002

After finishing the library cleanup, Takanashi and I decided to rest in the schoolyard before heading home. It wasn't far from the library. The yard was sandwiched between the main building and the school facility building—where the library and the student council office were. Takanashi wanted to treat me to a cold drink for my hard work.

“Yamato‑kun is definitely a coffee person, right? I’m sure you want coffee.”

She moved her index finger as she looked for the right choice, saying that.

“Because you’re always daydreaming. Daydreamers love coffee.”

She said it based on several logical premises. Actually, her guess wasn’t off.

“MAX Coffee, I think.”

“A very mature choice.”

I love Chiba coffee. There’s no coffee that good anywhere else in Japan.

“Got it. Please wait a moment until your order arrives.”

Takanashi slipped some coins into the machine. Her fingers pressed two buttons, and our orders came out. She took both drink cartons from the machine and handed one to me. The girl had chosen green tea. A very mature choice.

We sat on a long bench near the machine. Takanashi immediately pierced the straw into her tea carton and began sipping patiently. She drank slowly, savouring every sip as deeply as possible. This was the first time I’d seen a girl drink like that in this day and age. Takanashi Kotori really wasn’t the stereotypical type. That was the drinking style of a quiet kindergartener.

“Drinking cold tea after work is so refreshing...” Takanashi said, smiling widely, raising her tea carton to the air. “My fatigue is completely gone. Green tea is amazing!”

“No tired person would shout with that much energy, you know. And actually, you haven’t looked tired at all from the start.”

She turned to me. Her eyes looked surprised.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Her energy—or rather, her stamina—was indeed a bit higher than most people. She had a strong physique.

“Maybe because my energy has been recharged by this cold tea. That’s why I feel fresh again. Besides, caffeine does boost your energy.”

“Caffeine?”

“An alkaloid in tea leaves. Its benefits are widely used as medicine, especially for fatigue. The chemical formula is C₈H₁₀N₄O₂.”

She said it with a wide smile. The smile of a genius.

“Is that so? I didn’t know that.”

“Eh, really?” she said, pointing at me with a surprised look. “That’s common knowledge.”

I only knew that oxygen is O₂ and carbon dioxide is CO₂. H₂O, if I’m not mistaken, is hydrogen. And blood types are A, B, O, and AB.

“I didn’t know that.”

“That means you lack knowledge.”

“You just know too much.”

“I don’t know a lot. I only know the things I’ve learned.”

“How humble of you.”

She smiled. A slap landed on my back.

“Oh my, I’m getting embarrassed. Are you complimenting me?”

Overreacting as usual.

“Eh— Ah... Yeah. I’m complimenting you.”

“Ehehe.” Takanashi laughed briefly. “That’s dangerous, you know.”

“Dangerous?”

“You know I’m a girl who loves being praised, right?”

No one ever admits that kind of trait so openly, you know. I think she’s the only person in the world who does.

“As far as I know, you do like getting compliments. Praise makes you work harder.”

“I’m the dere dere type,” she said. “But maybe not, actually. Because a character who gets really happy when praised leans more toward tsundere, right.”

That was common knowledge from anime. So she knew terms like that, too. I thought this girl didn’t understand anything besides studying and being a role model for society. I never expected she watched anime.

“Like Taiga from Toradora.”

She really did know a lot.

“So, what’s the connection to the danger you mentioned earlier?” I asked, then sipped my coffee.

“I might fall in love with you because of that praise.”

A second later, the coffee I was about to swallow sprayed out.

“Oh no, what happened?”

“......”

This girl really was extreme.

“I‑it’s nothing... Nothing...”

Please, someone, don’t be too rough with her if you ever become her husband.

“Wow, your chin is covered in coffee.”

“Yeah.”

And whose fault is that, you think?

“Use this.”

She handed me a handkerchief.

“Thanks.”

I wiped my coffee‑stained chin with Takanashi’s handkerchief. It smelled like tea leaves. I wasn’t surprised it smelled that way—her family owned a tea plantation and processing factory, after all.

“That’s an expensive handkerchief, you know.”

