I couldn't contact Hotaru until summer vacation ended.

She might hate me. The thought scared me so much, I cried again.

The day before summer break ended, Yotsuji came over to my house and helped me with my homework. She even used nail polish remover to take off the polish she'd painted for me during our trip.

When Yotsuji asked, "Did you hang out with Hotaru over summer break?", I answered that we went to the festival once, but hadn't hung out since. Yotsuji didn't ask anything else, just saying, "Hmm."

No contact came from Hotaru, either. Somewhere in my heart, I had been hoping Hotaru would call or email me. I realized, far too late, that Hotaru had never once been the one to initiate contact. Maybe Hotaru was only ever just responding to me.

My headaches only got worse. If I could go back to the night of the summer festival and erase my words, I think I would have done anything. Holed up in my room, burying myself under the covers, I couldn't even remember Hotaru's scent anymore.

Before Yotsuji went home, as she was putting on her black high-top sneakers in the entryway, I let the words slip out:

"Hotaru might hate me."

Tapping the toes of her shoes lightly against the entryway tiles, Yotsuji laughed, "That's the one thing it definitely isn't," and opened the door to leave. Even after Yotsuji was gone, I stood in the entryway for a long time. Yotsuji's somewhat lonely-looking smile stuck to the back of my eyes and wouldn't let go.

 

Summer vacation always ends eventually. Someone like me can't stop it. When the night ends, morning comes, and the opening ceremony for the second term arrived.

Inside the gymnasium, it was swelteringly hot. The principal's boring speech dragged on and on, and sitting with my arms wrapped around my knees, I blankly stared at a dirty, orange-like basketball caught in the ceiling netting.

Hotaru definitely isn't in this gym. Hotaru is probably reading a book all alone in the cool Infirmary. It must have finally been too hot for her; the nurse, standing at the end of the line of teachers, wasn't wearing the stole around her neck.

A sluggish atmosphere flowed through the classroom after the opening ceremony. The dissatisfied vibe of "I wanted to play more" could be read on every kid's expression.

"Are you going to the Infirmary today?"

Yotsuji, having finished packing up, asked, making my heart skip a beat.

"No, probably not."

I brushed the eraser shavings off my desk with my hand.

"I'm going, though."

"Eh, why are you going, Yotsuji?"

Yotsuji floated a smirk and puffed her chest out with exaggerated pride.

"Today, on the way back from the ceremony, the nurse called out to me and told me to show her a new magic trick. Actually, we made a promise like that before summer vacation started, and I've been practicing over the break. It'll be a world premiere, you know? Shall I invite you to my magic show too, Ibuki?"

"No thank you."

When did they make a promise like that? It was a little surprising that Yotsuji accepted, but if that teacher asked, probably no one could refuse.

As I put on my backpack to go home, Yotsuji grabbed my arm in a firm grip.

"Wait a minute! Please. Come with me. I'm anxious about facing that teacher all by myself."

When Yotsuji looked at me with pleading eyes, my resolve wavered slightly.

"But, I don't want to go."

"Please! I'll treat you to shirataki noodles!"

"I don't want that."

"You're my only hope, Ibuki."

"...Fine. I'll go."

Relentlessly begged by Yotsuji, I finally caved. If Hotaru came to hate me, it's my fault. I'm the one to blame. I decided this would be my last time going to the Infirmary.

"Thanks, Ibuki. I'll never forget this debt of gratitude for the rest of my life."

Yotsuji laughed frivolously and readjusted her backpack.

"You'll definitely forget by tomorrow."

I let out a small sigh.

When we entered the Infirmary, Hotaru, who seemed to have been talking with the nurse, stood up quickly.

"Ibuki-chan."

Hotaru was looking straight at me, and I wanted to avert my eyes. It had been since summer vacation that I was gazed at by those eyes. It had been a very long time. While wishing summer vacation would never end, I had also been wishing it would end quickly. I was just endlessly depressed, and endlessly in pain.

Hotaru approached me, as I kept my head down unable to say anything, and floated a soft, warm smile.

"It's been a while, Ibuki-chan. Were you okay the other day?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Hotaru gently placed a hand on my cheek, as if touching a fragile vase. Caught off guard by the sudden action, I froze with my eyes wide open. There was a sweet, soapy scent. The scent of Hotaru I was supposed to have forgotten.

"You looked so pale back then, Ibuki-chan. But your color looks good today. I thought you might think I was worrying too much if I contacted you a lot, so I held back. I love you too, Ibuki-chan! Because you're the first person I've ever gotten this close to."

Saying that, Hotaru floated a smile as bright as the sun.

My mind, which until then had been scrambled like TV static, suddenly became crystal clear.

Hotaru hadn't realized that I had confessed my feelings in the heat of the moment.

