Hiratsuka Shizuka’s booming declaration of a “request” still echoed through the clubroom, instantly seizing the full attention of all three.
“A request?” Yukinoshita spoke first.
She closed the book in her hands, her expression returning to the serious and composed mode of work.
“Please elaborate, Hiratsuka-sensei.”
Hiratsuka planted her hands on her hips, her gaze sweeping across the trio before her.
Her tone became slightly more businesslike.
“It’s a favor from a friend of mine who teaches at a nearby elementary school.
There’s a boy in her class—Aikawa Ren—who’s been absent for nearly a week now.
Contacting the parents only gets vague responses.
They say it’s a health issue, but something doesn’t sound right.”
She paused briefly before continuing.
“She’s a bit worried, but she can’t exactly show up for a home visit unannounced.
She’s just an elementary school teacher—her authority is limited.
She knows I work at this high school and heard we have a Service Club that’s ‘eager to help.’ So she wanted to ask if you could look into it—approach it as older high school students, go to the elementary school first to get a sense of the situation.
See if the kid’s run into some trouble at school, or maybe ask around among his classmates.”
She paused, then added, “Of course, the prerequisite is that you keep yourselves safe.
If you find the situation is complicated or dangerous, stop immediately and notify me.”
Yukinoshita barely hesitated.
She nodded.
“Understood.
Helping those in difficulty is precisely the reason the Service Club exists.
We accept this request.”
She turned to Hikigaya and spoke in a natural tone.
“Hikigaya-kun, after school tomorrow, we will go to Aikawa-kun’s elementary school together to investigate on-site.”
Hikigaya sighed inwardly.
Sure enough, another troublesome request had arrived.
An elementary school boy absent for days on end?
That sounded packed with all kinds of ominous possibilities—from simple school avoidance to complex bullying…
any one of them spelled trouble.
But looking at those ice-blue eyes of Yukinoshita’s, which brooked no argument, he knew he had no room to refuse.
He could only give a resigned “Mm.”
“Then what about me?!”
An urgent voice rang out.
Yuigahama Yui practically leaped to her feet, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Yukinoshita and Hiratsuka-sensei, her face filled with anticipation that screamed “I want to join too.” Her gaze lingered especially on Hikigaya for a moment, carrying an eagerness that didn’t want to be left out.
Before Yukinoshita could even open her mouth, Hikigaya reflexively retorted.
“You?
You haven’t even filled out a club admission form for the Service Club yet, have you?
Strictly speaking, you’re not even a member of the Service Club right now.”
He said this based purely on the facts and his instinct to avoid further complications.
He didn’t think much of it, and even less did he notice the flash of hurt that flickered through Yuigahama’s eyes.
Yet those words pricked Yuigahama like a needle.
The smile on her face instantly froze, and a clear sense of panic flashed through her eyes.
She didn’t want to be excluded.
She didn’t want to be left standing on the sidelines, just watching “Yukinon” and “Hikki” go off together.
This feeling of a line being drawn, separating her from them, made her heart ache for reasons she couldn’t quite name.
“I-I’ll fill it out right now!
As many as it takes!” Yuigahama said hurriedly, her voice carrying a barely perceptible note of grievance and urgency.
She turned to Hiratsuka.
“Hiratsuka-sensei, is there an admission form?
I’d like to apply to join the Service Club right now!” She wanted to stand by their side legitimately.
She wanted to take part—not just as a client, but as…
a companion.
Hiratsuka watched Yuigahama’s eager expression, then glanced at Hikigaya, whose face remained largely unchanged but whose eyes carried a hint of exasperation, and at Yukinoshita, who appeared calm and seemingly disinclined to interfere.
A meaningful grin spread across her face—the grin of someone thoroughly enjoying the unfolding spectacle.
“Oh?
That enthusiastic, are we?
Sure, I just so happen to have a form right here.” So saying, she actually pulled a folded sheet from the pocket of her lab coat and handed it to Yuigahama.
