May arrived, bringing with it a faint, summer-like mugginess.
This season, when people talk about “May disease,” I have to start rebuilding my body, which has grown sluggish since the start of the year.
And so, on the first day of the nine-day Golden Week holiday, I find myself in the large hall of the community center used by the neighborhood association.
The light, pleasant melody of a dragon flute fills the air, and I perform my dance almost unconsciously, moving in time with it.
As I do, my eyes occasionally catch sight of a red-haired girl, and for no particular reason, I find myself drawn to her.
There’s no one else in this room besides me and her.
Hino Hana, playing the dragon flute while slowly wandering under the direct breeze of the air conditioner, wears an expression of utter seriousness.
Through the mirror on the wall, her eyes meet mine, and they seem almost… amused.
Unlike a certain childhood friend, Hino Hana is actually quite fond of fashion.
Today, she’s wearing an off-shoulder shirt with a cardigan draped over it, paired with sweatpants.
Her long legs and good proportions give her a refined allure, despite her petite frame.
Honestly, I wish a certain childhood friend would take a page out of her book.
That aside, how long have we been practicing here without a break, dancing like this?
The kagura dance I perform in the summer is called Kumotennei, a sequence of twenty pieces.
It’s an offering to the gods, praying for a bountiful harvest in the fall.
May the clouds be gentle, and the heavens’ blessings abound.
By the way, on New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day, I also perform kagura at a local shrine called Kamikumoyama, though the pieces and prayers differ.
On festival days, the shrine grounds host prayers and kagura performances, while nearby, countless stalls line the streets, and fireworks light up the large park plaza.
The New Year’s performances aren’t too intense, and the number of pieces is fewer, but for some reason, the summer festival dances are vigorous and last much longer.
There’s no break during the performance, and the traditional instruments—flutes, drums, and the like—are played by over a dozen people who rotate in and out, changing with each piece.
Honestly, it’s insane that Hino Hana can memorize it all by herself.
And the dance? I have to perform every single one on my own.
It feels like sprinting a hundred meters for two hours straight. No matter how many years I’ve done it, I need months to condition my body, or I’d never make it through a summer night in a miko outfit.
Suddenly, a sharp beep-beep-beep rings out from my smartphone.
The alarm signals an abnormal heart rate.
I stop moving, and Hino Hana lifts her lips from the flute.
The wristband synced to my phone displays my blood pressure and heart rate—both exceeding 200.
“Yikes…”
I mutter dazedly, and all of a sudden, a towel is draped over my head.
“Ngh.”
“Take off your shirt and wipe down, yeah?”
Hino Hana’s words make me realize just how much I’m sweating.
It’s hard to believe I’m in a room with a functioning dehumidifier—I’m drenched.
While dancing, I hadn’t noticed a thing.
For a moment, I hesitate to strip down to my bare torso in front of Hino Hana, but at this point, it’s hardly the first time.
I peel off my long-sleeve tee and undershirt, wiping the sweat from my body.
Glancing at Hino Hana, I see her folding her cardigan and setting it aside before heading to the community center’s kitchen.
She grabs a sports drink from the fridge, stocked with an absurd amount of alcohol, and tosses it to me.
“Whoa, careful… Don’t throw a one-liter bottle!”
“Himura, what about lunch?”
“You’re just gonna ignore me?”
“Bugs? Where?”
You’re the one who’s insect-level, you know.
No, scratch that—bugs might actually think more than you do.
Please, just have a proper conversation with me.
“Haa, lunch… convenience store’s fine.”
“No way, too expensive.”
You’ve got way more money than me, you big-shot.
“Oh, let’s order delivery!”
That’s even more expensive! What’s with you?
If I voice my retort, it’ll just spiral into something complicated, so I settle for a sigh.
I glance out the window for no particular reason and notice it’s raining. For May, it’s unusually warm, and the rain only adds to the muggy atmosphere.
Shifting my gaze back, I see Hino Hana using a smartphone identical to mine—same color, model, and case. She’s probably checking for nearby delivery options.
“…Wait, that’s my phone…!”
She’s using it so casually, I didn’t even realize it wasn’t hers.
How the hell does she just unlock my phone like it’s nothing?
“Where’s the delivery app…?”
“Don’t have one. I usually cook for myself.”
Also, you’re a better cook than me, aren’t you?
Both of Hino Hana’s parents work in the culinary world. Her mother’s a dietitian, and her father runs a Michelin-starred restaurant, if I recall.
Naturally, she’s inherited their talent and is a phenomenal cook. Which makes it all the more baffling that she veered off into music instead…
She said it’s because she loves it, but I’ve never heard the specifics of why she fell for it.
