A light knock on the door broke the subtle deadlock inside the clubroom.
“Come in.” Yukinoshita responded in her characteristic cool, clear voice.
The door eased open a crack, and a girl wearing glasses timidly peered in.
“Excuse me…
is this the Service Club?”
“Yes, I am the president, Yukinoshita Yukino.” She gave a slight nod, her gaze inadvertently brushing past Hikigaya.
“This is Hikigaya Hachiman.”
“I’m Kinoshita Yuko from Class 1-C, a member of the reading club…” The girl quietly explained her purpose.
It turned out she wanted to survey the students’ reading preferences to provide references for the library’s book purchases, but she was short on manpower, and had come seeking help at Hiratsuka-sensei’s suggestion.
‘Hiratsuka-sensei again…’ The corner of Hikigaya’s mouth twitched involuntarily.
After hearing her out, Yukinoshita nodded without hesitation.
“Understood.
The Service Club accepts this request.”
Kinoshita’s face immediately lit up with delight.
“Thank you so much!”
Then Yukinoshita displayed her usual high efficiency, swiftly confirming the specific details of the survey with the girl.
Hikigaya was happy to enjoy his idle time, continuing to play the role of background scenery, though he still couldn’t manage to absorb a single word of the textbook.
As things were mostly settled and Kinoshita was about to leave, her gaze suddenly fell on Hikigaya, tinged with curiosity.
“Um…
since we’re doing a reading survey, could I first ask what kind of books you two like?
Just as a reference?”
Trouble had, after all, found its way to him.
Yukinoshita answered almost without a second thought.
“I prefer mystery novels and social science works.
My current favorite is ‘The Tragedy of Y.'”
Very much in line with her usual style—rational and precise.
Then, both of their gazes converged on Hikigaya.
“Me?” He scratched his cheek.
“No particular preference in genre.
If I had to say, maybe history.” Reading about the history of mankind repeating the same mistakes always brought him a certain sense of relief about his own unremarkable life.
“I see…
Then, what is your absolute favorite book?” Kinoshita pressed on.
His absolute favorite book?
The air seemed to solidify for an instant.
Even Yukinoshita quietly watched him, waiting for his answer.
Blurry images flickered through Hikigaya’s mind.
The community library in summer, the cool wooden floor, two small figures sitting side by side…
He lowered his eyes, and his voice unconsciously sank lower.
“The Little Prince.”
The moment the words left his mouth, even he himself was stunned.
Kinoshita blinked, looking somewhat surprised.
“The Little Prince…
That’s a really heartwarming book.” She lowered her head and earnestly jotted it down.
Meanwhile, on the other side—
Yukinoshita’s breath unmistakably caught.
Hikigaya lifted his gaze and saw that her always tranquil, ice-blue eyes had widened slightly, revealing an astonishment she couldn’t quite conceal.
Her fingers, resting on her lap, unconsciously curled inward, her knuckles turning faintly pale.
“The Little Prince…?” she repeated softly, her voice carrying a tremor so faint it was almost imperceptible.
This sudden answer had caught her completely off guard, and a corner of her heart she had carefully kept sealed away seemed to have been gently touched.
She hadn’t expected to hear the name of that book from his lips again, here and now.
“Yeah.” Hikigaya gave a vague grunt and quickly averted his eyes.
‘Damn, why did I blurt that out…’
“Th-Thank you very much!” Kinoshita, seemingly oblivious to the delicate atmosphere between the two, expressed her thanks and hurriedly left.
The door clicked shut.
Only the two of them remained in the clubroom.
Silence spread through the air, thicker and more suffocating than before.
Yukinoshita did not pick up her book again.
She just sat there quietly, her gaze somewhat adrift, as if staring into some distant time and space.
That summer afternoon, the cool wooden floor of the library, and the time spent sitting side by side with Hikigaya flipping through picture books—those long-buried memories had suddenly become vivid.
She didn’t understand why her heartbeat was so unsteady now, and could only attribute it to being caught unprepared by the past suddenly resurfacing.
Hikigaya felt his own heartbeat was far too loud.
The Little Prince—that was the book he had read together with Yukinoshita at the library a long, long time ago.
He remembered her pointing at the rose in the book, saying with her clear, bell-like voice, “This flower…
is so foolish.”
“Why?”
“Because what is truly important is invisible, you know.”
Back then, Hikigaya hadn’t really understood the meaning of those words.
He had just thought that the things this girl said were always as hard to grasp as the books she read.
Later, they went to different schools and never contacted each other again.
That book, and that afternoon, were buried deep in his memory.
He had never imagined he would mention it again here, in this way.
Even less…
that Yukinoshita would react like this.
Did she…
still remember?
Remember that afternoon, remember that “foolish” rose, remember that brief stretch of time they had once spent together?
He stole a glance upward.
The sunlight gently spilled over her, tracing the beautiful outline of her profile.
But that icy shell always encasing her seemed to have cracked open a faint fissure because of those words—”The Little Prince”—vaguely revealing a soft, bewildered trace that belonged to the past.
‘This is bad.’ Hikigaya brooded to himself.
He seemed to have carelessly opened a box that should have stayed shut.
It looked like the days ahead were truly going to become insanely troublesome.
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