In Class 1-3, Aizawa Tomo and Kubota Junichiro are inseparable—and completely oblivious. Tomo's confession last summer was answered with "I like you too, as my best friend," and since then, nothing has changed. At least, not on the surface.
Gundou Misuzu has watched them since kindergarten, and she knows the truth: Tomo's feelings are love, and Junichiro's thick skull is the only thing standing in the way. After witnessing Tomo's failed confession by the riverbank, Misuzu made a silent vow—she
Misuzu Gondo Was Watching - Until I, the sharp-tongued meddler, get those two together
That's wrong, she thought.
She understood it in her head. There was no way those two's relationship could move forward on its own, somewhere beyond her sight. And yet—why did something deep in her chest stir like this?
Gundou Misuzu propped her elbow on the window frame, staring intently at the classroom next door. Her narrow, deep-brown eyes thinned to threads. She didn't notice the habit herself—the way her head tilted unconsciously to one side.
It was early September at Aoba Academy, a private school. The first week after summer break ended, the classrooms still had a restless, unsettled energy. Outside the window, the last cicadas were crying as if squeezing out the final dregs of their strength. Their voices only made the heat feel worse.
"...Zero progress, huh."
Misuzu muttered with just the corner of her lips. She didn't say it aloud. The venom was for her heart alone.
At the end of her gaze, Class 1-3. Aizawa Tomo was enthusiastically smacking Kubota Junichiro on the shoulder. Junichiro said something back, and Tomo laughed. A sun-bright grin, one fang peeking out. Junichiro laughed along with her, caught up in it.
That scene was exactly the same as it had been since kindergarten. So utterly unchanged that Misuzu's head was starting to ache.
"Those two sure are close again today, aren't they?"
A fluffy voice came from behind her, and Misuzu turned. Carol Olston approached, her blonde hair swaying. A transfer student from England, from a wealthy family. Her personality was as airy as her appearance.
"Close? At this point it's just two kids roughhousing."
Misuzu turned her gaze back outside. The tips of her black hair bounced slightly as she shook her head.
"Tomo-chan looks like she's having fun."
"She does. She'd have more fun if that thickheaded idiot would just keep his mouth shut."
Carol tilted her head. Her face said she had no idea what that meant. Misuzu couldn't be bothered to explain, and let out a small sigh.
This town—Minagiha City—was a regional city about forty minutes by train from the prefectural capital. Gentle hills rose to the north, and the Sakami River ran along the south. The east side of the station was the school district; the west side had a covered shopping arcade. Population around a hundred eighty thousand. An ordinary town, but with air just a little clearer than most.
The private Aoba Academy she attended sat at the top of a long uphill slope called Aoba Hill, about a twelve-minute climb from the station's east exit. Founded sixty years ago, six hundred forty students in all. Blazer uniforms, two-semester system. The culture festival was in late October, and everyone called it the Aoba Festival.
This morning, too, she had climbed that slope, sweating through September's lingering heat. Her legs, under black tights, felt faintly hot. The last traces of summer clung to her skin.
"Misuzu-chan, are you in a bad mood today?"
Carol peered at her with a worried look. Misuzu shook her head.
"Not really. Same as always."
"Really? Well, that's fine then."
Carol seemed satisfied, and smiled brightly. That innocence saved Misuzu, just a little.
—Same as always. Yes, same as always.
Misuzu looked at the neighboring classroom once more. Tomo gave Junichiro a light smack on the head, and Junichiro made a big show of being hurt. Between those two, there didn't seem to be a single millimeter of room for romance to squeeze in.
But that was wrong. Only Misuzu knew.
Tomo's feelings were, without a doubt, love.
Misuzu closed her eyelids. The classroom's clamor sounded like distant waves. The air-conditioning breeze brushed her nape, lukewarm.
—She remembered that day.
Summer break, mid-August. On the bank of the Sakami River at dusk.
