冬至 Tōji - Winter Solstice
You want to go back
to where the sky was inside us...
But face it, we have been
improved, our heads float
several inches above our necks
-Margaret Atwood
When Eru Chitanda appears on the steps of the shrine, Kaho is stifling a yawn. The puffs of warm breath that manage to escape curl into the gray sunlight, dissipating into the foggy air. She shivers and rubs her arms beneath her sleeves as the breeze picks up, twisting the dark strands of her fringe across her eyelids.
Eru waves at her as she nears, coming into a bow that Kaho returns. "Good morning, Kaho-san!"
"Good morning, Eru. You're early, even for the time you specified last night."
"Ah." Eru's face is flushed from the cold. "I woke up earlier than I thought I would. It's pretty chilly this morning."
"It's a beautiful morning." These have always been Kaho's favorite. The mist can settle as low as the rice fields, light but thick, casting a pearly sheen over the city. They give her, more so than anything else, the sense that each and every endless possibility is just within reach. She can never tell what kind of day it will be.
Eru nods and Kaho gestures behind her, blinking. "Come inside. Sorry, seems I'm still half dreaming."
They warm up in the main room and Kaho feels the tea and light conversation prodding at her drowsy mind. Eru takes small sips, hands wrapped around her cup to soak in the warmth.
"I was a bit surprised when you called last night. Usually I'm the one asking someone to help with tōji preparations."
"I wanted to take the opportunity, since I finally have the free time. I used to come over before festivals all the time back in middle school."
"That's true." Kaho sets down her tea and waits for the condensation on her glasses to fade. "I guess now is our last chance to relive our childhood."
Eru laughs. "You sound so old, Kaho-san."
"This early in the morning, I feel it."
Her friend regards the table and Kaho's weary brain finally wakes up enough to register the new look in Eru's wide eyes. Her fingers pick at the wood grain. "Well. You might be right."
Eru doesn't talk quite as much as she used to. Kaho supposes that none of them do, time and college entrance exams having made them all a bit more reserved. Change is inevitable but slow, limited, and even the looming end of their rosy high school life hadn't tempered Eru Chitanda's inquisitive nature, her burning need for answers that pushed through the image of perfect, polite daughter of Kamiyama. Or so Kaho had thought.
This morning, there's a new hesitation between Eru's responses that has Kaho's mind turning just a little faster.
Eru gets up and straightens out her skirt. "Thank you for the tea, Kaho-san."
"Are you sure you don't want to eat something? You look pale."
"No, no, I'm fine." She clasps her hands together, eyes shining again. "Where do you need me?"
Kaho presses her lips into a smile and her thoughts tumble on. She isn't exactly worried. It's been a long time since she learned not to be concerned about Eru's reticence. There is a consistency in the way Eru Chitanda lets her curiosity coalesce, worrying at her mind as she buries herself in distractions. Kaho thinks that must be one reason for Eru's sudden interest in volunteering at the shrine. She sweeps the stairs of the sanctuary and watches Eru string up lanterns, ladle udon, laugh with the shrine workers, with a feeling like she's watching a balloon fill up with air, close to bursting.
Fortunately, Kaho's own curiosity is grounded by patience. Eru will tell her when she's ready.
By midday, the sun has broken wide swaths through the mist and Eru has cooked her way through most of the shrine's food storage. Kaho pulls her away to rest and eat, settling in an open porch area near the miko changing rooms. This part of the shrine is shaded by trees, the crisp wind blocked from them by wood and rice paper. It's not as cold, but they still drag a kotatsu out onto the floor to keep their slipper-clad feet warm.
Kaho is just beginning to enjoy the sleepy, post-meal warmth when Eru looks up suddenly, catches her eye. The balloon pops.
"Kaho-san. Can I talk to you about something?"
Kaho's shoulders loosen. "Yes. I thought you might've wanted to."
Eru clasps her fingers tightly together. Nervous. "I'm not very sure where to start."
"That's okay. What is it about?" Kaho can count on one finger the number of subjects Eru would be so hesitant to talk about, but. Maybe she ought to start off a bit bigger. "Did something happen with the Classics Club?"
Eru scrunches her face and looks down at her lap. "Not…not really."
Nevermind. Better to hit the nail on the head. "Or is it about that boy? Houtarou Oreki?"
Immediately, Eru's entire face turns red. Kaho lets her sputter silently for a moment, lightly waving away the steam from her tea. Eventually, Eru holds her face in her hands and groans. "Kaho-san."
"Yes?"
"Just—you know—without even a little warning?"
"Sorry. I'll build up to it next time."
She admires the flush that's blossomed on the tips of Eru's ears and tries not to smile. Even if they had not been friends since they were toddlers, it wouldn't have been hard to guess. Anyone who'd been paying any attention to the Classics club in the last three years could see that Houtarou Oreki and Eru Chitanda unsettled something in each other.