“Huh?”

“A gift from my father from France last week. I’ve never used it even once.”

“Hah?”

“You’re so lucky. You get to use a French handkerchief without having to go there to buy one. I’m jealous.”

This girl... Give me a break... Where’s your logic, Takanashi‑san?

“I‑I’ll replace it...”

“It costs 10 Euros.”

“10 Euros, huh... How many Yen is that?”

“I don’t think I need to tell you,” Takanashi said with a mocking smile. “Besides, you don’t even know what currency the Euro is, do you.”

“Most people don’t know. But I’m different.”

Takanashi’s mouth fell open slightly. Shocked.

“What’s the difference?”

“I’ve held a 100‑Euro bill before. The one with the gate and the map of Europe.”

“Wow...” She exclaimed. “That sounds like something people who’ve seen it on Google would say.”

“I’m serious! I really have held European money, you know!”

Takanashi smiled, raised both hands, and calmed me down. She seemed to believe me now.

“Fine, let’s say that’s true.”

“You don’t believe me at all, do you.”

“I do believe you. You never lie, after all. So I believe you.”

It was clear she said that just to annoy me. I don’t know why, but Takanashi had always loved teasing and stabbing me with her words. Out of all the people in class, I was the only one she treated like this. I felt bullied.

“So, where did you get that Euro money?” Takanashi continued.

“From a European, of course.”

“A European? You’ve met a European? Where?”

“Romania.”

“No way. Come on, impossible.”

“Really.”

I even live with her now. It’s been two years since that happened.

“So that means you’ve been to Romania, right?”

“Yeah. Back in middle school. A long time ago.”

Takanashi often saw me as a hambunhiki. That was her term for people who go to school but have no activities outside of that. Because I go to school, I couldn’t be considered a full hikikomori. A real hikikomori wouldn’t leave their room for any reason, let alone travel to a country on the other side of the continent.

“That’s surprising. I thought you were just a lazy guy who only cared about his room and his weekly anime updates.”

I’m flattered that you believe my confession. But somehow, it still stings. It seemed Takanashi Kotori really saw me as far below the normal human standard. I couldn’t really comment on that, because she wasn’t wrong. Besides, I didn’t live with a human. Clearly, that wasn’t normal at all.

“You really are different, you know.”

Takanashi’s voice grew lower and softer. She tilted her head, observing my face with one eye closed. Her glasses went askew. The pose made my heart pound. I didn’t want to look at that face for too long.

“I’m glad I got to hear another crucial thing about you.”

“Oh. Is that so.”

I looked away.

“I’m also glad we’re in the same class again this year,” Takanashi continued. “Talking with Yamato‑kun is really fun.”

Fun because you get to throw your sadistic remarks to your heart’s content, is that it? Is that a blessing for me? Give me a break.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being willing to be my friend.”

As if a storm had passed before me, the summer evening wind blew stronger. Those words also struck my body with a leap of emotion. She’d just said it. Friend. Tomodachi. Friend. All those words mean the same thing on an equal level. Their meaning is similar too: someone you like or enjoy being with.

“You think so?”

“Yes. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

She admitted it. There was no shame in her words. She really wanted me to be her friend. No negativity in that testimony.

“Friend, huh...”

But unfortunately, I couldn’t accept that feeling. I hadn’t made any friendship contract ever since I started living again as a human. I didn’t want to.

After the incident in Transylvania two years ago, I no longer saw the world as I used to. Orthodoxy and syllogism no longer existed in my eyes—not fully. Because I no longer lived as an ordinary human. And unfortunately, I was forced not to stand out to anyone.

The reason I always sat alone, ignoring everyone, and preferred being ignored, was because of the condition that bound me. Being friends with me was the same as courting danger. Danger for us, and danger for them. I couldn’t accept that concept. For Takanashi Kotori’s safety. That’s why—I couldn’t be her friend.

“I can’t be your friend, Takanashi.”

I raised my head, gazing at the vast sky. Thick clouds were pushed by the strong wind, moving, sailing, drifting through the air without rest. Just like the restlessness in my heart and this life of mine. Hard to make it stop.

