After that lunch with Yukinoshita Yukino—an affair whose atmosphere had been complex yet ultimately settled into calm—Hikigaya Hachiman left the Service Club room carrying a strange, post-narrow-escape feeling in his chest.
He gently pulled the door shut, temporarily sealing behind him that space infused with the fragrance of black tea, the scent of exquisite cooking, and some form of intangible pressure.
Walking down the hallway back toward the main school building, the afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows, stretching and shortening his shadow in turns.
He subconsciously touched his stomach.
Though the two heartfelt offerings had been shared, the portion that had ended up with him remained substantial.
He felt somewhat…
overly full.
‘Next time, I absolutely have to avoid this kind of situation,’ he swore inwardly.
‘This sweet burden is far too unfriendly to both the heart and the stomach.’
When he pushed open the door to his classroom, he spotted that familiar figure at a single glance.
Yuigahama Yui was standing beside his desk, her fingers absently twirling the ends of her hair, her gaze darting toward the door from time to time.
She had clearly been waiting for a while.
The moment she saw Hikigaya appear, her eyes instantly lit up—like a small animal injected with a burst of energy—and she immediately scampered over to greet him.
“Hikki!
You’re back!” Her voice carried obvious delight and a tiny hint of complaint.
“I’ve been waiting for ages!
Where did you go for lunch?
I wanted to find you so we could eat together…”
Hikigaya looked at Yuigahama’s face, practically inscribed with “hurry up and tell me,” and felt a slight tightening in his chest.
He knew that the inevitable question would find him sooner or later.
Abiding by the principles of “honesty (at least in certain respects) is a virtue” and “lying will get me killed by Yukinoshita’s glare,” he chose to tell the truth—even though it might trigger new troubles.
“…I went to the Service Club room.” He answered in a flat tone, doing his best to make it sound like an ordinary daily activity.
“I ate lunch with Yukinoshita.”
“Ehh?!” Yuigahama indeed let out a surprised cry, her eyes going wide and round.
But contrary to Hikigaya’s expectations, her face showed none of the disappointment or displeasure he had anticipated.
Instead, it was…
an excitement as if she had just discovered a whole new continent?
“Whoa!
Hikki, that’s so sneaky!” She puffed out her cheeks and protested in a tone tinged with playful reproach.
“Secretly eating lunch with Yukinon!
Next time!
Next time I’m joining in too!
Let’s all eat lunch together in the Service Club room!”
This sudden proposal made the corner of Hikigaya’s mouth twitch.
He could almost visualize the kind of suffocating atmosphere that would engender in the Service Club room.
Habitually, he couldn’t help but retort.
“…Then what about that little clique of yours?
What about Miura Yumiko and the others?
Don’t you usually eat with them?”
This question seemed to strike a blind spot in Yuigahama’s thinking.
She visibly froze, a brief flicker of internal conflict crossing her face.
Lunch with her riaju group was a safe zone she was used to.
But soon after, she let out a pfft of laughter, as if shaking off some burden.
In that unique tone of hers—a little scatterbrained yet resolute—she declared.
“Ahaha…
I’ll…
I’ll figure something out!
And eating with Hikki and Yukinon sounds like it’d be really fun too!”
‘Fun?
Are you sure it won’t just be a romantic battlefield rehearsal?’ Hikigaya complained inwardly, but seeing the eager expression on Yuigahama’s face—as if she could already picture the scene of the three of them happily lunching together—he swallowed the retort back down.
“Oh, right, right!” Yuigahama, seemingly unwilling to dwell on that topic any longer, immediately steered the conversation back to what she cared about most.
She leaned in a little closer, blinking her large eyes and looking at Hikigaya with eager anticipation.
A trace of barely perceptible nervousness lingered on her face.
“Hikki, don’t change the subject!
The bento…
the bento I made today—how was it?
Did it taste okay?”
So it had come to this ultimate question after all.
Hikigaya’s mind instantly flashed back to those previous culinary catastrophes of the “inedible to carbon-based life” tier.
His stomach gave a reflexive, faint spasm.
He forcefully suppressed the surging tide of snark inside him and cast his thoughts back to the tamagoyaki he had tasted at noon—which had, in fact, tasted fairly normal.
He averted his gaze, avoiding direct contact with Yuigahama’s overly intense stare.
In the most neutral tone he could manage—yet carrying a trace of affirmation—he answered.
“Mm…
you did well this time.
It was edible.”
For Yuigahama Yui’s cooking, “edible” and “well” was already a considerably high evaluation he could offer.
As expected, upon hearing this assessment, a smile as radiant as sunshine bloomed on Yuigahama’s face, as if she had just received the highest praise in the world.
“Really?
That’s great!
I told you all my practice paid off!
Next time I’ll make it even better!”
She had just gotten excited and was about to say more—perhaps to ask in detail which dish he liked, or to plan the next bento menu—
Ring-ring-ring—!
The class warning bell rang out like a precise referee, cutting off at just the right moment this conversation that was steadily veering toward danger (for Hikigaya’s stomach and heart, that is).
“Ah, class is starting.” Yuigahama pursed her lips with some regret, but obediently prepared to return to her own seat.
She waved at Hikigaya, the bright smile still on her face.
“Then we’ll talk more after class, Hikki!”
“Mm.” Hikigaya grunted in response.
Watching her flit back to her seat like a happy butterfly, he breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
‘Talk more after class…
hopefully she forgets that proposal.’
Just then, the classroom door was pushed open.
Hiratsuka Shizuka walked in with lesson materials tucked under her arm, her stride steady and firm.
Her sharp gaze swept across the classroom, and when it passed over Hikigaya and Yuigahama, who had just sat back down, it seemed to pause almost imperceptibly.
The corner of her mouth curved into an elusive, knowing arc.
“Alright, everyone back to your seats.” She placed the materials on the lectern, her voice clear and forceful.
“Class begins now.”
The noise in the classroom quickly subsided.
Hikigaya opened his textbook, trying to focus his attention on the lesson about to start.
But Yuigahama’s declaration—”Next time I’m joining in too!”—echoed unbidden through his mind.
Hikigaya’s stomach began to ache faintly once again.
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