3

Eita leaned back in exhaustion, having finally finished his self-grading. His eyes glazed over looking at the papers below him, where he had barely scored a 50% on the mock exam.

“I get a recommendation then just slack right off…”

Eita’s sigh of disappointment bounced off the empty walls of his lonely study room. The school had prepared the space specially for him, since he was only attending Kashiogawa High for the final trimester. He was told it had originally been some kind of reception room, so it was only a third the size of the classrooms or so. The same room had been lined with folding chairs and collapsible tables when he came in for introductions, but when he arrived for his first day of school, there were only four desk chairs, the kind he could find in any old classroom.

The empty seats only served to make him feel uncomfortable, so he ended up pushing all four of them together, like elementary school friends trying to eat lunch with each other.

The workbook on his desk kept trying to shut itself. It was a rather thick book, and since it was brand-new, there were no creases in the covers to hold it open.

The workbook had a bold red cover, and held a compilation of past entrance exam questions. It was well-known as “the Red Book” by students studying for exams. The workbook’s cover was emblazoned with the words Suizan Academy.

Eita didn’t even know what he was doing.

He had bought it on a whim, and all day he’d been diligently studying Japanese, Japanese history, and English… and all it led to was feeling sucky about his terrible grades.

The statistics told him that he needed to study English vocabulary and idioms first and foremost. Outside of that, he might possibly skate by on his pretty solid knowledge of Japanese history.

Eita already had a free pass to college through a recommendation, and yet there he was, studying for an entrance exam. He couldn’t just pretend otherwise. The name of the academy written all over the book cover said it all.

“You in here, Izumi-senpai?”

The room’s door was opened from the outside as a voice came in. It was Komiya Ena.

“Ah, there you are!” Ena offered a bright smile as their eyes met. She walked excitedly across the room, plopping down opposite of Eita.

“Ask all you want, I won’t let you use that photo in a contest.” Eita decided to preempt anything she wanted to say.

“Well, it’s not like you have any friends, Senpai. Figured I’d keep you company during lunch.”

Ena spread out her lunch on the desks as she explained herself. A quick glance at the wall clock informed Eita that it was indeed lunchtime. He’d been so busy solving problems that he hadn’t even noticed the bell ring.

“Haruto’s my friend.”

“Time to eat.” Ignoring Eita’s rebuttal, Ena began eating her lunch alone, stealing glances at the desktop.

Eita quickly gathered up his worksheets and Red Book, tucking it all into one of the desks. He tried to make it all look natural and smooth as he pulled out his own lunch.

“Well, ultimately I’m just here to buddy up to you. You seem like the kind of guy who’d pull any kind of favor for a friend, so I figure that we become friends, and you agree to the photo.” Ena very candidly laid out her entire plan. “So, make any progress with Prez?”

Just when Eita thought he had a grasp on her, she went and changed the subject. “Nope,” he answered evenly, careful to keep cool.

Not only had he not made any progress, he’d probably gone a step backwards. He’d felt super awkward ever since the New Year’s shrine visit, and hadn’t managed to say anything to Mio, either in person or on LINE.

He wondered how she took all that stuff he said. How he had looked to her.

He had more or less toed the line on straight-up verbalizing his feelings for her. Then there were all the awful retorts and provocations…

But the fact that he had gotten so upset about it was more or less a personal confirmation of where he stood. He couldn’t pretend any more, and before he knew it, he was working on practice questions in the Red Book.

“Is that right? Even though that red book you hid in your desk was for Prez’s first choice college?”

“…” Eita’s chopsticks froze in midair, holding a piece of fried chicken.

“I wonder why Izumi-senpai, a guy that already has a college recommendation, would be working on something like that.”

“You better not tell.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of telling Prez. Ooh, I’ll have that!”

Ena reached out with her chopsticks and snatched a rolled omelet from Eita’s bentou box. She immediately popped it into her mouth, making an “mm” sound as she chewed.

“Wow, Senpai, your mom’s a great cook. Here, you can have this.” Ena offered some of the deep-fried bits of her lunch in return. Eita wished he could’ve shut down her shenanigans, but not while she had blackmail on him.

“Your mom’s a pretty good cook, too.”

“I made this, though. You like veggies, too?” Ena looked very pleased with herself as she picked up a piece of boiled taro with her chopsticks, bringing it up to Eita’s mouth. She was clearly only a moment away from telling him to ‘say aaah’.

“Eita, you got a mo…ment?”

The door to Eita’s study room suddenly slid open.

In came Haruto, his mouth hanging open as he stared at Eita and Ena. He blinked a few times, then stepped back and closed the door. “My bad, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Eita practically flew out of his seat towards the door, slamming it open. “It’s not what you think!” He yelled at Haruto before the other boy could leave.

“R-Right.”

“What? What do you need?” Eita quickly pushed things forwards before Haruto could ask any questions about what he’d seen.

“…Well, I mean, it’s nothing, really.” Haruto turned away, his expression unsure. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, toying with it in his hand. “Back on Tuesday, I uh… got a message on LINE.”

His explanation left out the most important part, as in, who had sent the message. But the fact that Haruto felt like he had to come and ask Eita about it made that part clear.

“…From Morikawa-san?”

“Yeah… and I kinda haven’t responded yet.”

“Dude, it’s Thursday.” A solid two days later.

“Well… what do you think I should do?” Haruto asked a fairly difficult question, his expression entirely serious.

“Shouldn’t you just say something like, ‘Sorry for leaving you hanging the last few days’?”

“No way, man. I don’t even know what she wants, and honestly, it’s scary enough without clearing it up.”

“…” Eita didn’t know what to say to that.

Clearing it up.

Eita couldn’t have made up for the stuff he had said to Mio by being a day or two quicker. Things had been dragging ever since the beginning of the year…

He knew he had to apologize for everything he said, and he couldn’t count the number of times he started to contact her, only to do nothing again and again and again. Even after school started back up, he’d seen Mio in the distance on the way to and from school. But instead of starting a conversation, he’d hide behind an obstruction or turn a corner, waiting for her to pass.

He was afraid of clearing it up.

The thought that she might have realized his feelings for her was terrifying. If that was true, then he didn’t think he could be himself in front of her.

He would turn into Haruto, getting thrown for a loop over a single message.

But the moment Eita realized that fact, he felt like a switch flipped inside of him. He started feeling like now was the perfect time to fight back.

“Come with me, Haruto.” Eita began walking away without waiting for a reply.

“Hey, what the heck, man?”

Haruto started following him, but both his gait and attitude were reluctant, so he started dragging further and further behind. By the time Eita was walking down the stairs, Haruto had stopped atop the stairwell.

“Where are we going, Eita?”

Eita stopped and turned around, meeting Haruto’s gaze from atop the landing. “The field.”

“Why?”

“A one-inning at-bat.” Eita put a little aggression into his gaze. “Hit another home run… and then you can respond to Morikawa.”

Eita kept walking before Haruto could respond.

“I don’t get you, man,” Haruto said, chuckling as he started down the stairs. He passed Eita down the stairs, then turned around like he had remembered something. “So what’ll you do, Eita?” He looked pretty serious.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What’ll you do if you win?”

“…”

“It’s a competition, right?”

Eita hadn’t even considered that outcome. But he had initiated, and the answer was fairly obvious anyway.

“…In that case, I have something I need to clear up, too.”