Chapter 121: June 15th (Tuesday) — Ayase Saki
Chapter 121: June 15th (Tuesday) — Ayase Saki
"Did you watch yesterday's drama?"
I tilted my head in response to Class Rep's question.
I was in the middle of changing in the locker room. While I was pulling on my gym shirt, my head almost got stuck with it angled like that, and I nearly turned into quite the funny sight.
"Phew... Huh? A drama?"
"You talking about 'Aokoi[1]'?"
[Not a real drama as far as I can see.]
Ryo-chin, or Satou-san I should say, quickly chimed in from where she was standing next to me.
Aokoi? Blue... Carp? Some kind of sudden mutation?
"Course I am! Going off that face you're making, Ayase-san, you don't know it?"
"Oh, you haven't watched it?"
"...I don't really watch dramas—"
Ah, crap. I'm going to derail the conversation.
"—I mean, I don't, but what kind of drama is it?" I hastily added.
Chances are it's not a story about breeding improved varieties of carp… probably.
"It's called 'Fell in Love with that Blue Sky.' Everyone talks about it whenever it's airing on Monday at 9!" Class Rep said passionately.
Satou-san explained it was a romance drama with a hot guy and a gorgeous girl in the leads. And she went on and on about just how hot and gorgeous they were.
You should finish changing first. It's all hanging out. I won't say what though.
Class Rep was apparently really into the story part of the drama, enthusiastically explaining how it was a modern narrative mixing in reincarnation and time-leaping.
"Y-yeah. I get it."
"Just try watching it once!"
"If I have time."
I've gotten better at giving standard lines to dodge the topic. Personally, I think I've become more sociable. If it were the old me, I would've cut the conversation short with a blunt, "Not interested."
I still have zero interest, but the reason I'm going along with it without trying to end the conversation lies in the fact that they know things I don't.
Convos about celebrities, overseas dramas, K-pop idols, YouTubers…
Class Rep and Satou-san bounce from one topic to another with no clear connection, so it's hard to keep up. Though, I think I'm more interested in them talking about it than the actual content of the conversation itself.
Plus, there's so much I don't know, and it makes me realize how vast the world is.
As I finished changing and tying up my hair for volleyball, Class Rep asked me something when there was a lull in the conversation.
"Hey, Ayase-san, what kinda stuff do you usually watch?"
"What kind…?"
"Seems like you don't watch TV, but what about videos?"
"Um, recently?"
What videos I'd watch—
"Maybe sports videos explaining the basics of volleyball?"
"So diligent!"
"That's amazing. I should've watched them too. Maybe I would've gotten a little better."
"No, no. If just watching made you good, there'd be no need to practice, right? You should watch them as a reference though. Anyway, you've been practicing your butt off, Ryo-chin! That's more than enough!"
"Yeah, true. I didn't even know the rules."
I wasn't being modest. I'm just not very knowledgeable about sports. If it were a competition on fashion trends, maybe I'd stand more of a chance.
"Anyway, if anyone can pull it off, it's you, Ayase-san! We're counting on you, ace!"
"Don't be ridiculous..."
That's way too much pressure, Class Rep.
As I was leaving the locker room, I passed a girl coming in.
"Oh?"
"Oh, it's Saki. Long time no see!"
It was Maaya.
We'd be in the way chatting at the door, so I let Class Rep go ahead and went back into the locker room to chat with Maaya for a bit. It ended up just being to make sure each other was doing well, though.
I said, "See you," and quickly went to leave the locker room.
Maaya threw a challenge at my back as I was nearly out the door.
"Our class won't lose!"
I didn't look back, just waving and then closing the door behind me.
She can say she won't lose all she wants, but looking at the tournament chart, if we were to face Maaya, it'd be in the finals… Can we even make it that far?
***
With the opening ceremony in the schoolyard done and dusted, students dispersed to their respective competitions.
From above, it'd look like a swarm of ants skittering this way and that.
We were all wearing matching white gym uniforms. Ah, there were also students in tracksuits, I should add. Given the heat, there were more people taking theirs off though.
