Chapter 2: Why

♦♦♦

Hayasaka-san loves drinking tea. Holding the cup with both hands and gently blowing on it, she looks like a fluffy little animal.

A bit far from school, there’s a café that brews delicious tea. It has an old-fashioned, calming atmosphere, and perhaps due to the owner’s hobby, bookshelves and the counter are crammed with literary works.

When I open the door and step inside, I spot Hayasaka-san at a back table, happily sipping her tea.

It was after school, the day after it rained.

“Kirishima-kun, good work.”

Spotting me, Hayasaka-san waves with a delighted expression.

I sit across from her and order a coffee.

“Thanks for this.”

I hold out a plastic umbrella and say.

“It was you, right, Hayasaka-san? You left it in front of the clubroom.”

“Was it helpful?”

“You didn’t have to go out of your way.”

“It’s fine. I wanted to be useful to you, Kirishima-kun. That’s what I thought.”

“If I don’t, you’ll keep putting yourself last.” she says.

“You helped me out the other day, too, didn’t you?”

During a break, some guys were making crude jokes about Hayasaka-san’s body. Stuff like her being sexy or wanting to “play” with her—the usual nonsense. They were so loud that Hayasaka-san, standing a bit away, looked troubled.

Before I knew it, I’d kicked a trash can. That led to an argument with the guys, and by the next break, they were spreading rumors that “Kirishima likes Hayasaka.”

“Doing something like that, it’s only natural people would think you like me.”

“It’s the truth.”

“But it’s not good if Tachibana-san thinks that.”

“Actually, she asked me. If I like you, Hayasaka-san.”

“What did you say?”

“I said it’s not romantic. It’s a lie, but it was a bit tough.”

“That’s fine.”

Hayasaka-san says with a gentle smile.

“But, wow, just you and Tachibana-san in the Mystery Research Club, huh?”

Hayasaka-san says this while toying with her teacup. Her expression is calm, but there’s a faint hint of loneliness in it.

“I want to hear about it. Tell me about you and Tachibana-san. Have you gotten a little closer?”

“Is that okay?”

Talking about Tachibana-san with Hayasaka-san makes me a bit hesitant.

But Hayasaka-san says with a smile.

“I want to hear. Please tell me.”

 

♦♦♦

 

Tachibana-san shows up to the Mystery Research Club every day.

After school, she first practices the piano in the second music room next door. Once she’s done, she comes to the clubroom and reads foreign mystery novels.

Maybe because I’m nervous or because Tachibana-san is aloof, we don’t talk much.

We’ve talked about the piano once.

“Which song do you like, President?”

“Huh?”

“You can hear it, right? When I’m playing next door.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Which song do you like?”

“Let’s see…… maybe the one you’ve been playing over and over recently.”

“Liszt’s Un Sospiro.”

With that, Tachibana-san returns to her novel, and the conversation ends.

It’s the same when we talk about mysteries.

“Tachibana-san, got a favorite trick?”

“Anagrams.”

“I like narrative tricks.”

“Hmm.”

It’s always like this. But that day, unusually, she spoke more.

It was an afternoon with pouring rain.

“Hey, President.”

Tachibana-san calls out to me. She’s sitting across from me at the sofa set, flipping through the Love Notebook.

The manual of love, created by a Mystery Research Club alumnus.

“It says mysteries and romance are the same.”

“The three elements: How, Who, Why.”

How it’s done, who did it, and why. The Love Notebook uses this framework to introduce ways to make someone fall for you or figure out who your crush likes.

“But the Why section is kind of sparse.”

“That’s probably because Why in romance isn’t something you can answer simply.”

Why you fell for someone.

Sure, there are answers like their looks, personality, kindness, or reliability.

“But even if you say you fell for someone because they’re kind, if someone else is just as kind, would you fall for them? Probably not.”

The person you fell for just happened to be kind.

“In mysteries, Why is fleshed out clearly.”

Tachibana-san says. Why the crime was committed. There’s a motive, and then the act.

“But romance is different, you’re saying.”

