My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong, As I Expected: After Story ―And So, the Snow Falls Quietly― - And so, he chooses again.

The service club room was filled with the cold air of a winter morning. Hikigaya Hachiman sat on a pipe chair by the window, absently gazing at the zelkova tree in the courtyard. Its bare branches thrust countless sharp lines toward the gray sky. An hour ago, a short message from Yukinoshita Yukino had arrived on his smartphone. *"I'm heading to school now. Please wait for me in the club room."* Those words alone told him, with the force of intuition, that something bad had happened. The fact that she would ask him to *wait for her* — that, in itself, was something she had almost never done before. —*Creak.* The door opened, tearing through the silence. "...Good morning, Hachiman." Standing there was Yukinoshita Yukino. Her glossy black hair reached down to her waist, her skin was so pale it seemed almost transparent, and her eyes were a cold, clear blue. That flawless beauty, the kind anyone would lose themselves admiring, was now painfully undone. Her hair, usually impeccably neat, was left unkempt, still disheveled by the cold morning wind. Beneath it, her face was pale, and the skin around her eyes was red, as if she had been crying her heart out. "What happened?" I asked, forcing myself to sound as calm as possible. Yukino gave no answer. She walked into the club room with unsteady steps and, instead of taking her usual spot, sat down in the chair right next to mine. Close enough that our coats nearly brushed against each other. I could see her delicate shoulders trembling faintly. Her hand touched my arm, as if seeking help. Her fingertips were cold as ice. "I... I've lost my place to go home to." It was a thin voice, on the verge of vanishing. "The management company for my apartment contacted me this morning. They said the contract has been terminated, and I have to move out by the end of this month." It was a follow-up blow from that woman — her mother, the absolute ruler of the Yukinoshita family. Yesterday's phone call hadn't been a mere threat after all. Hikigaya desperately swallowed the rage rising inside him. "That apartment was the first place I ever had that was truly my own. No interference from my sister, no expectations from my mother — a place just for me... And now, it's being taken away so easily..." Her words dissolved into quiet sobs. All I could do was hold her, fragile as she was, on the verge of breaking. The frustration of it was unbearable. I had nothing — nothing at all — that could stand against the power of the Yukinoshita family. (*Can I really do nothing?*) For a moment, Hikigaya considered suggesting that Yukino come stay at his house. But even if he voiced it, she would never nod in agreement. Her pride — and her kindness, which feared dragging others into her problems more than anything — would refuse it. Though they were in the same place, holding each other, a vast wall stood between them. In their desperate desire to protect each other, they both kept running away from the most fundamental choice of all: to *live together*. That anguish pressed down heavily in the silent room. Only the weak winter sunlight filtered in through the window. How much time passed, he couldn't say. *Knock, knock.* A light, cheerful rapping shattered the frozen silence. "Senpai, I'm coming in~" The one who appeared was Isshiki Iroha, her flaxen medium bob swaying. She instantly sensed the strange atmosphere in the club room, her large, bright eyes widening slightly — but she immediately plastered on her usual calculating smile. "Oh my, Yukino-senpai, you're here too. Well, well — were we interrupting something?" "No... What do you want?" I answered in a voice that was openly sullen. Iroha, seemingly unbothered by my attitude, waved the clear file in her hand back and forth. "It's the best kind of news. Well — it's more like the story of how one adorable kouhai single-handedly turned around a situation everyone thought was hopeless." So saying, she pulled a single proposal sheet from the clear file and spread it out on the desk. Written across it in colorful marker were the words: *"Operation: Handmade Prom!"* "What's this about?" "Exactly what it says. We couldn't get the community center. The budget is still frozen. So — why not just create the venue and the budget ourselves?" Her tone shifted, shedding its usual cat-like politeness and taking on a faint heat. "The venue will be the gymnasium. We'll give up on professional sound and lighting and get help from the Broadcasting Club, the Art Club, and the Computer Club. For decorations, we'll reach out to the Home Economics Club and the Handicrafts Club, and we'll solicit material donations — basically, we'll gather volunteers from the entire student body. Even with zero budget and zero authority, we can build a prom from nothing, using nothing but people's goodwill and motivation. That's the plan." "...That's way too reckless." The words of denial left my mouth instantly. "You think that kind of idealism can do anything about Haruno's interference? How much cooperation do you really think you can get from the students? And anyway, with a plan full of so many uncertainties—" "Then let me ask you something." Iroha cut me off sharply. Her large eyes stared straight into my own rotten, fish-like ones. The usual impish calculation in those eyes had vanished completely, replaced by nothing but pure anger and sadness. "Senpai, isn't it that you just want to solve this problem in a way where no one gets hurt? Your usual way — ending everything by being the only one who gets hurt. But... is that really the *genuine thing* the Service Club has been searching for all this time?" Her words pierced my chest like a blade. "Drawing the curtain with self-sacrifice — that's not 'no one getting hurt.' That's just you running away from genuinely hurting each other with someone. Standing on equal ground with someone, clashing with them for real, getting hurt, and still trying to build something together — isn't that what a genuine relationship is supposed