Within the stream of people, some were being sucked into a kamaboko-shaped building, namely the students participating in indoor sports. Me, Class Rep, and Satou-san were among them.
When we passed through the door, I saw that the first matches had already started. Volleyball on one half of the gymnasium, and basketball on the other.
"We still have a bit of time, let's watch from up top!" Class Rep suggested.
"Up top?" I wondered, and Satou-san said, "Sounds good."
It turned out she meant to watch from the catwalk on the second floor—a place I hadn't been in three years at Suisei High. Looking up, I could already see a heap of students watching from up there. Interesting.
On the way, we passed by the basketball team. My eyes met with Asamura-kun's, and after exchanging quick nods, I moved on. We climbed up the stairs next to the stage to the second floor. We could stay here and watch until it was our turn.
You could hear bursts of loud cheering every now and then, both from the catwalk and the court below. Looking more closely, it wasn't just the girls with their high-pitched squeals, but boys shouting just as enthusiastically. Though, their shouts sort of felt more like a brownish noise compared to the yellowish screams of the girls.
"What's that?"
"Hm? The basketball side. Oh, look at the boy with the red head over there. It's an even more flashy color than Ayase-san's."
"Who is he?"
I genuinely just didn't know, but even Satou-san was giving me a "Seriously?" look.
"It's Otosaka from class two-four, one grade below us," Class Rep enlightened me.
"What? Is he famous or something?"
"Well, he's pretty much as famous as you, Ayase-san. Actually, he might be even more famous lately. It's not just his flashy looks; he's also in MA."
"MA?"
What the heck's that?
"Music Association. Like a light music club at other schools."
I flipped through my mental dictionary to find "association." I think it means a group voluntarily formed by people with a common goal. Ah okay, so it's like a music appreciation group.
"Why's it called that?"
"Who knows? Apparently it's been called that for ages."
"Hmm."
I remembered going to a visual kei[2] band's performance at last year's cultural festival with my classmates. That was a rare moment when I indulged in someone else's hobby. If he's a second-year now, he must've been a first-year back then. Was he on stage back then? I can't remember for the life of me.
[Visual kei is a Japanese subculture that combines elaborate fashion, dramatic makeup, extravagant hairstyles, and diverse music genres.]
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Oh, he fell.
Looks like he lost his balance while twisting his body to receive a pass. High-pitched screams erupted.
"Why?"
"'Cause he's tall, maybe?"
"Ah, yeah, height's an advantage in basketball, isn't it?"
"No... I don't think those screams were about that, though," Class Rep said, and I tilted my head.
As I watched, there was a "Kyaa" when a shot was made, and a "Kyaa" even when it missed. What's up with that?
"Well, it's like people think he's cool, or he's a feast for the eyes. Don't you think?"
"Um, I'm not really sure."
I suppose that occasionally, some students would make a shot from far away; and those moments did make me think, "Wow, that's impressive."
"I think their plays 'impressive,' which is also cool in their own way, right?"
"I mean, isn't that just part of a basketball game?"
"Well, then visual kei bands wouldn't really work out, would they?"
"...True."
That does make sense. Back then, I just sort of nodded along without much thought when the bands mentioned the pursuit of a "world view." I mean, if you're into "impressive" performances, wouldn't you just go and listen to the professionals? In that sense, expecting "impressive" performances from a high school sports festival, where not even club members participate, is probably misguided. What does "cool" really mean anyway?
"Ah. It's our class up next. Should we get closer?" Satou-san said.
The match was over, and it was now Asamura-kun and his team's turn. They were playing against a team of second years, who snagged the initial jump ball and quickly scored on us.
"It's okay! It's just one point! Let's get it back!" Class Rep yelled.
Wow, that was loud. So this is Class Rep at full power.
"Think we'll be okay…?" Satou-san said, sounding worried.
Class Rep's answer came with an unusually serious face.
"I think our team can put up a good fight. Yoshida is good at shooting, and Kodama apparently played basketball in junior high."
