“Man… I just got scalded by Miyabi-senpai out of nowhere…”
(“Drinking boiling water” — being tricked by soone you trust.)
Harutaki rubbed the spot where his head had hit the ground, grumbling as he pushed himself upright.
As always, her sense of control over force was impeccable—just enough to hurt a little, never enough to actually injure him.
“What you said makes sense, Hoshikawa-kun. Next ti, I’ll just toss you into cold water for a refreshing change.”
With Miyabi’s calm tone and indifferent expression, if Harutaki didn’t know her well, he might’ve taken that threat seriously.
…Wait, don’t tell —
He cautiously tested the waters.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“I thought soone like you would be more forgiving, Senpai…”
“I don’t know what kind of image you’ve built up of in your mind, but more often than not, that kind of admiration only ends in disappointnt.”
And when that disappointnt is amplified by excessive expectations, it often turns into resentnt—or even hatred.
Cases like that weren’t rare.
Expectation. Admiration. Always expectation and admiration.
Harutaki fell into thought, recalling what it felt like to carry heavy expectations himself.
His parents, relatives, teachers, classmates… everyone had placed their hopes and expectations on him. Yet almost no one had ever truly tried to see things from his perspective. Or even if they did, without fully understanding his situation, they could never really stand where he stood.
“Maybe my admiration for you isn’t entirely realistic, Senpai. But I’d rather trust what I’ve experienced firsthand. At the very least, the you who showed the way forward and helped ease my confusion—that’s exactly the person I admire.”
“You see? Even you just said ‘ease,’ not ‘solve.’”
Miyabi turned her head away, refusing to et his gaze any longer.
Whether she was embarrassed or simply annoyed—he couldn’t tell.
“I never expected anyone to completely solve my problems anyway… If sothing like that really existed, it’d be a miracle. But in the end, your own problems are yours to deal with. And you understand that better than anyone, Senpai.”
Miyabi had never told him what exactly to do. Instead, she guided him toward discovering his own desires and fears, helping him uncover possibilities and recognize what he had overlooked.
Without waiting for her response, he continued:
“Or what? Have you never had any expectations or admiration for , Senpai?”
“……”
Miyabi tilted her head slightly upward, quietly gazing at the horizon. The sky beyond looked like a blazing field set afla, crimson light burning across the entire skyline.
“You’re impressive. Even more so than what I imagined.”
“Hehe… If you praise like that, I’ll get embarrassed.”
Even if it sounded like a casual remark, hearing that from her genuinely made him happy.
Like a child being praised by a parent—no reward needed, just a simple sentence was enough to make him feel good for a long ti.
“Looks like you already have a major asset for success…”
“I’ll take that as a complint too.”
“…Having such thick skin is impressive in its own way.”
…Wait, did he just walk straight into her trap?
“But…” Miyabi’s tone shifted. Her voice remained as flat as ever, yet sohow, Harutaki sensed a trace of loneliness. She let out a soft breath before continuing, “…I’m not like you. I’m not as capable as you are. I can’t live up to the expectations placed on .”
“I believe in you, Senpai—”
“Believe? Do you really know ? Where does that confidence co from?”
For the first ti, Miyabi cut him off mid-sentence.
And in that instant, he realized how important that was.
Because… she was right.
He couldn’t help but inwardly mock his own arrogance.
He didn’t know anything about the girl before him.
That realization echoed clearly in his mind.
He didn’t know her family situation. Her likes. Her dislikes. What she excelled at. What she struggled with… He didn’t even know her past.
“If it’s possible, I’d like to learn more about you, Senpai.”
“That’s a textbook line for a scumbag.”
She hit the nail on the head.
Right now, she felt like a snow maiden encased in ice—untouchable, impossible to approach.
Knowing when to stop was also a kind of courage and wisdom. Harutaki couldn’t help but feel grateful once again for Asama-sensei’s teachings.
“I’ve told you the story I promised. It’s getting late… If there’s nothing else, I’ll head ho now.”
“……”
He stood up, brushing the dust off his pants as he looked down at her.
Her pale lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say sothing. But after a mont’s pause, all that ca out was a quiet farewell.
“…Thank you. And… see you next ti.”
“See you.”
Only when Harutaki reached the end of the street did he stop and glance back.
Miyabi hadn’t reopened the book beside her. She was still sitting there, chin resting in her hands, quietly watching the rippling stream glowing orange under the setting sun.
Stoner…
He figured she must really like novels—or maybe she simply liked listening to stories. Just like she had asked him to share his own.
Still… compared to Stoner, wasn’t Augustus by John Williams far more famous and influential?
He had seen the title before, back when he was reading Augustus. It was ntioned in the author’s bio on the cover. But he had only glanced at it and never bothered to look further.
…
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