Dense Hotaru. Dense, cute Hotaru. I love her.

"Thanks, Hotaru."

Feeling relieved, the strength almost drained from my body. I stroked Hotaru's round head. Hotaru narrowed her eyes happily. Breathing in a chest full of Hotaru's sweet scent, I sank down onto the two-seater sofa. Hotaru sat down next to me.

My hot cheeks and forehead slowly cooled down. My body, having suddenly lost its worry and anxiety, had the unreliable lightness of a balloon, feeling as if it might float away somewhere if I let my guard down.

"Yotsuji, won't you show me your magic trick now? I've been looking forward to it since this morning."

When the nurse said this, Yotsuji floated a graceful smile and replied, "Roger that." There was an intimacy in their exchange, and I wondered when they had gotten so close.

We had Yotsuji show us her new magic trick. She layered cards one by one, creating a total of four piles. At the nurse's word to "stop," she would start the next pile. At the end, when she flipped over the top card of all four piles, they were all Aces. Just as she said she'd been practicing over summer vacation, Yotsuji's sleight of hand was brilliant, just like a magician's. Her performance was great, too, not letting the audience figure out the trick behind it.

Hotaru clapped her hands with a pitter-patter sound like endless rain. The nurse, who usually watched almost everything with a bored look, had her eyes practically glowing as she watched Yotsuji's magic. Wanting to see it again, the nurse asked Yotsuji for an encore.

In the end, we watched the same magic trick four times. The nurse looked very satisfied.




A little while after the second semester started, in the Infirmary after school, Hotaru said:

"I think I want to try attending class."

Drinking cold iced tea with ice in it, I looked at Hotaru in surprise. Holding her strawberry-patterned glass with both hands, Hotaru wore a calm smile.

"Really?"

"Really."

Hotaru nodded. I groaned, "Hmm." It was admirable that Hotaru could want to go to the classroom, and it was amazing she could muster the courage to make that decision. But there are a lot of people in the classroom. Boys and girls her own age, which Hotaru is bad with. My class is always noisy, and I was worried Hotaru might get overwhelmed.

"Why all of a sudden?"

"You see, I thought I'd like to try going to the classroom where you and Yotsuji-chan are, even if just for a little bit."

Hotaru was staring at her iced tea, clear as citrine. Her eyes were filled with anticipation and hope.

"Why not? You should try going once. It might be surprisingly fun, you know."

The nurse said this with a face that looked like she wasn't worried about a single thing. I felt something in her akin to a lion pushing its cub off a cliff, but Hotaru seemed happy to have the nurse's agreement.

"I'll try attending class tomorrow," Hotaru said to the nurse in a cheerful voice.

"Do your best."

The nurse pulled up the corner of her mouth. A song by an unknown band was playing on the radio.

 

The next day, true to her declaration, Hotaru appeared in the classroom. It was ten minutes before morning homeroom.

Entering the classroom, Hotaru looked around restlessly with a troubled face like a lost child. Realizing she didn't know where her seat was, I guided Hotaru to the seat behind mine.

Placing her school bag on the desk, Hotaru took a deep breath of the classroom air. It was cloudy today, and outside the window was dim as if covered by a gray filter. The air in the classroom felt somewhat damp, too.

"My seat is behind yours, Ibuki-chan."

Breaking into a smile, Hotaru sat down. For some reason, Hotaru's figure didn't blend in with the classroom; she had the innocence and precariousness of an elementary schooler who had just started school. It made me feel restless.

The people in the class also seemed curious about Hotaru, who had suddenly started attending school in the second semester. There were many who cast brief glances our way, and some girls whispering among themselves. Unaware of this, the good-humored Hotaru looked down from the fully opened window at the country town that couldn't quite become a city.

"Such a nice view."

Hotaru murmured. I hoped the day would just end without incident like this. Our homeroom teacher, Suga-sensei, entered the room, and morning homeroom began.

First period, second period, third period—the class was as noisy as ever, and the teachers somehow managed to finish their lessons while scolding us.

I disliked the yelling of our second-period math teacher. It sounded like thunder and echoed in my head. Today, too, the teacher roared at two boys who wouldn't stop chatting, and Hotaru seemed startled by the voice as well. When break time came, Hotaru pressed her chest and let out a long breath, saying, "The teacher's voice was so loud, it surprised me. My heart almost jumped out of my chest," and I nodded, agreeing, "For sure."

After the third period ended, Hotaru and I pushed our desks together, called Yotsuji over, and ate lunch.

Hotaru's bento box was small and contained octopus-shaped wieners and frozen fried chicken. It looked like a delicious bento.

As I mumbled my way through a melon pan, Hotaru gave me a wiener.

"Is this all you're eating?" Yotsuji asked, and Hotaru replied, "I'm holding back because I'm going to eat a lot of snacks later."

