Sparse Stars Adorn the Night Sky

"Where are you."

...(Read)

I sent the message and was about to close the chat window when I noticed the green "Read" indicator light up.

"What's it to you where I am?"

"Just asking. You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"Oh."

She replied flatly, and the chat fell silent.

I switched out of the chat page and opened the Timeline. (Note: Timeline is similar to a Moments feed.)

The first post was from Kushida Kikyo, just updated—she'd shared an afternoon tea photo with friends.

I casually gave it a like and was about to scroll down.

Suddenly a message popped up.

"I'm at Hirata's place."

I didn't tap into it. My finger kept scrolling, and next came a video of Tetsuya playing soccer in the Soccer Club yesterday.

Huh.

This guy's got some skills after all.

His opponent looked like an upperclassman, but Tetsuya still managed to create space with his nimble positioning.

After creating that space, he first pulled the ball back to keep it from being stolen, then lifted his head to survey the situation.

But it seemed his team's formation was too defensive—there wasn't anyone suitable to feed him the ball.

He turned, using his back to shield against the approaching defender, and lifted his left foot as if preparing a pass back.

His dominant foot is actually his left?

That piqued my curiosity a little.

In that moment of distraction, I saw him suddenly slam the ball backward with his heel.

Then he looped around the defender from the sideline, shaking him off cleanly.

He dribbled toward the baseline while dodging the oncoming fullback.

No flashy techniques—just pure physicality to break free from the defender's pressure.

"Tetsuya!"

The moment Tetsuya chose to nutmeg his opponent, a short-haired boy in the center of the field sprinted forward like a horse breaking its reins.

Hearing his name called, Tetsuya sent a clever cross.

The football traced a perfect arc under the glow of the setting sun.

Sou Shibata.

Even with two defenders closing in on him, he leaped high without a trace of fear.

The veins on his neck bulged slightly from the effort, looking almost fierce.

He angled his head and headed the ball into the goal.

A great shot to match a great passer.

You could call it a stunning frontline combination.

I was about to watch it again when more messages popped up at the top of my terminal.

"What the hell are you busy with?"

"You disappear right after sending a message???"

"What's your deal."

Karuizawa...

What's she up to?

I tapped into the chat window, and her messages instantly showed as read.

The "typing..." indicator that had been there vanished, replaced by her name.

"Didn't you tell me to mind my own business?"

"..."

"Fine, don't mind me then!"

"Anyway... I don't need his protection anymore. I was just telling him that."

Like a kitten that's done something well, lifting its chin hoping for praise.

For some reason, that was the image that came to mind.

"That's just the truth."

"What the hell!"

"You—"

The other person was typing.

This status persisted for a long time. But there was never any follow-up.

"Although in a way, getting President Horikita to acknowledge you counts as a sign of ability, but..."

"Even if those things might become true at some point in the future, for now they're still just words."

"Don't jump to such confident conclusions about things you haven't even done yet!"

"So, have you been getting bullied lately?"

"..."

"Hmph, of course not. I'm completely the core of the female group in Class 1-D right now."

"Yes, our Karuizawa can absolutely be called the center of the female group in Class D."

"Obviously! I mean, I'm Karuizawa Kei."

"So this amazing Karuizawa Kei wouldn't be trying to act tough and hide things from me when she can't handle something herself, right?"

"I never said there was anything I couldn't handle! It's just that some people arbitrarily declared I'm their property."

"Regardless, if anything happens, remember to come find me."

Rarely, there was a pause on the other end before the reply came:

"Got it."

Having received the affirmative response, I put away my mobile terminal and prepared to get up and leave the classroom.

Tetsuya had gone to club activities as usual, and Ryota was originally going to wait to head back to the dorm with me, but I stopped him.

I casually grabbed my bag and left through the back door of the classroom.

Going down the stairs, I ran into a familiar figure at the corner.

Ichinose stood with both hands behind her back, facing out from the school building.

As if admiring the view, or as if lost in thought.

It seemed my footsteps disturbed her reverie; she turned around.

"Ichinose, why are you here alone?"

Instead of answering my question, she stared straight at me.

With a hint of grievance, and a touch of anger.

"Hajima-kun... why... why did you do this?"

I understood what she wanted to say. I opened my mouth, but didn't know how to begin.

This way, it could eliminate some future problems.

Regarding the collective of Class B.

I tried to express that.

But Ichinose, who had only been a little angry before, had her eyes instantly turn red.

She pressed her lips together and stared at me without a word.

This, this!

She was about to cry!

I wanted to comfort her, but didn't know how.

"I know, you definitely did this for me... for us, but..."

"But things like this will put you at a disadvantage... no matter what, a label that doesn't belong to you being forced on you will have an impact."

I weighed my words and spoke:

"But looking at the big picture, I think it's still very worth it."

"Besides, everyone probably won't pay that much attention to me. Everyone has their own world and life, so there's no need to worry too much about how others see me."

"But what about the people who care about you!"

"What about the people who care about you, who are concerned about you? Have you thought about how they would feel?"

"I..."

Meeting Ichinose's red-rimmed eyes, every excuse seemed so feeble.

"I don't want, I don't want to be carried along by you..."

This was, The second time I hugged her.

My shoulder seemed to be soaked through by warm tears.

A mere teardrop on my shoulder—why does its bitterness gnaw at my taste buds?

For no reason, I tasted something bitter.

"Alright, Ichinose."

I said while gently patting the little head resting on my shoulder.

"Sharing some of your burden—this much is nothing at all."

"Or what, if it were you, Ichinose, would you be unwilling to do this much for me?"

"Of course not!"

The girl who had been buried in my shoulder suddenly lifted her head.

Even through her slightly reddened eyes, the determination in her gaze was unmistakable.

In the hallway, two silhouettes stretched longer and longer in the fading sunlight.