Kono Monogatari O Kimi Ni Sasagu - Volume 1 Chapter 2.10

Kotoha’s voice trembled slightly, but she was looking down, so Yuto couldn’t see her expression.

“Thank you. I was really… happy.”

“Yeah.”

He understood, sort of.

Kotoha had probably been sick often. She had likely faced different pressures to give up her goal of becoming an editor.

Yuto wasn’t sure if he should ask about it. He didn’t know what kind of relationship allowed him to delve into what was likely a very sensitive part of Kotoha’s heart.

And that hesitation made Yuto realize he barely knew anything about Kotoha herself.

What kind of life she had before high school, why she wanted to be an editor, how she developed her skills—he didn’t know. When he first met her, he didn’t care. But now, he wanted to know.

As Yuto kept silent, Kotoha looked up, amused.

“You’re such a wimp, Senpai.”

Realizing she saw through his hesitation, Yuto sighed again.

“You…”

“Just kidding. You were really cool just now.”

Kotoha laughed and then walked ahead, turning back slowly.

“So, Senpai, will you tell me what happened?”

Kotoha looked at Yuto with a mix of anxiety and hope.

Yuto knew he couldn’t avoid it any longer.

“…Let’s change places. It might be a long story.”

***

Rain started to fall, creating countless droplets on the cafe window.

It was a hidden cafe in an alley off the main road by the station. Aside from the elderly master behind the counter, it was empty. Yuto and Kotoha sat at the most secluded table in the jazz-filled cafe, drinking coffee and tea.

Kotoha seemed to be waiting for Yuto to start, silently gazing out the window.

Yuto took a small breath and began.

“I was a novelist. My pen name was Fuyutsuki Haruhiko.”

The words came out lighter than expected.

Kotoha looked straight into Yuto’s eyes. He couldn’t tell if her gaze held surprise, doubt, or something else.

But she nodded clearly.

“Yes.”

“Do you believe me?” Yuto asked, and Kotoha answered, “Yes,” just as firmly.

She genuinely didn’t seem to doubt him.

“Fuyutsuki Haruhiko debuted in middle school, right? You’d be about this age now. Plus, your storytelling skills are on a professional level, so it’s not surprising.”

“Is that so…”

He didn’t expect her to believe so easily, and her faith left him bewildered.

“As far as I know, Fuyutsuki Haruhiko published nearly ten books in two and a half years before stopping three years ago.”

She knew a lot. It was impressive that Kotoha, who had read countless books, remembered a writer who hadn’t published in three years. That fact both pained and pleased Yuto.

“That’s what you were hiding?”

“…Yes.”

“Tell me. What happened three years ago? Why did Fuyutsuki Haruhiko stop writing?”

Yuto sighed. Anxiety and fear seeped from old wounds, clouding his heart, but Kotoha’s earnest gaze eased it somewhat.

Yuto began speaking slowly about what happened three years ago.

***

Thinking back to those days still pained him. Remembering what he could have done differently or avoided filled him with regret, and a dreadful compulsion to escape consumed him.

He had already fled long ago, with nowhere left to run.

To Yuto, those memories were like that.

“I lived in Nagoya with my father and my younger sister. My mother died of illness when I was in kindergarten, so I barely remember her. But I know she loved books. Our house in Nagoya was filled with her books, which both my sister and I read.”

Their father was busy with work, so Yuto often read with his sister. When they ran out of books, Yuto started making up stories for her. Initially, they were poorly cobbled-together tales full of inconsistencies.

But his sister loved those stories, so Yuto kept going.

Over time, he got better at it. By the time his sister started elementary school, Yuto’s storytelling skills were genuine. He received praise from teachers for his essays and was often asked to create impromptu stories by his friends. It made him proud and happy, but his main motivation was always to delight his sister.

“When I talk about it, it sounds like I have a sister complex.”

Feeling embarrassed, Yuto looked at Kotoha, who shook her head.

“It’s admirable. I think I understand a bit more now.”

“Understand what?”

“At first, I thought you were a logical creator. You make detailed plots and know a lot about storytelling. But sometimes you’re very intuitive, almost instinctual. I think I understand why. You grew up trying to make your sister happy, researching and refining your storytelling skills. That’s why you’re both logical and instinctual.”

Kotoha smiled, but it pained Yuto.

“But that story ended up hurting her.”

Yes, the stories meant to make her happy.

Kotoha gasped at Yuto’s words.