Miss Koga Won't Talk to Me... (This Is a Crisis)

Ding!

Before the stream began, Yukari glanced down at the chime that had gone off out of nowhere. Misscode was flagged with a new DM. The sender was Izumi.

The time was 8:29. No matter how she turned it over, that was far too late for someone who had only taken a look and gone home. And Yukari's guess landed dead on.

Because along with that message, the photos arrived. The campfire just catching. The flames at their height, burning beautifully. And at the end, a gray scene gone completely quiet, ash drifting loose on the air. Izumi herself was in none of them. They even looked as if they'd been taken from indoors, from a fair height, looking down, so the people below never quite resolved into faces. So very like her, Yukari thought, and laughed.

"Aah. This turned out completely different from the plan."

Originally, today, she had expected Izumi to ask her to be friends. She'd been a little jealous that Suzuha was the one who received a request like that, and she had wanted to grow close to Izumi herself. But far from being asked, she was the one who, at the very end, declared herself a friend first. The foolish little smile she got to see then was simply too cute. And those blue eyes—eyes she only truly saw at the end, only once they were about to part—were terribly beautiful.

"So there was a reason Suzuha brings Izumi up every single time."

Well. This was fine too, she decided.

"Ahem. Ahem. Hmm. ...Shall we begin?"

Somehow it was already 8:34. Time to go live.

"Aaah, of course it did. As if any trouble could possibly befall this body."

"I went and hung out with Izumi. I'm sorry I couldn't stream, but it couldn't be helped."

Watching the chat detonate, Yukari grinned, sharp and pleased.

"Akakat! A shame, but it's a secret. If you're curious, go ask on that one's stream later."

Childish, perhaps. Even so, Yukari still wanted to savor—a little longer, and all by herself—the memories she had just made with her new, cute friend.

"Ah, um—"

"Yes, miss. Is there something you need?"

"Ah, yes. I understand there's a friend here named Kayano Mina. When I come in, in a little bit, I'd like to request that she be the one to serve me."

A customer who had picked Kayano out by name, just like that. Miyauchi looked the woman over. She wore a hat, and pink-blonde hair spilled long down her back; beneath the brim, her eyes glittered as if she could hardly wait. She was shorter than Miyauchi, yet she looked a few years older—the impression of a bright, lively older girl was strong.

"Um... may I ask what your relationship to Miss Kayano is?"

It was very unlikely anything was wrong. Still, if some problem did arise, it would become a headache, so Miyauchi asked who she was. The woman thought for a moment, lifted the corner of her mouth, and answered.

"Would it be all right if I said... second-friend candidate?"

"Ah..."

It was a short explanation, and not an easy one. Even so, it was enough. This was one of the people thawing Kayano's frozen heart.

"Then Miss Kayano is on duty until one, so I'll assign her to you until then."

"What? You don't have to do that. I could just be served, and walk around until one..."

"It's all right. That will be easier on Miss Kayano as well."

The customer waved her hands to the very end, insisting she really was fine, but Miyauchi's decision did not move, and at last she gave in and accepted.

"...It's not as if something's wrong, is it?"

She muttered something that made no sense. Even so, pairing the two of them had been the right call. Miyauchi thought so from the heart.

The customer had taken the seat farthest in the corner, and Kayano sat across from her, talking. The customer kept the conversation going. Kayano mostly listened. Now and then, though, a small smile showed. Smiles from Kayano had been rare to begin with, and every one Miyauchi had seen until now carried a pitiful air. The smile she wore in this conversation was nothing like that. It was simply the smile of an ordinary high school girl, the kind you might find anywhere. Surely they were speaking of something gentle and soft—memories that belonged only to the two of them.

"...Really. What a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠relief."

With that, Miyauchi went back to guiding guests, hoping the two of them would keep a warm hour all the way to the end.

"That bet from last time—I won, didn't I?"

"Th-that may be, but the b-best part of Fate's Battle's story is still Part 2, Chapter 6..."