"Oh really?"
"Yep. I heard it when we were having a meeting for the temporary Home Economics Club."
That so?
I watched the progress of the game. It was just as Class Rep said—Yoshida-kun and Kodama-kun were definitely a cut above the rest in terms of skill. The opposing team also had a skilled player, but we had two… no, wasn't Asamura-kun also pretty good?
"Asamura-kun is doing surprisingly well, isn't he?"
"H-he is?"
"He's positioning well. See, he got another pass."
Watching the game, yeah, the ball definitely did find its way to Asamura-kun a lot. He connected those passes well with his teammates; If he passed to Kodama-kun, he dashed deep into the enemy's side, and if the ball went to Yoshida-kun, it mostly turned into a shot on goal.
"That was a close one, huh?"
Yoshida-kun's shot hit the backboard but sadly bounced out of the ring. The kid who picked up the rebound passed it back to Asamura-kun. It went to Yoshida-kun again and this time—it went in.
"Amazing, amazing! It's a turnaround!"
Satou-san, who's already like a small animal, was actually hopping around all lively, like a real tiny creature. So, there really are people who literally hop around in real life.
"Hmm, I wonder why."
Our class had taken the lead, but Class Rep was groaning.
"Asamura, you could've taken that shottt…"
Eh. Using his name without honorifics?
"Ah, sorry. Asamura-kun. I tend to get a bit rough with my words when I'm excited."
Huh? Why is she apologizing to me?
"You know, Asamura-kun, you could've shot it yourself without passing it to Yoshida, right?"
"Didn't he want to make sure it went in? It was a chance for a turnaround, after all," Satou-san said.
Class Rep put a hand on her cheek and thought for a moment.
"Maybe. But from what I've seen, Asamura-kun hasn't taken a single shot."
Thinking about it, she wasn't wrong.
Well, if he's setting up shots by passing to his teammates, isn't that good enough?
I remember last summer, when we all went to the pool, he willingly took on that supportive role.
"Anyway, we're against second years, so I think we can win. It's not that scary."
I wonder what she means. It was a curious choice of words, but while I was mulling over it, the game ended.
In the end, it felt like a proper victory. I think Asamura-kun was moving around while keeping a good eye on his surroundings the entire time. That's a wonderful aspect of him, I found myself thinking again.
He might not stand out, but…
While I was absentmindedly enjoying the view from above, the time for our match to start rolled around.
I climbed down to the first floor and joined the others gathered beside the volleyball court.
Our team captain, of course, was Class Rep. The whistle blew, marking the start of my first team competition at a sports festival.
Not to toot my own horn, but I thought I did decently at the start. Since everyone in volleyball was inexperienced, there were no fast and strong serves or attacks from the opponent, making it manageable for us. That meant I could receive and, while weak, even launch attacks of my own. Well, to be fair, I did make some empty swings too.
"Let's keep up the pace!" Class Rep spurred us on.
I nodded, receiving the ball. It was my turn to serve.
As I lightly bounced the ball, walking to the end line, I looked up without thinking. A heap of students were packed shoulder-to-shoulder on the second-floor catwalk. Huh, when did so many people—
The second I realized I was being watched, I felt my heart tighten. This is bad, I thought. I mean, I was just up there watching too. Nothing's really changed, I just hadn't noticed it until now.
I swallowed. My throat felt parched. My nerves were getting the best of me, tying my limbs into knots. The awareness of being watched felt like needles pricking my skin.
My serving technique is a so-called "floater serve," where I would face the opponent's court and hit the ball without jumping. It needed a little practice compared to an underhand serve, but it wasn't as difficult as a jump serve.
I would toss the ball with my left hand and hit it with my right as it fell. I had practiced it many, many times and rarely failed to get the ball into the opponent's court. Yet, this time, I failed.
I gave the other team one point and lost the serve.
Something inside me snapped. The thought of making a mistake turned into fear. Steps that I should have been able to take, I couldn't. Hands that should have reached out, didn't. The thought that I have to make a good play ironically summoned the anxiety of "What if I can't?"