As if receiving a precious treasure, Yuigahama took the form, immediately whipped out a pen, and began earnestly filling it out, bent over the table.
Her intensity suggested she was completing a mission of vital importance.
As she wrote, the thought ran through her mind: ‘This way, I can do activities together with Hikki and Yukinon…’
Watching this scene, Hiratsuka let out a hearty laugh and clapped her hands.
“Right!
Then I’ll leave this matter to you, Service Club!
I’ll email the specific school and class info to Yukinoshita later.
Be careful out there, and contact me anytime if something comes up.”
With that, she swept out of the clubroom with the same whirlwind energy she’d arrived with, leaving behind the form-filling Yuigahama, along with Hikigaya and Yukinoshita, each wearing their own distinct expression.
Hikigaya watched Yuigahama writing furiously and felt his headache intensifying.
It seemed…
thanks to that one comment of his, things had become even more troublesome.
He hadn’t the slightest awareness of the impact his words just now had made on her.
Yukinoshita quietly observed Yuigahama filling out the admission form.
Her gaze occasionally flicked toward Hikigaya, a complex emotion swimming in her eyes.
She seemed to sense where that subtle urgency of Yuigahama’s stemmed from, but this realization stirred a weird, sluggish feeling in her heart—one she couldn’t clearly define even to herself.
In the end, she merely picked up her now-lukewarm cup of black tea, took a quiet sip, and said nothing.
…
The end of the school day arrived quickly.
Yuigahama finally finished filling out that admission application—which, in her eyes, was monumentally important—and handed it solemnly to Yukinoshita.
Yukinoshita accepted it with only a faint nod and a brief “I’ll take care of it” before putting it away.
This somewhat subdued reaction left Yuigahama feeling a tiny bit crestfallen, but she quickly rallied herself.
The three of them left the special-purpose building together.
At the school gate, Yukinoshita said to Yuigahama, “Yuigahama-san, tomorrow Hikigaya-kun and I will first go to Aikawa-kun’s elementary school to assess the situation.
Since you’ve only just joined the club, this time…”
“I’m going too!” Yuigahama cut in immediately, her eyes resolute.
“I’m a member of the Service Club now too!
And besides, the more people, the more help, right?” As she spoke, she cast a hopeful, expectant glance at Hikigaya, wishing he might say something.
Yukinoshita looked at her, then at Hikigaya, whose face radiated a clear “I don’t care either way” expression.
In the end, she gave a slight nod.
“…Very well.
Then tomorrow after school, we’ll meet here.”
“Okay!
It’s a promise!” Yuigahama smiled happily, then waved at the two of them.
“See you tomorrow then!
Yukinon!
Hikki!”
Watching Yuigahama’s bouncing figure as she left, Hikigaya and Yukinoshita also turned and headed in another direction.
The two walked side by side, yet for a while, neither spoke.
The setting sun stretched their shadows long, and the atmosphere held a subtle, quiet tension.
After they had walked some distance, Hikigaya couldn’t help but speak up, trying to break the silence that was making him increasingly uncomfortable.
“So…
Aikawa Ren.
What do you make of it?”
Yukinoshita kept her gaze forward, her voice even.
“Absent for a full week.
The parents’ explanation is vague.
The probability is high that it is not a simple physical ailment.
It may be a school-related issue.
We will need to observe on-site and make inquiries before we can judge.”
“Mm…” Hikigaya grunted in response, his mind already running through all manner of troublesome possibilities.
They walked a bit further.
Then Yukinoshita suddenly spoke, her voice soft.
“Yuigahama-san…
seems very enthusiastic.”
“…Ah, yeah.” Hikigaya had no idea why she’d suddenly brought this up.
He could only give a vague reply.
“One more troublesome person added to the mix.” He was, as always, filtering everything through his negativity-tinted lenses.
Yukinoshita glanced at him from the side, her gaze somewhat elusive.