As I shoot her a suspicious glare, she suddenly looks up and turns toward the room’s entrance.
“…What’s up?”
“Someone’s here.”
It’s raining outside, and the air conditioner’s hum should drown out even the sound of passing cars, yet she somehow picked up on noises from the distant front door in this sealed room.
Hino Hana’s ability to distinguish sounds is freakishly sharp. Having known her since we were kids, I’m used to it, but…
When you think about it calmly, what kind of hearing does this girl have?
I slip my shirt back on and wait. Sure enough, someone enters the room. That person is—
“Oh… are you on a break?”
“Nanami?”
It’s Kaori. Unlike Hino Hana, who’s stylish even on a day like this, Kaori’s in full-on tracksuit mode. For today, her outfit might actually be the more sensible choice.
No, that’s not important right now.
“Kaori, how’d you know we were here?”
“Huh? How? Hitomi-san just told me.”
Hitomi—that’s my mom’s name.
What’s she doing? She’s not supposed to talk about me to outsiders.
Sure, Kaori’s a childhood friend, so she knows most of the details about the kagura dances, but she’s never been involved in our practices or rehearsals.
I thought she had enough sense to respect that boundary…
“I figured you hadn’t eaten lunch yet, so I brought some stuff. There’s a kitchen here, right?”
“As expected of Nanami, so considerate.”
Hino Hana doesn’t seem bothered by it. I don’t have any issues with Kaori herself, but rules are rules, even if it’s just for show.
Hino Hana checks the contents of the eco-bag Kaori brought and heads to the kitchen with it.
“Oh, you can rest. I’ll handle it.”
“It’s fine, I’m not tired.”
For someone who does concert tours, playing the dragon flute for nearly two hours straight doesn’t even faze her.
Not that I, who danced nonstop to match her, have any room to talk. Still, what kind of stamina does she have?
She once boasted that “when I’m doing something I love, I don’t really get tired.” Maybe this is part of that.
As I stare blankly at the two of them chatting amicably in the kitchen, I suddenly notice something.
There’s a twenty-centimeter height difference between them, and as Kaori looks down at Hino Hana, her expression doesn’t seem particularly cheerful.
“Kaori, you feeling okay?”
“Huh? W-What? I’m fine…”
“Just a feeling.”
It didn’t seem like my imagination, but if she’s not feeling great, she can leave the lunch prep to Hino Hana.
“Well… don’t push yourself, alright?”
At my words, Kaori pulls out a hand mirror to check her appearance.
Looks like she’s still carrying around the one I gave her.
“That’s rare. Nanami with a fancy compact mirror.”
“Oh, this? Ao-kun gave it to me.”
From there, the two stand side by side in the kitchen, chatting about me, school, and all sorts of things while preparing lunch.
I never really pictured the two of them being this close.
Watching them, I feel a strange sense of novelty, as if time is moving slowly.
“Hey, I’ve always wanted to ask, Toki-chan—why’d you get into music?”
Maybe the conversation led there, but Kaori casually tosses the question at Hino Hana.
Hino Hana, as expressionless as ever, answers in an even flatter tone than usual.
“Because I admired someone. The first time I saw them, I wanted to stand by their side.”
“Oh, really? Who was it?”
“That’s a secret.”
I’ve never heard that story before… but setting that aside, one thing strikes me, just like it does Kaori.
“…You? Feeling admiration for someone?”
“What do you think I am, Himura…?”
“It’s like, your ideal person, right? I can’t even imagine it.”
“Not quite ideal. The person I met as a kid still feels like the most captivating person in my life, so I just want to stand in the same place as them.”
“…So, if you found something—or someone—more captivating, you’d want to chase that instead, right?”
“Maybe, if that happened.”
As expected, she’s the type who lives on instinct and impulse. But she never slacks on effort or passion, so I can’t say a word against her on that front.
“But for about ten years, my admiration hasn’t changed.”
As she says this, Hino Hana’s eyes are fixed on me. I don’t know who she admires, but I wonder if they’re really more captivating than her, wearing that rare smile.
Why do people who throw themselves fully into what they love always seem so cool?
For lunch, Hino Hana and Kaori whip up a dish of pork with salt sauce over rice, paired with Chinese soup. After eating, we rest for an hour, do some stretches, and resume practice.
Hino Hana stays with me until the last possible moment before her train, and by evening, we cool down and head home with Kaori.
☆Afterword──────────────────
We’ve hit 200,000 page views—thank you all so much. I’m grateful to be able to share good news like this with every chapter.
Also, we made it to 10th place in the overall weekly rankings. I always thought sci-fi and fantasy dominated those, so it feels a bit out of place, doesn’t it? (lol)
