Oneshot End

"You had an AI write this, didn't you?"

On the rooftop after school, Kotoha looked up from the letter.

I thought she'd be silent for a while after reading it.

I thought she would either look troubled, or laugh shyly. There was also the possibility she would say she needed some time to think about her reply.

I had imagined all sorts of possibilities for three days, but that one phrase wasn't on my list.

"...How did you know?"

"You're admitting it now."

"N-Not everything. I just consulted with it."

"From what to what?"

"I had it draft the sentences, revise the wording, and adjust it so it wouldn't sound too heavy."

"So, what did Ai do?"

"I wrote it on the letter."

Kotoha looked at the letter.

Then she looked at me.

"It only took two hours, you know?"

"Don't act all smug when you only do that much."

The wind blew, and the edge of the the letter swayed.

There, neatly written, were the sentences I couldn't even write in three days.

—The time I spend with you is irreplaceable to me.

—I would be happy if we could continue to be special to each other.

There's nothing strange about it.

It's not too heavy, nor too light. It's considerate so as not to trouble the other person, yet the affection comes across clearly.

That's why I was able to give it to her.

If I had written it alone, I'd probably still be sitting at my desk, staring at the first line of the letter.

"Was it no good?"

"I didn't say it was no good."

"Then, what's your answer?"

"Wait a minute. I'm still trying to process the situation."

Kotoha lowered her gaze to the letter once more.

Just a moment ago, she was questioning me without hesitation, but suddenly she started touching her bangs.

Looking closely, I noticed her ears were slightly red.

"Are you nervous too, Kotoha?"

"No."

"Your ears are red."

"It's the sun effect."

"It's cloudy today, though."

"Shut up!"

She covered her mouth with the letter.

I felt a little relieved.

It seems I'm not the only one who's nervous.

"But, there's still thing I can't understand just from this letter."

Kotoha said.

"What is it?"

"The reason Ai likes me."

"It's written there, isn't it? That you're 'Irreplaceable—'"

"Would the usual Ai say that?"

"Maybe?"

"The girl who answered, 'I think this protagonist is having a really hard time,' during the Japanese language presentation yesterday?"

"That was because I was called on suddenly."

"The teacher was calling on us in order."

"There was a possibility that she might have skipped me back there."

"Nope, there's just no way."

Kotoha laughed, but quickly returned her eyes to the letter.

"This letter is too beautiful."

Her voice was softer than before.

"Even as I read it, I couldn't picture Ai's face."

It felt like a fine needle had pricked the depths of my heart.

I knew it myself.

When I reread the finished letter, I thought it was beautiful. But I wasn't happy.

"I was afraid that if I wrote something strange, you might hate me."

Kotoha looked up.

"You might think it's too much. You might be troubled if a girl gave you a letter like that."

"I am INDEED troubled."

"See?"

"No, that's not it."

Kotoha started to deny it, then fell silent.

She let her eyes wander, searching for something.

"How should I put it?"

"The person who's telling me to be honest is having trouble finding the words."

"You're saying that now?"

"I'm a little happy."

"You have a bad personality."

Kotoha sighed.

"It's not that I'm troubled because I dislike it. To be honest, I'm happy. But I'm troubled because I don't know how much of this is true."

"It's all true."

"Then just say it."

"Say what?"

"The thing you wrote before putting it into the AI. Even bullet points are fine."

"Are there people who confess using bullet points?"

"Maybe there is."

Kotoha looked at me.

She is waiting.

It looked like she was teasing me, but there was a strange tension in the fingers holding the letter.

"You won't laugh?"

"Probably not."

"Probably?"

"If I laughed after saying 'definitely,' you'd get angry later, right?"

"I would get angry."

"So that's it. Probably."

There was no escape route left.

She already knows that I like her anyway.

I'd probably regret it more if I just left without saying anything.

"I don't like it when Kotoha talks to other girls."

"How much?"

"Quite a lot."

"You're heavy from the start."

"That's why I had the AI ​​fix it."

"I see."

Kotoha smiled, then looked at my face and her lips returned to their original position.

"Sorry. Continue."

"When you laugh at something I don't know about, I feel left out. When you're slow to reply to my messages, I reread them over and over, wondering if I sent something weird."

"Yeah."

"I even knew the day you cut your hair."

"It's only three centimeters."

"But I knew it anyway."

"That... made me a little happy."

"And I also remember you picking up my eraser in May of our first year."

"Scary."

"I'm going home!"

"Wait! I said that reflexively."

"It hurts more when you get scared of me reflexively."

As I was about to head towards the rooftop door, she grabbed the sleeve of my uniform.

It wasn't a strong pull.

It was just enough force that I could stop if I wanted to.

"I'm glad you remembered."

"Really?"

"Really. I don't remember when I did it, though."

"That's what I mean."

"What do you mean?"

"It's annoying how I seem to be the only one who's troubled because I like you."

After I said it, I regretted it.

It was way too much.

Maybe I should have just left it to the AI.

Kotoha didn't answer immediately.

She let go of my sleeve and instead touched the back of my hand with her fingertips.

Her movements seemed uncertain, as if she wasn't sure what she was doing.

Eventually, our little fingers intertwined.

"I get worried too when Ai goes home with other girls."

"Huh?"

"But I thought you'd think I was being annoying if I said something like that."

"I won't!"

"You answered so quickly."

"Anything is fine as long as it's Kotoha."

