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 - You're bad at lying — A FamilyMart night, a love that was seen through
That's wrong, she thought.
She understood it in her head. Those two drawing closer—that was what she'd wanted. And yet, why did something deep in her chest stir so restlessly?
Gundou Misuzu sat alone in the classroom after school, gazing out the window. The late-October sky shifted slowly from blue to violet as dusk crept in. The ginkgo trees along Aoba Slope were finally beginning to turn gold.
(So tomorrow's the culture festival.)
Misuzu narrowed her long, deep-brown eyes. The tear mole beneath her left eye stood out strangely in her reflection in the window glass. Unconsciously, she'd tilted her head—an old habit.
The classroom was empty.
The day before the culture festival. Most students were scrambling to finish preparations for their class or club. Misuzu's class exhibit had been more or less complete since yesterday. Which was why she sat here alone, staring out the window.
(...What am I even doing?)
Junichiro and Tomo were probably helping with Tomo's class preparations right about now. Junichiro had said Tomo invited him.
"Help me get ready for the culture festival."
Tomo's voice replayed in her head. Junichiro, dense as he was, always nodded so readily at times like that.
(Well, of course. You two are childhood friends, after all.)
Misuzu let out a small breath.
Just then, the classroom door slid open with a clatter.
"Misuzu!"
A familiar voice. She turned—Aizawa Tomo stood there. Her bright brown bob was slightly mussed from running. Her large amber eyes looked straight at Misuzu. A fang peeked out from the corner of her mouth.
"Tomo. What's got you in such a hurry?"
Misuzu stepped away from the window and walked toward her.
"Hey, sorry to ask, but could you give me a hand?"
Tomo scratched her head, looking a little embarrassed.
"Our class decorations are nowhere near done. And Junichiro got roped into the heavy lifting for the guys."
"My, isn't it rare for you to ask someone for help."
Misuzu let a smile play at the corner of her mouth.
"Shut up! Just come on!"
Tomo grabbed Misuzu's arm and dragged her out into the hallway.
"Hey, don't pull so hard."
Misuzu let herself be led to Class 1-3—Tomo's classroom.
Once inside, she saw that the decorations were indeed less than half finished. Origami flowers and colored-paper chains were piled mountain-high on the desks. At the back of the room, a large sheet of craft paper had been spread out, with some kind of drawing half-completed on it.
"That's quite a lot."
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
"Right? Our class's festival committee slacked off like crazy. Junichiro and I did most of this ourselves."
Tomo puffed out her chest proudly.
"You two did well. But can you finish all this by tomorrow?"
Misuzu tilted her head at the mountain of origami.
"We'll finish it!"
Tomo nodded with determination.
"All right, let's do this. Misuzu, help me connect those chains over there."
"Yeah, yeah."
Misuzu sat down and started linking the colored-paper chains. Tomo began working on the drawing again.
For a while, the two worked in silence.
Only the rustle of origami and the scratch of pens filled the classroom. From outside the window, the distant voices of students preparing their own classes drifted in.
Sunset light poured into the room.
"...Hey, Misuzu."
Tomo suddenly stopped her hand.
"What?"
Misuzu stopped too and looked at her.
Tomo, still staring at the craft paper, murmured quietly.
"I feel like... I haven't really told Junichiro that I like him properly."
Misuzu's fingers froze.
The paper chain slipped from her hand and fell onto the desk with a soft rustle.
"...What's this, all of a sudden?"
Misuzu asked, feigning calm.
"I mean, I've only confessed to Junichiro once, right? And that was back in middle school. And back then, he just said, 'I like you as my best friend.'"
Tomo smiled wryly.
"Since then, I haven't been able to say 'I like you' properly. We promised to walk the festival together, but even that—Junichiro was the one who asked me."
Tomo's voice trembled, just slightly.
Misuzu watched her profile.
The amber eyes shimmered in the sunset light, wavering. Her lips were slightly crooked, as if she were biting down on her fang.