"Saying that after you lost the bet is a little unbecoming, Miss Kayano."

"But my s-soul is telling me so...!"

"Now that I think of it, talking about Fate's Battle reminded me. You limit-broke Heracles all the way to max, didn't you? I got jealous, so I did some extra pulls. The whole five thousand yen got eaten."

"...Sc-scammer..."

"I-I'm tired..."

Right now, I was tired enough that I genuinely wanted to sprint for the bed and sleep without even washing up. I never should have watched that campfire.

A campfire, by rights, is the sort of event where boys and girls dance and get disgustingly couple-y in the heat of the mood, or where close friends stare into the fire and trade pointless little stories. And me? Someone to flirt with? I don't have one. I'd turn them down from my side anyway. Close friends? Of course not. There's Miss Koga, and now Miss Akabane too, but neither of them goes to our school. They're both older than me to begin with.

So I watched the campfire alone, from the Old Science Room. Which means the festival's final event—what does a campfire even mean, for someone like me?

...Nothing. Doesn't it?

Of course, while I was watching, I did think it was pretty. And cool. Being able to enjoy a sight prepared for the people who had worked so hard was a little moving, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I could understand, a little, the meaning Miss Akabane had talked about. But feelings are temporary in the end. Now that I was home, the tiredness in front of me loomed larger than whatever the campfire had moved in me.

Someone might ask whether that isn't too realistic. But turn your back on reality, and nothing is left behind. This exhaustion isn't going anywhere either. And besides, when a super-beautiful girl like me says something like this, it isn't realism. It's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sentiment. Kindly remember that what a girl needs at a time like this is sympathy.

"I'd better sleep soon..."

I finished a quick shower, changed into pajamas, and threw myself onto the bed. Tomorrow was Saturday. I had no plans, obviously, so I ought to rest properly. I did still have to stream, though...

And what I saw, when I woke, was this.

"Uh..."

A whole stack of DMs from an angry (?) Miss Koga.

"R-right now, this is r-really dangerous."

"No, I— I'm t-telling you, it's real..."

Why won't anyone believe me? Sure, it's true that when I say this sort of thing, it usually turns out to be nothing, or something stupid. But if you're Iztomo, you're supposed to believe me. And more than anything, this really is a big deal.

"Miss Koga w-won't t-talk to me..."

Obviously, the moment I saw Miss Koga's DMs this morning, I apologized. Of course I did. She had helped me straight through the whole festival. She must have wanted to come see our school's culture festival after all of that, and I never even noticed. I just sent an iced chocolate and a dessert set from a famous café and called it done. It was perfectly, one hundred percent, my fault.

"Wh-what should I do?"

"Uh, um..."

How was I supposed to explain this? Telling all of it, with nothing held back, was the one thing I truly wanted to avoid.

"I-I just... think of it as my fault..."

"That's mean..."

Sadder still was that I couldn't argue. This time, too, it really was all my fault.

"Th-there's no way that would..."

"...r-right?"

No. Thinking about it—wasn't this actually dangerous?

"Wh-wh-what am I supposed to d-do if it really is like that?"

That was true. But there wasn't any proof it wasn't, either. And more than anything, I know. Someone as kind as Miss Koga, when she cuts a person off, usually vanishes without a word. I learned it on the internet!

"Wh-what do I even..."

Ding!

"Huh?"

"I got a DM from Miss Koga..."

"...I have a bad feeling I'm about to get scolded, so I'm ending the stream..."

"Ah, I won't do that anymore..."

"I'm sorry..."

"...I feel like you scolded me like this last time, too."

"N-no, it's just..."

I'd wanted to say that somehow, being like this with Miss Koga put my heart at ease. It really wasn't something to bring up now. Still—it wasn't a falling-out. Thank goodness...

"Hard things get shared, because we're friends, Miss Akabane."

"You don't even know that? You must not have very many friends."

...That's mean, Miss Koga.