The Lie and What Follows

It was about 1 hour and 40 minutes to Nagoya.

Our four-seater was buzzing with activity, thanks to the frivolous guy alone. He was thrilled with every passing landscape, chatting with Kondo-kun and others, and overjoyed at the sight of Mount Fuji. He seemed utterly carefree.

Adachi-san and I were the exact opposite, like at a wake. Adachi-san rested her arm on the armrest, occasionally reprimanding the noisy frivolous guy but otherwise not engaging in conversation. She stubbornly avoided eye contact, focusing on my feet instead.

As for me, I had a bit of conversation with Ninomiya-san, who was kind enough to talk to me, but mostly I just listened to her and the frivolous guy’s chatter.

Yeah, it was extremely awkward.

After nearly two hours of trying to escape this awkwardness, we were just one station away from Kyoto. It seemed like we’d have to endure this situation for a bit longer. I should have known this would happen being near the stylish group. At least I wasn’t feeling sick like before from just being spoken to. Fortunately, it seemed like Adachi-san had no intention of talking to me since our departure.

So, I decided to remain silent too. As a loner, I’m like tasteless, odorless air, as if I’m not even there. No need for Febreze, just a very subtle air freshener… though it might be pointless.

“Ninomiya-san, do I seem prone to motion sickness?”

Ninomiya-san asked, showing concern. It’s not that. I’m just in the most awkward situation I’ve ever been in my life, sitting face-to-face with the person I’m most awkward with. I sought help from Ninomiya-san with my eyes. Can I take a break this weekend, please?

“No, I’m okay. Just a bit sleep-deprived.”

“Really? Don’t push yourself, okay? We can switch seats if you want.”

“Thanks, but I’m okay. This seat is easier for hiding in the toilet if needed.”

“…Don’t you mean ‘easier to go to’?”

Oops. I forgot that my loner analogy might not translate well.

“Haha! Endo-kun, you’re funny.”

The frivolous guy seemed amused, laughing out loud. Has anyone ever told him he sounds like a crow?

“Shut up, noisy.”

Adachi-san nudged him with her elbow, more like an elbow strike, really.

“Ow! Adachi, that’s harsh! It’s Endo-kun’s fault for being funny!”

I felt a bit awkward being called funny; I’m not used to it. Haru often says my face is funny, though.

“Don’t be a nuisance,” Adachi-san admonished. I’m not sure she actually said that, but women’s vague criticisms seem to encompass everything, and men always lose in such arguments. It’s like Gae Bolg.

Intimidated by Adachi-san’s worse-than-usual mood, the frivolous guy quieted down. Wise decision.

Feeling my heart racing from creating this atmosphere, I rummaged through my bag for throat lozenges to offer.

“Want a candy?”

“Endo-kun… I’ll never forget this kindness.”

A life-long debt for a candy? Maybe I should have been kinder to the frivolous guy.

“Oh, I want one too.”

“Of course.” I handed Ninomiya-san a candy. Maybe this will reduce her consulting fees a bit.

“…”

I couldn’t leave out Adachi-san. As a loner, I’m sensitive to anyone being left out alone. I should bear all the world’s sins alone. I feel like I could pull a sword out of a girl’s chest right now. That would be plain harassment, though.

“Do you want one, Adachi-san?”

She hesitated. Maybe she hates pineapple flavor, or she’s allergic?

Just as I was about to search for a different flavor, Adachi-san quietly took a candy from my hand.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.” I’m glad she didn’t dislike it.

“Thank you.” Her almost tearful expression left a strong impression on me.

—

Kyoto Station.

The painfully long journey felt like just a moment in hindsight. Three more days to go. I’m pretty sure I’d fail a stress test.

All the students gathered under the vast ceiling of Kyoto Station for roll call, then boarded buses by class. Our first destination was Kiyomizu Temple, open from 6 am. Apparently, there are no crowds at that time, offering a chance to enjoy the view of Kyoto.

The stylish group plus Ninomiya-san and me climbed the hill, browsing the shops along the way to the temple. As expected of a World Heritage Site, it’s impressive. I feel a collapse in my vocabulary as we

enter the temple grounds. We watched people taking photos on the stage.

“It’s really popular, huh?” Ninomiya-san remarked.

“Yeah, it’s crowded. Hard to tell where they’re taking photos.”

“True, but it’s still a memory, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Memories are like that, vague but evocative.

The stylish group was also taking photos at the front of the stage, making their best efforts.

“Since we’re here, why don’t we take some photos too?” Ninomiya-san suggested.

“Us” includes me, right?

“Sure.”

We took a photo together, standing side by side. My phone pinged with a notification – it was the photo we just took. Ninomiya-san smiling beside me, and me… with my eyes closed.