(This girl has been carrying this all alone, hasn't she.)
(Unable to muster the courage to tell Junichiro how she feels one more time.)
Misuzu drew a deep breath.
"Tomo."
She looked straight into Tomo's eyes.
"This time, tell him properly. Make sure your feelings reach him."
Misuzu's voice was stronger than even she expected.
Tomo's eyes went wide.
"Misuzu..."
"Junichiro is far denser than you think. If you don't say it, he'll never figure it out—not in a hundred years."
Misuzu patted Tomo's shoulder.
"You're walking the festival with Junichiro, right? That's when you say it. Out loud, from your own mouth."
Tomo was silent for a moment.
But eventually, she nodded slowly.
"...Okay."
Her voice still trembled a little.
But her face was smiling.
A smile that showed her fang—happy, and yet somehow on the verge of tears.
Seeing that smile, Misuzu felt a small, sharp ache deep in her chest.
(What are you hurting for?)
(This is what you wanted, isn't it?)
(Tomo telling Junichiro how she feels.)
(That was my goal, wasn't it?)
Misuzu told herself this, over and over, in her heart.
But the pain didn't go away.
The sunset dyed the classroom orange.
Their two shadows stretched long across the floor.
"...All right, let's do this!"
Tomo stood up and turned back to the craft paper.
"Misuzu—thanks for helping me out."
She said it without turning around.
"Whatever. If I'd left you to do it alone, it would've been a disaster."
Misuzu went back to linking chains.
(Thanks, huh.)
(From Junichiro, from Tomo—all I ever get is thanks.)
(...And that's fine.)
Misuzu linked one sheet of colored paper, then another.
The sun sank lower.
The classroom grew gradually darker.
Eventually, Tomo's class decorations were just barely finished in time for tomorrow.
"Done!"
Tomo stretched her arms wide.
"Good work. Well then, I'll be heading home."
Misuzu stood and picked up her bag.
"Ah, wait a sec. Let's walk home together."
Tomo hurriedly started cleaning up.
"You've still got cleanup left, don't you? I'll go on ahead."
"It's fine! I'll be done in a flash!"
Tomo hastily tossed the remaining origami into a cardboard box.
Misuzu waited at the classroom door, giving in.
A few minutes later, Tomo came out with her bag on her shoulder.
"Sorry to keep you waiting!"
"Not at all. Come on, let's go."
The two walked side by side down the hallway.
They left the school building and descended Aoba Slope.
The ginkgo leaves floated faintly gold in the twilight. When the wind blew, they scattered, dancing down.
"Hey, Misuzu."
Tomo suddenly spoke up.
"I'm going to walk the culture festival with Junichiro."
Misuzu's heart skipped a beat.
(I know.)
(I saw it.)
(Junichiro asking you, on Aoba Slope.)
But Misuzu put on a smile.
"Oh, isn't that nice."
She turned to Tomo and grinned.
"You two are finally starting to look the part."
"The part?! What's that supposed to mean!"
Tomo's face went bright red, and she lightly smacked Misuzu's shoulder.
"That hurts, you idiot."
Misuzu brushed off Tomo's hand.
"So, Misuzu, you come too. Let's walk the festival—the three of us."
Tomo said it with an open, carefree smile.
Misuzu's words caught in her throat for a moment.
(The three of us?)
(Junichiro, Tomo, and me?)
(...Me, stepping between those two?)
Something creaked and groaned inside Misuzu's heart.
"Don't be silly. You two finally get to walk it together—why would I get in the way?"
Misuzu said it with her smile still intact.
"In the way? That's not..."
Tomo looked troubled.
"It's fine. I'll walk with Carol. You go enjoy yourselves—just the two of you."
Misuzu gave Tomo a gentle push on the back.
"...Okay. Thanks, Misuzu."
Tomo smiled, a little shy.
"Well, I go this way."
