Hayashi stared me down, her eyes practically screaming the command.
Answer me.
Answer me.
...Answer.
Unable to withstand the weight of her gaze, I finally let out a heavy sigh.
"Ishida hated my guts," I confessed, finally folding.
The moment the words left my mouth, Hayashi let out a long, knowing groan. The fact that she was so instantly convinced proved she was actually a pretty terrible person. What made it even worse was that she clearly had no idea how insensitive she was being.
"Don't you think you have an unusually high number of enemies?" she asked callously.
If I were anyone else, I’d be offended.
"Well, there was that whole mess with the school festival."
"I doubt the school festival was enough to make her hate you that much, though."
I fell silent. She had a point.
"A lot of things happened."
"...I see."
Hayashi looked down, a flicker of sadness crossing her face.
Sitting there in her glasses, hunched over with her legs tucked to one side, she looked nothing like the girl everyone had called "The Queen" back in high school.
"But why did even I-chan hate you? I-chan was just as kind as Akari, and she was brilliant. She never seemed like the type of person who could actually hate someone, you know?"
It was true that Ishida was beautiful, both in appearance and in character.
She and I had been in the same class during our first and third years. In our first year, she had been close with Hayashi. By our third year, she was usually seen hanging out with both Hayashi and Kasahara.
I still had a vivid memory of Ishida looking after Hayashi alongside Kasahara. The mere fact that she could handle being Hayashi’s caretaker back then was proof enough of her saintly patience... It was the go-to anecdote whenever anyone talked about how kind she was.
"If anything, her intelligence was exactly why she hated me."
However, the reality of why Ishida hated me went far beyond Hayashi’s logic.
"I never once surrendered first place in the grade during all three years of high school."
"Oh, right. You were that guy."
"Yeah. I would’ve loved to satisfy my ego by bragging about it, but I didn't have any real friends back then. Far from getting any recognition, the fact that I was even top of the class barely registered with anyone around me."
"You actually have a pretty petty way of thinking, don't you?"
"Anyway, I held onto that top spot the whole time, but there was one person who constantly looked at me with envy and hostility."
"And that was I-chan?"
I nodded.
"After every exam, Ishida would hunt me down in some secluded spot and corner me for about a week. She’d say things like, 'Go easy on me for once,' or 'I won't lose next time,' or 'How are your grades so high? You have to let me study with you in your room—just the two of us, okay? Only us.' She was always coming at me like that... clearly trying to sabotage me or throw me off my game."
"...What?" Hayashi stammered.
"What's wrong, Hayashi?"
"Wait... sorry. I... what?"
"What is it all of a sudden? Do you feel sick?"
"Wait... hang on. Just let me wrap my head around this for a second."
"Huh? Sure."
"You were always first place in the grade."
"Yeah."
"And I-chan?"
"If I remember right, she told me she was always second."
"I see... Did you two ever talk outside of post-exam periods?"
"Eh? Well, occasionally. Sometimes I’d feel her staring at me, so I’d call out to her."
"And how did I-chan react then?"
"She must’ve had a chronic fever or something. Her face would always turn bright red before she’d bolt away from me."
"...Are you serious?"
"What?"
"...And so, every time a test ended, she begged you to let her study with you?"
"Yeah."
"And did you ever actually say yes?"
"Do you really think I would? You know me. I’m not the type to fall for that."
"...And you two kept having this conversation the whole time?"
"No, not the whole time. It stopped around the Third Year Second Semester Final Exam. She probably realized she could never beat me, because she stopped bothering me after that."
I wondered what on earth had gotten into the girl beside me.
Hayashi snapped the graduation album shut and flopped onto the bed. Then, she pulled the duvet over her head and began muttering something that sounded like a funeral mantra.
Suddenly, her smartphone began to vibrate.
"Hey, your phone’s ringing."
"...Answer it."
Usually, Hayashi was surprisingly responsible, but every now and then she’d revert to this state where she acted like a spoiled, clingy child.
I assumed it was a psychological reaction to the six months of domestic violence she’d endured from her ex-boyfriend, so I made it a point to indulge her whenever she got like this. Besides, she’d never really asked for anything unreasonable... except for that one time at the hotel.
"Here."
Hayashi took the phone from me, though she still seemed a bit dazed.
"Hello? Oh, Mom... Yeah. Uh-huh. Okay, send it over."
It seemed the caller was Hayashi's mother.
I had worried it might be an update on her father's condition, but that didn't seem to be the case. I felt a small wave of relief.
"How's Dad? ...Oh, I see. Yeah. Huh? ...I-It’s not like I was worried or anything."
Liar.
"Yeah. What? ...S-Shut up. You're so annoying, seriously. ...Ugh. Are we done? I'm hanging up. I'm hanging up now. Bye."
She ended the call rather abruptly.
I wondered what her mother could have possibly said. At the very least, I was fairly certain it didn't involve me.
As soon as she hung up, Hayashi crawled out from under the duvet.
"Hey, Yamamoto."
"Yeah?"
She looked uncharacteristically grave.
Based on the call, I’d assumed her father was fine, but a sudden sense of dread washed over me.
"I-chan... she’s married."
"Eh?"
A strangled, confused sound escaped my throat.