Chapter 7: Naturally, the Stars Tell Me Nothing

"So, what do you all want to do?"

After I explained the situation regarding Rumi-san’s isolation, Hiratsuka-sensei asked us quietly. Silence fell over the high schoolers gathered at the nighttime campsite. The rustling of the wind through the leaves sounded unnaturally loud.

It wasn't a question with an easy answer. Even Yuigahama-san, usually so bright and cheerful, remained silent, lost in thought.

It was Hayama-kun who finally broke the heavy silence, his expression grim.

"I... if possible, I’d like to do something for her, within the scope of what we can manage."

Those vague, fuzzy words pierced something deep inside me.

"It’s impossible for you. You know that, don't you?"

Memories of elementary school flooded back. My own ostracization. Hayama-kun, trying to play the hero and save me. The distorted world that refused to allow it.

Before I knew it, I was glaring at him. He awkwardly averted his eyes. ...Ah, this won't do. Such emotions are uncharacteristic of the "perfect Yukinoshita Yukino."

I took a single deep breath. With that, I donned the mask of Yukinoshita Yukino once more.

"I will save her, by any means necessary."

I spoke her ideals with dignity. Because that is what she would say. But it wasn't just that. Seeing Rumi-san lament her solitude and vomit out her despair for the future felt like anything but a stranger's problem. Perhaps saving her was my way of saving my past self.

"Does anyone have an objection to Yukinoshita’s conclusion?"

At Hiratsuka-sensei’s quiet prompt, no one opened their mouth.

"I see. ...Then, I’m going to sleep. Do as you wish with the rest."

The moment Hiratsuka-sensei left, the discussion among the students began. Various ideas were tossed around. Suggestions to find her a hobby to make friends, or to simply look for new ones.

While the diverse opinions provided some reference, a solution felt miles away. Amidst it all, Hayama-kun spoke up.

"In the end, if everyone can't just get along, it won't be a fundamental solution."

"...Have you already forgotten what I just said? It was impossible for you then."

"But it might not be impossible now."

"Judging by your behavior today, it is impossible for you. You haven't grown in the slightest."

The words leaving my mouth were sharper and harsher than necessary. Unable to stand by and watch, Miura-san spoke up to shield Hayama-kun.

"Hold on! I’ve been listening, but what is your problem? Why do you have to talk to Hayato like that?"

"This has nothing to do with you, does it?"

“It does! I mean, what’s with that attitude when we’re all trying to have a good time? It’s because you’re always looking down on everyone that you get snubbed—just like a certain someone else, right?”

“The idea that I am ‘looking down’ on you is merely your own persecution complex. Is it not because you are conscious of your own inferiority that you feel that way?”

"Why you...! You’re always saying stuff like—"

"Yumiko. Stop."

"Hayato... Hmph!"

The heated argument came to an abrupt end. Hayama-kun’s low voice possessed a rare, commanding gravity that brooked no argument.

Hearing that tone, Miura-san fell silent. A heavy quiet settled over the campsite. Since the atmosphere was no longer conducive to a discussion, the group disbanded. The meeting was postponed until the following day.

The mountains at night have no lights. Unlike the urban darkness, which is always punctuated by streetlamps, this was a pitch black where one could truly not see an inch ahead. Only the stars twinkling in the night sky managed to provide a faint glow.

Now, there was a reason I was out here alone at night, staring at the stars.

It happened after we returned to the girls' room. Miura-san, whose frustrations had apparently reached a breaking point, finally snapped at me.

Since I couldn't exactly remain silent as Yukinoshita Yukino, I pushed back. The argument escalated until, eventually, Miura-san burst into tears. And so, feeling awkward, I left the room. Seeing her crying face had left me with a significant weight of guilt.

Well, I had intended to leave the room regardless. I remembered this nightly event, albeit vaguely. The encounter between Yukinoshita Yukino and Hikigaya Hachiman under the starlit sky. This was where she was supposed to tell him her feelings.

"But, those kinds of feelings don't exist within me."

I am merely an empty shell that happened to be born into this body. I, who boasted of saving Tsurumi Rumi out of a sense of duty to be Yukinoshita Yukino and a sliver of sentimentality—what could I possibly have to say to him?

Clouded by muddled thoughts, I looked up at the sky aimlessly. The brilliant stars granted me no answers.

Suddenly, a rustle came from the bushes behind me. I turned to find Hikigaya-kun standing there. So, he finally arrived.

"Did you come out to look at the stars?"

“No, I just found it a bit difficult to stay in my room.”

In the forest, far from the city's hustle and bustle, only our two voices echoed through the stillness. I cut off the thought that this felt like a secret tryst between lovers and began to weave my words.

“Miura-san picked a fight with me. After I spent over thirty minutes completely refuting her logic, she started crying... Yuigahama-san is comforting her now.”

When I told him the truth, Hikigaya-kun looked slightly taken aback.

Since he didn't follow up, I looked back at the stars. Stealing a glance, I saw him looking up at the sky as well. We were looking at the same scenery right now. Thinking that made this tedious night feel not so bad.

"...Hey, did something happen with Hayama?"

In the silent woods, Hikigaya-kun’s voice suddenly resonated. It was a slightly prying question, unlike his usual self. Keeping my eyes on the stars, I answered.

"We went to the same elementary school. And our parents are acquaintances."

“Ah, the whole 'family friends' thing, then.”

"Yes."

Because my replies were brief, Hikigaya-kun naturally fell silent too. Stillness descended again. From afar, I could hear the chirping of crickets. Fiddling aimlessly with my hair, I was the one to speak this time.

"Tell me, Hikigaya-kun, have you thought of a way to save Rumi-san?"

"Sort of. I’m not entirely sure yet."

There was a hint of conflict in his voice. I traced my memories of the story, trying to read his thoughts.

After this, he would attempt to resolve the problem by uprooting and destroying the social relationships around Rumi-san. It was a method far removed from a true "solution"—a cynical, roundabout approach. It was very "him," in a way.

But Hikigaya-kun would come to regret it later. He would agonize over whether the method he used to save Tsurumi Rumi was wrong.

That regret, that conflict, was surely a necessary step in his growth as a boy. That is why I cannot interfere unnecessarily.

"Hey, Hikigaya-kun."

"What?"

"Even if your choice turns out to be a mistake, please don't blame yourself too much."

This was the most I could say. In truth, there was probably more I could do. I could take the lead and propose a solution, or offer a different plan; it wouldn't be impossible. But I told myself it was for the sake of his growth, and so I did nothing.

"...What's with you all of a sudden? You're being so nice I thought you were someone else."

"I am not 'nice' at all."

That’s right. I'm not kind. I’m an unpleasant woman who watches you suffer from the perspective of a mere observer.

"There’s a saying, 'Charity is a good investment,' isn't there?"

"Yeah, the one where if you show someone kindness, it eventually comes back to you?"

"Precisely. So, if I am being kind to you, it is for my own sake. Therefore, Hikigaya-kun, I will say one more thing for my sake."

I spoke the words so that I wouldn't have to be hurt by the sight of him hurting.

"What is it?"

"Even if the people you involve get hurt, don't be so conceited as to think it’s all your fault."

"...What's that supposed to mean? I'm not that virtuous of a person."

"I wonder. ...I should head back soon."

"Yeah."

I began walking toward the girls' room. Before I did, I turned back toward Hikigaya-kun one last time.

"Goodbye."

I hesitated to wave; my right hand rose weakly, then I lowered it, unsure. It was dark, so he probably didn't see it anyway.