A little past noon the following day.
My phone buzzed.
"You got a notification."
"Mm."
I acknowledged Yamamoto's voice while I stayed focused on the dishes.
The moment he finished lunch, Yamamoto had immediately launched into a cleaning spree. Before we’d even eaten, I had seen him run a finger along the top of the television and pull a sour face. That was almost certainly the catalyst.
To my eyes, the dust supposedly gathered there was practically invisible. It was only because his obsessive "Yamamoto Eye" had flagged it for inspection that it had been deemed a problem at all.
Once I finished the dishes, I dried my hands and returned to the living room.
"Exactly how much are you planning to clean?"
"I’m striking at the root of the dust. It’s the most efficient, most certain way."
I let out a weary sigh at his pathological fastidiousness and picked up my phone.
The message was from Akari.
[I got Maeda-kun's contact info.]
Attached to the message was Maeda’s phone number and ID.
Now that I thought about it, I wondered if Akari had actually gotten his permission to pass his details along.
[Did you get permission from Maeda?]
[I went through a friend.]
[That’s a relief.]
[He replied instantly, so he’s probably got an ulterior motive.]
Akari sent a smiling face sticker, but the comment made my heart feel a little heavy.
[I see. Regardless, I’ll reach out and see if he can meet tomorrow.]
[Yeah. Good luck.]
I was a bit taken aback by her response.
I had selfishly assumed Akari would come with me. Her words of encouragement felt a bit like she was distancing herself, leaving me more than a little flustered.
...Oh man, what should I do?
This whole investigation concerned that cleanliness-obsessed idiot, so I definitely couldn't ask him to come along.
"Whoo-hoo! Sucking up dust with a vacuum is the best!"
...And he was back to making those weird noises.
Knowing Akari wasn't coming made me feel a surge of anxiety—no, it was closer to fear.
Could I really hold my own in a conversation with someone who had an ulterior motive?
Well, I probably could.
Back in high school, I’d been strong-willed enough to be dubbed "The Queen." Maeda likely remembered the me from back then; one good glare would probably be enough to make him back down.
I messaged Maeda immediately.
It was the middle of Silver Week, so perhaps he was just bored, but his reply came back almost instantly. After a flurry of texts, I successfully managed to secure a meeting for the following day.
"Yamamoto."
"Hm?"
"I'm going out for a bit tomorrow."
"I see. Where to?"
...I realized then that because I had dragged Yamamoto along almost every time I went out lately, he had simply assumed he was supposed to come with me this time too.
What should I do?
If I told him I was meeting Maeda, would he insist on coming?
I could already hear him asking, "Wait, who's that?"
...Does he even remember the faces of our high school classmates?
"Hayashi?"
...Wh-What do I say?
Obviously, I couldn't tell him the real reason I was going. But did I really want to tell him I was meeting another man without explaining why? No, that was definitely out of the question.
"I..."
As I struggled to find the words, Yamamoto tilted his head.
"Hello Work?"
"...Oh. Yeah."
I felt like I’d managed to land on a reasonably plausible lie for once.
"I see. Good luck."
Yamamoto gave me a nod of encouragement. Why did a simple act of consideration from the person I loved make my heart feel so warm?
But the warmth was quickly followed by a wave of guilt. I had just lied to him, and it left me feeling miserable.
The next day.
"Dinner is in the fridge. Don't stay in the bath too long. When you do the laundry, use the leftover bath water. And the cleaning is limited to one hour a day!"
"What are you, my mom?"
After lunch, I hurried out of the house.
The meeting point was a chain coffee shop near Shinjuku Station. My plan was simple: get the information I needed as quickly as possible and head straight home.
"Hey! Hayashi!"
I had arrived five minutes early. As soon as I stepped into the cafe, a loud voice rang out.
A man was waving at me with a look of pure excitement. It was Maeda.
I felt a flash of exasperation. Shouting in a coffee shop without any regard for the people around him—he really had no manners. Then again, I used to do similar things in high school, so I didn't feel I had the right to call him out on it.
"Long time no see."
"Yeah. Long time."
The greeting was brief. My relationship with him back then was so non-existent that even a short greeting felt like more effort than it was worth.
"Let's get something to drink first. I was sweating like crazy on the way here. I need something cold."
"Sure. Let's."
