The Beautiful Girl With a Kind Personality and Good Looks, Who Happens to Be My Childhood Friend, Seems to Have Eyes Only for Me
“….”
The morning light streaming through the curtain’s gap filtered through my closed eyelids, and I slowly woke up.
Reflexively, I reached out my hand to my arm, waist, and leg, lightly rubbing them as if to confirm.
“…A dream, huh?”
I muttered that, then immediately shook my head.
“…No. I remember.”
The scene I saw in the dream felt strangely vivid.
The accident where I was hit by a car.
How that meant I couldn’t keep playing basketball.
The girl in the hospital whose face I couldn’t recognize.
Closing my eyes, those memories connected on their own.
Even emotions I thought I’d forgotten slowly came back.
…Strange. Nearly seven years have passed.
Even though it was my own past, I’d kept it at arm’s length, thinking of it as if it belonged to someone else. Now, it settled comfortably in my chest, as if it had happened just recently.
That’s precisely why—
When I remember the parent and child who were in the car that caused that accident, a dark emotion wells up deep within my chest.
Hatred.
Anger.
And yet, strangely, it doesn’t run wild.
“…Gotta eat.”
I got out of bed and quickly tidied myself up.
Drawn by the sounds of daily life coming from downstairs, I headed toward the living room.
It seemed breakfast had just been laid out. Mom peeked out from the kitchen and smiled softly.
“Good morning, Yuma.”
“Good morning, Mom.”
Asahina Miyo.
Looking at her now, she really didn’t seem like a mother at all, so youthful.
Not flashy, but full of vitality… She’d never changed.
We sat across from each other and ate breakfast.
The steam rising from the miso soup naturally calmed my mood.
“You really eat with such relish.”
“Well, it actually is delicious.”
“Hehe, thank you.”
Before I started rehab in my third year of junior high, our conversations were always awkward.
Now, talking like this feels completely natural.
As I blew on my miso soup to cool it before taking a sip, Mom suddenly stopped her chopsticks.
“…I’m really glad you’re feeling better.”
“Huh?”
I looked up to find Mom staring intently at me.
Her eyes were endlessly gentle—and just a little embarrassing.
“You were so down after quitting basketball. You were clearly pushing yourself too hard. It was pretty obvious, you know?”
“…Was it that obvious?”
“Yes. Very.”
Her answer was immediate.
“You put on a brave face in front of me, though. But I could tell. I’m your mom.”
Her words made my chest tighten just a little.
“But you know…”
Mom gave a sly smile.
“Ever since you started hanging out with Haru-chan and Yamato-kun, you’ve changed noticeably.”
“…Huh?”
“You’ve got some great friends.”
Saying that, Mom softened her expression just a little.
“But after that accident, when Haru-chan came to our house, you really changed. You started smiling properly again, more than before, and the strength came back to your voice.”
“…I guess so.”
“Yes. I’m especially grateful to Haru-chan.”
Putting down her chopsticks, Mom looked straight at me.
“Rehab, right? she has been accompanying you every week since middle school, right? That’s no easy thing. It takes time and energy, and it’s mentally draining too.”
“…Well…”
Unable to deny it, I gave an ambiguous reply.
“So? Even basketball-obsessed Yuma likes Haru-chan, right?”
She grinned, her expression pure teasing.
“…Huh!?”
I stumbled over my words without meaning to.
Emotions like embarrassment and the urge to deny it all surged up at once, leaving me speechless.
How does Haru feel about me?
How do I feel about Haru?
The more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t decide if I should put my feelings into words, and no words came out. Even though I’d been suppressing my feelings since that incident. But since the start of this year, Haru’s been acting so unusually close, it’s driving me crazy.
Seeing me like that, Mom waved her hands frantically.
“If you’re going to get that worked up over it, I won’t ask! Come on, don’t push yourself!”
“O-okay…”
Her voice abruptly cut off my thoughts. Honestly, if she hadn’t called me, I think I would’ve kept endlessly dwelling on the same thing. Thinking that, I felt a little relieved.
Shifting my focus, I slurped my miso soup again.
――Ah, delicious.
Mornings really are best with this.
“Thanks for the meal.”
“You’re welcome.”
As I carried the dishes to the sink and started to leave the living room, a voice called out over my shoulder.
“Keep an eye on Haru-chan, okay?”
Turning around, I saw Mom looking serious.
