“No, I was just thinking how there’s barely any photos of you.”

“You were actually looking for pictures of me?”

“…Well, yeah.”

Hayashi turned away, looking a bit embarrassed. Her eyes darted aside, a dry smile on her face.

“Hey, why don’t we look at it together? It’s honestly pretty nostalgic, you know?”

Pretty nostalgic, huh?

That’s probably a feeling born from how much she enjoyed her high school days.

“The feeling of nostalgia comes from having experienced a parting.”

I said.

“What’s that? You’re being all roundabout again.”

“…Would you feel nostalgic recalling a conversation with someone you only met once, like when you made a bank card?”

“You’re seriously so convoluted.”

“You wouldn’t, right?”

“Hmm, I wonder?”

“You wouldn’t, right?”

“…Yeah.”

“Exactly. You wouldn’t. Because a parting with someone you’ve only met once isn’t recognized as a parting. In other words, nostalgia only arises after a parting that feels like a real parting. And for a parting to feel real, you need to have built a meaningful connection before it happens.”

“That’s a long-winded way to say it, but… you’re saying you didn’t have those kinds of connections in high school?”

“Pretty much.”

Ahem.

I struck a smug pose.

“Akari.”

At Hayashi’s words, I looked down.

…Right, that’s how it was.

With a sour expression, I moved to sit next to Hayashi.

When our shoulders brushed, Hayashi shifted a step away from me.

For a while, Hayashi flipped through the album slowly enough for me, sitting beside her, to follow along.

The graduation album started with an introduction to the school and its teachers, followed by a group photo of the faculty. Faces like Kakoagawa-sensei brought back memories.

…I never thought the day would come when looking at teachers’ photos would feel nostalgic.

After that came group photos of each class and individual portraits of classmates. Some people had gone all out with wild hairstyles for their album photos, which was kind of amusing.

Following the class photos were pictures from events spanning our first to third years.

First year: the entrance ceremony, the forest school trip.

Second year: the internship, the school trip.

Third year: mock exams.

Then there were the annual choir competitions and sports festivals. The cultural festival had its own dedicated pages for each year. Were they just trying to fill up space?

“Just to check, you were the head of the cultural festival committee in your third year, right?”

“Yeah. There’s a photo of the campfire, at least.”

“This one’s from when Akari got confessed to, isn’t it?”

“…Yeah.”

Was there really a point in bringing up Kasahara’s name here?

That moment stirred something in my heart, so I responded with an indescribable expression.

“And… the entrance ceremony. You were chosen to give the new student speech, right?”

“Yup. I’m actually pretty smart, you know.”

“Ugh, so annoying.”

Hayashi smiled.

“I totally forgot about that. But, like, isn’t this pretty much the only time you show up in the event pages?”

“…Well, I didn’t exactly go out of my way to stand out.”

The sports festival page.

Photos captured the so-called popular kids exercising in short-sleeved gym clothes. The composition was pretty well done. I was quietly impressed.

…But.

“Their training’s half-baked.”

Having been obsessed with working out for a while, I found their physiques lacking. Honestly, mine was probably better.

This might sound like bragging, but it’s undeniable fact.

“Now that you mention it, I think I saw you once at the school’s café during high school.”

“You mean Pablo’s?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s it! I remember now—you were heading into the gym. I tsked when I saw you, so it stuck in my mind. Haha!”

…Haha? Seriously?

“Wait, were you, like, into working out back then?”

“You nailed it.”

“Oh, you quit, right?”

“Why should I?”

“Because you’re so obsessive. It’ll come full circle and be bad for you.”

…Hearing the same reasoning as my parents, I just fell silent.

The album continued with the club activities section, and then it was over.

No, not quite.

There was a section on societal changes that happened during our high school years.

And on the final page…

Messages written in colorful highlighters and ballpoint pens.

“So nostalgic. We all wrote messages for each other, didn’t we?”

“Huh, you guys did that? Sounds like you were pretty close.”

“You guys…? Sorry, I won’t say any more.”

Well, “you guys” already gave me a pretty good idea.

You guys—as in, didn’t you write messages with your friends?

That’s probably what Hayashi meant to say.

And the reason she stopped herself—

It was painfully obvious.

No need to spell it out.

“Well, I’ve always been kind of aloof, you know.”

“Aloof? You just didn’t have any friends, right?”

“Pretty much.”

“Sorry. I ended up poking at your old wounds because of you.”

“Old wounds? You make it sound like I’m traumatized over not getting any messages in my graduation album.”

“Am I wrong? Sorry, you’re right. That’s not your style.”

Hayashi kept taking my words and twisting them into something harsher.

I get that she agrees, but I wish she’d consider my feelings a bit more.

“There’s photos of the campfire from second and third years, but none from first year.”

“Probably on purpose. Someone’s idea of a prank, maybe.”

“Maybe someone on the album committee really hated you.”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly well-liked.”

Hayashi went quiet.

Was she exasperated by my bluntness?

But with that lonely look on her face, maybe there was another reason for her silence.

Hayashi flipped back to the earlier pages of the album.

She stopped at the page with our class’s individual photos and group picture.

“Your eyes are half-closed.”

Pointing at the class group photo, Hayashi said.

“…I’ve always been bad at photos.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

“…Everyone looks so young.”

“Don’t talk like you’re some old lady reminiscing.”

“Can’t help it. It hasn’t even been a year, but so much has happened.”

“…True.”

“Do you actually remember the names and faces of our classmates?”

“Of course. They might not remember me, though.”

“Really? …Okay, then.”

Hayashi pointed at a girl’s photo in the album, deliberately covering the name with her other hand.

“What’s her name?”

“…Ugh.”

“See? I knew it. She’s my best friend, you know. I’m kinda pissed.”

“…No, wait, I got it. Ishida, right?”

I messed up.

Maybe I should’ve just said I didn’t know instead of answering.

When Hayashi’s eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed, I realized my mistake.

“Hold up, what happened between you and Icchan?”

“…N-Nothing happened.”

I turned away as I said it.

Of course, Hayashi wasn’t the type to buy such a flimsy excuse.