V6Ch6: Saved part 1

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Translator: Soafp

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“…Beautiful.”

The vivid crimson spread out in a perfect disc. Perhaps captivated by it, Hinagi murmured to herself.

Beneath an equally vivid lapis-blue canopy, I watched her reaction.

“I never thought I'd actually look forward to rain like this.”

It was our day off. On the way home from watching a movie, we were walking together in the rain.

Walking beside me, Hinagi-chan tilted her paper umbrella and spun around with a twirl.

“Thanks for the souvenir, Yukito. I'll treasure it forever!”

“It's not really practical for everyday use—it can't handle strong winds, and it takes a bit of maintenance.”

Its durability isn't great; a strong gust would snap it. But even that fragility is part of its charm.

Raindrops pattered against the washi paper, making a distinctive sound. It was refined… almost elegant.

The umbrella Hinagi held was a bright crimson one. I'd bought it for her as a souvenir, since I'd been going to Kyoto quite often lately. The one I held was lapis blue. Yay for matching umbrellas!

“I see… maybe it's precisely because it's delicate that I want to take good care of it.”

“It's almost a waste to pair it with casual clothes.”

“Yeah. Next time… want to try wearing a kimono?”

“Does that mean I can spin the obi around?”

“…Idiot.”

Even though I'd spun Tsubaki-san's obi plenty of times before, if there's an obi there, you can't help but want to spin it.

“But it's strange… So the correct way is to set it down in reverse.”

“There's no place to hang it to dry in the entryway. Guess I'll have to hang it with the laundry out on the balcony…”

With an ordinary umbrella, you'd lean it with the handle up, but a wagasa is stored with the handle down.

If you want to use it for a long time instead of treating it as disposable, it takes a certain amount of care.

“…I'd been looking forward to rainy days.”

“I'm just glad you like it.”

If I only gave a present to Hinagi-chan, Hiori-chan would get all pouty, so I also bought one for Akane-san.

An elegant adult beauty like her would suit it perfectly.

“The other day, my mom said something weird to you… sorry about that.”

“That was a full-on truth punch that almost knocked me out, nya~”

Hinagi-chan looked apologetic, but there wasn't a single thing wrong with Akane-san's point.

Calm and mature Hinagi.

Just two years ago, she had been sharp-tongued, unable to control her emotions, lashing out.

Now she had grown so much—too much, perhaps.

Hinagi had paid the price in her effort to change herself, to overcome the past.

She had gained things, but lost others.

I would respect any decision Hinagi made, but I think Akane-san wanted her to stay a girl for a little longer—speaking as the parent Hinagi should be able to depend on.

“I got chewed out by my mom too.”

“You? By Ouka-san?”

Feeling awkward, I instinctively looked up at the sky.

That had been a pitiful disaster.

With a serious face, my mom had come over and suddenly given me a painstaking lecture about how, since she was a maid, it was only proper to call her by name—Ouka.

When I was changing clothes while wearing socks, she looked at me with a face as if the world were ending, so I tried saying, “Hey, Ouka. Socks.”

She beamed from ear to ear and put them on my feet for me.

We were seriously getting into dangerous territory here.

“Lately, Maid Mom lives for pampering me.”

She's gotten to the point where she won't let me do anything for myself.

Maid Mom takes care of every little thing for me.

It's a life of elegance worthy of a nobleman.

Just yesterday she even slipped up and said, “Master—Yukito.”

The maid-ism was infecting her mind.

Fjord fjord.

“Fufu. Sounds like you're enjoying it.”

“Do I?”

I gave Hinagi-chan a dubious, narrow-eyed look.

At this rate, I wouldn't last long.

“It's fine for you, Yukito. I don't think rushing ahead as fast as possible is always the right answer.”

Her face was hidden by the umbrella.

Through the sound of the rain, I could hear only her voice.

“If you're always running at full speed, I won't be able to catch up. I want to stay by your side, Yukito. I want to treasure moments like this where we can just be together, walking slowly side by side.”

Mom, Sis, Akane-san, and Hinagi—they all say the same thing.

They put the brakes on me when I recklessly try to charge ahead.

I only have an accelerator.

I sought strength.

The strength to overcome anything, all by myself.

But all that awaited me beyond that… was lonely self-satisfaction.

And yet, here Hinagi was, walking next to me.

“In that case, you're like a driving school's training car.”

“You always make analogies that are way too old for your age, you know?”

Do I?

Well, see, training cars at driving schools have an extra brake pedal on the passenger side…

“Mm. Hinagi, wait here. I'm gonna buy takoyaki.”

