“Hey, Hoshikawa. What’s your dream?”
Dream…?
He didn’t understand why she would bring that up out of nowhere, a question that could be deep or just casual, depending on the tone.
But since it was her asking, he had to take it seriously.
She didn’t press him. Just waited quietly, like ti had rewound to before the question was even asked.
“…Probably to enjoy youth as much as I can?”
Money was never the issue for his family, so why waste precious years chasing it? If he had to na so lofty goal, he could make one up, but what mattered to him now was simply living his second, once-in-a-lifeti youth to the fullest, without regrets.
“Be more specific.”
“Hmm… then, I guess I want to date a cute girl at school.”
Half-serious, half-joking.
“How unambitious.”
“Oh, unambitious, am I?”
He smacked his lips, put on a serious face, and declared in a mock-solemn tone:
“My dream is to date every cute girl in school!”
“Scumbag.”
His head was lifted off her lap pillow, ah, what a pity,
Then,
thud.
“Ow, ! That really hurt…”
Clutching his head, which had fallen straight to the ground, Hoshikawa winced.
“It’s getting late, Hoshikawa-kun.”
“Senpai, are you inviting over for dinner at your place?”
That earned him a cold glare, or maybe not even that, since her eyes always seed distant, emotionless, impossible to read.
“If you’d like to end up split in half by the family’s heirloom katana, be my guest.”
“…I’m sorry. I was wrong.”
He bowed and fumbled through his backpack for his phone.
“Then at least, let add you on Line this ti. And your number too!”
“Unfortunately… I don’t feel like giving my contact info to a scumbag right now.”
“…Eh?”
Not giving… her contact info?
His thumb froze above the unlock button.
“Don’t you think it’s better this way? Without contact, we can’t arrange etings. Every ti you walk down this street, you’ll feel a twinge of anticipation, hoping, wondering if you’ll run into . Isn’t that far more romantic?”
There was a faint playfulness in her tone, as though she were quietly amused by his dumbfounded expression.
“Rather than youth, it’s more like childhood,” she continued. “Like shaking a tin can full of fruit candies your parents brought back from abroad, listening to the clatter inside, wondering how many are left. You’d be torn between wanting the green apple flavor and not wanting to miss the orange one…”
He suddenly rembered, the fancy imported candy tin his mom once brought back for him.
“I get that,” he said softly.
“Then,” she replied, brushing the back of her skirt smooth with one graceful motion, “look forward to the next candy’s flavor, won’t you?”
Without looking up, she added, “I’ve been using NICE&QUICK’s herbal body wash lately. The mixed fruit one. Bet you can’t tell exactly what scent it is.”
She noticed that ti when he’d secretly tried to sll it?!
Overwheld by sha, he almost bolted ho again, though this ti, it would be an embarrassed retreat, not a cool goodbye.
“Shirasagi-senpai… you’re totally a psychic, aren’t you?”
“Mm. Believe what you like.”
But just as he turned to leave, disappointed he hadn’t gotten her contact, her clear, calm voice called out from behind.
“That promise we made, about standing up against bullying, you kept it, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
His steps slowed.
“Twice, even. Well done, boy.”
Her voice carried a rare warmth.
“It’s okay to hold your head high once in a while. After all, you saved a classmate from being bullied. You’re a hero who changed soone’s future.”
“Heroes always have beauties by their side. Is Senpai telling to go chase my dream?” he teased, trying to lighten the serious air.
“I recall most legends say heroes die for beauty’s sake. So be careful, scumbag.”
Clever girl…
He walked ho with a spring in his step, as if treading on clouds.
Though there was one small regret.
He’d only ever gotten that candy tin from his mom once, and what happened to it… he’d rather not rember.
He could still recall the thrill of opening it, the bright colors glinting inside. Then, one careless shake, the tin slipped from his hands, crashed to the floor, and the candies scattered everywhere.
The regret that followed burned into him, as vivid as if it had happened yesterday.
But of course, telling that story out loud would only ruin the sweetness of the mont.
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