"If you don't eat properly, it's the tickle punishment!"

When Yotsuji grabbed Hotaru's sides, Hotaru let out a laugh like a ringing bell and twisted her body. Hotaru looked like she was having fun messing around with Yotsuji, and I felt relieved.

Fourth period was PE, basketball. Hotaru sat in the corner of the gym observing, and as a substitute, I sneakily slipped away from my team and sat next to Hotaru.

"It was just like the nurse said. Coming here, it's surprisingly fun."

Hugging her knees, Hotaru watched our classmates frantically chasing the basketball. The heavy thud-thud sound of the bouncing ball echoed.

"I'm glad, then."

Hotaru didn't seem to be pushing herself. It was a strange feeling that Hotaru, who was always supposed to be in the Infirmary, was coming to the classroom and gym and taking classes with me. I had a little anxiety, but I was still really happy. I joined Hotaru in watching our classmates' game.

Yotsuji tried to make a shot from an absurd distance and threw the ball. The ball drew a beautiful arc and dropped smoothly into the net. Yotsuji definitely has something. Yotsuji waved broadly toward us.

"Yotsuji-chan, that's amazing!"

Impressed by Yotsuji's shot, Hotaru clapped her hands. Toward Hotaru, Yotsuji performed an elegant bow.

"If you praise her too much, it'll go to her head."

Yotsuji is a pain when things go to her head. Even though she acts like it's already gone to her head all the time.

"But it really was amazing," Hotaru said in an excited voice. I gazed at Yotsuji moving freely around the court. Supple movements and eyes like she was surely hunting down her prey. Yotsuji was like a dignified stray cat. When she's messing around with me, she's like a dumb puppy, but at times like that, she's cool.

Yotsuji charged toward the opponent's goal with brilliant dribbling. Effortlessly dodging the opposing team members trying to stop her, Yotsuji threw the ball at the goal. The ball slipped smoothly through the net. Yotsuji wiped the sweat that had beaded on her forehead. The buzzer signaling the end of the game rang out.

After PE ended and we changed our clothes, we headed to our fifth-period science class. The science classroom was in the special classroom building, different from the student building we were in.

"It's hot."

Yotsuji fanned her face using a textbook as a fan. Her middle-parted bangs were still wet.

"You were so cool, Yotsuji-chan."

Hotaru turned a look of respect toward Yotsuji. Yotsuji raised one hand, looking pleased.

"Right? I can give you my autograph if you want."

"Hmm, an autograph is a bit..."

Hotaru tilted her head reservedly.

"Eh! Isn't this where you're normally supposed to say you want it?"

Yotsuji grabbed Hotaru's shoulders and shook her. The exchange was funny, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"I guess so. I might actually want it."

Hotaru said with a smile as white and bright as a lightbulb.

"It'll be super valuable in a few years, so make sure you keep it safe."

Yotsuji wrote her name in messy Roman letters on the last page of Hotaru's notebook. I remembered practicing autographs with Yotsuji back in middle school. The possibility of Yotsuji becoming a big shot isn't zero, but an opportunity for someone like me to give an autograph will definitely never come. I'm always just doing silly things with Yotsuji.

Hotaru stared at the letters written in black marker as if moved.

"Mukoto-chan."

"It sounds a bit boyish, so I don't really like it, though."

"It's a beautiful name. I'll treasure the autograph."

When Hotaru floated a transparent smile, Yotsuji quietly narrowed her eyes. It certainly is a beautiful name. When I call Yotsuji "Mukoto," she makes an incredibly embarrassed face, so I rarely call her by her given name.

The connecting corridor was crowded with students heading to their next classes.

"It's dangerous if you don't look ahead," I called out to Hotaru.

Nodding and closing her notebook, Hotaru raised her gaze, then suddenly stopped walking, as if paralyzed under an intense glare.

"Hotaru?"

The smile vanished from Hotaru's expression, and her eyes wavered in fear. Pressing her lips tightly together, Hotaru looked down and just ran off back the way we came.

"Eh, what, so suddenly?"

Yotsuji looked back in the direction Hotaru had run. Hotaru turned a corner, and her back quickly disappeared from sight. I didn't know what had happened. As we stopped walking, the shoulder of a male student from another class, walking in a group of four, bumped into my shoulder.

"Excuse me."

When I lightly bowed my head and apologized, I was ignored. That boy had dyed his long hair brown. Leaving his dress shirt untucked sloppily, he looked exactly like an obvious delinquent.

"I'll go look for Hotaru."

Because Yotsuji quickly dashed off, I followed after her. We checked the Infirmary and the classroom, but Hotaru was nowhere to be found. When we went to check the shoe lockers, we realized Hotaru had changed her shoes and left the school, so I called Hotaru's phone. Even after calling several times, the call wouldn't connect, so Yotsuji and I had no choice but to head to science class.