Exactly.

“You don’t need a reason to fall in love.”

“Hmm.”

“Plus, asking ‘Why’ is kind of tactless, I think. Not just in romance, but in anything.”

But right now, I desperately want to ask.

I want to ask Tachibana-san, sitting there with her cool expression, Why.

Why did she join the Mystery Research Club?

Why is she okay being alone with me after school? Doesn’t her boyfriend say anything?

But I don’t want to ruin this delicate moment, so I end up saying nothing.

“The feeling of love comes first, and the reasons come later.”

Tachibana-san repeats, as if reviewing.

“You don’t fall for someone because they’re kind or cool. The person you fell for just happens to be kind or cool.”

“That’s right.”

“So, what does it feel like to fall in love?”

Tachibana-san asks with a straight face.

“How do you know you’re in love?”

“That’s……”

She sounds like she’s never been in love.

As I’m thinking, Tachibana-san leans forward. My eyes almost wander to the white inner layer visible through the gap in her collar. But before that, she says something outrageous.

“You could just tell me about your feelings for Hayasaka-san.”

“Huh?”

Time stops.

“You like Hayasaka-san, right?”

“W-What are you talking about?”

“Everyone was saying so. During lunch.”

“—Oh, that.”

It’s not like our second-choice relationship was exposed. That’s fine, then.

“You kicked the trash can to help Hayasaka-san.”

Tachibana-san says.

“That’s kindness, right?”

“Kindness and romantic feelings are different.”

“So, you’re not in love with Hayasaka-san?”

“……That’s right.”

“But you’ve been in love before, haven’t you?”

“More or less.”

“Then tell me.”

Tachibana-san presses closer. Her hair falls forward, beautiful.

“What’s it like to fall in love? How does it feel when you can say you’re in love?”

Her words and actions are indeed those of a girl who’s never been in love.

I answer, a bit flustered.

“It’s cliché, but it’s like your heart racing, that kind of feeling.”

“I see.”

Tachibana-san lowers her eyes, as if pondering.

“Have you never felt your heart race, Tachibana-san?”

“I haven’t really thought about it, but maybe not.”

Yet she has a boyfriend. What’s going on? Just as I can’t hold back and start to ask, Tachibana-san opens the Love Notebook and places it on the coffee table.

“President, let’s do this.”

It’s the How section of the Love Notebook.

How to make someone fall for you. In other words, the page about wooing techniques.

100 Ways to Make a Heart Race

The title and content—full of clichés like wall slams, leg slams, and neck pulls—make it hard to believe the author had an IQ of 180.

When she says “let’s do it,” I’m a bit stumped. It’s embarrassing, and leg slams are for bold, handsome characters, it’s not my style.

“I want to feel my heart race.”

“Even if you say that……”

Tachibana-san has probably never been in love.

That might mean her boyfriend is a boyfriend in name only. But even so, by societal standards, I shouldn’t do this with a girl who has a boyfriend. So—

“Let’s head home for today. It’s raining outside.”

“Okay.”

Tachibana-san stands up easily and starts getting ready to leave.

“I guess I made a bothersome request.”

“It’s not bothersome, but……”

“You looked troubled, President.”

”It’s my fault.” she says.

“I won’t ask again.”

With a lonely expression, she starts to leave the clubroom.

It feels like I hurt her, and my chest aches.

No choice, then. Fine. I slap my cheeks with both hands.

Switch flipped, I’m in hot-guy mode, the protagonist of a drama.

I shove my hands in my pockets and kick the wall.

“Hey, wait up!”

I block Tachibana-san’s path with my foot.

“Pfft.”

Tachibana-san’s face breaks into a laugh. It’s the first time I’ve seen her smile so brightly.

“That’s it, right? A leg slam!”

The move where a rough, domineering character forcefully stops the heroine from leaving. High leg, rough tone, and bold gestures are key. The Love Notebook said so.

“You’re really getting into it, President.”

“Well, might as well wait till the rain lightens up.”

“You’re gonna make my heart race, huh?”

“Just a little.”

