Going to school, studying, and making friends—these should have been rights that came as naturally to most students in this world as breathing.
But for Nishimiya, even having those things was something to be immensely grateful for.
When Yukino was handed the notebook, she took the pen and paused for a moment before writing, "You're welcome. It's what a senior should do."
That wasn't what Yukino was really thinking, though.
The truth was, she felt a certain concern for Shoko Nishimiya, a first-year student—one that was difficult to notice.
Yukino wasn't a bad person, and she wouldn't ignore someone who asked for help. But offering support and reaching out a helping hand were two entirely different things.
Yukino wasn't stupid. She could tell the difference.
Perhaps Shoko Nishimiya, so fragile and sensitive, had made Yukino think of her own past.
There had been times when she, too, had been so weak and helpless that no one came to her aid. Times when, alone in a narrow darkness, she had curled up in fear, overcome by despair.
Back then, Yukino had wished more than anyone for a ray of light to shine down on her.
After leaving school, Yukino went to a nearby shopping mall to buy some fruit and a small gift. Classmate Nishimiya kept trying to stop her.
"No, no, and it's too, too expensive..."
Only after paying did Yukino use Sign Language to tell her:
[This is just a very ordinary gift to bring when visiting someone. Everyone brings a gift like this when visiting an elder.]
Yukino's Sign Language was already noticeably more fluent and precise than it had been a couple of days ago. But Nishimiya had no time to be surprised; she glanced around in alarm.
People came and went near the mall entrance. The