After school ended, I sent a text asking, "Are you okay?", and received a reply saying, "I'm sorry." Hotaru didn't send any further messages. Thinking I shouldn't pry too persistently, I didn't ask anything else.

The next day, when I went to the Infirmary, Hotaru was nowhere to be seen. Apparently, she was absent due to feeling unwell. It was rare for Hotaru to take a day off school.

"Ever since you started coming here every day, Hotaru stopped taking days off, but she was always a girl prone to getting sick to begin with."

The nurse brewed me some iced tea. I drank a glass of iced tea and left the Infirmary.

On my way home from school, I visited Hotaru's house directly. For Hotaru, who was feeling unwell, I bought a sports drink and grape jelly at a convenience store. Whenever I get sick, my mom always buys these two things for me.

When I rang the doorbell, Hotaru's mother's voice came through the intercom.

"Oh, it's you, Ibuki-chan."

Hotaru's mother's voice was low, carrying a weight that was pleasant to the ear.

"I came to check on Hotaru. Is Hotaru okay?"

"It seems she still isn't very well. Wait a moment, I'll go tell her you're here."

"Thank you very much."

The sound cut off with a click. After waiting for a while, Hotaru's mother opened the front door. Hotaru's mother was tall, a striking beauty like an actress on TV or a model gracing a magazine cover. Hotaru's mother had deeply sculpted eyes that harbored a strong light.

"Hotaru said she wants to see you. Please, come in."

"Excuse the intrusion."

When I finished arranging the shoes I took off in the entryway, Hotaru's mother guided me to Hotaru's room. Hotaru's room was on the first floor. Hotaru's name was carved into a wooden plate hung on the door.

Hotaru's mother knocked on the door, knock, knock.

"Ibuki-chan is here. I'm opening the door."

Her mother opened the door to Hotaru's room. "Go ahead," I was urged inside by fingertips painted with red nail polish. I bowed my head to Hotaru's mother and entered Hotaru's room.

Hotaru's room was filled with a sweet scent like peaches. The tightly closed curtains featured a red and pink small floral pattern, and a white canopy draped softly over the bed. Small bottles of eau de cologne lined an antique-style dresser, and several dolls dressed in luxurious clothes were displayed on top of a white and pink chest of drawers.

Curled up inside the canopy bed, Hotaru looked like a princess waiting for a prince's rescue. After Hotaru's mother left the room, I sat down on the bed where Hotaru was lying.

"Are you okay, Hotaru?"

Hotaru seemed exhausted. Sitting up, Hotaru's eyes were vacant, and her expression showed signs of fatigue.

"Ibuki-chan. Thank you for coming."

Hotaru forced a smile, as if mustering what little strength she had left.

Even weakened, Hotaru still behaved in a way to not make me worry. The reason she isn't saying anything about why she suddenly went home yesterday is surely so she doesn't trouble me.

Cowardly me doesn't have the courage to touch Hotaru's heart directly. It's always me who averts my eyes from Hotaru.

I thought I was protecting Hotaru. I thought I had to protect the kind and delicate Hotaru. I was supposed to be cherishing her so she wouldn't get hurt.

But surely, the one being protected was me. Hotaru had continuously protected the weak and cowardly me all this time.

Hotaru's tired, hurt, and clouded eyes. I wanted to bring back that glass-marble-like shine. I moved closer to Hotaru and gently cradled her cheeks with both hands. White cheeks, cold and sticking moistly to my skin.

I might not be able to become a prince, but even so, I want to help Hotaru.

Hotaru blinked. I stared firmly into Hotaru's eyes. In the dim room, I found a tiny sparkle in Hotaru's pupils.

"What happened yesterday?"

Hotaru suddenly wore an expression like she was about to cry. Pressing her cherry-blossom pink lips together as if in pain, she shook her head back and forth.

"Hotaru. It's okay."

After a long silence, Hotaru let out a trembling breath, "You see..." I took my hands off Hotaru and listened to her voice, intending to take and embrace every single piece of it in my hands.

"There was a boy who went to the same middle school as me."

"The boy who confessed to you?"

Hotaru nodded, looking as if she were withering.

"I didn't know we went to the same school. I saw him walking in the corridor, and then it made me remember what happened in middle school. I got scared, and I ran away again."

Transparent tears spilled from Hotaru's eyes. I scooped up the tears flowing from Hotaru's eyes with my finger. The tear drops melted hotly between my finger and Hotaru's cheek.

"I will protect you, Hotaru."

Hotaru caught her breath and looked at me.

"I want to cherish you, Hotaru. When I'm with you, it's easier to breathe. My head stops hurting. Things that medicine couldn't do anything about, you solved for me, Hotaru. I thought it was like magic. I'm weak, cowardly, and clumsy. But I will absolutely protect you, Hotaru."