So what if she has a boyfriend? I threw out society’s rules when I decided to date my second choice. Besides, didn’t Osamu Dazai write something about society being “you”?

I’m always bound by some imaginary societal image, trying to fit myself into it. So, at least with love, I’ll be original.

“Alright, let’s do it.”

“Yeah, let’s try.”

That’s how things turned out.

 

♦♦♦

 

First, we decided to try the classic wall slam.

I have Tachibana-san stand in front of the wall. I’m a bit over 170 cm tall, and Tachibana-san is around 160 cm, so I’m looking slightly down at her.

“When it comes to making someone’s heart race, I think it depends on the person. So, even if I can’t make you feel that way, someone else might.”

“Or maybe it’s only you who can make my heart race. That’s possible, right?”

Tachibana-san, what a thing to say. That would be amazing.

“Also, what we’re about to do is stuff straight out of shoujo manga. Personally, I think there’s no way a girl would get flustered over this.”

“What if there is one?”

“She’d probably be an easy girl.”

“I see.”

“Alright, here goes.”

I place my hand on the wall next to Tachibana-san’s face. But it just makes a weak slap sound, and it feels kind of lame. Tachibana-san tilts her head.

“That felt kinda flat. It’s different from the leg slam earlier.”

Tachibana-san thinks for a moment.

“There’s no line. President, say something while you do it.”

“I managed it on impulse earlier, but that was pretty embarrassing.”

“I’m the one who should be embarrassed.”

Says Tachibana-san, who doesn’t look like she’d ever get flustered.

“Fine. I’ll do it without getting shy, so don’t laugh.”

“Of course.”

One more time.

I slam my hand against the wall with force and say.

“Look only at me.”

I cast aside my embarrassment.

Tachibana-san, with her usual emotionless expression, nods and says, “Okay.”

“Let’s do an elbow slam, too.”

It seems I passed.

“Change the line each time. Something a bit forceful is good.”

“Got it.”

Tachibana-san’s pretty particular. Maybe she’s got an artist’s temperament.

“Here goes.”

This time, I press my elbow against the wall. It’s a variation of the wall slam, the so-called elbow slam. It’s closer than using my hand.

Leaning over Tachibana-san, I say.

“I’m not letting you go home tonight.”

Tachibana-san doesn’t move, her eyes locked on mine. Up close, she’s delicate like glasswork, with an almost unreal beauty.

“Did your heart race?”

“……Maybe.”

As she says this, Tachibana-san suddenly pulls my tie, bringing our faces closer until our foreheads almost touch. Her long lashes, her cool white cheeks—everything is beautiful.

“……Hey, is your heart racing?”

Tachibana-san asks.

It’s racing. But it’s been racing this whole time, even without this. Because Tachibana-san is my number one.

“……Tachibana-san, this is a ‘neck pull,’ huh?”

“Right. It was in the notebook.”

A move where a girl grabs a guy’s tie, pulls him close, and makes his heart race.

“You’re pretty into this, Tachibana-san.”

“Let’s keep going.”

So, we went through the techniques listed in the Love Notebook one by one.

Floor slam, chair spin, and all sorts of others.

We even did the one-earbud thing, listening to music with our ears connected.

We didn’t do anything involving skin-to-skin contact.

It’s well-known that Tachibana-san avoids touching guys. When passing someone between desks, she makes her slim frame even narrower to avoid contact, and if a male teacher tries to put a hand on her shoulder, she wards them off with the tip of her mechanical pencil.

But after trying a bunch of heart-racing techniques, when I was exhausted and resting on the sofa, Tachibana-san came over and said.

“Let’s do a shoulder lean last.”

A shoulder lean is when a guy rests his head on a girl’s shoulder. It’s supposed to be emotional if the guy shows vulnerability and acts clingy.

“Is that okay?”

“It’s fine.”

I shift to sit shallowly and lean my head on Tachibana-san’s shoulder.

I feel her delicate frame. I want to say something witty, but I can’t get any words out.

The sound of rain comes from outside the window, creating a tender mood.

