The Fourth Class Is Modern Chinese (Continued)

All the members of the Service Club, myself included, were present, and the clubroom was filled with a harmonious atmosphere.

A fragrant breeze carrying the scent of early summer blew in through the open window, bringing with it the melody of after-school activities.

There shouldn't have been much difference after only a few days, yet the brass band's sound and the calls of the runners seemed a little more orderly. Maybe it was just my imagination.

Even at an unhurried pace, everyday life was constantly changing.

The Service Club's clubroom was no exception.

The distance between seats, the length of skirts, the number of conversations, the speed at which pages were turned. Converted into numbers, they would be insignificant differences, but even so, they were changing.

Of course, things that couldn't be expressed in numbers were gradually changing too.

Komachi's bright expression as she hummed and scrolled through her phone was the clearest example. Maybe I was overthinking it, but to me, her brother, she looked much more refreshed than she had the day before yesterday. Still, that brightness probably couldn't be measured in lux, candlepower, or lumens.

It was just a vague feeling I had.

I tried to remember whether she had been like that since last night, but unfortunately, my reason had died once yesterday, so my memory was a little hazy. Still, I didn't recall seeing her looking down, so something must have happened after school yesterday.

But if we were talking about changes, Yukino was the one who had changed the most in this clubroom.

Yukino, who normally should have already brewed tea, hadn't prepared anything at all today.

That was because she kept sneaking glances at Komachi, then shifting her gaze to Yuihama, nodding one moment and shaking her head the next.

She was looking