"Ibuki-chan. Thank you."

Hotaru smiled with a tearful face. I held up my pinky finger and brought it closer to Hotaru.

"Pinky promise."

When I said that, Hotaru nodded strongly and linked her pinky with mine. When I smiled, Hotaru's face turned bright red, and she pulled the covers over her head.

"What's wrong?" I asked, and Hotaru answered in a muffled voice, "It's nothing." She seemed quite flustered. I wonder what was really wrong. Hotaru didn't come out from under the covers for a while.



The next day, Hotaru seemed to be feeling better and was able to come to school. That said, she wasn't coming to the classroom, but rather commuting to the Infirmary.

Even so, I was relieved that Hotaru was able to come to school. When I went to the Infirmary after school, Hotaru was on the bed, working on the assignment handouts given by the school.

"You're so diligent, Hotaru."

All the blank spaces on her answer sheets were completely filled in. The traces of Hotaru's effort were solidly there. Hotaru's handwriting was methodical and rounded. Perhaps because I had suddenly spoken to her while she was concentrating on the handouts, Hotaru reacted with a jolt so big it surprised me.

"I'm not diligent."

Hotaru floated an awkward smile. Since yesterday, Hotaru had been acting a little strange. She would suddenly turn red, or look dizzy and flustered. Not wanting to get in her way, I sat on the sofa, put in my earphones, and played a game.

A little past 5 PM, thinking it was about time to head back, I started getting ready to leave. Saying, "I'll go home with you," Hotaru also began putting away her study materials.

After leaving the Infirmary, as I was fixing the tilt of the corkboard hanging on the door, Hotaru spoke to me in a small voice, "Um, you see." Wanting to catch her voice, I brought my ear close to Hotaru's mouth. Hotaru stood on her tiptoes.

Hotaru's lips touched my cheek.

For an instant, I didn't understand what had happened. I blinked in sheer shock. My heart was pounding so loudly I thought it might burst. Hotaru seemed even more surprised than me; she had her eyes wide open and was covering her mouth. Even the rims of her trembling eyes were dyed crimson.

"I'm sorry, Ibuki-chan."

Saying this in a voice that sounded like it was going to tear apart, Hotaru tightly gripped the handles of her school bag. Just like that, she turned her back to me and broke into a run. The evening hallway was a gray that seemed to completely fill the transparent air. Her long hair fluttering, Hotaru went further and further away. Her small back growing even smaller.

Just as I was about to chase after Hotaru, I spotted a familiar back heading through the connecting corridor toward the student building. A pale lemon-colored nape. A beautifully shaped short haircut.

Yotsuji might have seen it. That accidental kiss just now.


 

The next day, and even the day after that, I didn't ask Hotaru anything about the kiss on the cheek, and Hotaru didn't say anything either. The awkward air that flowed between us for a while gradually faded as time passed.

There was nothing particularly different about Yotsuji, either. Yotsuji continued to say silly things and laugh frivolously, to the point where I felt like an idiot for carefully observing her minute words, actions, and slight shifts in her gaze.

As the cultural festival approached, I started spending my after-school hours and evenings making the doll dress Hotaru had designed. Even in this club with only two members, we technically had an advisor, and we were told to create pieces for the cultural festival's art exhibition.

Hotaru designed a gothic long dress using black and red colors. For me, who usually only makes accessories, using a needle and thread for handicrafts was a fresh experience, and even when things didn't go well, I found it fun.

Yotsuji had completed one sheep puppet and was now weaving friendship bracelets and making small mascots. Yotsuji's strategy was to pad our numbers with lots of little things so the club room wouldn't look too empty during the cultural festival exhibition.

Yotsuji gave a name to every single small mascot, and whenever she got tired of working, she would play around doing one-woman plays with them. Every single mascot Yotsuji made had a derpy, lovable face.

As the cultural festival drew near, the entire school was enveloped in a festival mood. Afternoon classes were dedicated to festival preparation, and everyone proceeded with prepping the attractions for their respective clubs and classes. Our class's attraction was a ring toss, a strike-out pitching game, and bowling. If you got a high score, you got candy. It was a pretty low-effort attraction. Some kids in the class had wanted to do a haunted house, but it seemed it was decided that a third-year class would do the haunted house every year.

Just before the festival, posters and promotional flyers were put up all over the school, making the inside of the building bright and lively. The faces of the students walking through the halls also seemed somewhat elated.

Hotaru drew the poster for the handicrafts club. Hotaru was good at drawing. What she drew was a picture of a little girl hugging a balloon, with an angel's halo floating above her head. Hotaru used watercolors to paint it beautifully. Yotsuji and I made color copies of the picture—which overflowed with a fizzy, transparent quality like carbonated water—and hung them on the walls of the student building and the bulletin boards of the special classroom building. Among a lineup of pop, eye-catching posters, the poster Hotaru drew radiated a charm that mysteriously drew people's eyes.