“Why do you say that?”

Takanashi’s voice softened again. Her gaze softened too.

“I don’t know. Thinking about that word confuses me.”

“Confused about what?”

“Aaah... I don’t know either.”

“So we’re not friends?”

“......”

“Hmm... but we’re close. It’s impossible for us to be close but not friends,” Takanashi said, adjusting her glasses back into place.

“That’s because we sit next to each other, so we’re just close.”

“Then if we’re not friends, what’s our relationship?”

I thought about it again. If placed in a hierarchy, Takanashi clearly had a higher rank than me. Besides being the second‑best student in school, she was also my class president. The relationship between classmates couldn’t always be called “friends” in a general sense. We, the members of the class, could end up as just people who know each other, merely people in the same classroom, rivals, enemies, or even completely unrelated.

But if it was between class president and subordinate, maybe that description fit our relationship better. There was only one definite answer.

“We’re like Keroro and his platoon, I think.”

Because of that answer, Takanashi tilted her head, half confused.

“You mean, leader and subordinate, right?”

She knew that series. Good. So no need to explain further.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

Her face showed an instant grimace.

“So I’m the green, frog‑like Sergeant?”

“...Um, that’s just an analogy. You don’t have to take it so seriously.”

“But a frog. A male frog.”

She really was serious about many things, especially concerning herself.

“So essentially, our relationship is at the leader‑subordinate stage?” Takanashi said, repeating the metaphor.

“Yes. Not friends, but subordinate. I’m your underling.”

Actually, I always ended up as someone’s pawn. Fate truly wasn’t fair to all creatures.

“Why?”

Takanashi stared straight at me.

“Why does it have to be just leader‑subordinate? Why can’t we be friends?”

She moved her face closer, staring at me more closely. Her eyes sharpened like an eagle aiming at its prey.

“Don’t you want to be friends with me?”

“Umm... If I say no, will you be angry?”

“Not really... but it will make me sad.”

You already look sad even before I say it.

“I have a reason why I don’t want to be friends with anyone.”

“Even with me?”

“Um— Yeah.”

“Even with a pretty girl like me?”

Pretty girls sure do like to call themselves pretty, don’t they. A trait that needs immediate renovation.

“Ah... yeah...”

“Even if that means missing the chance to have a pretty girlfriend?”

That mysterious statement sparked my curiosity.

“What do you mean?”

“Umm, well, I mean... if we’re friends, isn’t there a chance I might fall in love with you? That relationship could develop further, right?”

Fall in love with me? Give me a break. That’s high‑level surrealism, way overblown, you know.

“What good thing about me would even interest you? Don’t you know I’m the emptiest person in the whole class? There’s nothing outstanding about me at all. That’s impossible.”

Why was I admitting all of this?

“Yeah. Even so.”

“Hmm...”

She scrutinized my face. Very focused and long, to the point that a single second felt frozen. Her glasses reflected the evening light onto my face. Then Takanashi puffed out her cheeks.

“You really are different. Actually, very stupid.”

“W‑why would you say that...?”

“Because no one has ever rejected me before. You know I’m popular, right. People praise everything about me.”

Yeah. Praises that would make anyone jealous.

“Yamato‑kun and Kasuga‑san are the same.”

Takanashi jumped off the bench, stood with her hands behind her hips, walked forward, then turned back to face me. An annoyed expression adorned her face.

Why did it become so sentimental? Did I say something wrong? And just now, Takanashi mentioned Kasuga’s name.

“But at least, even so,” slowly her lips carved a smile again, “you’re still here with me. Not like Kasuga‑san. I think I can still be a little grateful.”

There was sadness in those eyes. Sadness I had never seen on Takanashi Kotori’s face before.

I’d known her since a year ago. We sat next to each other in first year and grew close from there. Since then, her face had never shown any expression other than smiles and the firmness of a leader, taking over the duties that Kasuga Kaneko should have handled. This girl was a hard worker, very rare among girls her age.

