During Volume 11 Chapter 9 and…

The Ferris wheel was far behind our backs. It continued to turn, slowly and carefully, providing its boarders the time to enjoy the scenery. It gave enough time for even those distraught with the height to overcome that fear and to truly appreciate the vistas. It was built for that one purpose. Despite such simplicity, it performed them unhesitatingly, being incapable of holding doubts.

We walked. One last thing. On the way to the train station, Yuigahama had instead urged us on a different path. CRYSTAL VIEW was our destination.

Arriving there, we saw that building's windows had already darkened. Ignoring that, Yuigahama made deft steps towards the terrace, which was still available. Hikigaya and I followed suit.

We stepped close to the edge of the platform. Another kind of scenery, different from the cityscape of the Ferris wheel, spread out before us. Closer to the ground, Tokyo Bay shimmered, every little wave and ripple visible. The smell was salty but not musky, not like in an indoors aquarium or a crowded outdoors exhibit. It was inviting, fresh to the nose. Snow continued to fall. Where flakes met the bay, they disappeared into the waters.

The sun was languid, continuing its slow descent. It had little reason to linger on this side of the world. A timed orange was what it could still afford us. The frigid wind cut through sharply, swaying my hair and freezing my skin. The sun did not have its midday strength to abate the wind's edge.

The terrace was abandoned. Coming here was whimsical. A final look at snowy Tokyo Bay, to squeeze just a little more out of the day, was what I assumed we were doing.

Yuigahama turned away from the scenery, looking satisfied. Then, she faced Hikigaya and me.

"What shall we do from here?" she asked.

She asked without an ounce of hesitation. It was not another act of prolonging, not like the Ferris wheel, not like staying late after the cooking event. In the first place, there was no more water to wring from the towel.

"Go home?" spoke Hikigaya in jest.

Yuigahama shook her head and said, "That's not what I meant."

It did not need to be said, yet Hikigaya had asked anyway, to provide a lifeline for escape. However, Yuigahama's expression turned serious.

"About Yukinon. And also, about me. About us," she said.

"What do you mean?" I asked in shock.

Her eyes grew sharp, like an actress returning to reality. The illusion crumbled. Spending time with each other, just like always, had seemed to be the intention of today — even if today had seemed a little more special.

A pot with a tight-fitting lid, boiling waters that were about to overflow — Yuigahama had always wanted to talk about it, but I had been content with keeping the lid on. My eyes were never on my own pot but on hers — but that, in itself, was no more than an act of aversion.

"Hikki, here."

Yuigahama inserted her hand into her bag. She did not fumble around; her hands knew where to in her bag to grasp. She withdrew her item.

"To thank you for that time."

The item in her hands was a small decorative plastic bag. It was translucent. Inside were cookies, well-shaped and beautiful. A glittering ribbon, reflecting the sun's setting rays, sealed the top with a bow.

How fresh were those cookies? From when had she baked them, and how much of her thoughts did she put into each one?

Inside my school bag, I also had a bag of cookies. They were now two days old, stale and forgotten.

A feeling of devastation flooded over my head. Countless mortars of dread rained down on me. I could only stare at Yuigahama's brilliant work.

I couldn't even begin to imagine — and I did not imagine. I shook my head and let it be, leaving them alone, even as it stung.

Yuigahama stepped in front of Hikigaya, who was taken aback. His surprise was obvious. He could not say a word, let alone move a muscle.

Yuigahama spoke, "My consultation, do you remember it?"

He gasped in realization.

Yuigahama presented her gift to him. Hikigaya made a small motion with his hands but stopped short of accepting it. Seeing that, Yuigahama seemed puzzled for a moment. However, she soon showed a smile of understanding, erasing that previous confusion and acting as if she had foreseen it.

She took hold of Hikigaya's hand and transferred her wishes — and her thanks — to him.

