Kasahara never did tell me the outcome of that confession that night. I remember falling asleep with a heavy, restless feeling gnawing at my chest.
Why on earth had she told me she’d been asked out in the first place? And why had she hesitated to give me her answer? Even now, long after high school graduation, the answer eludes me.
But using that day as a turning point, I realized I needed to scrub away the indecisiveness that had been clouding my head lately. That isn’t to say I’d suddenly found the courage to confess; at the time, I was still so pathetic that I hadn't even fully realized my feelings for her.
The catalyst was the school festival.
Specifically, the post-festival party. Every year, it was tradition for the School Festival Executive Committee Chairman to serve as the MC for the event. The party featured a massive campfire where everyone danced wildly; the atmosphere was incredibly festive, fueled by that unique high that comes when a major event reaches its end.
I turned down the role of MC. That was largely due to my personality. If someone with a twisted disposition like mine were forced into such a major role, the mood of the entire place would have turned disastrous. My choice wasn't an act of cowardice—it was a strategic retreat.
Taking my place as the MC was Kasahara.
Under her lead, the students who stayed for the party enjoyed every second of that precious time.
As for me, I was just counting down the minutes until I could go home. There was no way someone like me could enjoy a scene where all the popular kids were making merry. The only reason I didn't leave was because of the responsibilities of my position.
I stood alone in the schoolyard, watching the revelers from a distance.
In the dead of night, everyone was laughing in front of the campfire that cast a steady orange glow over the center of the grounds.
That was when it happened.
"Kasahara-san!"
A single boy raised his voice.
The one he called out to was Kasahara. Suddenly, the festive crowd turned their gaze toward him and then toward Kasahara, who was still standing there as the MC. I’m sure everyone understood exactly what was about to happen. Whistles, jeers, shouts of encouragement, people pulling out their smartphones to record—a sweet, expectant tension filled the air.
"What is it?"
Kasahara was her usual self. She was a gentle girl, smiling just as she always did.
The crowd erupted even more when she responded to the boy's call.
And there I was, tucked away in a corner by myself, feeling like I was about to lose my mind.
The reason the boy stopped her.
What was about to happen between them.
And the expectations of everyone watching.
It wasn't fair.
I was fuming. With the expectations of the crowd and the weight of the situation, how could she possibly turn him down in a place like this?
...It was at that moment I had a thought.
If this was how it was going to go, I should have just confessed to Kasahara myself.
The thought surprised even me.
I’d been aware that I held special feelings for her that went beyond friendship, but I hadn't labeled it as love. I never thought the day would come when I would actually fall for someone.
"I'm sorry. There's someone I already like."
Kasahara rejected the boy’s confession with a strained, slightly awkward smile.
After being turned down, the boy held his head in frustration for a moment, but then he started laughing along with his friends.
How can he just laugh about it? I wondered at the time.
But I also felt a twinge of admiration for him.
The post-festival party. In front of the campfire. The perfect situation. Confessing to the person you love right there, and even if you get rejected, being able to laugh it off with your friends without any lingering bitterness.
I respected that nameless guy, and in the same breath, I felt a deep regret for my own wretched state.
I felt the very thing I hated most: regret.
When the party finally ended, the students began to filter out and head home.
The School Festival Executive Committee members were required to stay behind to check the fire and finalize a few details before leaving.
"Kasahara, do you want to walk home together today?"
The words flowed out with surprising ease. I wasn't even nervous.
"Yeah. Sure."
Kasahara accepted my offer.
We waited until the rest of the committee members had headed home.
"...This is a bit unexpected," Kasahara said, as the two of us stood alone in the darkness of the schoolyard.
"What is?"
"The fact that Yamamoto-kun actually asked me to walk home with him."
"...I suppose so."
I gave a strained laugh. Until now, I had always been passive. I walked home with her because she asked. I carried bitter feelings inside just because I heard she’d been confessed to.
That was all I ever did.
"My bad. You probably wanted to go back with Hayashi and the others."
"No. They probably left ages ago. Honestly, everyone’s so heartless."
"...Yeah."
I wasn't nervous.
But I wondered what I should say next.
I gave non-committal replies while I racked my brain.
...Then, it hit me.
There was no need to dress things up. It was fine to just be my usual self. I had nothing left to lose. I should just say what I wanted to say—my usual self was enough.
"Kasahara, I like you."
My voice rang out clearly in the schoolyard that had been so noisy just minutes before.
And yet, Kasahara didn't give me an answer. There was no way she hadn't heard me.
That meant I'd failed.
Well, that was that. The feeling wasn't mutual. That was the end of the story.
...Strangely, I felt refreshed. Even if I was rejected, I had no regrets.
"Me too."
In the absolute silence of the schoolyard, I felt like my hearing had momentarily failed me. I couldn't process the words she’d said. No, that's wrong. I heard them perfectly. I just couldn't comprehend them.
"Huh?"
"I like you too, Yamamoto-kun."
"...Is that so?"
"Yeah."
"............Is that so?"
My body felt numb. Even though I’d just found out my feelings were returned, my senses were dulling more and more. It didn't feel real. To think that Kasahara and I actually liked each other.
"Shall we go?"
"...Yeah."
Even though the feelings were mutual, the air between us was completely different than before. We had grown so close that the awkwardness had vanished long ago, but now, it was beyond awkward—it was stiff and stilted.
"Hey, Yamamoto-kun?"
"Yeah?"
"...Does this mean we're boyfriend and girlfriend now?"
"...Yeah."
I suppose that's how it worked. Since we both liked each other.
"I see."
"...Yeah."
"I see, I see."
"...I-I wonder what couples actually do?"
"I have no idea."
After a long silence, we shared a strained laugh.