“She seems…
to care quite a bit about your opinion.” She said this even more softly than before, but the implication within made Hikigaya’s heart skip a beat.
“Hah?” Hikigaya froze for a second, then turned his face away awkwardly, the tips of his ears growing warm.
“Does she?
That’s just how she is, no?”
He tried to brush it off in his usual manner, unwilling to dig deeper into the possibility hidden within those words.
Doing so would only drag him into even more troublesome territory.
Yukinoshita said nothing further.
She merely redirected her gaze toward the distance.
In her ice-blue eyes, a complex emotion flickered past.
She looked at the side of Hikigaya’s face, at his expression that so clearly screamed his desire to flee.
From somewhere deep in her heart, a faint, barely perceptible feeling…
perhaps relief?
Or perhaps something else…
quietly stirred.
And at that very moment, Yuigahama Yui, having already reached the corner up ahead, couldn’t help but stop in her tracks.
She turned back to gaze at those two retreating figures, walking side by side under the sunset glow, as if tied together by an invisible bond.
Yukinon was cool and exceptional.
Hikki always looked lazy and had a sharp tongue, yet he was surprisingly gentle and reliable…
Between them, there seemed to exist an atmosphere—something built from long years and shared secrets—that was hard for an outsider to penetrate.
Watching them walking side by side, that sour, aching feeling surged up in her heart once again.
She clenched her fist tightly.
A complex expression—a mix of confusion, envy, and a trace of stubborn defiance—surfaced on her face.
She murmured under her breath.
“What am I gonna do…” This growing fondness, now gradually becoming clear, along with the sense of powerlessness in the face of the special bond those two shared, left her heart in turmoil.
…
At the same time, in an apartment within an older, somewhat run-down residential district on the other side of the city.
“You worthless piece of trash!
Another crappy test score!
I bust my ass to put you through school, and this is the crap you bring back to show me?!”
A rough male voice echoed through the cramped space, accompanied by the sound of something being smashed.
A small, thin boy in a grimy elementary school uniform—Aikawa Ren—huddled in the corner, trembling violently.
A vivid red handprint marked his face.
Tears welled up in his eyes, but he bit down hard on his lip, not daring to let out a single sob.
Standing before him was a man with a flushed face, reeking of alcohol and hostility—his father, Aikawa Tsuyoshi.
By the man’s feet lay a shattered empty liquor bottle, shards of glass scattered across the floor.
“What’re you looking at, you little bastard?!” Seeing his son staring at him, Tsuyoshi’s rage flared even higher.
He raised his foot as if to kick.
Ren squeezed his eyes shut in terror, curling his body even tighter.
In his hand, he clutched desperately at a small, faded, worn-out soft-vinyl figure—Kamen Rider Kuuga.
It was the one and only gift his mother, who had long since run away from home, had ever given him.
A long, long time ago.
“Useless!
Garbage!
Just like that runaway mother of yours!
All worthless!”
His father’s curses fell like icy knives, cutting mercilessly into his young heart.
“School?
Screw school!
A waste of my money!
You’d be better off getting the hell out there and bringing me back some cash!”
“Damn it, up to my neck in debt…
if I can’t pay it back soon, those bastards are gonna carve me up for sure…” Tsuyoshi raved, his eyes clouded and crazed.
He stared at his son, cowering on the floor.
A terrifying thought suddenly seized him.
“…If it comes down to it, tomorrow I’ll just sell you off to those places that need ‘help’!
Keeping you around’s just wasting food anyway!”
These vicious words struck like a final thunderclap, shattering the last line of defense in Aikawa Ren’s heart.
Amid his father’s unbearable abuse and this horrific threat, he pressed his forehead against the ice-cold wall.
The tears, at last, slid silently down his cheeks.
He gripped that tiny figure—that symbol of a “hero” and of “protection”—with all his might.
From deep within, a faint, despairing voice screamed in silence.
“Kamen Riders…
they’re all just lies…”
“In this world…
there’s no hero coming to save me…”
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