Suddenly, Tachibana-san touches my head with her other hand. It’s an exploratory touch, like she’s checking the shape of my skull.

“Tachibana-san?”

I can’t help but ask, wanting to know why she’s doing this.

But I’m the only one nervous; Tachibana-san is completely calm.

“Something wrong?”

She asks back with a blank expression.

It really seems like Tachibana-san is doing this out of pure curiosity.

“……Should we head home soon?”

I say.

“Yeah.”

We pull apart naturally, and club activities end. We get ready and leave the clubroom.

As I open the door, something falls with a clatter.

It’s a plastic umbrella.

There’s a lingering sense that someone was just there.

“Tachibana-san, got an umbrella?”

I pick up the plastic umbrella and say.

Tachibana-san peeks into her bag, pauses, and then says.

“—I don’t.”

 

♦♦♦

 

“I’m glad the umbrella was useful.”

Hayasaka-san says, glancing at the plastic umbrella under the table. It’s the one I returned as soon as I entered the café.

“You two shared one umbrella, right?”

“Yeah.”

I wonder why.

I couldn’t tell Hayasaka-san even half of what happened with Tachibana-san.

I only said we read books together in the clubroom on a rainy day, chatted a bit, and went home sharing the umbrella Hayasaka-san left by the door. I didn’t mention the wall slams or shoulder leans.

If I think I’m sparing Hayasaka-san’s feelings by not telling her I got close with Tachibana-san, I’m being conceited.

“You shared an umbrella, huh? How was it?”

“Kinda awkward. We both made sure our shoulders didn’t touch on the way back.”

“I see……”

“You didn’t have to leave your umbrella back there……”

‘Helping your number one might be the hardest thing.’

That’s what Hayasaka-san said at karaoke.

“It’s fine. You’ve been helping me so much, Kirishima-kun, so this time I wanted to help you.”

“By the way,” Hayasaka-san says.

“Kirishima-kun, are you still checking Tachibana-san’s boyfriend’s SNS?”

“Well, it’s a habit.”

Hayasaka-san knows about my weird quirk. I didn’t tell her myself.

It’s what led to us dating.

Two months ago, in May, when I barely spoke to Hayasaka-san.

I dropped my phone on the station platform. Hayasaka-san, who happened to be nearby, picked it up and handed it back. That’s when she saw Tachibana-san’s picture on the SNS screen.

“You like Tachibana-san, don’t you, Kirishima-kun?”

That’s what she said.

Apparently, Hayasaka-san had noticed I was always following Tachibana-san with my eyes.

“By the way, my number two is you, Hayasaka-san.”

I said that to hide my embarrassment at having my crush called out.

“But why were you watching where I was looking?”

When I asked, Hayasaka-san blushed and answered jokingly, as if to brush it off.

“Because I like you, Kirishima-kun.”

She held up two fingers.

“As my number two.”

That’s how we started dating as second choices.

As I’m recalling this, the café waiter notices my empty cup and sends me a refined glance. I order the same coffee again.

“You should probably stop checking Tachibana-san’s boyfriend’s SNS for a while.”

After the order, Hayasaka-san says, looking at my phone on the table.

“Why?”

“Seeing pictures of Tachibana-san and her boyfriend being close would bum you out, right?”

“It always makes me feel miserable.”

“It’s bad for your health.”

“But the more miserable I feel, the more real my feelings for Tachibana-san become.”

“You’re too twisted, Kirishima-kun.”

“Yeah.”

As I say this, I pick up my phone.

“Thanks, Hayasaka-san. But I’m fine.”

I have a vague sense of what’s happened.

I open the SNS page.

There’s a selfie of Tachibana-san’s boyfriend doing a wall slam and elbow slam on her.

I want to feel my heart race.

That’s what Tachibana-san said. So, she practiced with me and did it for real with her boyfriend.

Wanting to feel her heart race with her boyfriend is a natural flow.

“You okay, Kirishima-kun?”

“I’m fine. Actually, this is getting interesting.”