The cookies that were now in Hikigaya's hand were undeniably beautiful; it needed to be said again. The consultation that Yuigahama mentioned was undoubtedly her first request for the Service Club. What she had attempted to bake at that time became blackened, burned and bitter. Still, Hikigaya had not given up on her. Rather, he had implied that she was halfway there, for the thoughts put into each cookie was another part of the recipe. Or so one would like to believe. In reality, what he had said were clever, convincing excuses that people could readily accept.

"Handmade cookies?" I asked in wonder, "You made them on your own?"

"But it's a bit of a failure, isn't it?" modestly spoke Yuigahama.

Even so, those excuses had served their purpose as a seed. The things that blossomed were bold, beautiful.

"Yuigahama-san, you are amazing," I spoke.

Yuigahama had moved forward. She had definitely grown since that time a year ago.

"I said that I'd try it on my own," confidently spoke Yuigahama, "I said I would do it my own way. And this is what I came up with."

Her growth came from that conviction she had been seeded with a year ago, wrong as it may have seemed. The failure that had existed in the past had turned into a success in the present.

"That's why, this is just a thank you," ended Yuigahama.

Her smile was bright — just like always. This was one of the parts of Yuigahama that had not changed — remaining as radiant as it had always been.

I felt relief at this thank you. I even felt comfort.

That's why, I now had suspicions. With such a strong conviction, there was no way she was fully satisfied with just this much.

"You have already thanked me enough," spoke Hikigaya in modesty.

His words were quite normal, quite expected. He was definitely not used to receiving such an earnest gift. Even now, he must have believed that he did not deserve it.

However, his words acted as a prod. Yuigahama's response would have to confirm, once again, her stated intentions. If she did not do that, she would have to re-frame her intentions, to speak of things beyond thankfulness. That was Hikigaya's unintentional ultimatum.

"Still… it's just a thank you," spoke Yuigahama with difficulty.

I glanced downwards. One of her hands was balled up into a fist, shaking uncontrollably. I quickly glanced back at her face. There was a droplet of tears. She bit her lips but did not wipe her face. That droplet disappeared into the air. Her smile was on the verge of fracturing.

She did not — and could not — turn it into anything else. Even when she was pushed, even when she could no longer hold her smile, she tried to prioritize her own purpose.

Her eyes pointed up at the skies. Snowflakes and snowflakes continued to flutter downwards. The moment some snowflakes touched upon Yuigahama's fair skin, they absorbed her warmth in an instant, becoming transparent water. It was as if her face was actively rejecting white blemishes, preserving the beauty of her visage.

"I want everything. Now, and from here on. I know I'm unfair, mean even."

Her words emphasized her selfishness, and she treated it with self-deprecation. No one could completely ignore themselves. Their own wellbeing was at the top of their priorities. Wishes were selfish by nature, as deserving as Yuigahama was of hers.

There were some things that could not be partially or half-heartedly obtained. It was an all-or-nothing deal. Yuigahama was well-aware that what she wanted fell in that category. That's why, if she truly wanted it, she needed to be thoroughly selfish.

"I have already decided," Yuigahama resolutely declared.

"I see…" I muttered.

If Yuigahama were to take everything in order to fulfill her wish, that would conclude many, many things. A feeling of loneliness filled my chest.

Yuigahama continued, "If we find out about each other's feelings, I think we won't be able to stay the way we are now. That's why, this is probably our last consultation. Our last request will be about us."

But she didn't grab hold of it just yet. Her words were intentionally vague, so that she wouldn't take everything without a talking to me.

She must have been taking my feelings into account.

The things that made me flustered, that made me do things that were not my norm, that occupied my thoughts day in and day out — Yuigahama was aware that such things would be stolen from me. The things that I held special, that I — or we — refused to define, would disappear from me.

"Hey, Yukinon, that contest we are having is still on, right?" suddenly asked Yuigahama.

"Yes," I replied with surprise, "The loser will have to listen to whatever the winner says."

Yuigahama nodded. So that was her method.