"That makes me worried too."

Even though only our little fingers were connected, my entire palm was growing hot.

Kotoha seemed restless too, and averted her gaze beyond the fence.

"Is there more you want to say?"

"There is, but I can't think straight when you're holding my hand."

"So this counts as holding hands?"

"To me, it's definitely holding hands."

"Then, just a little bit more."

What started as just our little fingers turned into our entire hands.

Our fingers didn't quite fit together, and we separated once.

"S-Sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?"

"Because I'm not used to it."

"Me neither."

The second time, our hands intertwined more slowly than before.

Kotoha's hands were colder than I expected.

"Can you talk now?"

"It's even harder."

"So, should I let go?"

"Don't wanna!"

"So troublesome."

Kotoha chuckled softly.

I couldn't help but laugh too.

This was supposed to be a confession, but I'd been saying nothing but embarrassing things.

"I'm happy when Kotoha smiles."

When I said that, her laughter stopped.

"When you're down, I want to do something. But I don't know what to say, so in the end, all I can do is be by your side."

"That's fine."

"On the days we meet, I remember what we talked about even after I get home. On the days we walk home together, the walk from the station to my house feels shorter."

"Yeah."

"And then..."

If this were a letter, a clever sentence would follow here.

But nothing came to my mind.

No beautiful metaphors, no memorable words, came to mind.

So I just said what was left in my mind.

"I like Kotoha."

My voice cracked slightly.

Kotoha's fingers moved, and she gripped my hand again.

"Not as a friend, but probably in a romantic sense."

"Probably?"

"Because it's the first time I've liked a girl."

"It's my first time too."

"Having been confessed to by a girl?"

"That too."

Kotoha lowered her eyes.

I waited a few seconds, but there was no further response.

"What is your answer?"

"You know already, don't you?"

"I don't know. If I'm mistaken, I won't be able to recover for the next three years."

"You'll be haunted by it even after graduation."

"So tell me properly."

"No."

"You made me say it, though."

"I'm incredibly embarrassed right now."

"I was embarrassed too."

"I know. Your face was awful."

"Like what?"

"Like you were about to be taken to the nurse's office."

"And you made someone like that talk even more?"

Kotoha laughed, then pursed her lips.

She tightened her grip on my hand, as if making a decision.

"I like Ai too."

The voices from the schoolyard that had been audible just moments ago suddenly faded away.

Kotoha was looking to the side.

Not just her ears, but her neck was red.

"Say that again."

"I won't."

"Maybe I misheard."

"But you heard me, didn't you?"

"I should have recorded it."

"I don't want that."

For a while, neither of us spoke.

I thought that if we became a couple, something would change more clearly.

In reality, we were both holding hands and staring at the same scratch on the floor.

"Give me back the letter."

Unable to bear the silence any longer, I said, and Kotoha pulled the envelope to her chest.

"Nope. I'll keep this."

"But it's not good, isn't it?"

"I like something little bit in it."

"Which part?"

"The way you tried so hard to write it beautifully is so lovely."

Kotoha started to put the envelope in her pocket, then stopped.

"But I want another one."

"You want me to write another one?"

"Write what you just said."

"It'll definitely be terrible writing."

"That's fine."

"My handwriting will be messy, and I might lose track of what I'm writing halfway through."

"I'll read that too."

"What about typos?"

"I'll circle each one."

"You'll grade it?"

"It's a sign of praise."

"You're lying."

Kotoha finally laughed in her usual manner.

"If I get the second one, I'll write a reply."

"I already heard your reply."

"You want a reply letter too, don't you?"

"Yes!"

"That was a quick answer."

☆

The next day, I gave her the second letter.

I made a mistake with a kanji character in the very first line.

I became embarrassed while writing about what I liked about Kotoha, and blacked out about three lines. I didn't know how to end it.

—I want to be with you a lot more in the future.

That's all it said.

Kotoha read it for longer than the first time.

She laughed midway through, then quickly said "Sorry," and started reading it again from the beginning.

Eventually, she drew a small circle next to the incorrect kanji.

Below that, Kotoha's handwriting continued.

—I, too, want to be with you a lot.

There were signs of hesitation further on,

—And I also want a clean copy.

When I looked up, Kotoha was pointing to her cheek.

"This time, it doesn't have to be here."

It took me three seconds to understand what she meant.

"Ar-Are we really going to do it?"

"Don't you want to?"

"It's not that I don't want to, but I'm not mentally prepared."

"Yesterday, you made me say everything."

"But you asked me on your own, Kotoha."

"So, should I do it on my own again this time?"

One step closer.

I instinctively closed my eyes, and Kotoha burst out laughing.

"Ai, you're clenching your lips too tightly."

"Well, it's my first time, so I can't help it."

"It's my first time too."

"Then don't laugh."

"Sorry."

This apology seemed sincere.

When I opened my eyes, Kotoha's face was tense as well.

We stared at each other, and slowly moved closer without either of us initiating it.

Our lips met for only a moment.

After we pulled away, Kotoha looked down, and I stared at the blacked-out part of the letter.

I felt like I had to say something.

However, I hadn't even asked an AI what the right answer was in this situation.

"...How was it?"

Kotoha was the first to speak.

"You want my opinion?"

"For future improvement."

"Don't say things like an AI."

Kotoha laughed.

I laughed too.

At that moment, our foreheads bumped together, as the distance between our lips return to zero.