Slowly, Eru takes her hands away from her face, sighing. "Well. You're not wrong."
"But?"
"But this isn't only about Houtarou-san. That is, my issue doesn't really even involve him as much as it involves me. What I'm supposed to do."
Just then, behind Eru's head, a glimmer of sunlight bounces off something metal and catches Kaho's eye, right as she's about to open her mouth. It's a metal pipe, one that disappears between the damp, wooden slats of a small building. A shed. Kaho closes her eyes briefly. Misty mornings and endless possibility.
She waits as Eru huffs, shakes her head a bit, and lays her hands flat on the table. Determined. She stares right at Kaho with a gleam in her eyes that Kaho doesn't think she's ever seen before.
"I received a proposal."
past – three of wands (momentum)
Kaho has always been observant; it comes with being quiet and somewhat detached. Still, there's a notable difference between when one actively focuses on a subject and when one must notice a subject pushed continually to the forefront of one's focus.
Frankly, though Eru may be her friend, Kaho has never viewed the Classics Club as belonging in either of those categories. She had never had much interest in history to begin with, never seen any reason in examining the past. Eru's uncle had been a member, but Kaho's knowledge about the club had never extended beyond that fact. It wasn't until later that Eru told her that they solved mysteries—among other things—and even that was contextual, setting a framework for the various discussions they'd had about the club's members.
Well, one member in particular.
Houtarou Oreki, Kaho quickly decided, would likely never find anyone more readily available to sing his praises than Eru Chitanda. She could not find fault in him, and if Kaho had not already made the acquaintance of one Mayaka Ibara, she might have believed Eru.
Sometimes, hearing her friend talk about the club and all its thrilling, inductive adventures, she was honestly impressed. Eru had always been curious, rushing headlong into the unknown and risking all manner of discomfort in search of her own satisfaction. If what Kaho had heard about him was true, Houtarou Oreki couldn't have avoided being caught up in it if he'd tried.
"You know, I thought he was going to actually put his foot down once," says Mayaka. "Last year, during the Jūmonji incident. He refused to try and figure out who was stealing the items, even though it would've helped our sales."
Kaho shrugs. "It did seem impossible, when Eru told me about it. I wouldn't want to get in over my head."
Mayaka scoffs. "He just wanted to be lazy."
"I didn't want to be used as a promotional tool." Houtarou points out, not even bothering to turn around. "Which is what you were suggesting."
"He can complain all he likes, but he still solved it." Mayaka makes a face at his back. "Caved and got right down to it like he always does whenever Chi-chan asks him something. He can't help it."
"Oh?"
"The log said so himself." Mayaka points her pencil behind her. "Chi-chan's not someone he can ignore. She's never been. He's been an idiot right from the start."
Kaho tilts her head to the side, interested. Behind Mayaka, she can see the red tips of Houtarou's ears as he listens to Satoshi talk.
"Wait! Don't move, put your head back where it was. The glare's off."
So, having tried, Houtarou Oreki really can't avoid being caught up in it all. Neither, it seems, can Kaho. Usually, the unassuming Classics Club went by fairly unobserved, save for one day every year. Since the infamous trapping of Houtarou Oreki and Eru Chitanda on New Year's Eve in her family shrine's shed, around that time in every subsequent year Kaho seems to find herself involved with the Club's various, interesting members. There has been no indication that this phenomenon is a result of anything other than happy circumstance, but Kaho can't help wondering at the perfect timing.
Right now, it is a year after the shed incident and a year before Eru's misty morning visit and Kaho is trying her best not to move as Mayaka Ibara puts the finishing touches on a drawing across from her, sketching aggressively.
"I'm trying to figure out my style with glasses," she'd explained when she first asked Kaho to model for her. "There's traditional shading and glare emphasis and stuff, but I want to try out some different ways of drawing them. No one around me wears glasses though, so I could never study a real example."
Once Kaho was on break, Mayaka had set up her work station at one of the long tables in the tea room where she claimed the lighting was best, shooing Houtarou and Satoshi away to sit at a different one. Eru was absent, having gone to greet Kaho's family and help out in the kitchen.
"Thank you for this again, Jūmonji-san. Before, I asked Fuku-chan to help, but he doesn't sit still long enough for me to get the basic sketch down."
Both of them ignore Satoshi's noise of protest. "Does Fukube-kun have glasses?"
"He has a really old pair he won at an online auction. The lenses were filthy since they probably haven't been cleaned since the beginning of time, but I'd lent my cosplay glasses to a friend, so they were the best we had."
"Hey!" Satoshi's voice cries out again. "Those spectacles are an antique from the twenties."
"Yeah, they sure had eighty years' worth of dirt on them," Mayaka shoots back. "What's the point of having glasses if you can't see out of them?"
