The Best Friend of the Person I Like is Secretly Approaching Me - Chapter 8

Part 2: Haru Hinata’s Love

Chapter 8

I started track and field when I was in the second grade of elementary school.

Back then, a friendly older girl living nearby invited me to the track club she was a part of.

The club was only for elementary school students, so I had to leave at one point, but somehow, I continued with the school’s track team even after entering middle school.

I’ve always been good at running.

Or rather, I think I had exceptional athletic abilities. The results of my hard work clearly showed as I was able to achieve many accomplishments.

All the trophies and plaques I received are my treasures, and they still decorate my room to this day.

I thought I’d continue track and field even in high school.

Then came the final competition in middle school. Feeling the weight of everyone’s expectations, I started running——only to feel a sharp pain in my knee moments later, followed by a loss of strength.

I ended up collapsing on the ground.

I was taken to the hospital in an ambulance, and the doctor told me I had damaged the ligaments in my right knee.

They said I could return to track after healing and undergoing rehabilitation.

But the last middle school competition would never come back.

I was filled with guilt for having let everyone down.

However, the people around me were supportive, saying things like, ‘That’s unfortunate,’ and ‘Do your best in rehab!’

At first, I couldn’t even manage daily life without crutches, making it quite troublesome even just to walk.

I grew increasingly frustrated with the situation, but I couldn’t stand doing nothing, so I wondered if there was something else I could do without running.

“…Huh?”

I realized that there was nothing else.

Before I knew it, track and field had become the sole focus of my life, and I already cast everything else aside.

Now that track and field was taken away from me, I realized I had nothing left.

Ultimately, I decided to observe what everyone else was doing.

Friends with whom I had sweated it out on the track team started growing their hair after quitting the club.

Classmates who used to be tomboys were now becoming more feminine.

That’s it. I’ll do that too.

If I was going to resume track in high school, the only time to grow my hair out would be now.

I wondered if growing my hair would make me look as cute as my classmates?

I didn’t cut my hair during the summer vacation, and by the end of the break, it had grown to the length where it just about touched my shoulders.

I couldn’t tell it by myself, but I wondered if my vibe had changed.

Due to everyone being busy with summer courses and my inability to walk freely, I spent the entire summer break cooped up at home. So it’s been a long time since I’ve seen everyone.

I opened the classroom door, excited to see how everyone would react.

Then a classmate turned around at the sound and said,

“Why did you grow your hair out? It doesn’t suit you, Haru.”

“Ehh, it doesn’t look good on you.”

“Short hair really is more like ‘you,’ Haru!”

They were all close friends, so I knew they didn’t mean any harm and just stated their honest opinions…but that’s why it hurt so much.

——That afternoon, I cut my hair short again.

I thought I had no right to be fashionable. That my entire life would be consumed by track and field or some other sport.

I was led to believe that was the Haru Hinata everyone wanted me to be.

Seeing me like this, my mom approached me with a high school pamphlet.

“Look, Haru. Isn’t the uniform here cute?”

“…Yeah, but it won’t suit me.”

“Nonsense! You’re very cute!”

“…That’s not true. I’m just——”

“Ah, you shouldn’t say something like that. Hey, why don’t you try getting into this school? It’ll be fine. Everyone who goes here wears this uniform. Just be confident. If someone says anything, just say this, ‘I attend this high school, so I wear this uniform. Don’t complain!’ ”

Honestly, I did want to try wearing it.

But when I imagined myself in it, I felt like I could hear voices around me saying, ‘It doesn’t suit you.’

For now, I’ll just focus on studying hard.

My mom told me to, and I didn’t have anything else to do anyway, so I became engrossed in my studies.

Thanks to that effort, I got a ‘B’ on the practice test for that high school I had been eyeing.

Turns out, I’m not just good at track, I can study too.

That realization made me happy at the time.

Exiting the cram school with my test results, I noticed many couples walking around. Today was Christmas Eve, after all.