She walked to my front and laid her hand on my arm. It was not to restrain me, nothing like that. The temperature of her hand could not be felt over the layers of my clothing, but its mere presence served to comfort me.

But her comfort was not without purpose. She confronted me, not averting her eyes. Her focus was with me and mine with hers. It was not without wavering; her pupils were as sharp as they were difficult to handle. Even so, she upheld herself in front of me.

"The problems that Yukinon is facing right now, I know the answer," she declared.

A breaking of glass. Yuigahama's words ruptured something thinly constructed in me.

"I don't understand…" I murmured.

My issues. I could only bear to the name the symptoms. Mother, sister, Yuigahama, Hikigaya, Yukino. All to no end, in spite of rumination, no matter how I acted. Yet, in deference to my sister, or perhaps out of my last vestiges of stubbornness, I had tried to shoulder it on my own, stiff as my shoulders were.

"If I win, I'll take everything," said Yuigahama, "It's probably unfair. But it's the only thing I can think of."

For one who was dry, the wellspring of Yuigahama was far too tempting. But I knew. Unleash it, and it would become a flood. Unstable foundations would absolutely collapse. What would be left would hardly even be called "Yukinoshita".

She stepped back. The comfort was gone. Comfort could no longer be afforded.

"I want things to always remain the same," spoke Yuigahama.

Comfort was exactly what Yuigahama suggested, even if it could no longer be afforded. Things would continue as they were on the surface, burying what lay beneath. I would not grow, at least not in a way that could be considered correct. My mother would continue to be disappointed, and we would continue to disconnect. My sister would continue to barge in on my life, continue being condescending, and continue being unsatisfied. Yuigahama would preserve the status quo, no matter the price and no matter what changed or not changed outside of view.

"Yukinon, is that OK?" she kindly asked.

She held my shaking hand. However, it did not stop shaking. How could it? Her hand was also unsteady.

Yuigahama was not wrong to call this a last request. The things that I held special would disappear. Hers would vanish as well. She had chosen to fulfill such a wish instead of pursuing those special feelings.

The choice to make was weighty, dense. Yet its heaviness dragged me with it. Choosing to say yes actually felt easier than saying no. The moment I took it into consideration, reasons filled my head like water filling a flask and the will to oppose quickly became miniscule.

I would be free of the problem of my "self". My independence would be handed over to Yuigahama, trashing the entire issue.

I would be granting one of Yuigahama's wishes. Was it not a good thing, honouring a friend's wishes?

It would not be easy to evade the discomfort from averting our eyes from our special feelings, but we would no longer have to answer to them.

It felt so easy, even if a darkness could clearly be seen. The allure was irresistible.

"I…"

The ledge was there. It was completely trivial to take the first step. I could already picture myself falling. Tears came from my eyes. The picture I saw of the world and of Yuigahama blurred.

"I wouldn't mi—"

"No."

I turned my wet eyes towards Hikigaya. He had loudly uttered his refusal. His hands were clenched into fists, so tightly that they turned pale.

"I cannot accept this proposal," he spoke with a voice bordering on anger, "Yukinoshita should solve her problems herself."

His back was slouched. His posture was crude, far from magnificent. The pitch of his voice shifted upwards by a semitone. He glanced back and forth between us and the ground while crushing his teeth together between words.

"Besides, that's nothing but…"

He paused and grimaced, as if he was preparing to spit out something distasteful.

"…nothing but a deception," he uttered.

He warped the whole of his face, from the wrinkled bridge of his nose to the frown of his lips, to show his disgust. He could hardly bear to say it. It was something that had always plagued the life Hikigaya Hachiman, something that broke him down even before Yuigahama and me.

He continued, "Be it vague answers or superficial relationships, I don't need any of those."

He swiped the air with one hand, batting away what was deplorable. In contrast his other hand held still, gently upholding the bag of cookies received from Yuigahama, its contents yet uncrushed despite Hikigaya's current state.