“Ah, Yukito!”

“I know, Goshū, right? Leave it to me.”

“Don't just turn me into some gluttonous character without asking!”

Anyway, I bought ten from Hinarūt-kun's favorite shop.

For takeout, of course.

[Hinagi PoV]

“You really are an idiot…”

I stepped around a puddle with a soft splash, avoiding getting my shoes wet.

Maybe I should buy some cute rain boots?

With this umbrella, even gloomy rainy days might become something to look forward to.

Yukito always casts a spell on me—a happy spell.

The rain had completely stopped, and with the takoyaki in hand, I headed home.

There was too much for the two of us to eat, so Yukito gave me the rest, saying it was a souvenir.

Apparently, he was trying to curry favor with my mom.

He didn't have to.

Mom liked Yukito too.

It was because she liked him that she worried.

Worried that one day he might return to the way he used to be.

But unlike Mom, I thought it was just needless anxiety.

Because Yukito was willing to wait for us.

He had stopped his frantic pace so we could catch up to that back of his.

After a painful reunion, we had finally regained our happy, peaceful days.

And I realized that this uneventful everyday life was the most precious thing of all to us.

This was the beginning.

The starting line was still far away.

But unlike back then, when I couldn't even see it, now I could.

We could just keep getting closer one step at a time.

Yukito wouldn't run away.

And someday… I'd be right beside him.

“What a coincidence, meeting you here, Suzurikawa.”

“…Yoshikawa.”

“Can't you at least call me ‘senpai'?”

Noise mixed into my thoughts.

The unpleasantness smothered my happy mood.

Toshiya Yoshikawa.

In middle school, he'd confessed to me, and we'd gone out for a short time.

To me, he was a stain on my life, the start of my downfall.

If not for him, I would never have become isolated.

It wasn't unusual to run into a student from another school by chance.

Maybe he lived in the area.

If so, that was troublesome.

He was someone I'd rather never see again.

“Don't look at me like that… Well, I guess it can't be helped. —Sorry about last time.”

He spoke bluntly.

I couldn't make sense of it.

That wasn't like him at all…

“…What are you thinking?”

“Huh? Oh, well, last time I had some friends with me, so… I kinda got carried away.”

The fact that this conversation was even continuing was deeply unsettling.

I inched backward.

“You're the worst.”

“From your point of view, yeah. —That's why I'm sorry.

For middle school, too.”

Should I trust my intuition, or my reason?

Still, for all that, Yoshikawa was expressing an apology.

Back then, in middle school, it hadn't been entirely his fault.

I'd had my share of blame too.

“I was wrong too. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have treated you so terribly.”

I had used Yoshikawa's confession just to gauge Yukito's feelings.

After we started going out, I'd never once treated him decently—always cold and distant.

Of course he would be angry. I was just as awful as he was.

“That doesn't mean what I did gets wiped clean. Sorry.”

I felt oddly deflated.

Had this man… grown up?

His sudden change in attitude left me unsettled.

“That's enough. I was just heading home anyway.”

A strange, gnawing sense of impatience urged me to cut the conversation short.

I didn't want to stay here.

“Yeah? Well, if you'd like, how about I take you out for a meal to make it up to you?”

“No thanks.”

“I see.”

I turned my back on Yoshikawa's wry smile and started walking.

“By the way, Suzurikawa—do you like someone?”

The voice behind me made me respond without thinking.

“Who knows? …But I can tell you one thing for sure—it's not you.”

I had no interest in knowing what kind of face Yoshikawa was making just then.

---

[Toshiya Yoshikawa PoV]

“Huh? A school festival?”

“Come to think of it, I've never been to another school's festival.”

“Let's go together, senpai. I got some invitation tickets from a friend who went to Shoyo.”

Wincing at the stifling heat, Toshiya Yoshikawa wiped his sweat with a towel as he changed in the clubroom without air conditioning.

He took the so-called invitation tickets from his junior, first-year student Takashi Imamura.

He looked them over carefully, but there was no useful information to be gleaned, so he handed them to Kozo Kano.

A high school festival wasn't anything spectacular—at best, the work of amateurs.

It was an event meant for insiders to have fun together; whether it would be enjoyable as a visitor was anyone's guess.

Still, with no particular plans, it might be fun to go.

Yoshikawa and Kano, both second-years in the soccer club, and Imamura, a first-year, often hung out together.

The two second-years were regulars, Imamura was a substitute.

With not many members and practice that wasn't too strict, the club was comfortable for them.

Finishing practice early, they packed up and got ready to head home.

Talking idly, their conversation naturally turned to the festival.