Misuzu had been summoned by Tomo, and had assumed it was the three of them hanging out. But when she reached the riverbank, only two people were there—Tomo and Junichiro. Misuzu hid in the shade of a cherry tree a little ways off and watched them.
The sunset was dissolving into the river's surface. The cicadas rang so loud they hurt her ears.
"Junichiro, I've got something to tell you."
Tomo's voice was lower than usual, and trembling slightly.
"Yeah, what is it?"
Junichiro looked at Tomo's face, in his usual easy tone.
Tomo's fists were clenched tight. Her fingertips had gone white. After a long silence, Tomo said it all at once.
"I like you, Junichiro!"
Misuzu held her breath. Her heart pounded as if it were her own confession.
Junichiro blinked for a moment, then broke into a huge grin.
"Yeah, I like you too—as my best friend!"
—The look on Tomo's face in that instant.
Misuzu remembered it clearly even now. Those big amber eyes froze in a heartbeat. She tried to make a smile and failed. The corners of her lips twitched upward. That wasn't a smile. It was something else, wearing the shape of resignation.
"...Yeah. Best friends, huh."
Tomo said that and gave Junichiro's chest a light tap. The usual extension of their roughhousing. But Misuzu could tell. Tomo's fingertips were shaking.
Misuzu couldn't move from that spot. She thought she had to say something. But she didn't know what to say. That thickheaded idiot, she cursed in her heart. That was all she could do.
—From that day on, she decided.
She would absolutely get those two together.
She would never let Tomo's first love end like that. She would never let Junichiro's thick skull bury Tomo's feelings.
Misuzu slowly opened her eyes.
"Misuzu-chan, your face is scary."
Carol said timidly. Misuzu loosened her lips.
"It's fine. I'm just a little angry."
"At who?"
"...At some thickheaded someone."
Lunch break.
Misuzu sat on a bench in the courtyard with Tomo. Beside the little flowerbed, the farthest of the four benches. This was Tomo and Misuzu's usual spot.
Tomo was tearing into a bread she'd bought at the school store. Her bright brown short hair swayed softly in the wind. She was a hundred sixty-eight centimeters tall—ten centimeters taller than Misuzu. She belonged to the boys' karate club, and was strong enough to send even the school's delinquents flying with a single kick.
But that profile of hers was, as far as Misuzu knew, more awkward than anyone's.
"Misuzu, you've been kinda weird lately, haven't you?"
Tomo swallowed her bread and peered into Misuzu's face. Those big amber eyes fixed straight on her.
"Weird? In what way?"
"Like, spaced out or something. Did something happen with Junichiro?"
Misuzu's words caught for a moment. Surely Tomo hadn't figured out that she was worrying about Junichiro? No—that wasn't it. What Tomo was worried about was that Misuzu and Junichiro didn't get along.
"Nothing. I'm just irritated at that thickheaded idiot, same as always."
"Badmouthing Junichiro again, huh."
Tomo gave a wry smile. But behind that smile, Misuzu didn't miss the faint shadow that fell.
"...What about you? How've things been lately, with Junichiro?"
Tomo set down her bread and looked up at the sky. The September sky, caught between summer and autumn, was a slightly paler blue.
"Nothing. Same as always."
"I see."
Silence fell. The flowers in the bed swayed in the wind. From somewhere in the school, piano music drifted—a clumsy practice piece. Even so, it melted into the lunchtime air.
"Hey, Misuzu."
Tomo said, quietly.
"It's my fault for falling for him. Can't be helped."
Misuzu looked at Tomo. Tomo was still gazing at the sky. Her profile was smiling, but looked ready to cry.
"I know better than anyone how dense Junichiro is. He thought I was a boy until middle school, you know? Even now, I bet half of him still does."
"...I suppose."
"So it's my fault for liking him. It's not his."
—No. It's not your fault either. The one at fault is that thickheaded idiot.