“Says the guy spilling coffee from his mouth.”

Hayasaka-san pokes my loafer with her toe.

“Can I be honest?”

“Sure.”

“I really like you when you’re depressed about Tachibana-san.”

“That’s pretty twisted of you, too, Hayasaka-san.”

“Yeah, it is. Part of me wants to cheer on your love, but part of me gets jealous of Tachibana-san. So when you’re feeling down, I’m a little happy.”

I’m properly cheering for your number one love, Hayasaka-san says.

“But when I saw this SNS post, I felt a bit relieved. Like, I can still be your girlfriend, Kirishima-kun.”

“Nothing’s likely to happen between me and Tachibana-san for now.”

“No chance?”

“Yeah. Tachibana-san doesn’t get her heart racing with me.”

“Sorry for thinking ‘good,’” she says.

Hayasaka-san presses her bangs down.

“I feel like a bad girl.”

“That’s fine.”

That’s the kind of relationship we have. We genuinely like each other, so we want to support each other’s love, but we also don’t want the other to leave. Both feelings coexist.

“Anyway, let’s plan the weekend.”

“Yeah.”

That was the reason we gathered at this café.

In the quiet shop, listening to the sound of coffee being poured, we discuss what to do over the weekend.

Since the only time our schedules align is Saturday morning, we decide to go out together then.

Just the morning.

In the afternoon, Hayasaka-san has plans to meet her number one.

“Kirishima-kun, you don’t mind?”

“About what?”

“I mean, I’m cutting our time short to go see them.”

“It’s fine. Number one comes first.”

“You don’t get jealous much, huh, Kirishima-kun? I get jealous, though.”

Why’s that, Hayasaka-san wonders, tilting her head.

“Maybe because I know Tachibana-san? You don’t know my number one, right?”

“Yeah, that’s probably part of it.”

They’re from another school, so we never cross paths.

“But you could get a little jealous, you know, Kirishima-kun.”

“Next time, I’ll make a super troubled face.”

“Ehehe, looking forward to it.”

After planning the weekend, we leave the café and walk home holding hands.

Hayasaka-san tries different ways of holding my hand, enjoying the sensation.

“I love touching you, Kirishima-kun.”

“Even so, you’re clinging too much.”

“Not at all. I’m actually holding back a lot.”

“What if you didn’t hold back?”

“Like this.”

It was less holding hands and more like full-on hugging.

“Hayasaka-san, this is bad. Even if we’re far from school—”

“Hey, Kirishima-kun, come to my place again next time.”

“Are you listening?”

“I feel like the more we touch, the closer we get.”

“There are chimpanzees that reduce conflict through physical contact, but……”

“Oh?”

Hayasaka-san’s eyes light up. I said something unnecessary.

“Then let’s do lots of skinship, too!”

Dragging a clingy Hayasaka-san, who’s pressing her face against me, we head home.

The sun has set, and the air smells of a summer night. For some reason, my heart races. Summer nights bring fireworks and festivals, so maybe I’m unconsciously expecting something fun.

Even so, I think to myself.

Hayasaka-san trusts me unconditionally.

Yet, in our conversation, I told two lies.

The first was saying I don’t know her number one.

Actually, I know them, and we’re pretty close.

The second was—

Tachibana-san doesn’t get her heart racing with me.

That’s what I said.

But the story of that rainy day has a continuation.

Tachibana-san probably does get her heart racing with me.

 

♦♦♦

 

“Tachibana-san, got an umbrella?”

“—I don’t.”

After locking eyes for a moment in the rain-soaked hallway, I said.

“Wanna walk to the station together?”

Tachibana-san nods quietly.

We shared the plastic umbrella as if it were the most natural thing. Tachibana-san was so calm that it felt completely normal to me, too.

“You don’t have to tilt the umbrella so much toward me.”

Tachibana-san lifts the edge of the umbrella with her fingers.

“Your shoulder’s getting wet, President.”

To fit us both under the umbrella, Tachibana-san moves closer to the center.

Our shoulders bump with each step.

