Chapter 55: Thunk.

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Translated and Edited by: luccayn.

Common Honorifics:
-san: A polite suffix, but not excessively formal.
-kun: A common suffix among friends and younger people.
-chan: A common suffix among people you're close with, mostly used for feminine nicknames and girls, since it's cutesy and childlike.
-senpai: A common suffix and noun used to address or refer to one's older or more senior colleagues in a school, workplace, dojo, or sports club.

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Tsukino’s POV

..For some reason, he's holding my hand.

He's holding my hand. Lending me his shoulder. Gently squeezing my hand. I can smell Shinji-kun's scent—mild, like milk soap. A faint, slightly smoky incense aroma, the same one I noticed when I visited his house.

The scent of the boy I like.

“You're awake?”

Through half-open eyes, I see him with a paperback in his hands. Without even glancing at me, he speaks in a languid tone. But I want to stay like this, so I pretend not to hear his voice. The book's title is The Poisoned Chocolates Case. Even I know of it—it’s a famous story.

“When someone's awake, their body naturally tenses up. You've gotten a bit lighter than before.”

“…I don't think I'm that heavy, though.”

Ah, I slipped up.

“That's not what I mean. When you’re unconscious, you lean your full weight, but when you’re awake, you hold yourself up a little with your neck. Not that there's much of a weight difference between us, anyway.”

“What!? No way! Absolutely not!”

And now, a double slip-up.

I was so focused on his hand that I forgot to control the rest of my body's tension. I had planned to fake being asleep to the end, no matter what, but why did he have to ruin it like this?

It really feels like I'm the only one happy about this little moment of contact. Somehow, that realization makes me feel a bit melancholic.

“Michiru, let's go.”

When the bus reached Kinkaku-ji, Miki-chan called out to me.

Ever since we stopped being “friends,” she started talking to me more directly, like this. In some ways, her approach changed the most among all of us. It was actually her who had invited me to join this group.

“Yeah.”

Miki-chan glanced briefly at Shinji-kun before stepping off the bus with me. She seemed a bit carsick—her complexion didn't look great. I bought her a bottle of water from a vending machine, and we sat on a bench, gazing at the golden reflection on the pond.

She's a strong-willed person, but she's not physically strong. There have been a few times she's had to cancel plans because she wasn't feeling well.

“…I just can't seem to get into the swing of things.”

“Why?”

“Because of what Takatsuki said. It made me embarrassed. I was already bad at being honest with myself, and now, unlike Kokomi or Kanae, I can't even play it cool.”

“Huh, I see.”

I didn't expect Miki-chan to realize she wasn't straightforward. I thought people like her—classic tsundere types—were usually oblivious to it.

Her long blonde hair, her tailored blouse, and the neatly tapered slacks she was wearing—was that flawless vibe not intentional after all?

“Still, you're being pretty honest with me.”

“That's because you've grown stronger. There's nothing embarrassing about leaning on someone stronger than you.”

“That's… kind of strange.”

“Well, that's just how it is. Women are probably wired that way.”

It felt like an overgeneralization, but I didn't bother to agree or disagree.

Still, what kind of relationship is it when someone can say all this to me but isn't my “friend”? I thought about it for a moment, but no answers came to mind. Maybe that ambiguity is exactly what I'm supposed to figure out.

…Caught in a strange mood, I watched the others.

Our classmates were slowly walking down the gravel path in a line. Shinji-kun was snapping photos of Kinkaku-ji. After a brief grin, he strolled cheerfully at the back of his little harem.

His favorite things—cooking, visiting temples and shrines—are oddly elderly hobbies. For some reason, I found that unexpectedly endearing.

“Michiru. Did Takatsuki say anything about me?”

“Yeah, he said he'd do his best.”

“Even though he's still recovering?”

“That doesn't matter to him. If he says he'll do something, he'll see it through to the end.”

“…I see.”

After a moment, Miki-chan stood up, and I followed. Her brisk steps crunched on the gravel as she slowly began to speak again.

“Michiru, have you ever thought about my past?”