I was acutely aware of how my limbs were refusing to cooperate. And, predictably, the opponents started targeting me with the ball. It was thrown in a gentle arc, flying towards my face. I hurriedly took a step back, but being in the front, I was worried about what was behind me, and my legs got tangled up, causing me to fall over. I fell back, landing on my butt with a thump. It hurt. The ball barely grazed my face as it whizzed by. Obviously there was no way I could pick it up.
"Ayase-san!"
I snapped to attention. Even in the midst of all the cheering, I could recognize that voice anywhere. It was Asamura-kun.
The thought of him watching, or rather, having been watched by him, made me feel awkward and my movements sluggish. I tried to stand up, my eyes watering from the pain, but my knees felt like jelly. I couldn't help looking back, and our eyes met for a moment. This is bad. I'm making him look so worried. I looked away. I didn't want him to see my eyes, so full of fear and uncertainty.
"Here," a voice said, and a hand came with it.
I grabbed hold and used the momentum to pull myself to my feet. Class Rep stood there looking apologetic.
"Why don't you take it easy? Everyone's got your back."
Glancing around, there was no blame on the faces of my five teammates on the court or the subs on the sideline.
"It's okay. I'll cover you too!" Satou-san said as she ran over with both hands clenched into fists.
"Ah, okay."
That's right. This is a team sport. That's why I didn't want to be a burden, but by thinking that, I'm actually being more of one.
"Got it. Thank you."
I stood up straight and slapped my cheeks hard with both hands. The dry sound echoed louder than I expected, and I thought I might have overdone it a bit, but I needed to pull myself together.
Satou-san looked shocked and took a step back. Never thought I'd see a teammate get scared of me.
I looked back one more time to make sure Asamura-kun was still there. Yes.
It's okay. He's not the type to laugh at someone's failure. I remembered his warm eyes and the worry in his voice when he called out to me earlier.
The opposing team's serve came. The ball was served underhand, which was weak, but it seemed controllable, and they targeted me again. It looked like it would fall just a little in front of me.
What Class Rep said earlier grazed the corner of my mind.
"You could've shot it yourself."
"It's not that scary."
Being terrified and freezing up from thunderstorms and blackouts was more than enough.
Everyone will back me up. So, I shouldn't be frightened of failure. The step I couldn't take before—I have to take it now!
Leaning forward, I managed to get my arms under the ball in time. The ball barely lifted and was carefully set by Satou-san. Class Rep followed up by skillfully avoiding the opposing team's block and slamming it down into their court. It landed cleanly between two of their players.
"We did it!"
Everyone cheered as if we'd already won.
The serve was returned to us, and as a front player, I stepped back to serve again.
This is where I choked last time. This time, I won't lose.
There's no need to hit it hard. If we play it nice and slow, the other team isn't as good as us.
I breathed in and out, in and out, relaxing my whole body.
The tension bled out of me before I knew it. Don't think about the gallery. They're not really cheering for you.
I thought back to the worry in Asamura-kun's eyes. He's not expecting me to do something amazing. If he did, he would've looked at me with disappointment earlier. He's "supporting" me so I can give it my all.
I looked up at the gym ceiling and breathed out.
I served, the ball tracing a beautiful arc and landing just on the edge of the opponent's end line.
After the successful serve, I looked back and caught Asamura-kun's eyes.
I mouthed a silent, "Thank—you" to him.
Asamura-kun would probably say he didn't do anything, but when I felt he was watching over me, I could relax. Just like during the blackout.
He is there for me. I can tell he's supporting me.
Compared to the unbearable anxiety I felt in April, when I had to barge into his room and be held by him to find peace, I can keep it together a bit more now.
I don't need to barge into his room anymore; He wants to walk to school together in the morning, and he talks to me more in class. I know he's trying to close the distance between us.
I thought he was a trustworthy person, but… now I feel that even more.
Our team kept the momentum going and won the match.