She also monitored school activities—especially the library—as a student council member. She also ran the city library every Sunday. She really loved books. She could spend an entire holiday at the library, studying more than ten books, spending her day doing nothing but reading. She preferred books to phones. A little strange in this ultra‑advanced age that a human—especially a girl—didn’t carry a phone as her primary necessity. She was somewhat old‑fashioned, that Takanashi. I’d never seen her use any portable device other than an electronic dictionary at school. She couldn’t operate a computer, or even make a phone call—she admitted that herself.

There was still a lot of common knowledge about Takanashi Kotori that I knew. But among all that, I’d never seen the expression in front of me right now. I really wasn’t her friend—just close at school. Even so, I knew a lot about her. More than others knew, heard, or saw.

But not that sad face. I’d never seen that face at all. That sadness—that suddenly appearing sadness—wasn’t in my memory of her.

“Actually, Kasuga‑san and I went to the same middle school.”

Takanashi said this while turning her back to me.

“Same school?”

She nodded. Her head tilted up to the sky. Both hands still folded behind her waist. Her green tea carton still had some left. Half, maybe.

“From first year to third year, we were always in the same class. And from then on, we built a good ‘president‑vice president’ relationship,” she continued, with very anticipatory praise. “Kasuga‑san really was the best leader. Not only was she ranked first academically, she was also attentive and held high concern for her classmates and everyone who was part of the school. She was an extraordinary figure.”

Takanashi’s words seemed to express continuous admiration. Admiration she had built over a very long time and maintained even now.

She turned back around to face me. Her face was puffy. The thick‑framed glasses slipped down her nose. Her smile faded.

“But somehow, suddenly, Kasuga‑san changed when she entered this high school. She’s like a different person. Very cold, inattentive, and empty. I don’t know that person. She’s not the Kasuga‑san from before.”

That explanation came precisely from someone close to Kasuga Kaneko. This was the first time I’d heard a direct story about Kasuga Kaneko from someone who knew her. More than that—her vice president for three consecutive years. I now understood where Takanashi’s firm and effective leadership qualities came from.

“Even though at graduation we promised to be class officers again in high school. We also agreed to run for the student council election. But on the first day Kasuga‑san came to school...”

Takanashi paused for a moment. She looked down, unable to contain her feelings.

“She changed...”

I now understood the source of that sadness.

“It’s as if she doesn’t know me at all. She doesn’t even appear as the person I knew. That Kasuga‑san isn’t the same Kasuga‑san from middle school. She’s so different from our Kasuga‑san...”

I didn’t go to the same middle school as those two. So I didn’t know exactly what the Kasuga‑san Takanashi knew was like.

Actually, it was quite surprising to learn that Takanashi and Kasuga had gone to the same middle school, even been in the same class for three years, and had worked together as class officers from the start. Maybe that was why Takanashi always looked sad when Kasuga ignored her whenever she tried to talk. I’d never considered that possibility.

“I don’t know why it happened,” Takanashi said after a moment of silence. “But there’s something behind Kasuga‑san’s change in attitude.”

“Something?”

Takanashi lifted her face again, staring straight at me.

“There must be—there must be something that made her change.”

“You mean, a cause?”

Takanashi nodded briefly. “Yes. A reason strong enough to make her depressed and stressed, causing suppression in her psychology and forcibly overhauling her personality. A person can’t just change for no reason, right.”

She was right. And that explanation was really scientific.

“That’s why I’m going to ask Mikami‑sensei to help with an investigation,” Takanashi continued, stepping forward and spontaneously grabbing both my shoulders. “You can help me too, right, Yamato‑kun?”

“Hah?”

“Help me figure out Kasuga‑san’s problem.”

Just like that?! Where’s the prologue?! She really was too instant!

“You have to help me.” She stared intently, with firm eyes. “That’s an order.”

“A‑an order?!”

“Do it to make me happy again, okay? Please.”

That wasn’t how you pleaded. And why were you pleading with such forceful eyes?! Takanashi Kotori really was a scary girl. I shouldn’t have read Keroro Gunsou yesterday.