Why cry?
Saori won't cry. Is it only normal if she cries?
—
...
In the morning, the clock in the classroom pointed to half past nine.
A girl in a sailor uniform, carrying a red backpack, stood at the doorway, raising her reddened palm to knock.
The teacher's voice, lecturing inside the classroom, abruptly stopped. After a few seconds, the door in front of the girl was suddenly pulled open with a bang.
"Hasegawa Saori! What's your excuse for being late today?"
"Saori's..."
Saori's bike broke down...
Before she could finish her sentence, the teacher—seeing her completely nonchalant expression—instantly flared up. He slapped the test paper in his hand onto her shoulder and reprimanded her.
"Take your test paper. Go outside. Finish your self-reflection, and then come back in!"
Bang!
The door closed again, the gust of wind stirring the long hair by the girl's ear.
The girl blinked her clear eyes, paused for two seconds, then turned and walked to the windowsill. She habitually took out paper and pen, placed the 13-point test paper at the bottom, and began to write her self-reflection.
What should the self-reflection contain?
Should she write about carrying her bicycle and running all the way here?
Hasegawa Saori still didn't understand. But it seemed someone else understood better than her.
—
"Are you an idiot?"
In the restroom, Hasegawa Saori looked at the few people surrounding her. She couldn't help but tilt her head, a confused expression in her clear eyes.
"Saori is not an idiot."
"You are, aren't you? You only scored thirteen points. What else could you be if not an idiot?"
"You are an idiot."
The girl in the middle took out her phone to record, urging her. "Quick, say you're an idiot."
"Saori is not—"
"I told you to say it! Can't you understand human speech? You stupid pig!"
Seemingly impatient, she glared fiercely at Saori and raised her hand to slap her face.
But the moment her hand went up—
A sudden pain shot through her back, and she uncontrollably stumbled against the wall. She clutched her waist, turning her head with a pained expression, just about to curse—
Splat!
An egg splattered across her face.
"I think you look more like an idiot now."
Facing their shocked gazes—before they could even react—Shiratori Seiya, his face grim, picked up the water hose, placed it at his waist, and turned on the tap.
"I'm going to give you all a good brainwash!"
Boom!
A stream of water, as thick as a fist, suddenly gushed out, spraying directly toward their faces.
The cold water hit their faces and bodies. The girls snapped back to reality instantly, flapping and screaming like startled hens as they rushed out of the restroom.
Creak.
Turning the water valve back off, Shiratori Seiya threw the hose aside and walked up to the girl. Seeing her face also wet, he took out a tissue and handed it to her.
"Wipe it off."
Hasegawa Saori looked up, staring blankly at him. She showed no reaction.
Was she frightened?
Shiratori Seiya frowned. He wiped the water from her face for her, then took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. He spoke in the gentlest tone he could muster.
"If you're sad... it's better to cry it out."
Hasegawa Saori glanced at the jacket on her shoulder, tilted her head, and asked, puzzled:
"Why... should I cry?"
Shiratori Seiya froze. His gaze met the girl's pure, clear eyes.
"Aren't you sad?"
"Sad? What is that?" She blinked. "Is it only normal if Saori cries?"
Hearing this, Shiratori Seiya opened his mouth. He carefully observed the expression on the girl's face—confirming that she wasn't being sarcastic or pretending to be strong.
He rubbed his temples and sighed with a complicated expression.
"So she's an idiot..."
"An idiot? Saori is not an idiot either."
Hasegawa Saori didn't know what sadness was. But she clearly knew her three favorite things:
"Eating," "Sleeping," and "Kendo."
If she could eat the food Seiya cooked, practice kendo with Seiya, and finally marry Seiya and be together forever... then nothing could be better.
Therefore, she wouldn't care about anything else. Nor would she cry because of it.
But if it was Seiya... just meeting him would make her so happy she'd cry.
—
"Saori is back."
Shiratori Seiya was stunned, looking at the tears on Saori's face.
Why did every girl he met cry?
Shiratori Seiya felt a headache coming on. At the same time, he suddenly understood why Fujiyama Takeo had begged him to come over.
No one knew better than him how strong Saori was in kendo. If she wanted to, she could probably challenge the entire kendo club, and no one could stop her.
Doing all of this—just to meet him.
Should he say it was typical of her character? Acting without considering the consequences...
But then, more questions surfaced in his mind.
Why was she here? How did she know he was at H University? What exactly did she want to do today?
Shiratori Seiya frowned, his expression complicated as he looked at the girl in front of him. He reached out to wipe the tears from her face, asking in a hushed voice:
"Saori, why are you here?"
Hasegawa Saori froze for a moment, looking at Shiratori Seiya's hand on her face. Then she grabbed it, blinking her clear eyes.
"Because I wanted to see Seiya. So I came."
"..."
Shiratori Seiya opened his mouth, looking at his hand now firmly grasped in hers. He tried to pull it free.
He tugged twice. Nothing. It was as if his wrist was fixed in a hydraulic press. His wrist even started to ache.
He gave up and asked, helplessly:
"I mean... why are you in Tokyo? Aren't you attending university in Kyoto?"
Hasegawa Saori's eyes darted around, seemingly thinking hard. After a moment, her eyes lit up.
"Because Seiya is in Tokyo... so I am in Tokyo."
"..."
This idiot.
Shiratori Seiya was almost amused by her. Just as he was about to ask what exactly she was planning to do, Fujiyama Takeo emerged from the changing room behind him and reached out to push his shoulder.
"Seiya, what are you doing standing at the door—"
The moment he asked, Fujiyama Takeo saw Hasegawa Saori holding Shiratori Seiya's hand. His face froze.
Then he reacted. A "so that's how it is" expression appeared on his face, and he coughed.
"Uh... why don't you two finish your match first before...? Everyone is waiting..."
"..."
Shiratori Seiya turned his head to glance at him, then tried again to pull his hand free from Hasegawa Saori's grip.
No use.
"Saori, let go."
"If I let go... won't Seiya run away?"
"Where would I run to right now?"
Hasegawa Saori said "Oh," but still didn't let go.
Shiratori Seiya sighed helplessly and looked at Fujiyama Takeo.
"I can't fight. I forfeit."
What a joke?
Him, fighting Hasegawa Saori?
Not to mention whether he could win—even if he gave it his absolute all, he wouldn't be able to make her break a sweat.
In his first year of high school, he couldn't last more than a few moves against her. Now he was in his first year of university. Who knew how much she had grown since then?
Such a destined-to-lose match was utterly meaningless.
Hearing him say this, Fujiyama Takeo's face showed surprise.
"Ah? Forfeit? Why? Didn't you two agree?"
—
Fujiyama Takeo glanced at Shiratori Seiya, then spread his hands helplessly.
"I only said I'd help you call Shiratori-kun over. I didn't say he had to compete. I have no right to make decisions for him. Besides... even if he competed, wouldn't it be the same whether he forfeited, surrendered, or admitted defeat?"
"..."
Yokoyama Miyu listened to his words, opened her mouth, and for a moment didn't know what to say. She turned to look at the girl beside her.
"Saori, you—"
"Seiya."
Hasegawa Saori suddenly released Shiratori Seiya's right hand. She took a step forward, her pure eyes fixed on his, and spoke softly.
"Are you going to reject me... again?"
Her voice carried a weight that made the air grow heavy.
"Saori spent her birthdays two years ago, last year, and this year... all alone."
"My wishes have never come true."
She paused, her gaze unwavering.
"Consider this my request of a lifetime... okay, Seiya?"