Chapter 3

I had been dating Hanabi since middle school, but I never told anyone about it.

It was because Hanabi had made me promise not to.

"Because, you see, I'm a beauty that everyone recognizes, right? If it got out that I'm dating a senior, it would be so out of balance that it would cause a huge commotion. I don't want people to doubt my taste. So, please don't tell anyone, okay?"

Why did I have to hear this from Hanabi, who was the one who suggested we start dating?

I think that now, but back then, I couldn't say anything in response. I just nodded miserably.

And as we had agreed to keep our relationship a secret, Hanabi continued to ignore my existence at school.

For example, even if we happened to pass each other in the hallway, she would walk past me with her nose in the air, saying nothing.

When I averted my gaze at such times, I would get incredibly angry later, so I ended up staring at her back, just like the other students who worshipped her.

But now, I was free from all that.

I realized this when I accidentally ran into Hanabi in the corridor during the latter half of lunch break.

Usually, I would be alone at such times, but today I was surrounded by classmates.

They had all just tagged along.

After getting a haircut, I had been the subject of much commotion and had been followed by my classmates all day.

"Still, I didn't think you could talk so normally, Iinose."

When Hara, who was a leader in our class, said this, the others nodded in agreement.

I, Iinose, responded with a feeling I couldn't quite put into words.

"I'm just answering questions, that's all. ...So, the old me seemed like someone who couldn't even do that?"

To be honest, at first, I couldn't help but think, "Is it really okay to change your attitude just because my appearance is different?"

But when everyone honestly told me, "To be honest, it was really hard to talk to you before," and "I didn't know what kind of person you were, and you seemed scary," I could understand to some extent.

It's not like I could blend in in the classroom just by changing my appearance.

Well, it was Hanabi who made it that way...

While thinking about this, I glanced at Hanabi.

Hanabi, who was on the opposite side of the corridor, was standing still, staring at me intently.

That was the face of someone who was extremely angry.

It could be because of the breakup I told her in the hospital, or because I blocked her calls, ignored her messages, or cut my hair.

I don't know if it was all of those reasons, but she must have been seething.

Well, it's not my problem anymore.

Just as I was about to pass by Hanabi, chatting with my classmates—

"Ah..."

For some reason, Hanabi hesitated and took a step toward me, breaking the rule she herself had set to not talk to me at school.

Hara, who was standing next to me, asked, "Do you know her?"

I shifted my gaze from Hara to Hanabi and slowly shook my head.

"No, I don't know her. She's a complete stranger."

Hanabi, who had been holding her breath, twisted her face in frustration.

The skirt she was gripping tightly with both hands was deeply wrinkled.

I didn't do it to get back at Hanabi.

I just stated the truth.

"But, Iinose, doesn't this girl seem like she wants to talk? Is it okay?"

Before I could respond, Kominato Saki, a girl walking on the opposite side, joined the conversation.

Kominato was one of the girls who had been shouting "handsome" when I arrived at school today.

She was rumored to be a reader model, and while she was indeed cute, she had a very strong carnivorous aura, which made me a bit uncomfortable.

"Hey, you, aren't you Kizuki Hanabi from the first year? You're famous for being a beauty. What's up? Did you want to confess to the senior?"

"W-well, I just..."

"Just?"

"I'm going now."

"Ah! Wait, wait! Sorry, Kizuki. Bye-bye."

"..."

This time, I passed by Hanabi.

Even though I couldn't see behind me, I knew she was still staring at me.

I see.

Every time Hanabi and I passed each other in the hallway, she must have had experiences like this.

I wrote this to satisfy the desire for a childhood friend's comeuppance.

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