“Nope, never. We made a rule not to pry into each other's pasts, remember?”

“…I've actually been curious for a long time. I was scared that my past might be the most pathetic one out of everyone's—that it wouldn't even compare to the others' and would be so ordinary that it was almost depressing.”

She kept facing forward, so I couldn't see her expression. But I could sense how she was feeling.

“If everyone said, ‘Oh, that's nothing special,' I don't think I'd be able to handle it. Honestly, I'm pretty weak, aren't I?”

I stepped ahead of Miki-chan slightly.

“Let's go.”

“…Yeah.”

When we rejoined the group, Kou-kun was chatting cheerfully with Kanae-chan. Shinji-kun and Kokomi-chan stood a little apart, watching the two of them. Surprisingly, Kokomi-chan didn't seem upset about it.

“You're back.”

“Yeah. Miki, are you feeling okay now?” Kou-kun asks.

It seems Shinji-kun's theory—that Kou-kun had started to pick up on the subtleties of others’ emotions—was accurate. In the past, he would have said something a bit more clueless, unintentionally cheering people up in the process.

“I'm fine. Michiru took care of me,” Miki-chan replies.

“I see.”

Kou-kun gives me a slightly awkward glance. We don't talk much anymore, but I feel like I understand him better than before. I simply nod in response, exchanging places with Kokomi-chan in the group.

…But there's a lingering unease.

That's because the comfort we'd found in staying uninvolved with each other might be disrupted. If Kou-kun starts to truly understand, would he be able to become a source of solace for the girls around him? That's the question.

“That's probably all part of Hareta's plan,” Shinji-kun says.

“What do you mean?”

As I explain the situation to him, Shinji-kun points his phone at Kinkaku-ji and takes a picture.

“Hey, you know this golden building where Buddha resides? Officially, it's called the Shariden. It's a three-story structure with a phoenix perched on top. That famous firebird is the only original relic from when it was first built. Everything else burned down and was rebuilt.”

“Whoa, really? But why bring this up all of a sudden?”

Shinji-kun, who's usually quite talkative, now sounded like a well-oiled machine, rattling off information even faster. While it was educational, I wished he'd address my question instead.

“Come here for a sec. Kakeru asked me on LINE to send him a photo,” he said.

Not understanding, I walked closer, and Shinji-kun turned on his phone's front camera to fit both of us in the frame. Just as the shutter clicked, I realized too late that I hadn't composed my face properly.

“…!?”

It happened so fast I couldn't react. Shinji-kun, seemingly indifferent, typed something into his phone and pocketed it. He'd probably sent the picture to Kakeru and was satisfied. Everything about the moment felt so abrupt it annoyed me.

…I'll ask Kakeru for the photo later.

“So, what were we talking about again?” Shinji-kun asked as he casually sipped on a bottle of green tea he'd mysteriously acquired.

“Something about how Hareta's indifference being resolved might distance him from the heroines' happiness?”

For someone who's supposedly introverted, he seemed way too comfortable posing for pictures. Could it be that Shinji-kun's part-time job at the izakaya involved interactions with younger women? Maybe he even took photos with them, winning over admirers with his intellectual charm.

“Michiru?”

…This is bad. My thoughts are spiraling out of control.

And the worst part? Feeling this way means that, somewhere along the line, I started to think of Shinji-kun as “mine.” Because everyone else was wary of him, I assumed his unwavering feelings were directed solely at me. That realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

When did it start? Maybe it was that way from the very beginning. Embarrassing.

“You said you'd help, so don't leave me hanging,” Shinji-kun said with a playful but pointed tone.

“…Yeah.”

Pouting, I must have come across as sulking because Shinji-kun seemed to grow exasperated and looked away from me. The astonishing thing about him is that he does this knowingly. It's not unconscious or an act of passive aggression—he fully understands how I feel but genuinely doesn't care about the affection directed at him.

It wouldn't hurt to ask how I feel once in a while, would it?

Trying to stay inconspicuous, I shrank back and gently rested my forehead against Shinji-kun's back with a soft thunk.

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