I somehow managed to finish making the dress by the time of the festival, and the day before, we lined up our pieces in the club room, ready to welcome the event. The cultural festival was visited by elementary and middle school students, high schoolers from other schools, and adults from the neighborhood.

In the courtyard, frankfurter and popcorn stalls were lined up, and in the gymnasium, the preliminary rounds for a singing contest had begun. For the first thirty minutes after the festival started, Yotsuji and I were assigned to man our class's strike-out game. We handed balls to the customers and gathered up the balls that fell on the floor. It seemed our class was getting a decent number of people. The customers coming in were mostly elementary schoolers, competing with their friends to see who could get the higher score.

After about thirty minutes on the job, the kids for the next shift arrived, and we went to the handicrafts club room. In the club room, Hotaru was looking after the place for us. A cramped room with only a few exhibited works. Even as one of the people involved, I thought it looked somewhat shabby.

In the center of the lined-up desks sat Hotaru's doll, wearing the dress I made. It was a white-skinned doll with sweet cream-colored hair and eyes like emeralds.

"Did anyone come?"

At Yotsuji's question, Hotaru shook her head.

"No one came."

"Figures. It's not like we're selling anything, and I mean, we hardly got any club budget anyway. Plus, the location is what it is, so it can't be helped."

Leaning her back against the wall, Yotsuji let out a bored yawn.

"It can't be helped."

To begin with, with so few members, we can't even sell the pieces we made. I can't make that many pieces either. However, I actually really liked the dress I made this time. For a first attempt, I think it turned out pretty well. Hotaru praised it a lot too, and seeing it actually put on the doll, it looked very beautiful.

I sat in a chair and gazed out at the courtyard. It seemed a bingo tournament was being held, and the venue was bustling with people holding bingo cards in one hand.

"Hey, does anyone want to go to the haunted house with me?"

Yotsuji raised her index finger as if poking the air. The cultural festival T-shirt our class was forced to buy suited Yotsuji surprisingly well. A flashy pink, baggy short-sleeve shirt. We were told to buy matching ones, so we did, but this flashy pink didn't suit me. When I wore it, I looked like a goofy comedian.

"Absolutely not. I'm scared of that."

Hotaru desperately refused to go to the haunted house; she really must not want to go. I had thought Hotaru seemed like she'd be bad with horror, and it seemed I was right.

"Hotaru is a scaredy-cat, so I guess it can't be helped. What about you, Ibuki? I hear the haunted house is high quality this time. Want to go together?"

I had also heard the rumors about this year's haunted house. Even the posters plastered all over the school conveyed how serious they were. It was probably more of a jump-scare type than genuinely terrifying, but I didn't dislike that sort of thing either.

"Hmm. Sure, let's go. It sounds a little interesting."

"Eeeh. You're going too, Ibuki-chan?"

Hotaru widened her eyes in surprise.

"Ibuki actually really likes scary things. She even goes to see horror movies and stuff."

When Yotsuji explained that, Hotaru gave an understanding nod, saying, "I see."

"I'll watch the room, so you two go on ahead. Tell me all about it when you get back."

"Roger, roger. Look forward to it."

Flashing a grin, Yotsuji replied in a light, bouncy voice.

"Thanks, Hotaru."

Pushing my chair back and standing up, I left the club room with Yotsuji.

Upon reaching the fourth floor where the third-year classrooms were, we heard girls screaming. It was coming from inside Class 3-1. Class 3-1, which had chosen a haunted house as their attraction this time, had put a lot of effort into the exterior decorations as well.

Tattered newspapers were plastered on the walls, "Haunted House" was written in what looked like blood-red spray paint, and a large skeleton figure hung from the ceiling. Pretty good atmosphere, I thought. I felt a little excited.

A long line had formed at the entrance. We lined up at the very end of it. A third-year wearing a white lab coat smeared with fake blood guided the waiting customers into the classroom one group at a time. After waiting about ten minutes, our turn came. Receiving a flashlight, we entered the classroom with me leading the way.

The air inside the classroom was thick and lukewarm. Creepy music meant to stoke fear played at a low volume. Spirit photos and horror movie posters were pasted on walls made out of cardboard.

"Kyaa, so scary."

Saying so in an overly dramatic voice, Yotsuji clung to me. Even as we walked, there was the loud thump of something being struck. Partway through, there was a path where we had to crawl through cardboard boxes, so we dropped to our knees and moved forward. Neither Yotsuji nor I were particularly surprised. The atmosphere was good, but we even had the composure to calmly evaluate it, thinking, This isn't really scary.