Misuzu screamed it in her heart. But she couldn't say it aloud. It would mean denying Tomo's feelings. Because Misuzu knew Tomo's clumsy, single-minded devotion better than anyone.
"...You really are an idiot."
Misuzu said quietly.
"What the heck, that's harsh."
Tomo laughed. This time, it was a proper smile.
"But watching you like this makes me angry. Get angrier. Hit him. You could land three good ones on that thickheaded idiot easy."
"If hitting solved things, I'd have hit him ages ago."
Tomo took another bite of her bread. Watching her, Misuzu thought in her heart:
—I'll do something about it.
After school.
To catch Junichiro, Misuzu headed for the Class 1-3 room. Students on their way to club activities shuffled down the hallway. Misuzu pushed against the flow and stood in the classroom doorway.
"Kubota-kun, do you have a moment?"
Junichiro, packing his things by the window, looked up. His black hair was on the short side, still a little mussed from morning bedhead. His calm, dark-gray eyes reflected Misuzu.
"Gundou? What is it?"
Junichiro answered in a leisurely voice. He was a hundred seventy-five centimeters tall—just about right beside Tomo. Usually quiet, and popular with the girls. Indeed, the girls walking the hallway kept stealing glances at him.
But Misuzu knew. Inside, this guy was a total disaster when it came to romance.
"I need to talk to you. Come to the roof."
"The roof's off-limits."
"The lock's poorly managed. Didn't you know?"
Junichiro tilted his head. The gesture looked oddly childish. Misuzu cursed thickheaded idiot one more time in her heart.
Out on the roof, the wind was strong. The September wind still carried heat. Beyond the fence spread the townscape of Minagiha—the rotary in front of the station, the arcade's roof, and far off, the glint of the Sakami River's surface.
"So, what did you want to talk about?"
Junichiro said, leaning his back against the fence.
"What do you think of Tomo?"
Misuzu cut straight to it. Junichiro thought for a moment, then answered with a serious face.
"Tomo's an important best friend."
"...Best friend."
"Yeah. She's the most important person to me."
Misuzu stared hard at Junichiro. Her narrow eyes thinned to threads. The tear mole beneath her left eye looked darker in the sunset.
"Have you ever seen Tomo as a girl?"
This time Junichiro thought for a long while. His brow furrowed. He was seriously agonizing over it. That seriousness was, perversely, infuriating.
"...I dunno."
Junichiro finally answered that way.
"You don't know?"
"Tomo's Tomo. I never thought about whether she's a girl or a boy or whatever. When she wears a skirt, I just think, isn't she cold?"
Misuzu was speechless. Seeing a skirt and worrying whether she's cold. That was this man's honest impression. There was no malice. He was simply, genuinely oblivious.
"...How have you even survived this long?"
"Why's that?"
Junichiro looked genuinely wounded. That expression was so pure that Misuzu felt anger—and at the same time, something else stirring deep in her chest.
—What is this feeling?
Misuzu ignored it. Pretended not to notice. That wasn't what she should be thinking about now.
"Listen. You need to properly see Tomo as a girl. That girl is far more of a girl than you think."
Junichiro, cowed by Misuzu's ferocity, gave a small nod.
"...Got it. I'll think about it."
"Think about it properly. With that head of yours."
Misuzu flung the words and left the roof behind. The wind swayed the hem of her black skirt.
—Why am I trying so hard?
She knew the answer. For Tomo. To make Tomo's first love come true.
But Junichiro's "I dunno" lingered in her ears and wouldn't leave.
Night.
After getting home, Misuzu finished her homework, and before she knew it she was lying on her futon fiddling with her phone. Her mother was watching TV in the living room. The house was quiet.
She was a little hungry. Misuzu set down her phone and picked up her wallet and house key.
"I'm just going to the convenience store."
"Okay, be careful."
With her mother's voice behind her, Misuzu left the house.
The night air held the day's heat but was a little cooler. From the Gundou house part
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