"Oh, you stay seated, Hayashi. What do you want?"
"...It's fine. I'll go with you."
"Don't worry about it. A girl should let a guy treat her."
...Ugh.
No, I couldn't stand this.
That kind of condescending, "I’m in charge" attitude made my skin crawl. It was probably because he reminded me so much of my ex.
"I said it’s fine. Let's go."
"Oh... uh, okay."
Faced with my stubbornness, his earlier bravado flickered out. Maeda followed behind me, looking slightly cowed.
I noticed he had dyed his hair brown and was dressed in a rather flashy, "playboy" style.
"What about soccer?" I asked.
"Hm? Oh, I quit. The practice was brutal, and my parents basically forced me into it anyway. There wasn't a single good thing about it."
"...Don't do things that make your parents sad."
Maeda fell silent again.
"Well, I’m not really one to talk," I added.
If anything, my rebellious phase had been far worse than his.
"Sorry. Forget I said anything."
"...Okay."
The swagger he’d had when we first met up was completely gone.
We ordered our coffees and returned to the table. As I watched Maeda pour in his gum syrup and milk, I decided it was time to get to the point.
"Hey, weren't you on the school festival executive committee during our first year?"
"Eh? Oh, yeah, I was."
"Actually, there's something about that festival that’s been on my mind. That's why I wanted to meet with you."
"...Oh, really?"
"Yeah. I'll be blunt—was there any kind of trouble within the committee back then?"
"...Trouble? Let me think."
Maeda crossed his arms and stared at the ceiling.
At the very least, the cancellation of the Post-Festival Party had been massive news. Yet, Maeda didn't seem to recall any such drama.
"Specifically, I want to know about the Post-Festival Party."
"The Post-Festival Party?"
"Yeah. It was canceled that year, remember?"
"Oh, yeah. Come to think of it."
...He was an executive committee member, a direct participant, so why was he acting like it was none of his business? What on earth was he actually doing back then?
I felt a surge of irritation, but I reminded myself I didn't have the right to criticize him. I worked hard to suppress my temper.
"That was that Yamamoto guy's fault, wasn't it? The reason it got canceled."
"...Was it?"
"Yeah. I mean, even you must have heard the rumors. It happened because he forgot to order the firewood."
"You were on the committee and you're only talking about 'rumors'? Don't you know the actual truth?"
Maeda went quiet. Maybe he realized how bad that sounded.
"Well, I just figured it was exactly the kind of thing he'd do. I mean, whenever he deigned to show up for committee work, he was always talking down to the seniors like he owned the place."
I could easily imagine Yamamoto clashing with upperclassmen.
"Whenever he showed up?" I repeated.
There was something in Maeda's phrasing that bothered me.
"Eh? ...Well, I mean, I didn't go every single day either. I was busy with my club and all that."
"Club activities were prohibited during the festival preparation period, weren't they?"
"...P-Plenty of other people were doing the same thing!"
In other words: "It wasn't my fault."
"A-Anyway! While everyone else was having a good time together, he’d suddenly show up and start acting all high and mighty with the seniors, totally ruining the mood! That’s why everyone believed it. When the rumor started that he forgot to order the wood, people figured he did it on purpose to get back at them because things weren't going his way."
"...I see."
I understood his logic perfectly.
"I'm going home now."
"What?"
"Thanks for today. This was very enlightening."
"Wait... hey! Hold on!"
Ignoring Maeda’s voice, I walked out of the coffee shop.
Now, I just had to go home. That was it.
...Inside, my thoughts were a chaotic mess.
The main problem was that I still didn't know what Yamamoto’s intentions were at the time, so I couldn't make sense of anything.
But there was one thing I was certain of.
Maeda claimed that Yamamoto had sabotaged the wood order out of spite... but that wasn't the Yamamoto I knew.
I wished Maeda would listen to his own words and think for a second.
Maeda absolutely refused to take any responsibility for his own actions.
And yet, back then, Yamamoto had stood there, admitted the fault was his, and apologized.
...If he had truly done it out of spite, why would he bother apologizing to everyone over and over?
Normally, a person wouldn't do that.
A normal kid would have thrown a tantrum and shifted the blame to someone else, exactly the way Maeda was doing now.
...That’s how I knew.
Yamamoto would never do something like that.
That much, I was absolutely sure of.