Chapter 10:
My Life is an Isekai, I think
When Katsuo returned to school the following week, he was afraid that things would be even worse with Harui and him than they were before. He was right, or at least he kind of was. She certainly was more blatantly ignoring him, but she did seem to draw less attention to herself when she did. Toshihiro didn’t seem to notice, or at least didn’t comment. Katsuo felt like Tasou did though, but he also chose not to comment. At least not when Katsuo was around.
That same week, Katsuo learned that there would be a festival held at one of the local markets towards the end of the month. It was originally to celebrate the start of the fishing season of the sea eel and flying squid. The festival took place shortly after the season began, usually a month before summer vacation started. Hayami had explained most of it to him.
“It’s actually a very old and traditional festival. But aside from the eel and squid, it doesn’t celebrate any special thing in particular. It mostly ends up being about food, games, and sometimes small fireworks. It can be a lot of fun.”
“Can be?”
“I haven’t been in the last couple of years.”
“Oh, I see.”
Katsuo had paused, uncertain of what to say next. Hayami had spoken as if there was a reason she hadn’t gone, but he didn’t want to pry.
“Well would you like to go this year?”
When he asked her this, Katsuo had expected some embarrassment from her. But instead, she smiled, almost sadly.
“I would.”
Her smile grew warmer.
“I would like that very much.”
Then came the embarrassment. She turned away, realizing what she had agreed to and how she had done it. But not before Katsuo had caught sight of the color spreading across her cheeks. The next day, while having lunch, Kame also asked about the festival.
“Are either of you going to the festival this weekend?”
Katsuo looked at Hayami, and she took a drink. So, Katsuo answered.
“Yeah, we are. Hayami-san told me about it yesterday.”
“Told you?”
“Er, she reminded me about it.”
He hesitated briefly before continuing.
“That is, I overheard some of our classmates talking about it. And Hayami-san reminded me about the festival this weekend. Can’t believe I’d forget a thing like that.”
He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. Hayami was focusing very intently on her lunch. Kame just appeared confused, or was that concern?
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you had, you hate eel.”
“W-what? I do?”
“Uh, yeah? You’ve always hated it.”
“Huh, I suppose my taste has changed.”
Kame looked flabbergasted.
“What? Since when?”
“Uh, recently. I think I really enjoy it now.”
Kame just shook her head.
“Sometimes, I feel like you’re a completely different person Katsuo.”
Katsuo and Hayami shared a look, but neither of them said anything.
Katsuo overheard several of his classmates mention the festival throughout the rest of that week. It seemed like their whole class would be there. At one point he found himself listening to a couple of the girls chatting about what to wear, one mentioned wearing her yukata. This made Katsuo think, which he partly did out loud.
“Yukata...”
“What?”
Hayami asked from behind him, she looked up at him from her book. He studied her, trying to picture her in a yukata. He must have looked at her too long without speaking, because she looked displeased.
“What did you say?”
“Oh, I was just wondering what you would look like in a yukata.”
He shrugged.
“That’s all.”
She colored, of course.
“A yukata, why a yukata? I know it’s nearly summertime, but the nights are still pretty chilly. S-surely you meant for the festival and not for- well whatever it is you were thinking.”
Katsuo threw up his hands in protest.
“No no, I just meant for the festival. I wasn’t thinking of anything else; I swear!”
They both turned away from one another, avoiding eye contact and conversation. A couple of other kids in class gave them odd looks, but no one commented. Eventually, Katsuo heard Hayami murmur from behind her book.
“I do have one.”
“What?”
“A yukata, but I haven’t worn it in a while.”
“Oh, I see.”
She slowly lowered her book down onto her desk. She cleared her throat, regaining her calm, cool composure.
“I will probably wear it, if you were wondering. I did say it was quite a traditional festival, after all.”
“Right, of course.”
“Hey Kimiko, did I hear you say you’re going to wear your yukata to the festival?”
Katsuo looked to see who had asked, it was Ichika Matsumoto. Katsuo hadn’t really talked to her, but like everyone else he’d figured out her name. She seemed to get along with everyone well in class. She and two other girls were close friends. Hayami cleared her throat again before responding.
“Yes, you heard correctly.”
Ichika turned back to her friends.
“See, I told you we wouldn’t be the only ones wearing them.”
“Yeah, yeah okay. I’ll wear mine too.”
The other two girls cheered, and they all laughed. Haruto turned to face Katsuo.
“What about you Katsuo-san? Are you going to wear one?”
“Who, me? Probably not.”
“Awe come on man; you’ve got to wear one! I’ll wear mine too! We can all wear one!”
He turned to the rest of the class, most of whom were looking at them now.
“How about it?”
Yūma Hayashi declared his agreement, beginning the chorus of voices to follow. It seemed the whole class was in agreement. Haruto grinned widely at Katsuo, but not as if he had won. He looked more supportive, as if he was helping Katsuo. What a strange and nice guy. Definitely strange. Katsuo sighed.
“Fine.”
Haruto cheered; he was joined by a few other students in his celebration. Katsuo just shook his head. A short while later, Katsuo and Hayami joined Kame for lunch.
“What was all the yelling about I heard earlier? I could hear it all the way from my class.”
Katsuo opened his coffee, set it to the side and then began opening his bento.
“We were discussing yukatas.”
“And cheering about them?”
“Well-“
Katsuo took a sip of his coffee. Before he had finished, Hayami picked up the conversation.
“Haruto Sato convinced the whole class to wear them to the festival.”
“Oh, how fun!” So, you’re all going? Your whole class?”
Hayami nodded.
“Apparently so.”
She gave Katsuo a look that he wouldn’t quite call a glare. He assumed she must think the whole classroom being involved was his fault. He shrugged internally. Oh well. There was nothing for it now. Then a thought occurred to him.
“I don’t think I even have a yukata. Not one that fits anyway.”
He added the last part just in case Kame remembered differently. She put a finger to her chin in thought.
“Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve seen you wear one in a couple of years.”
Katsuo kept eating; grateful he dodged any suspicion yet again. Kame snapped her fingers.
“I know! We can go shopping this Friday after school! That way we can pick it out with you!”
“Uh, sure.”
“How about it, Hayami-san?”
Hayami nodded.
“Sure, I don’t have anything planned that afternoon.”
“Yay!” Shopping trip! It’ll be fun!”
Before he knew, the rest of the week had gone by, and Friday was upon them. They had all agreed to meet at the station closest to where he and Hayami lived. After walking his sister home, and changing into some jeans and a t-shirt, Katsuo headed out the door.
As Katsuo neared the convenience store, he contemplated getting a coffee. He shook his head, opting not to carry it with him. Although it was the wrong time of day, he felt almost as if he was on his old morning routine. He missed that routine, but given the chance, Katsuo didn’t know that he’d trade it all back. He really liked his new friends and the semi-busy routine of spending time with them.
He approached the light at the intersection and waited. He glanced over at the park, really studying the differences. It was still odd, and a little interesting, what the differences from place to place or thing to thing were. Here it was just a moved bench, different tree, and the bars on the playground were a different color. Seemingly so minor, and yet made an obvious change.
A chime sounded, drawing Katsuo’s attention back to the road. He looked around but didn’t see anyone. Just a white truck approaching the intersection. Then he heard it again, a chiming sound seemingly from everywhere, and nowhere. He froze, trying to figure out why he knew that sound. The truck drove by, and Katsuo felt as if time slowed down. The chime sounded a final time, almost distantly now. The truck was cruising down the road. The driver, if there was one, oblivious to all that occurred.
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