For a moment, he smiled to himself. It dripped like mercury, carrying globs of irony. The self-deprecation was evident. It was an acknowledgement of misfortune. Clearing up the comforting fog of vagueness was the same as choosing to eat the sour grapes that they hid. He knew that.

"Even so, I want us to think, to writhe, to struggle, I…"

He abruptly stopped speaking, freezing himself in place. His eyes were on the verge of tears. The brokenness of his expression was exactly the same as it was back then. However, there could be no doubting what he would have said.

Yuigahama's solution might have been the best one, logically speaking. It would have been the easiest path to take. If the sole goal was to eliminate all the pain, then it would have acted as a fantastic anesthetic.

But Hikigaya had had enough of such solutions. He had told us during the winter of last year. He could no longer bear with lies and deception anymore, after having dirtying his hands so much, after hurting himself so much.

There was no way that Hikigaya could accept Yuigahama's proposal. After all, it was in no way genuine.

"…Hikki, I thought you would say something like that."

Yuigahama smiled. Her warmth was restored in full. Against the backdrop of the setting sun, she seemed to glow more than even that gigantic star.

I had been mistaken. This was Yuigahama's plan all along. It was something that all three of us wanted. It was not a guarantee of anything. If anything, it was even more difficult. Even so, to choose not to move even as time caused the background to move was not the correct answer.

I took a deep breath. Of course, the reality still had me shivering in fear. My mother was a monster. My sister was a tyrant. Even so, they were obstacles of mine, ones that I had to overcome to grow.

"Don't decide my feelings for me," I muttered as I wiped my face, "Also, that's not the last of anything."

It was not an ending. Only fairy tales could cleanly end things with a happy ever-after. Often, in reality, an ending meant breaking things apart. A last request would truly be the end of us. But now was not that time.

More concretely, we did, indeed, have a reason why we couldn't call anything the last time.

The two of them turned to me. I faced Hikigaya.

"Hikigaya-kun, we still have your request," I said.

He looked confused. But it wasn't entirely his fault. I was being a little mischievous, no? Back then, he only had the Christmas event in mind. But more than that, I had accepted what he really wanted, and part of that was continuing work through things together.

I, too, had things I wanted. I was an awkward girl. My throat would get stuck and my lips would get dry. I would get lost in my stubbornness even if the object was a stuffed doll (that was of a limited edition). As unfortunate as it was, only when Yuigahama and Hikigaya were close by like this, looking at me so warmly, could I muster the courage.

"And one more thing," I spoke.

Not expecting that, their expressions turned to surprise. I took a step towards them.

"My request, will you hear it?" I asked.

"Sure, let's hear it," replied Yuigahama.

Yuigahama stepped towards me and, again, took my hand. I squeezed back. It was comforting, just as usual.

I let them know about my request. I said it quite quickly. Without any context, it sounded extremely vague. After all, you would expect the people whom you asked the request of to already be watching out for you. For that to be the request itself was as concrete as melted snow.

I had made a mistake. I stared downwards. My hands were still being grasped by Yuigahama, but it was now shaking slightly. At a moment before, the hands that I held leaped into my mind.

We were wrapped in silence. Meaninglessness was the same as silence. My vague words from before were so meaningless, I may as well have not talked in the first place.

I was an awkward girl.

It took a while before the silence could be brazenly broken.

"Talking more about it would take kind've long…"

I agreed that it would. Well, of course I would agree with myself. I was the one that said it, right? Then again, I would be talking to Yuigahama's hand if I was. It was still clutching mine, even though I had chosen what I had chosen.

I glanced upwards. Yuigahama smiled at me, just like usual. Her expression was complicated. I asked myself. How much of her previous ploy was merely a play?

Weeds of regret began to sprout back. Her eyes were reflective. I could see mine. In turn, I could see hers. Where did the hesitation begin, and where did it end?

The things that were left unsaid, she had definitely wanted to say them. The wishes that went unmentioned bulged out like a bubble, desperately needing to burst.