“She’s a strong girl, but sometimes… she seems like she’s pushing herself too hard.”
“…Got it.”
I intended to anyway. And just as I started washing the dishes, Mom murmured something that made me want to ask her to repeat it.
“Hey, Yuma. Haru-chan… you should marry her, you know~”
“Buh… Guh! No, no, no! Haru has Yamato!”
“Oh? Well, I think Haru-chan likes you, though.”
“…!”
“I honestly can’t say about Yamato-kun. But you know—I just can’t stand Yamato-kun’s mother. The way she talks, her attitude? There’s a lot, you know.”
“…You didn’t have to say it like that.”
“Well, what can you do? Even when we haven’t done anything, I feel like she dislikes us anyway.
If anyone tries to steal Haru-chan away… I’ll go beat them up!!”
“Hold on a second.”
“Oh, I’m just kidding. …Well, maybe half-kidding.”
She smiled sweetly and wiped her hands.
“Now, off to school.”
“…I’m off.”
“Have a good day~”
“…Why, why would you say something like that?”
After school, Yuma stopped at the dimly lit corner of the high school hallway.
The reason was the familiar voices of two people coming from the first-year Class 4 room a little further ahead.
“Yamato-kun… you’re really kind, aren’t you?”
“That’s not true. I’m just doing what anyone would do.”
Deep inside his chest, something squeezed with a loud thud.
The voice belonged to Haru.
And the one speaking to her was—Yamato.
He hadn’t meant to listen. Eavesdropping wasn’t his thing.
But his feet wouldn’t move. His head told him to leave, yet his heart refused.
“You know… I’ve been relying on you so much, Yamato-kun.”
“You’re just pushing yourself too hard, Haru.”
At those words, I sensed Haru give a small, faint laugh.
“…But even so, you’re still here for me, right? That’s why I think I like you.”
Like.
With those words, Yuma’s world lost all color.
(…Ah, I see.)
It all clicked into place.
The reason she accompanied him to rehab.
The reason she was kind to him.
After the accident, after losing basketball.
Haru had simply come to him when he was weak.
Perhaps there had never been any deeper meaning to begin with.
Yuma backed away step by step, trying not to make a sound.
His chest burned with pain, yet strangely, no tears came.
(…What was I expecting?)
He exhaled slowly.
He took several deep breaths, as if pushing the heat trapped in his chest out.
Haru chose Yamato.
Last year, Yamato asked him to cheer him on.
No, rather than choosing him—maybe there was never a place for me there to begin with.
(…It’s fine now.)
The moment he thought that, the tension in his shoulders strangely eased.
The pain hadn’t vanished. He’d simply accepted it.
Yuma turned on his heel and quietly retraced his steps.
So no one would notice, as if nothing had happened.
(As for Haru… I’ll give up on her.)
Across the room, the conversation continued.
“Wow~, thanks! Both of you!”
“The story for this play… the roles were perfect for Ayase-san and Kamiya-kun, so I wanted to use it as a reference for future story development!”
“Sato-san asked me to do it. I’ll do it properly. So, does that story have a happy ending?”
“Yeah, it does.”
“That’s nice.”
Yamato said this honestly, looking at Sato-san. As Sato-san continued explaining with gestures, Yamato nodded quietly to each point. His expression showed he was enjoying the story taking shape in his mind.
“I see… Yeah, it’s easy to understand, and the audience should find it easy to empathize too.”
Beside Yamato, who smiled with a hint of delight, Haru didn’t immediately interject.
She lowered her gaze slightly, tracing the edge of the script on the table with her fingertip. A brief pause, as if deep in thought.
Eventually, she slowly lifted her face and spoke quietly.
“…Hey.”
Her voice was slightly more cautious than before, tinged with deliberation.
“What about introducing someone she met only once long ago?”
“Ah! That’s great! A love triangle!”
“Exactly. She reunites with that person, feels fate… and gradually loses interest in her childhood friend.”
“…That’s… surprisingly specific.”
“I mean, wouldn’t it be fine if it ended with the childhood friend boy?”
“…As a story, that would make it more dynamic, right?”
“Honestly, I think the childhood friend boy could even exit the story.”
Her lips curved into a smile, yet only her eyes gazed somewhere far away. As if already envisioning a future that hadn’t happened yet—eyes reflecting the color of a story she had wished for.
Maiasa