to be?" Iroha's voice was trembling. It was as if the words she had spoken to Hachiman were wounding her as well. Hachiman couldn't say a word in reply. She was right. Even as I told Yukino we would "fight together," in the end, I had been trying to escape into the ego of self-sacrifice, alone. I had been trying to solve the problem in a way where no one got hurt. That was nothing less than running away from truly facing Yukino — the girl trembling right beside me. A heavy silence was about to descend on the club room once again. That was when— "—Isshiki-san is absolutely right." A clear voice rang out, carrying a firm, unwavering will. Standing before the open door was Shiromeguri Meguri. Her jet-black hair, straight as silk, reached down to her waist, and her cool, narrow violet eyes held a quiet intensity. She bowed her head deeply. The gesture was filled with a fierce determination one could scarcely imagine from her usual self. "Yukinoshita-san — everyone. Please, allow me to atone for my powerlessness in failing to stop Haruno-san's outrageous actions. I was used by Haruno-san. I committed the most foolish of errors — allowing my own goodwill, my desire to protect you, to become a blade that cornered you instead." She lifted her head. Tears had gathered in her narrow eyes. "But I will not let her steal any more of your future. I mobilized the entire alumni network. As a result, we have secured the March opening at the community center, Lumière Chiba, free of charge. The pressure from the Yukinoshita family to snatch the reservation was forcibly blocked by our alumni. Furthermore, a designer acquaintance of mine has agreed to provide all the decoration materials at no cost." She paused there, walked over to stand before Yukino, and wrapped both hands around hers. "I admired you. And I wanted to surpass you. But I went about it in completely the wrong way. This time, please — let me be on your side. Let me fight alongside you. This is my ego. But this time, I want to use that ego for something right." Meguri's tears fell onto the back of Yukino's white hand. They were the first *equal* tears ever shed for her. Not Haruno's twisted affection, not Hachiman's self-sacrificing devotion — but the tears of one human being, simply wishing for the happiness of another. Yukino gazed steadily at Meguri's face. Her icy blue eyes slowly began to thaw. "...Thank you. Shiromeguri-senpai." She squeezed the words out in a hoarse voice. Then, quietly but unmistakably, she nodded. It was the moment she accepted, for the first time, *equal cooperation* from another person. Around the same time, Yuigahama Yui had called Hayama Hayato out to the courtyard. The cold wind shook the bare branches of the zelkova tree. Yui's soft, light-brown hair was tousled by the breeze. The usual forced brightness in her large eyes was gone, replaced by a deep sadness. "Hayato-kun... that confession you made to me the other day. You didn't say that for my sake, did you." Her words were quiet, but they pierced Hayama's chest like a sharp blade. Hayama hung his head, unable to speak. "I knew it. You said that for your own sake, Hayato-kun. You were jealous of Hikki, you wanted to beat him, and you were just looking for an excuse so you wouldn't get hurt yourself." "...Yui." Hayama raised his face. His handsome features were twisted with anguish. "From now on, don't do things for my sake. Do them for your own. If you don't, I'll never be able to forgive you. Stop running away from yourself. As for me... I'll decide things for myself." Saying that, Yui smiled sadly. It was the fullest kindness she could muster — a smile to sever her feelings for Hayama. She turned her back and began to walk away. "...Yui!" At Hayama's call, Yui stopped, and without turning around, she spoke. "I'm going to face Hikki properly from now on. So... you need to face your own feelings too, Hayato-kun." Yui's retreating figure disappeared into the school building. Left behind, Hayama stood alone in the middle of the courtyard. His fists trembled. Yui's words had ruthlessly exposed his ego and self-deception. (*So I was just using Yui as a pretext to vent my jealousy toward Hikigaya...*) A dark possessiveness and hatred he had never shown anyone before. Envy toward Hikigaya. A twisted attachment to Yui. (*But even so—*) He lifted his head. In his green eyes, for the first time, a flame flickered — the flame of his *own ego*. (*Even so, I want to protect Yui's smile. This time, by my own will.*) He pulled out his smartphone and dialed a number. After a few rings, a voice like the chiming of bells — and yet utterly cold — answered. "Oh my, Hayato-kun. What's the matter?" "...Can we meet now? There's something I absolutely need to talk to you about." It was a one-man declaration of war against Yukinoshita Haruno. The voice of a man who had resolved to lose everything. After school. Hachiman, crushed by Iroha's scathing questions, wandered unsteadily into the service club room as if he had barely managed to find his way there. Yukino was standing alone, gazing out the window. Her profile seemed just a little calmer than it had that morning. Noticing his footsteps, she slowly turned around. "Hachiman... Isshiki-san told you, didn't she. About your ego — the one you call self-sacrifice." Her voice had regained its core. Hachiman, his face twisted as if chewing a bitter bug, leaned against the wall. "...Yeah. I had no comeback. Even while telling you we'd fight together, I was clinging to my own methods, trying to run away in a way where no one got hurt. I wasn't trying to protect you. I was running away from facing you." He spat out the words, disgusted with his own patheticness. "I don't know what to do anymore. How to stand up to Haruno's power, how to push back against the school's pressure... I want to protect you, but every method I try is wrong, and I

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Episode 5

Name: My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong, As I Expected: After Story ―And So, the Snow Falls Quietly―
Author: Novelia

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