Chapter 76: Because It’s Just the Two of Us, We Can Face Each Other

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Translator: Soafp

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By the time they stepped out of the locker room, sixth period had already begun. When Ginji entered the classroom from the back, the teacher scolded him.

“I was in the bathroom”

A few students chuckled, but he paid them no mind, taking his seat and opening his textbook. For the record, Aika had apparently gone home early.

And then—after school.

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“…Jiiii.”

“…What?”

As they started walking home together like usual, Sora glared at Ginji.

While changing into their outdoor shoes at the cubby, their eyes met and held.

Ginji sighed and patted Sora on the head. After a moment of being petted, her face softened despite herself.

“Ehehe… ah—n-no! You're not getting off the hook that easy!”

“I'm not trying to. Come on, let's get to my bike.”

They coasted down the hill on Ginji's bike, riding double. Ginji was the first to speak.

“I talked with Aika in the gym equipment shed.”

“I knew it… she went home early, so I figured something must've happened. What did she say?”

“She told me to stay away from you. I told her I'm staying with you. That's it.”

There was no hesitation in his voice.

“…Okay.”

Sora's arms, wrapped around Ginji's waist, tightened. He could feel her trembling faintly against his back.

They went straight to Sora's house without stopping anywhere. Tomorrow was the day she'd promised to show him her painting—a day they'd marked as special. Normally, they would have dinner together, but today Sora said she needed to prepare for tomorrow, so they parted ways.

The summer evening was still bright.

“…Ginji.”

She couldn't speak any further. Resting her head against Ginji's chest, Sora let her anxiety show. The walls she had built were almost gone, yet still faintly present between them. It reminded Ginji of something she'd said when they first met:

“There's not much I don't want to talk about… just a little.”

Being close enough to care deeply also meant being close enough to hurt each other. Sora, who had been driven purely by love and had only thought about getting closer to Ginji, was suddenly scared—scared by Aika telling Ginji to leave her.

She was afraid Ginji might do just that, the same way Aika once had.

“It's okay, Sora.”

His voice held no hesitation. Ginji embraced her as she looked up.

Tears spilled forth—tears of joy from a girl who had always been alone, now touched by warmth.

“Ginji… Ginji…”

“Come on, wipe those tears. I don't have a handkerchief, though.”

With a gentle smile, Ginji used his fingers to wipe away her tears.

“Mmnh…”

“We'll be okay. You and me.”

Seeing Ginji's wide, confident smile, Sora finally steeled her resolve.

Sora gathered the courage to risk being hurt—to finally tell Ginji that she was a girl.

And Ginji had prepared himself to be hurt for her sake, reaching out to her.

Now, they would face each other—together. That's what Ginji had told her.

Even if it was scary, they could overcome it together. After a while, they let go of each other.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

Sora saw him off, then entered her workspace. She pulled a box from the shelf and set it on the desk.

Then, she took the painting she'd been working on and placed it on the easel.

Still in her school uniform, the girl picked up her brush, and, as if in prayer, began layering her emotions onto the canvas.

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Back at home, Ginji changed clothes and began preparing dinner.

As he flipped ingredients in a wok, his younger brother Tetsuya returned and peeked into the kitchen.

“I'm home.”

“Hey, welcome back. Dinner'll be ready soon.”

“You're not with Sora-senpai today?”

“She had stuff to do. Getting ready for tomorrow. Sometimes it's nice for just us brothers to hang out, right?”

As Ginji cooked fried rice with practiced rhythm, Tetsuya watched him intently, then silently opened the fridge and poured himself some barley tea.

Without meeting his brother's gaze, Ginji spoke as the sounds of sizzling filled the kitchen.

“…I'm going to confess to Sora tomorrow.”

Tetsuya drank the tea in one gulp, then quietly refilled his cup.

“…So that's what it was.”

“Huh?”

Ginji turned toward him, puzzled by Tetsuya's satisfied tone. Tetsuya handed over a glass of barley tea—and, unusually, gave a small smirk.

“You looked more manly than usual. Go get her, Aniki.”

“…Thanks.”

With his brother's support behind him, Ginji threw himself back into the rhythm, vigorously stirring the sizzling wok.