Tachibana-san must really be a girl who’s never been in love. That’s why she’s so unfazed by our shoulders touching. She doesn’t know what it means or think about what comes next.

But now, she’s starting to get curious and learn about making her heart race.

With her sharp senses, she’ll probably figure things out quickly. What kind of girl will she become then?

“We did a lot today, huh?”

“Yeah. Wall slam, elbow slam, and neck pull, too.”

“You said at the start that only an easy girl would get flustered by stuff like that.”

“Pretty much.”

A refreshing scent comes from Tachibana-san beside me.

Meanwhile, I’m sweating. Being under one umbrella makes me self-conscious, and I try to pull away slightly. But before I can, Tachibana-san grabs the sleeve of my shirt.

“You’ll get wet.”

“O-Oh……”

It feels like she’s saying don’t pull away, and we keep walking at that distance.

It’s not just our shoulders bumping. Her sleeve brushes my arm, and her long hair grazes me. My attention focuses there. Tachibana-san remains as calm as ever.

We reach the station, and since we’re going in opposite directions, we part at the ticket gate.

“See ya.”

Tachibana-san waves. It’s a lively gesture, her expression bright.

A smile from a girl who rarely smiles is really something.

Just as I think she’s heading to the platform, she turns back.

“President, um.”

“What?”

With a shy expression, Tachibana-san says.

“I might be a pretty easy girl.”

 

♦♦♦

 

“I was worried about ya, man.”

The student council president, Maki, says.

During lunch break, he shows up at the clubroom where I’m studying for finals.

“Thought you might be down in the dumps.”

“Why would I be?”

“Tachibana’s boyfriend’s SNS.”

“Oh, that.”

“You seem surprisingly fine. The other guys are practically dead.”

There are quite a few people besides me checking that SNS account.

The wall slam picture Tachibana-san’s boyfriend posted dealt a huge blow to her many fans. Right now, the school is littered with their metaphorical corpses.

“Seeing them look that close is rough.”

“But those guys are pretty tough. They still believe there’s hope.”

“What hope?”

“Tachibana hates being touched by guys, right? Looks like she hasn’t even let her boyfriend touch her.”

Apparently, a bunch of people saw Tachibana-san gracefully dodge her boyfriend when he reached out to stop her in the hallway today.

“But just being her boyfriend puts him way ahead.”

As we’re talking, footsteps approach from the hallway.

The door opens, and Tachibana-san walks in, holding study materials. Lately, she’s been coming to the clubroom during lunch to study.

“Guess I’ll get outta here.”

Maki leaves as if switching places with her. It’s just me and Tachibana-san now.

“What were you talking about?”

“Nothing much.”

“I see.”

Tachibana-san sits on the sofa, spreading out her textbook and notebook. Seems she’s in trouble if she doesn’t study.

She’s perfect in music and art, decent in languages, but terrible at subjects like world history, math, and chemistry—the “study” subjects.

With her cool demeanor, I thought she’d handle everything effortlessly, but she’s getting less-than-stellar grades with that same cool face.

She’s the opposite of Hayasaka-san, who consistently scores above average in every subject.

“What subject are you doing, President?”

“Math. You, Tachibana-san?”

“World history.”

Saying that, Tachibana-san opens her study guide and starts reading. But soon, she begins to nod off. Studying must be boring. And then, sitting perfectly upright, she falls asleep.

Long lashes, delicate eyelids, a wrinkle-free uniform skirt. Even asleep, she’s picturesque.

But no matter how long I look, I can’t read her heart.

I fiddle with my phone and check Tachibana-san’s boyfriend’s SNS again.

Wall slams, elbow slams—various pictures are posted.

But no matter how many times I look, there’s no shoulder lean.

All sorts of whys float through my mind.

Why are there no pictures of her being touched by her boyfriend?

Why is she okay with me touching her?

Why did she say she didn’t have an umbrella when I saw a folded one in her bag as she opened it outside the clubroom?

In the end, I can’t ask anything, and I just gaze at Tachibana-san’s sleeping face.