My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong As Expected

Page 542

Volume XIV, Prelude 4

We talked a lot.

Spring break plans, where to go, and so on—these are all things to do.

I already knew that she was clumsily trying to change the subject in her own way.

The way he changed the subject was quite clumsy, and his smile was unnatural. It was really awkward.

Despite being good at everything else, she is not good at lying, dodging questions, or telling the truth.

If only things could stay like this forever. But time flies, the temperature drops slightly, there are fewer and fewer pedestrians in front of the station, and we have less and less to talk about. Eventually, we won't even be able to catch the tram anymore, and then neither of us will be able to go anywhere.

I really want to pretend I didn't find out about this and chat about pleasant topics unrelated to it, just like before.

Actually, I think it's fine to keep it this way.

If my wish can be fulfilled as she said, that would be great.

However, this alone cannot satisfy or satisfy me.

"...There are so many things I want to do."

I looked up at the building that was gradually darkening and murmured to myself. She echoed me softly, her breath sounding like a smile.

"yes."

"Yes. I want to do it all, I want it all."

Then, I moved a little closer, touched her shoulder, and leaned my head against hers, as if I were about to fall asleep.

"...I'm greedy, so I want it all. I even want to accept Yukino's feelings."

Because I'm greedy.

I love happy things, pleasant things, and wonderful things. I'm not good at cooking, nor am I good at making desserts, but I don't hate it at all. I want to add all kinds of ingredients and try different combinations. Even if I fail, no matter how hard I am to swallow, it doesn't matter.

So, let's ask again.

If she says nothing, I won't say anything either. If she does say something, I will say it too.

I understand that this is cunning.

But she, he, and I were all equally cunning. We were all cunning. Even knowing it was impossible, even knowing it wouldn't come true, we still greedily hoped our wishes would come true.

However, I'm probably the greediest one.

Sweet, bitter, painful, sad.

And the scars and the pain, I want them all.

I looked up and faced her directly. At a distance where our faces were almost touching, I looked into her eyes.

"...So, tell me how you feel."

The moment she uttered those words, she exhaled a breath that seemed hesitant and confused, her eyes wavering with unease.

Her soft lips parted slightly, her long eyelashes trembled slightly, and she showed an expression as if she was about to cry.

But I couldn't take my eyes off it.

In the past, I always refused to look, pretending not to notice or know. But I can't pretend anymore, so I choose to gaze at her silently.

I gazed at her beautiful hair, her bright eyes, and her snow-white cheeks.

She closed her mouth as if biting her lip, then glanced around.

There was almost no one else at the station besides us; not a soul could be seen within earshot of us. Even so, she seemed to care about others, gently leaning her shoulder against us. That hesitant movement was like that of a kitten.

Then, she put her hand to her mouth and whispered just one sentence.

That's probably something I don't want to hear.

But after hearing it, I still couldn't help but laugh.

Cheeks, corners of the mouth, and perhaps even the eyes all softened uncontrollably.

She quickly left me, her expression a mixture of fear and unease, her face flushed so brightly it was visible even in the darkness.

Seeing her expression, I felt conflicted from the bottom of my heart.

I wish I could hate her.

× × ×

I said it out loud.

I actually said it out loud.

I clearly didn't intend to say it.

Because I know that once the words are spoken, once the truth is admitted, there will be no going back. Things that have been wrapped in a thin film will burst open in an instant, like water overflowing, like a fully inflated balloon being scratched with a needle.

So I pressed my lips together tightly. I knew that all I had to do was swallow those words back.

However, her gaze wouldn't allow me to do so.

This is probably the first time I've said something like this to someone, and it will definitely be the last.

With the intention of telling only her, I opened my trembling lips and, in a weak, trembling voice, uttered a sentence as if in repentance.

What kind of expression would she make? How would she respond? I looked over anxiously, and a warm smile appeared on her face.

Then, without saying a word, he nodded slightly.

Even though it was the first time I'd spoken, she seemed to have already sensed it. Even so, she still waited for me to speak.

"Well then, I'll say it too."

She closed her eyes, placed one hand on my shoulder, and brought the other hand to her mouth, slowly leaning her face closer.

Gel nails on slender fingertips, pink cheeks with a touch of blush, delicate and full lips, and slightly curled eyelashes.

Her cuteness, her style, her beauty—all of these are slowly coming closer.

It's as if it's about to kiss me.

This inopportune thought suddenly made me feel embarrassed, and I couldn't help but want to back away. But I managed to restrain myself and moved my face closer.

Then, she whispered in my ear like a puppy playfully biting someone.

That must be what I've always wanted to hear.

I breathed a sigh of relief, swallowed back the words that almost slipped out, and nodded quietly.

She released my shoulder, creating some distance between us. When our eyes met, she smiled shyly and touched the bun on her head.

"Our wishes are probably the same."

"……Um."

Perhaps this is the only thing that can be confirmed.

However, achieving this wish perfectly is far too difficult. Therefore, I chose the closest possible form. I believe that one day, when I can do it better, I will definitely be able to achieve it.

I nodded with a heart almost like a prayer, but she gently shook her head.

I didn't understand what she was denying, and asked with my eyes. She said something completely different.

"The same goes for autistic men."

The sudden appearance of her name made me freeze instantly. She placed her hand on mine to help me relax.