We were tired, but when we heard that Asamura-kun's game was coming up, we moved to the side of the basketball court. We couldn't spare a moment to climb up to the catwalk, so we started cheering right away.
Yeah, this is "support."
I'm not expecting him to look cool. I'm just scared he's holding back, not showing what he's really capable of.
The result is just the result. Even if he doesn't score, I won't be disappointed.
The opposing team was Maru-kun's class, Asamura-kun's best friend. Maru's the captain and the main catcher of the Suisei High's baseball team (I don't know whether that's a big deal or not). From what everyone had said, he's a formidable opponent.
"Alright, everyone, let's cheer our hearts out!" Class Rep shouted to our classmates gathered around the court. She's incredibly energetic despite only just having gone all out in volleyball.
But, how do you even go about cheering?
I mean, I've only ever taken part in tennis for our sports festivals, which is a solo competition, so I don't know what to shout since I've never been cheered on before. Well, strictly speaking, I do remember practicing cheering in class during junior high, but by then, I was already pretty cynical and blatantly ignored it, so I don't remember it at all.
We haven't really practiced it in class or anything—right?
As I mumbled something to that effect, Satou-san, who was beside me, said, "Just calling out the name of your favorite person[3] is enough."
[She uses 推し(oshi) here, a Japanese slang term for your favorite person or character, often used in pop culture fandoms, like for idols or manga/anime characters.]
Oh, favorite?
"If you shout the name of the person you want to support, they'll be like, 'Ah, someone is watching and supporting me'!"
Is that how it is?
But if I do that, won't everyone know who my favorite is? Plus, I want to support him, but I also don't want to put any pressure on him.
"Isn't cheering them on in your heart enough?"
"Ayase-san... you're so stubborn."
Why am I being stared at with such reproachful eyes?
"It's not embarrassing to support someone who's giving it their all, y'know?"
"No, it's not because it's embarrassing..."
"Ahhh!"
Huh?
I hurriedly looked back at the court.
In a flash, a pass was made, and a large-framed boy was barrelling towards his team's goal.
The sound of the ball rhythmically dribbling on the floor echoed in the gymnasium. Asamura-kun and his teammates frantically gave chase, but with a speed that didn't match his large size, he rushed beneath the goal and scored with beautiful form.
The moment he scored, he turned around, the eyes behind his round glasses curving into a smile. Maru-kun.
"Oh dear. That big guy is pretty good, isn't he?" Class Rep said in a raspy voice.
The first half ended with us down five points.
***
Tension hung thick in the air.
The looks on the faces of the boys' basketball team, taking a break on the sideline, seemed a bit gloomy.
"This is bad... We might lose at this rate."
Class Rep's dire analysis of the situation brought down the mood, Satou-san and the cheer squad included.
"But there's still the second half!" I blurted out without thinking.
Class Rep lifted her head and stared at me as if she was seeing something strange.
"Ah… Yeah, true. No, no, we can't give up. Just like Sakki[4] said."
[Class Rep said her name as "さっきー" which phonetically sounds like Sa-Kiii.]
S-Sakki? Who's that? Well, whatever, that doesn't matter right now.
"Everyone, listen up! We haven't lost yet!" Class Rep said while slowly looking into the faces of each of our classmates.
Y-yeah. That's pretty much what I said.
"Let's keep cheering them on until the end!"
"Yeah!" the male cheer squad fired back with their booming voices, and the girls nodded along. Satou-san was clenching her fist and saying, "We'll do our best!"
The referee blew the whistle to resume the game, and the second half began.
"Hmm. They changed their strategy a bit," Class Rep said as she stared intently at the court.
I couldn't tell how she came to that conclusion, but definitely, compared to the first half, our class had regained some momentum.
Little by little, the five point lead shrank until it was almost gone.
Asamura-kun was still playing support, but he seemed to be in a position closer to the goal compared to the first half.
Cheers of, "Good job!" and "Keep it up!" echoed in the gymnasium.
Some students called out specific names. Many of those cheers were apparently directed at the skilled Yoshida-kun and the small Kodama-kun.