“Shoyo… that's the place with the goddess thing, right?”

“Goddess? What are you talking about, Toshiya?”

“I don't know the details, just heard rumors.”

“Apparently they have a saint now too. Sounds dumb, but don't you kinda want to see?”

If there was such a beauty, he couldn't deny he was curious.

He'd also grown bored with his current girlfriend.

He was the one who had confessed, but it wasn't because he liked her.

He'd simply learned she was the girlfriend of a player who had beaten him in a soccer match, and approached her out of spite.

Different schools meant distance, and that gave him a way in.

He played the part of a caring partner to slip into the gap of her loneliness, gradually lowering her guard.

Once he could see her wavering, the rest was easy.

If romance was a heroine-capturing game, all it was was shifting parameters.

He wooed her persistently until she easily dumped her ex and fell for him—game clear.

But once he “captured” her, he quickly got bored.

Any girl you could take that easily wasn't worth much.

(Myo’s ex was from Shoyo too, wasn't he…?)

Okajima Myo—that was her name.

It might be fun to go to the festival with Myo and show off in front of her ex, but she probably wouldn't agree.

She still seemed to have some lingering loyalty.

(If she likes her ex that much, she shouldn't have betrayed him. Guess it's about time to end this…)

Myo seemed to be plotting to get back together with her ex, but a person who would betray someone so easily could never be trusted by anyone.

It would end in failure.

Yoshikawa had no interest in what happened to her.

There were plenty of other women out there.

Now that he was in high school, he wanted to enjoy his freedom.

His middle school days hadn't been pleasant.

This might be a good chance to erase those bitter memories.

Maybe he'd target a girl from another school next.

Thinking that, he turned to Imamura.

“What about you? Not going with your girlfriend?”

“Broke up ages ago. She was boring.”

“You only went out for a month.”

“I get bored fast. Well, I did get everything I wanted the first time, so I'd say it was worth it. Anyway, check this out, senpai. I finally finished it—Class A Girls Nude Catalog!”

Without the slightest hint of shame, Imamura laughed and pulled out his phone.

He opened the image files, revealing a screen filled with photos of girls.

All of them were—nude.

“You're sick, man.”

Looking at the screen, Kano let out a sigh.

It was so vile, so repulsive.

Even Yoshikawa was put off by how far Imamura had gone, but the boy didn't care.

“What's so good about fake stuff…”

“Of course the real thing's better, but that's not realistic, right? I've got a big dream—to finish an album of every girl in this school before we graduate!”

They were all fake images generated by AI.

If you weren't told, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

Whatever “value” it might have, it was still grotesque.

“There's actually a lot of depth to it, you know? A friend taught me how to edit the body shape freely. Now I can make even more progress on my graduation album!”

Imamura laughed carelessly.

Yoshikawa and Kano were exasperated by his obsession, but they'd also accepted images of girls from him before, comparing them to the real thing.

They had no intention of misusing them, but they felt a creeping fear of where modern technology was heading.

One day, morals would collapse completely.

“Takashi, don't share these with anyone else.”

“I know, I know. It's just a personal hobby. Oh, this one's my ex.”

It needed to stay in that realm.

There was no reason to take unnecessary risks.

This kind of thing was fine for sharing only within the group.

He had no intention of taking dangerous chances.

That was how he had always managed—and how he intended to keep managing.

If you wanted no-strings-attached sex, you could just hit up a prostitute.

Walk through the city and there were plenty.

No matter how you dressed it up, that was undeniable reality.

Fake was fake.

Yoshikawa had no intention of getting in too deep.

Imamura sent him the image of his ex.

Among the first-years, she was a high-class catch.

From Yoshikawa's point of view, she was too good to waste—but obsession was dangerous.

It would destroy you eventually. If you're bored, it's over.

Suddenly, a face came to mind—an infuriating, unpleasant woman.

My ex-girlfriend from middle school, with whom I'd gone out for barely a few weeks.

And just a few days ago, we'd run into each other again.

In the end, I'd never gotten to sleep with her.

The wound from being made a fool of still festered inside me like a thorn, leaving a scar.

When I saw Suzurikawa again after all this time, she'd turned into quite the tempting woman—at least on the outside.

That was exactly why I decided to change tactics and go after her carefully.

If I apologized first, she seemed like the type who would quickly start to trust me.

What a naïve woman.

“By the way, senpai, what are you going to do about that main girl you met before?”

“I'm not sure yet.”

“She probably has a boyfriend though.”

Suzurikawa hadn't answered my earlier question—that in itself was an answer.

She didn't have a boyfriend.

