Preparation for Regret Ends in Failure

†

“Ryoma and Naomichi are pretty close.”

Kisaragi tilted her head as if to say, “What are you talking about?”

Well, I thought so too, but Saiga claims he hates me.

“There are different kinds of friendships, right? I’m not one to judge… but I can’t imagine someone like Ryoma having ‘normal’ friends.”

Normal friends, huh. Indeed, throughout my life, I’ve never really had or maintained such friendships. If Kisaragi says I’m not suited for it, then she’s probably right.

“By the way, Kisaragi.”

“What?”

As she untied her hair from its sporty ponytail, Kisaragi looked at me.

“What do you think about Saiga?”

“What do I think?”

She cast her gaze towards the gymnasium gallery. Saiga was there, happily leading a mixed group of friends, unaware of us.

Seeing them having fun in such a “normal” way with friends made me a bit envious… but I guess I’m not suited for that.

“Back in our first year, I didn’t really care about him.”

“But?”

“But seeing him challenge you, it’s kinda cute.”

“I see.”

Relieved that she didn’t seem to dislike him.

Saiga wouldn’t want to be hated by Kisaragi either. Is this another case of my meddling?

“What do you mean, ‘I see?’ You should cherish Naomichi; he’s one of the few who talks to you honestly.”

“So that’s how it is.”

Was she worried about me? If I said that, Kisaragi would get mad again.

“I’d rather see you and Kinoshita get along. You were sitting together today, after all. Any chance of that?”

“No.”

“That’s a sharp no.”

I don’t think Kisaragi would go out of her way to trouble Kinoshita, but it would be nice if acquaintances didn’t hate each other.

“Hey, Ryoma.”

Kisaragi called out as if she had an idea.

“Yes?”

Glancing over, I saw her looking down at the court from the gallery.

“What’s up?”

“Do you think she and I are similar?”

She must be talking about Kinoshita. I don’t know why she’s asking, but.

“There are some similarities, yes.”

“…I see. That makes sense.”

Propping her chin on the railing, she played with her hair, seemingly hesitant to continue.

“If it’s something you can talk about, I’m here to listen.”

When I said that, Kisaragi glanced at me and laughed mockingly.

“Is it because I look like I’m hesitating?”

“Yes.”

“…You say you don’t want to meddle anymore, but you’re always concerned about others.”

“…Kisaragi?”

Kisaragi’s gaze seemed to look past me, narrowing slightly.

Then she smirked and continued.

“Aren’t you always regretting? Complaining to me, involving yourself with Kinoshita, has anything changed?”

“I’d like to say I’ve changed, but probably not.”

I’ve worked hard to turn many impossibilities into possibilities.

So, reverting to my old ways for flimsy reasons like “I can’t just watch” is just an excuse.

Like foolishly opening my smartphone when something bothers me before sleeping.

Like failing to refuse invitations to play when I aim to improve my grades.

“I know I’m foolish. This time, I knowingly messed up, and I want to do better next time.”

“I see. So, reaching out to Kinoshita was a clear ‘mistake.'”

At that moment, a flashback of the recent match crossed my mind.

When I made eye contact with Kinoshita next to Kisaragi, she quickly looked away.

“Yes. It hurts to be rejected, even if it’s my fault.”

“Geez, I’ve told you many times, everyone you’ve helped is happy now, without even thanking you. It’s annoying.”

“Thinking that is my only solace.”

“It’s not just your imagination… but fine. You haven’t changed, and your efforts haven’t paid off. What’s the difference between you and your father?”

“Kisaragi…”

She knew how much I resented my father.

Or rather, there was probably nothing I hadn’t told her.

Knowing how much it would hurt to be compared to my father, she still said it, showing how much she disapproved of me.

“I won’t neglect my own well-being, relying solely on others and ending up ruined. Unlike my father, I’m not spending my own money or time…”

“That’s because you don’t have the money. I’ll bet if you had as much as me, you’d spend it all on others.”

“That’s not…”

“You used everything you had to stay with me… you stayed. When you grow up and can do more, you won’t change.”

Sneering, Kisaragi continued.

“Someone like you should be taken care of.”

“Kisaragi.”

How harsh. But I couldn’t argue.

I could only reject the idea of being supported by Kisaragi.

“So, what will you do, Ryoma?”

She pointed to my jacket pocket.

“Will you delete Kinoshita’s account? Like always?”

“…”

My friend list isn’t long, but it’s not because I haven’t exchanged many contacts. It’s because those who’ve cut ties with me have removed their IDs.

Indeed, this time too, as I pulled out my smartphone,

──a voice echoed.

“What do you mean by deleting my account?”

I turned around, and there she was.

“Kinoshita…”

Now, Kisaragi turned her back on me.

“Well, I’ll be going then.”

This casual reaction connected with the feeling she was looking past me earlier, making me realize.

“…How much did you hear?”

I asked quietly, but before Kinoshita could respond, Kisaragi spoke.

“You told her your dreams. Nothing to hide now.”

“You…”

Kisaragi laughed and turned to Kinoshita.

“──I might’ve said too much yesterday, so we’re even.”

“I’ll thank you, just in case.”

I could’ve stopped her, but Kinoshita came to me herself.

I couldn’t leave her and faced her.

“…Sorry. I heard most of it.”

“Kisaragi intended for you to hear it. I’m not mad.”

Just didn’t want it overheard.

“I see…”

The gym’s noise felt oddly loud.

“…Godai-san.”

“Hmm?”

Her voice was gentle.

Kinoshita’s eyes looked straight at me.

“If I had ended today without thanking you, would we never have spoken again?”

“I don’t think so.”

Even if she thought herself ungrateful, it wasn’t her fault.

Human emotions aren’t inherently good or bad.