"Ah, I can almost see your panties, Ibuki."

"I'm wearing undershorts."

"Where's the dream in that? We're high school girls, you know."

The cardboard path ended. The size of our classroom and this one should be the same, but putting up multiple walls like this made it feel awfully spacious. It was hard to see ahead, making it feel like walking through a maze.

When I illuminated the path ahead with the flashlight, a severed head of a woman with disheveled hair dropped down.

"Kya!"

Yotsuji was startled. She reflexively hugged me tight. The severed head had vinyl string wrapped around it and was smoothly pulled back up above our heads.

"I wish I could have recorded your voice just now, Yotsuji, and let Hotaru hear it."

When I teased her, Yotsuji pressed her forehead against the nape of my neck and muttered, "Shut up," looking embarrassed.

Finding the exit, just as we were about to finish, a cleaning locker near the exit rattled loudly. Yotsuji let out a cute little shriek and was startled again. Stepping outside the classroom, Yotsuji was teary-eyed. I patted the head of Yotsuji, who was taller than me.

"I thought it was rare for you to say you wanted to go to a haunted house, Yotsuji. Even though you're bad with scary things."

Unlike me, who liked horror, Yotsuji was bad with scary things. Whenever I invited her to a movie, she would reluctantly tag along, and when a scary scene came on, she would close her eyes and cover her ears. Seeing Yotsuji like that was one of the fun parts of watching horror movies, so I was a little surprised to hear her say she wanted to go to the haunted house today.

Yotsuji puffed out her cheeks, putting on a brave front.

"Because I wanted to come with you, Ibuki."

"I thought it could have been a bit scarier, honestly."

Wanting to tease Yotsuji just a little more for saying such a cute thing with a face like she was about to cry, I said something a little mean.

"It was plenty scary enough!"

Perhaps not wanting me to see her face, Yotsuji briskly walked off on her own. So as not to be left behind by her, I quickened my pace and followed after.

When I returned to the club room, Hotaru was not there. Hotaru's doll, which had been displayed on the desk, was soaking wet, as if a drink had been poured over it. The resulting puddle had spread, and Yotsuji's works were also drenched in water.

"What is this? What's going on?"

Perhaps sensing the unsettling atmosphere flowing through the club room, Yotsuji frowned. The doll's hair, which was supposed to be a beautiful cream color, was clumped together in a soggy mess, and even the doll's expression looked somewhat overcome with sadness.

"I'm going to look for Hotaru."

I dashed out of the club room and headed for the Infirmary. The Infirmary is Hotaru's only sanctuary. If Hotaru was going to go anywhere, it had to be there. Pushing through the crowd, panting, I ran. Just the thought of something happening to Hotaru instantly changed the color of my world; sounds faded away, and I was filled with unbearable anxiety.

When I opened the door to the Infirmary, the curtains were drawn tight, and the room was enveloped in dim shadows. The nurse wasn't there. The sound of the radio couldn't be heard, either. Inside the quiet Infirmary, only the sound of Hotaru quietly sobbing could be heard.

Hotaru was crouching down, as if hiding in the shadow of the bed. She had buried her face in her folded knees.

"Hotaru."

When I called out to her, Hotaru raised her face. Her face was a mess of tears. Pale cheeks and bloodshot, bright red eyes. Hotaru sniffled and her shoulders trembled as if she were freezing.

"I'm sorry, Ibuki-chan. The dress you worked so hard to make for me... I let it get ruined like that."

"What happened?"

Looking at Hotaru's pained face made my own chest ache. The breaths I took felt like invisible lumps, failing to properly enter my body. Hotaru rubbed the inner corners of her eyes with her long, slender fingers. Her eyelashes, which drew a soft curve, looked heavy and wet with tears.

"You see, a girl who went to the same middle school as me came to the club room. She asked if the doll sitting there was mine, and when I said yes, she poured juice all over it."

My expression hardened. The fact that there was someone who would do something so cruel filled me with a sense of despair. The doll's soggy hair and the dark, thick stains seeping into the dress revived behind my eyelids. That doll was Hotaru's treasure.

"Why would she do that?"

"That girl liked the boy who confessed to me. We used to be really good friends, but ever since that day I was confessed to, she stopped talking to me."

"Even so, that's too cruel. I can't forgive that."

My voice trembled. The rims of my eyes grew hot. Anger completely filled me up.

"It's fine. It's my fault. It's all my fault."

Hotaru's eyes grew dark and cloudy, and her expression lacked any vitality. Clutching her head, Hotaru made pained breathing sounds like someone hyperventilating, and apologized to me over and over, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Even though her voice trembled minutely and sounded like it was going to tear apart, to me, it sounded like she was crying and screaming forcefully.