Apparently, at our age, it’s not just a day for receiving gifts, but also a day for couples.

Seeing a girlfriend happily walking with her boyfriend made my heart stir.

Could someone as unfashionable as me ever find that kind of happiness? I couldn’t imagine such a future.

But maybe I’ve changed a bit too. I’ve become better at studying.

Perhaps I might become fashionable as well.

They say adolescence is a time of constant change, after all.

Before going home, I took a detour to a station-front store selling various goods.

There were a lot of stylish accessories, and they all looked cute.

Still, I felt they wouldn’t suit me. In the end, I didn’t buy anything and just went home.

Time passed, and finally, the day of the high school entrance exam arrived.

I double-checked my exam ticket. My mom had advised using a pencil instead of a mechanical one because they often have issues.

So, I sharpened a pencil for the first time since elementary school.

But I realized I didn’t have a cap for it. I was worried that it would dirty my pencil case, so I dug out an old pencil case to use.

Arriving at the venue, my heart raced at the thought that if I passed, I would be walking these halls in the spring.

I sat down at my designated seat and began placing my writing tools on the desk.

“…Ah.”

I noticed there was no eraser in my pencil case.

I remembered that I hadn’t moved the eraser into the case last night.

To make matters worse, the pencil I had prepared didn’t have an eraser attached on the opposite sides.

What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?

An unexpected problem arose just as I was already tense, and I didn’t know what to do.

Time passed as I was engrossed in my thoughts, and after the proctor briefly announced the test guidelines, the chime signaling the start of the exam rang out.

In a corner of my frantic mind, a small part of me somehow managed to stay calm, whispering, ‘Just start solving the problems. If you don’t make mistakes, you won’t need an eraser.’

That’s true. I wouldn’t need to use an eraser if I didn’t make any mistakes.

With that thought, I began working on the problems—only to mess up the very first one.

It’s only natural that the likelihood of making mistakes increases when I am in a state of panic.

My exam was over, and nothing had paid off.

Just when I thought that I had nothing left, I felt something hit my foot.

I couldn’t afford any large movements like looking down during the exam, so I just imagined what it could be.

While I was contemplating this, the proctor who was patrolling the classroom stopped beside me.

Oh no, did I do something to deserve a scolding?

Bracing myself for what was to come, the proctor crouched down, said, “Excuse me,” and reached under my desk, asking, “Is this yours?” while holding out an eraser.

Of course, I had forgotten my eraser, so it couldn’t be mine. “No,” I answered quietly.

Then the proctor asked the boy sitting next to me, “Is this yours, then?”

It probably belonged to him. Good for him that the eraser was picked up.

As I was thinking this, I heard him say,

“No, it’s not mine, it’s probably hers. I saw something fall from her desk out of the corner of my eye.”

The proctor looked at me quizzically and asked again,

“Is this yours?”

“Um, well, I——”

“Hmm? You don’t have an eraser, do you? Then it must be yours. Here, be careful not to drop it again.”

The proctor placed the eraser on my desk and went on to patrol elsewhere.

What just happened?

This eraser definitely isn’t mine. So, the real owner must be struggling without it.

…But no one claimed the eraser as their own.

Feeling guilty, I used that eraser to erase my writing mistakes.

Thus, I somehow managed to get through the first subject of the exam.

I stood up, intent on finding the real owner of the eraser.

Then I noticed that the boy sitting next to me, who had told the proctor earlier, ‘No, it’s not mine. It’s probably hers.’ had an eraser on his desk that looked exactly like the one I was holding.

Noticing my gaze, the boy looked my way and flashed a grin.

“Glad you had an eraser, huh?”

With that, he pulled out a textbook for the next subject from his bag.

Not wanting to disturb his review, I simply sat back down in my seat.

This was my first encounter with him, Seko Rento.

***
TN: Maybe this is going to be the cover