“Looks aside, she's a piece of work. Total trash personality.”

“If you can get her into bed, who cares about her personality?”

“Don't say that so lightly.”

I was exasperated at my junior's words, but it was true—she was my main target.

And I knew that this was nothing more than the obsession I'd just claimed I didn't have.

If I could make her fall for me, thoroughly use her, and then cruelly dump her as payback—would that finally clear up this rotten feeling in my chest?

Would it make me feel better?

Right now, she was clearly hostile toward me, so it wouldn't be easy.

But people can fall surprisingly easily when they're emotionally vulnerable.

And from what I could see, Suzurikawa had plenty of openings.

Old grudges—just like Suzurikawa, I also wanted to erase the past.

“Oh, senpai—by the way, the guy who gave me the tickets told me not to cause any trouble at the festival no matter what. Apparently, if you get noticed, you'll regret it. What do you think that's about?”

Imamura's vague story left me with a question mark over my head.

“What, is there some kind of old-school gang leader there?”

“No idea. But really, these days fighting to prove you're tough is just pathetic—idiots stuck in the past.”

Imamura shrugged in exasperation.

“Come to think of it, back when I was in middle school, there was this time when an upperclassman went after some cocky underclassman—”

“What is it, senpai?”

Suddenly, I nearly had a flashback and shook my head.

“No… it's nothing.”

“What's the big deal, Toshiya? It's not unusual for upperclassmen to rough up some younger kid.”

“Yeah… I guess.”

I dodged the question. It wasn't something I should be remembering.

Back then, the third-year senior who'd gone after a mouthy first-year suddenly stopped talking about it entirely the next day.

He even avoided making eye contact.

There were all sorts of rumors—he'd been beaten up, he'd been threatened—but the truth was buried in darkness.

I'd been on good terms with that senior, but he never told me what had happened.

After that, I kept an eye on that underclassman from time to time, but the guy was frequently absent due to serious injuries.

It didn't take me long to realize he was bad news.

There were many rumors about him, but I couldn't say they were all false.

Rumors always have a grain of truth.

That alone was enough to know he was someone to avoid.

The fact that I'd kept my head down during middle school was without a doubt because of him.

When I later heard he'd been causing trouble even while hospitalized, I knew no upperclassman about to graduate would stick their neck into that mess.

The same went for the second-years.

Lately, I'd even seen his name on social media from time to time, but I avoided it completely.

I didn't want to see it or hear it.

In a way, he was like a trauma—like a natural disaster.

I could only hope he'd mellowed out in high school, but if he'd gotten worse, it would be a nightmare.

That was a memory from middle school best left forgotten.

Just like with that irritating Suzurikawa, running into him would be like facing a calamity.

I didn't need any information—if we clashed, there'd be nothing left but a giant crater.

Shaking off the unpleasant nightmare, I switched gears.

“Alright then, let's check out Shoyo.”

Whether or not that mother and daughter were now living freely had nothing to do with me.

---

[Yukito PoV]

“You saved me at the beach, and yet… I still treated you so terribly…”

Toki bit her lip, holding back her emotions.

It had just been a passing thing—I'd picked her up along the way.

It barely counted as saving her.

It was more like she'd gotten caught in a stray bullet.

Still, she was surprisingly grateful.

“Thank you… so much!”

“Well, I got to see you in a swimsuit, so let's call that my reward.”

“If that's all it takes, you can just say so anytime…”

This was pretty bad—normally this would be where she'd go, “Eek! Yukito, you perv!”

Instead, she was acting like this.

Then, as if testing my mood, Akari Toki touched on the heart of the matter.

“Can I ask you one thing? How did you know about the photos I sent to the teacher?”

“Sanjoji-sensei and I are pudding buddies, you know? Of course something like that would reach my ears.”

“Pudding? I don't get it, but… oh, so you two made up. I didn't know that.”

There was a loud bang somewhere nearby, but I ignored it for now.

In Akari Toki's mind, there was no connection between me and Sanjoji-sensei.

If anything, she thought we disliked each other—were on bad terms.

That's exactly why she'd chosen me as the recipient of those photos.

Her thinking was that, if we were at odds, there'd be no way I could know about the photos otherwise.

It was nothing but shallow reasoning.

She hadn't imagined that Sanjoji-sensei would tell Sayuri-sensei, who would then tell me.

From Sanjoji-sensei's point of view, this was a completely fabricated accusation with no basis.

And consulting me—the very person she disliked—about it was an unthinkable development under normal circumstances.

And even if the culprit were identified, she must have assumed that, as a female student, things wouldn't escalate too much.