When I tried to touch Hotaru's violently heaving shoulders, Hotaru avoided my hand and stood up. She unzipped her school bag and took out something white and square from inside.

Hotaru came over to me, opened the packaging of the square object, and handed it to me.

"What is this?"

I stared at the object I received. A dry, hard texture that was neither cold nor warm. At the end of the handle, a sharply pointed, dull-colored needle stuck out.

"It's a piercing gun."

Hotaru sat down on the bed. Her shoulders looked one or two sizes smaller than usual.

Hotaru looked up at me with desperate eyes, as if appealing to me with everything she had inside her. What spread in the depths of those eyes was an infinite darkness. Hotaru must have had the experience of having things she cherished easily defiled many times before.

I felt that I wanted to love even that darkness inside Hotaru. Wishing for that so strongly, I might be dangerous. Perhaps it was truly something I shouldn't do.

But I want it. I want all of Hotaru.

"Are you adding another hole?"

"Yeah. I want you to pierce it, Ibuki-chan."

I dropped my gaze to the piercer in my hand. A sharply pointed silver needle. This is a weapon. If I use this, a hole will open in Hotaru's body. A wound will be made on Hotaru's body.

"Hotaru, are you really sure?"

When I asked, Hotaru nodded.

"You know, whenever something bad happens, I always pierce my ears. It takes time for the hole to fully heal. It hurts, and it bleeds. But I need that pain. Because it lets me truly feel that I've been through so much suffering. By the time the hole heals, I've forgotten the bad things, and I fill that hole with a new earring. That's how I've made it this far."

I swallowed. My throat made a gulping sound. Hotaru needs pain. She desires for me to pierce a hole in her.

Hotaru tucked her hair behind her ear. An ear covered in piercings. The seashell-like whiteness of the ear visible through the gaps between the earrings.

"Where should I pierce it?"

"Pierce it wherever you like, Ibuki-chan. Make it hurt a lot."

Hotaru said in a tearful voice, and then, like an exhausted little girl, she quietly closed her eyes.

Hotaru's eyes, covered by thin eyelids. Eyes as transparent as glass marbles, and as dark as the cosmos.

I want to make Hotaru mine. I want to leave a mark on Hotaru. So that absolutely everyone other than me stays away from her.

It was a muddy, viscous possessiveness. Wielding an overwhelming power, it tried to dominate my insides. But that was just an illusion; perhaps I had wanted to do this all along. This dark emotion blended so well with my body that it felt like this was my true self.

I pinched Hotaru's earlobe. An electrifying sensation shot through my entire body.

I placed the needle against a small empty space on her left earlobe. I could tell Hotaru was squeezing her eyelids shut tightly. My head spun dizzily, as if boiling water had been poured into it. Right now, I can't think of anything but Hotaru. What is this piercing euphoria? When I let out a hot breath, Hotaru exhaled a pained breath as well. My body felt like it was going to burn up.

Pleasure and joy becoming a jumbled mess, my eyes grew moist. The pit of my stomach tingled sweetly.

"Pierce it."

Hotaru said. As I put force into my fingers, there was a loud clack. I pulled the piercer away from Hotaru's ear.

A honey-yellow crystal stud earring shone alluringly on Hotaru's earlobe. When I touched the earring I had just pierced into her, Hotaru flinched with a tremble and let out a small sound. At that sound, my body reacted even more. With sensations I had never felt before, my body felt like it was going to break.

"It's yellow."

"Yes. Yellow. Your color, Ibuki-chan."

Hotaru smiled faintly. Yellow is my favorite color. I felt like I wanted to toy with this yellow earring with my fingers forever. With her lips trembling slightly, Hotaru raised her face.

We stared at each other. It was a moment that felt like eternity. An electric current ran between Hotaru and me.

The cell phone in my pocket vibrated. The call was from Yotsuji. When asked if I had found Hotaru, I answered that she was in the Infirmary. Yotsuji seemed relieved, saying, "That's good, then."

"Hey, so, since Hotaru's doll and my pieces are all soaked, I talked to the teacher, and he said it's okay for us to end the exhibition for today. What do you want to do? Is it okay if I pack it up?"

"Got it. I'm heading to the club room."

Ending the call, I spoke to Hotaru, who was still sitting on the bed.

"I'm going to the club room now, what are you going to do, Hotaru?"

"I'll go home for today."

Hotaru slung her bag over her shoulder and left the Infirmary. Passing right by me, Hotaru gave off a strong sweet scent, her cheeks flushed red.

Once Hotaru left the room, the noise and heat of the school came rushing into the Infirmary all at once. My feelings distorted and squishy like an overripe fruit, I headed to the club room and cleaned up the exhibited works with Yotsuji.

"We worked so hard making these, too."

Having washed the items with water and lined them up in the sun, Yotsuji murmured, looking lonely.