"He probably doesn't want you to give up anything."

Her tone was casual, yet it pierced my heart deeply. My shoulders, which had been slumped without my noticing, suddenly lifted my head; she was already gazing at the distant, now-ceaseless starry sky.

"The distance between us isn't physical. Even if we go to faraway places, even if we can't see each other... it can't change the distance in our hearts."

"……Yeah?"

"Yeah, I guess... once your heart changes, no matter how close you are, it will feel very far away."

I heard those words from a place closer than anyone else.

Their hands, which were originally just clasped together, have somehow become entwined.

The little fingers are gently hooked together, as if making a promise.

The contact area was not large, the body temperature was not high, and the air temperature was not low.

However, the buzz did indeed get through.

"Since we share the same wish, why don't you accept my sentiments as well?"

"Yes. Definitely."

Because if we do that, there will definitely be a way to maintain the status quo—she said briefly.

If only things really wouldn't change.

I exchanged words and feelings with her, and with a prayerful heart, I silently closed my eyes.

I will never forget that warmth.

Therefore, the chill when that hand was released must be unforgettable.

Volume 14, Chapter 4: And so, Yukino Yukinoshita quietly waved goodbye.

The early spring sunlight streamed through the window.

In the solemn atmosphere, occasional sobs that could not be suppressed could be heard.

The people standing before me were wearing uniforms with a black base.

I turned my head slightly and saw that everyone around me was dressed in formal attire. If it weren't for the fact that it was in the school's gymnasium, it would probably look more like a funeral.

However, the eight characters "Graduation Certificate Award Ceremony" hanging high on the stage, and the corsages worn by the people in the front row, added a touch of color to the whole scene, telling us that this was an occasion worth celebrating.

The female students, shoulder to shoulder and hand in hand with their friends, exhaling softly to avoid crying out loud, were the embodiment of parting. Because they were reluctant to part with their three years of high school youth, they naturally exuded a similar atmosphere.

However, that celebratory atmosphere only existed between the parties involved. For an outsider like me, it was merely being forced to watch others grieve. I had absolutely no connection with the senior students and could only be trapped in a folding chair, dozing off for two or three hours.

Watching people embark on new journeys on this auspicious day doesn't make me particularly sentimental. To me, graduation is simply an event to witness people being freed from long-term constraints.

However, I wasn't completely unmoved or unaffected by any emotional fluctuations. I felt a little bit of the same way.

Upon leaving this school, they will be stripped of their high school student status and their childhood. Despite their passion being tied to chairs and their dreams being worn down by coursework, they still have to graduate from this system. Whether they were called "brat" as children, "delinquents" in their teens, or were as sharp as knives, capable of hurting anyone who touched them, they are all the same. In their graduation photos, they will gradually change with the flow of people.

Most of the students present will likely continue their studies, allowing them to delay entering the workforce for a few more years. Even so, the way the world treats university students differs from that of high school students. This is merely probation; they will eventually be removed from sanctuary and protection just like before.

Thinking about this, it all seemed so different; the students, all dressed in the same uniform, lined up like goods waiting to be shipped. Once this thought crossed my mind, the silence in the room began to send chills down my spine.

I think I had similar thoughts last year. Without my phone, there are very few ways to kill time; at most, I can only let my mind wander to pointless things. Last year, I played rock-paper-scissors with myself. How will I kill time next year…?

Wait a minute. Come to think of it, my graduation ceremony is next year.

I see. I was wondering why our school required lower-grade students to attend the graduation ceremony, but now I finally understand.

This is to let us know that the remaining time is finite.

An unknown VIP on stage is giving a speech.

I ignored those words and secretly turned my head away.

Certainly, perhaps, probably.

I will probably never see most of these people again after they graduate.

Among the students in each class, separated by gender and lined up by surname, how many will meet again after graduation?

As long as we stay in touch, we'll always find a way to meet. But knowing my personality, I probably won't take the initiative. The more I adapt to a new environment, the less I look back. Although I don't know if I can adapt to a new environment, at least most of the people around me do.

I'll just pick someone who's within my sight, like Totsuka Saika. I'll probably chat with him every now and then to maintain some contact. Like right now, he's the first person I look at!

Then, I also happened to see the Minister of Revenue sitting next to him. As for the Minister of Revenue, well, he definitely wouldn't keep in touch. Besides, I have no idea how to contact him.

Hayato Hayama, who lives next door to the Ministry of Revenue—that is, to my left—has unilaterally obtained my contact information. However, he probably won't contact me specifically. Even if I do get a message from him, I'll definitely have the standard reaction of a young man in love, hesitating, "If I reply immediately, will it be seen as me wanting to chat..." In the end, I definitely won't reply and will just leave it alone.

To be honest, Hayama knowing my contact information wasn't my intention. I only gave him my phone number because I had a chance encounter with Orimoto Kaori and needed to resolve the trouble that arose from it. I still don't know how to contact him.

As a result, Hayama did something stupid: he gave my phone number to Yono without my permission. Thanks to him, I got into unnecessary trouble.

Thinking about it makes me uncomfortable. I glared at Ye Shan.

Hayama noticed me looking at him and asked with his eyes what was wrong. I think I accidentally looked too far ahead.

I shook my head to indicate that I was fine, and then looked into the distance.