To her, my harassment and the harassment of Sanjoji-sensei were separate incidents that could never be linked.

That's why this whole situation had come about in the first place.

“My mom cried and scolded me. When I realized I'd thrown away the happiness I had with my own hands, I couldn't stop crying… But I'm the one who hurt people, so I shouldn't be crying… The ones who are really hurting are Sensei and Kokonoe-kun, and yet I did something so awful… and I can't even take responsibility for it myself…!”

Unable to hold it back any longer, her tears spilled out. I hadn't taken any damage from it myself, but Sensei had been deeply hurt. And Toki, who had been closely observing her, probably understood that better than anyone.

“Make sure you spend the rest of your suspension reflecting properly.”

Akari Toki had been given a ten-day suspension. She could spend the remaining few days keeping to herself and thinking things over.

“Yeah! I'm sorry… I'm so sorry!”

She kept apologizing in front of me.

…Well, this was awkward.

Honestly, I had planned to lighten the mood by talking about that famous video game cheat where you use the inventory screen and select button to instantly hit level 100, but the mood wasn't right for that. I'm bad with sentimental atmospheres.

Even though I was the one who'd called Akari Toki out here.

“Oh, right. I've already cleared it with the school, so you don't have to worry about them contacting you.”

“…How could you even do something like that?”

“I asked the principal.”

“…Why on earth did I ever think it was a good idea to target you…?”

She covered her face and cried.

Normally, during a suspension, the student is supposed to quietly stay home. Only absolutely necessary outings, like to the hospital or cram school, are allowed. The school would call, and reports would have to be submitted.

If the school found out we were meeting somewhere like this, Toki's position would become even worse.

But that wasn't a problem. I'd already informed them in advance.

“At the moment, you're the only one being punished. Are you really okay with that?”

She must have prepared her answer beforehand, because she replied in a firm voice.

“Yes. I'm the one who did it. I can't shift the blame onto anyone else…”

While Toki was suspended, Kazuhiro Okamoto remained untouched. Toki felt no resentment toward that—it was her own responsibility, and she accepted that.

I knew the reason why.

“Besides… he said he wants to apologize, right? Then that's enough.”

The message I'd received from Okamoto was that he wanted to meet and apologize. Not for the fake image he'd sent to Sanjoji-sensei, but for conspiring with Toki to set me up.

Judging from the message, Okamoto—like Toki—still had no idea that I was best buddies with Sanjoji-sensei. He probably thought that since Toki had confessed, I had learned about everything they'd done.

Toki had blocked Okamoto's messages, and I'd told her not to contact him either. That meant Okamoto had no idea Toki had been suspended.

Likewise, Toki didn't know that Okamoto had already met with Sanjoji-sensei in person, or what they had talked about.

Even if Okamoto said he wanted to apologize to me, it was probably not sincere.

By deliberately splitting up the flow of information, I'd finally set the stage.

When Toki saw the message Okamoto had sent me, she'd looked genuinely relieved.

Part of it must have been wanting to escape this nightmare, but more than that, as his co-conspirator, she was happy that Kazuhiro Okamoto seemed to have changed his ways.

It was because she believed in his desire to apologize to me that she accepted taking all the blame herself.

In other words, this was the final judgment—whether or not Kazuhiro Okamoto could turn back.

“Looks like he's here.”

Outside the shop, I saw Okamoto. He spotted us, and for a moment looked surprised to see Akari Toki.
He stopped, hesitated briefly, then walked straight into the store.

Toki's expression brightened a little. For someone who felt responsible, she probably hoped this meeting would be harsh but serve as a foundation for reconciliation.

Whether that would happen or not was entirely up to Okamoto.

“Well then… let's see if the demon shows up or the snake… fitting for the Year of the Snake, huh.”

I tossed out a dumb joke. The only thing I wanted showing up was the “AT.”

At home, I had a pachislot machine—nicknamed the “π-Slot”—sitting in the living room, and it was an open secret that I spun it all the way to the ceiling every day just to see the rest of the story.

Once I'd seen it all, I'd decided I was going to smash it to pieces. Machines as evil as that shouldn't exist in this world.

Anyway…

I waved him over. Kazuhiro Okamoto sat down next to Akari Toki, naturally ending up directly across from me.

The air went tense. Toki glanced nervously between the two of us.

For all the big things she'd done, she was apparently a worrier.

Just to be clear, I had no intention of picking a fight. I greeted Okamoto with the utmost friendliness.

“You've got some nerve showing your face here, you piece of sh*t.”

The moment I landed the first punch—verbally—the color drained from both their faces.