Misuzu stopped walking to part ways with Tomo.
"Yeah, see you tomorrow! You'd better come to the festival!"
Tomo waved and ran off toward her house.
Misuzu watched her go.
Tomo's figure melted into the twilight.
(There's no space left for me to squeeze into anymore.)
Misuzu murmured in her heart.
(Junichiro and Tomo.)
(Between those two flows an air that belongs only to them—something I don't know.)
(I just watch it from the outside.)
(It's always been that way.)
(And it always will be.)
Misuzu descended Aoba Slope and headed for the station.
Minagiha Station at night.
Several buses were parked in the rotary, passengers trickling out. The station lights cast the asphalt in white.
Misuzu entered the convenience store just outside the east exit.
She'd decided to buy something for dinner.
An onigiri and a sweet coffee.
As she stood in line at the register, a young male clerk glanced at her face.
(Is he going to tell me I look pale again?)
Misuzu unconsciously touched her cheek.
But the clerk said nothing, just bagged her items.
"Thank you."
Misuzu took the bag and started to leave.
That was when—
"My, Misuzu."
A soft, floaty voice came from behind her.
Misuzu turned.
Carol Olston stood in the store entrance. Her blonde, loosely waved long hair shone gold under the store lights. Her big sky-blue eyes blinked. When she smiled, small dimples appeared in her cheeks.
"Carol. What are you doing out at this hour?"
Misuzu's words were sharp, but she felt a little relieved.
"I came to buy tea. I was looking for chamomile tea to drink at night."
Carol smiled brightly and came to stand beside Misuzu.
"Do they even sell chamomile tea at convenience stores?"
Misuzu tilted her head.
"They do. Look, right over there."
Carol raised her pinky and pointed to a corner of the drink section.
"Huh. You're surprisingly savvy about convenience stores."
Misuzu was a little surprised.
"My! How rude. Even I use convenience stores, you know."
Carol puffed out her cheeks.
"Sorry, sorry. Well, once you've bought your things, let's leave together."
Misuzu said this and stepped away from the register.
Carol followed with a bottle of chamomile tea in hand.
"Misuzu, are you heading home now?"
Carol asked, falling into step beside her.
"Yes. You too, right?"
Misuzu stepped outside.
The night wind brushed cool against her cheeks.
"I feel like breathing the outside air a little longer before going home. Misuzu, would you keep me company for a bit?"
Carol gazed at Misuzu with her sky-blue eyes.
Misuzu hesitated for a moment.
But she had no reason to refuse.
"...Fine. Just a little."
Misuzu gave a small nod.
The two sat down side by side on a small bench in front of the convenience store.
A bus rolled slowly through the station rotary.
The streetlights cast their shadows on the ground.
For a while, the two sat in silence, gazing at the night city.
Carol raised her pinky and elegantly sipped her freshly bought chamomile tea.
Misuzu took an onigiri from the bag and bit into it.
"...Misuzu."
Carol spoke up abruptly.
"What?"
Misuzu looked at Carol while chewing her onigiri.
Carol, still facing forward, said quietly.
"Hey, Misuzu. Actually... aren't you in love with Jun too?"
Misuzu's hand stopped.
Her fingers froze around the onigiri.
Her heart gave a great leap.
(What did she just say?)
(This girl, just now, what did she—)
Misuzu turned slowly toward Carol.
Carol was watching her with the same unchanging smile.
Her sky-blue eyes glimmered quietly in the darkness of the night.
"...Don't be stupid. That's not it."
Misuzu denied it immediately.
"Why would I ever fall for someone like Junichiro? That dense, airhead who can't read a room and only ever looks at Tomo."
Misuzu rattled it off rapid-fire.
"But Misuzu, you're always watching Jun."
Carol tilted her head.
"I'm not watching him. That's just me tagging along with Tomo—nothing more."
Misuzu put the onigiri back in the bag and gripped it tight.
"I
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