We finally closed the gap to just one point, and a pass went to Asamura-kun. With a fluid motion, Asamura-kun readied to pass the ball to Yoshida-kun—no, he changed his mind and he turned, forcefully taking the shot himself.
A wave of cheers started to rise, but sadly, the ball refused to go through the hoop, and the rebound was snatched by the opposing team, who immediately scored.
The cheers turn into screams.
"Yep. That's good, Asamura."
Huh? I was learning forward, but couldn't help turning around. Class Rep's eyes were narrowed behind her under-rim glasses and a smile was planted on her face.
"That was his first shot just now, wasn't it?"
"Y-yeah, it was, but…"
I knew that. I mean, I've been watching the whole time. Sure, Yoshida-kun was being marked by the opposing team, but I never thought he'd go and take the shot himself like that.
"You got this."
"Just keep taking those shots!"
Those voices were from Asamura-kun's teammates, directed at him.
It sounded like a good thing to say he was being more aggressive, but I thought it might just come off as him hogging the ball or playing solo.
But, as Class Rep said, the tide had turned now.
"Is it just me… or are we pushing them back?"
"Asamura, ah, sorry, I mean Asamura-kun—"
There you go apologizing again.
"Now that they know he can shoot, they can't ignore him anymore. Till now, it was okay to leave him be."
I didn't really get it, but that did seem to be the case. The opposing team was clearly more bewildered than before whenever Asamura-kun had the ball. Obviously because he might turn around and take a shot.
The game went back and forth, and Asamura-kun was subbed out. As he walked across the sideline, classmates' voices saying, "That was close" flew his way.
"Come on, Asamura~! You can do it~!" Class Rep loudly called out to him, egging him on.
Asamura-kun turned towards the voice. He could probably see me standing next to her.
When Asamura-kun returned to the court after a rest, the point difference had narrowed to one, and there was about one minute left on the clock.
Straight away, the ball was passed to Asamura-kun. He passed it off instantly and ran towards the goal. The pass connected, and Kodama-kun cut in with a dribble. Then a pass to Asamura-kun in front of the goal! Maybe a shot!? But it looked like that was just a feint, and he passed it off to Yoshida-kun. It was a bit far, but, without hesitation, Yoshida-kun launched the ball at the goal. Probably because there wasn't much time left. Maybe about 30 seconds, I think.
I thought the ball, drawing an arc through the air, would definitely go into the basket. But cruelly, it missed, bouncing out again. Honestly, I thought it was over at that point.
Everyone swarmed towards the ball. Asamura-kun was the one who managed to snag it as it bounced up. He looked around, eyes darting this way and that, looking for somewhere to pass. As he did so the referee looked at the clock and put the whistle in his mouth.
My throat tightened. It was almost time-up. I watched as Asamura-kun's darting eyes zeroed in on the goal.
I gasped.
He took a step forward.
Taking that step is scary. I know that because I'd just experienced that feeling a moment ago. But his foot was facing the goal.
"If you shout the name of the person you want to support, they'll be like, 'Ah, someone is watching and supporting me'!"
Reversing that, if you don't say it, they won't understand, and it won't get across to them…
Even when I'm scared, someone will always be there for me. In the darkness a certain someone hugged me and taught me that.
So, I also—
"A—"
Do your best! Keep going!
"Asamura-kuuun!" I squeezed out from the depths of my throat.
Asamura Yuuta let the ball fly from his hand even as he was losing his balance.
The round object drew a high arc as it rotated through the air. It was as if its trajectory painted a rainbow spanning the blue sky outside the window. It bounced off the backboard. Time seemed to slow, as if everything was in slow motion. The ball slipped inside the net.
My ears had shut out all the sounds of the world, and in the silence, all I could see was the ball. It looked as if it was squeezed out of the net, and fell down.
The sound of the whistle sharpened in my ears, and the flow of time returned to normal with it.
The ball bounced, and rolled on the floor. We were all cheering our lungs out. Asamura-kun had sat down on the floor.
