Evening.
"What brings you over to my place?" Uesugi Hara sat at his desk reading a novel. He lifted his eyes from the page and glanced at Kushida Kikyo, who was sprawled across his bed. His tone was calm.
Kushida sank into the soft bedding, twirling a loose strand of hair that had fallen onto the pillow. Her voice was deliberately languid. "Because your place is the most comfortable, of course, Uesugi."
She rolled onto her side and looked at his profile, outlined by the desk lamp. "Staying cooped up in my room all the time would drive me crazy. Besides—"
Her words trailed off. Then she suddenly pushed herself upright and tapped the bedsheet with her fingertips. "Didn't you say I could come here when I needed to vent?"
"Heh." Uesugi's eyes returned to the page, and he turned it lightly with a fingertip. A hint of cool mockery edged his tone. "Keeping up pointless social ties and acting as everyone's 'dumping ground'—no wonder you're about to lose your mind."
Kushida's hand paused against the bedsheet. The strand of hair she'd been twirling slipped from her fingers.
She didn't argue right away. Instead, she gave a quiet laugh and lay back down. Her voice was soft, as if pressed against the pillow. "But what else can I do? I can't shut everyone out like you do, Uesugi."
She turned her face toward the ceiling, absently picking at the edge of the blanket. "Besides... being someone's 'dumping ground' once in a while at least means someone needs me." Her voice wavered faintly, but she quickly covered it with a lighthearted lilt. "But things are different now. I'm here to 'dump my trash,' so you'd better be ready to catch it."
Uesugi's page-turning stopped for half a second. He didn't look back or answer. His fingertip pressed a faint crease into the edge of the page. Only after a moment did he speak, his voice indifferent. "Dump away. Just don't get my bedsheets dirty."
There was a rustle from beneath the covers, as if Kushida had curled up. "It's not that bad," she said from the pillow, her voice muffled and a little aggrieved. "A few idiots in class kept pestering me, going on about all sorts of nonsense... I didn't want to listen, but I had to keep smiling."
Uesugi finally closed his book and rolled his neck. The desk lamp's light fell across the bed. Kushida had buried her face in the pillow, leaving only a small, flushed earlobe exposed.
He was silent for a moment, then reached for a piece of hard candy at the corner of his desk and tossed it toward the bed.
The wrapper made a soft sound as it hit the blanket. "Have some," he said, picking up his book again. "You're distracting me from reading."
Kushida fumbled beneath the covers for the candy. She turned it between her fingers before slowly peeling off the wrapper. As the sweet scent of orange spread through the air, she mumbled around the candy, "Uesugi really is a good person after all."
Uesugi ignored her, and the soft rustle of turning pages resumed. But she suddenly sat up, slipped her bare feet into her slippers, and walked over to the desk. Leaning down to peer at the book in his hands, she asked, "What are you reading? Let me see."
He shifted his chair to the side, making room for her to stand. "A boring novel."
"It's not boring at all." She pulled over a chair and sat down, propping her elbows on the desk. "Anyway, I don't want to go back yet, so I'll keep you company until I fall asleep."
As she spoke, the cheek holding the candy puffed out slightly, like a little squirrel that had stolen a taste of honey.
"How have things been between you and Airi lately?" Uesugi asked out of the blue, his eyes still on the page. His tone betrayed nothing.
"I never expected that Airi, who's so shy and reserved, would be a gravure idol on the side." Kushida tapped the desktop lightly with her fingertips, sounding pleasantly surprised.
"Is that so? Sounds like you two are getting along well," Uesugi said. His fingertip paused at the edge of the page, but his eyes stayed on the text, his tone unreadable. "She even told you that?"
Kushida twirled the wrapper of the candy she hadn't finished. Then she laughed. "Airi's so cute, after all. At first, she always hid from me. Once we got closer, she finally told me in secret—but she made me promise over and over to keep it quiet."
She tilted her head to look at him. "How did you find out, Uesugi? Don't tell me Airi told you too."
Uesugi didn't answer. He took out his Terminal and swiped across the screen a couple of times before turning it toward her. "Here. Look at the picture Airi took a few days ago."
On the screen was a Polaroid. Airi was smiling with her head tilted, the breeze lifting the ends of her hair. She held up half a taiyaki she hadn't finished. Kushida stood beside her, their shoulders almost touching, her eyes curved into crescents and her bright smile seeming to glow. They were both laughing without a care, the fine lines at the corners of their eyes reflecting genuine delight.
Kushida stared at the photo for a moment, then lightly rested her fingertips against the edge of the screen. Her voice softened. "...We took that last week when we went to buy some snacks."
She spoke quietly, without the look of distaste she'd worn back then. Her fingers brushed against the hem of her shirt as if savoring the memory.
Watching her, Uesugi's lips suddenly curved into a slight smile. "Looks like my 'lesson' had some effect."
He put down his book and walked over to the window. "At least you should understand now that you don't have to pretend to care about someone. When Airi smiles at you, she isn't calculating whether you'll do something for her or thinking about how to get something out of you. Right?"
Kushida said nothing. She set down the Terminal, her gaze falling on the cherry-blossom bookmark at the corner of the desk. The lamplight shone across it from the side, illuminating the petals.
"From now on, you don't have to go out of your way to please anyone," Uesugi said suddenly. "If you want to see Airi, go see her. If you don't, no one's forcing you."
She looked up abruptly. "Then what we talked about before..."
"Don't worry. I'll keep my promise." Uesugi's voice softened. "But now, I'm more interested in seeing how you get along with Airi than in any of that."
Kushida gripped the bookmark, her fingertips brushing its smooth paper. She stood and headed for the door. Passing the wardrobe, she suddenly stopped. "The photo she took... isn't bad." She left those words behind and hurried out.
As the door closed, Uesugi looked at the photo on the screen and tapped the windowsill lightly with his fingertip. A draft stirred the mystery novel at the corner of the desk, stopping at the line, "The hardest masks were often prised open by the smallest acts of kindness."
The soft sound of the door closing had barely faded when the night breeze stirred the half-open curtains, slipping a trace of cool air into the room. The desk lamp cast the shadow of a book across the floor, where it swayed gently in the draft. The jar of hard candies at the desk's edge was still open. The scent of orange mingled with the smell of ink on the pages, slowly spreading through the quiet air.
Uesugi reached up and drew the curtains a little tighter. His fingertips brushed against the fine dust on the fabric. Like the bookmark Kushida had gripped, like the feelings she'd hidden in the words "isn't bad"—there were always little traces that couldn't be concealed.
He went over, picked up his Terminal, and sent Airi a message: "Kushida said the photo you took was cute."
A few seconds later, a reply popped up on the screen: Airi had sent a string of star emojis, followed by, "I'll save her a spot in the next picture I take, too!"