"WOOOOO!"
"WE WON!"
Everyone around us was also making a big fuss about the dramatic ending.
Satou-san was even in tears, but hold on, this wasn't even the final match or anything, was it?
Anyway—I do think they did their best.
"Hmm~. That was good cheering, Ayase-san," Class Rep said.
"Huh? Oh."
All I did was call out Asamura-kun's name….
"Well, it's normal. He's a classmate."
"Hoho. He sure is…"
Eh. Did she notice how cool Asamura-kun is?
"He was indeed a sight worth cheering for."
I considered those words for a moment and then nodded slightly.
"He was."
For whatever reason, a wry smile flashed across Class Rep's face, but I purposely pretended not to see.
It was almost noon, and we were about to go into lunch break. Class Rep loudly suggested everyone have lunch.
That reminds me, the temporary Home Economics Club, led by her, is making rice balls.
If I'd known, I would've at least made miso soup. Well, you know, for the sake of my classmates.
When the sports festival resumed in the afternoon, neither Asamura-kun's basketball team nor our volleyball team made it to the finals, but our class managed decent results overall.
I was pretty exhausted, but truthfully, I realized that team sports aren't so bad.
And so, my third year sports festival at Suisei High came to a close.
***
That night, both Asamura-kun and I were tired, so we decided to have dinner early.
When you're wiped out, the later it gets, the more of a pain it is to prepare food and clean up afterward. And if you feel like that, chances are you'll take a bath and go straight to bed without doing much else.
We decided on a simple menu. Specifically, we just grilled the mackerel that Mom had bought. The salad was pre-made. We did grate some radish for the mackerel though.
We did also make miso soup. The only ingredient of which was fried tofu.
After dinner, we both had a cold glass of roasted green tea and finally took a breather.
"Today was so tiring, wasn't it?" I said, letting out a half-sigh.
Asamura-kun nodded.
As Asamura-kun and I reflected on the sports festival, somehow, the conversation drifted to how incredible athletes are. We talked about the difficulty of practicing every day, and somehow, it led to him saying how incredible it was that I cook every day as if it's the most natural thing in the world.
I thought it was too much praise.
Besides, I feel like I'm not conscious enough of trying to make my own cooking delicious. I basically only care whether I find it delicious or not. And also, it's not like I'm aiming to be a chef or anything. So, I guess you could say I only care about my own taste.
"Since I came to this house, my cooking gets nothing but praise, so it's actually kinda confusing..."
He thanked me so sincerely that I ended up feeling embarrassed and looked away.
Asamura-kun really is good at giving compliments.
"Oh, by the way…"
I suddenly remembered today's sports festival and found a point to praise Yuuta Asamura on.
I praised him for his play in the basketball game, which landed us in the top four.
But, Asamura-kun is always modest when it comes to himself. He insisted that it was a do-or-die moment and that making the shot was just a fluke.
I wasn't talking about the outcome. It was his choice to take a shot in that desperate moment that was dazzling to me. I was so tense from the pressure that my limbs wouldn't move properly until Asamura-kun spoke to me.
"It's alright! You were the MVP in my eyes," I said firmly, and Asamura-kun's cheeks turned red in embarrassment.
"T-thanks."
His curt thanks sent a wave of amusement washing over me.
"You're blushing!"
"I'm just not used to compliments."
Ah, this is what I find charming about him, I thought as I watched Asamura-kun blush and scratch the back of his head.
Even after getting into bed, I kept picturing his face, and it warmed my heart each time.
That night, I had a dream.
For some reason, I was a child again, crying in the pitch-black darkness with my knees hugged to my chest.
Someone crouched beside me, took my hand, and pulled me away.
The darkness cleared, and instead of the ground, the floor of a gymnasium stretched out all the way to the horizon.
There was no ceiling, and I could see the blue sky above.
I gripped the hand of the person who'd led me there, and we walked side by side, endlessly.
The owner of the slightly embarrassed face that smiled back at me was a boy named Asamura Yuuta.