"No, no, no," Satoshi shakes his head. "They're collectibles, you're not supposed to wear them. Those glasses survived wars, the grime gives it value."
Mayaka waves him off, rolling her eyes fondly as Satoshi talks wildly at a sleepy Houtarou about winning the auction, turning back to her work. "He's a nerd about things like that. Or about anything, really."
Kaho can't say she's surprised. What little she knows about Satoshi Fukube primarily encompasses the fact that he has many interests, and a remarkable drive to pursue those interests down to their very last detail.
"You know how to read tarot, right, Jūmonji-san?"
For a moment, Kaho just blinked. The shrine had just begun lighting the lanterns that lined the stone paths and it seemed that the Classics Club was early this year. Mayaka, having chosen not to work as a miko this time, promptly left in search of an even earlier Eru, dragging a reluctant Houtarou with her. When Kaho returned to the main room, Satoshi Fukube had called out to her, asking to chat. She'd obliged, her curiosity winning out over her hesitation. Other than Eru, Satoshi Fukube was Kaho's only other consistent point of overlap with the Classics Club, and she'd only ever talked to him twice before.
His question hadn't thrown her off balance for long. "Yes. You came to my tent during last year's Kanya Festival for a reading, after the Jūmonji incident was resolved."
"Right! You clued Chitanda-san in on the missing items." Satoshi had sighed, putting his hands behind his head. "I was returning your Wheel of Fortune card."
Kaho hummed. "Is that the card they took? I can barely remember."
"Yep, well. That's a database for you. My memory's always been pretty special." He'd chuckled a little. "That mystery was an interesting one. Did Chitanda-san ever tell you what happened?"
When she'd shaken her head, Satoshi quirked his eyebrow. "Didn't you want to know why they took your card?"
"Not really. I was just glad it was returned."
"Wow." He blew out a breath. "After knowing Chitanda-san for so long, that's kind of strange to hear."
Kaho smiled. "We all look for different things. I don't like finality."
Well, that wasn't quite the case. She'd just never really understood it, the desperate need for an explanation. In her own way, Kaho was curious too, and she could appreciate the thrill of trying to understand an unknowable thing. But something about breaking it down, taking it apart until every indistinguishable bit is exposed and realized and decipherable, took away too much. Receiving a conclusive answer had always been a disappointing experience for her.
It was why she so enjoyed using mediums. Tarot and tea leaves could only tell someone so much, their vague, subjective judgments open to all interpretation. It was wonderfully unsatisfying, and Kaho had always liked how some things remained a mystery.
Satoshi had laughed, getting it immediately. "Well, I guess fortune telling is perfect for you then. Ask and you might receive, depending on who you are, what you ask, how you think about the answer. There's all sorts of tarot spreads too, right, so even how the cards are read can change."
She raised her brow. "You know a lot about tarot."
"After that visit to your tent, I got a little obsessed with it. If I remember right, I pulled the Fool." He tapped a finger to his chin. "I suppose that isn't too inaccurate."
Kaho had fought back a laugh. "Pulling that card doesn't mean that you are a fool."
Satoshi grinned. "I know, though I'm sure Mayaka would say so."
Just then, the other three Classics Club members had returned, Mayaka talking animatedly about something. Eru and Houtarou were both holding trays laden with bowls and cups, and Kaho saw her friend eyeing Houtarou's tray as though she wanted to take it from him. Houtarou pretended he couldn't notice.
"That idiot." Hearing Satoshi's groan, she turned back in time to catch his small, sympathetic grimace. "Still dragging his feet."
"Oreki-san? Is he doing something?"
"He needs to be doing something."
Kaho thought back to what she knew about him from Eru, Mayaka. "Is it something he doesn't want to do?"
After that, Satoshi was silent for a long time, staring up at the ceiling. Kaho startled a little when he chuckled, closed his eyes. "You know, normally I'd know the answer to that. But lately it's getting harder to tell between need and want, with him."
Seeing Mayaka wave at him, he got up from the table, apologizing for taking up her time. "We should talk more often. You're much better at holding a conversation than Houtarou."
"Is that a compliment?"
"Yes. No? I guess." He coughed a bit, smiling. "Well, you're Chitanda-san's friend and you know Mayaka, so I'm sure you've heard a lot about Houtarou. He doesn't do anything he feels he doesn't have to. Differentiating between need or want probably isn't something he thinks too hard about. Plus," he smiled wider, "he's changed a lot since he met Chitanda-san. You'll probably hear more about that, too."
A few hours later, as Kaho stretches out her tightened neck and Mayaka scans her finished sketch happily, Eru comes back into the room and it's like condensation on her glasses has been wiped away. Suddenly, all she can see is this: the Classics Club, loud and lovely, teasing and laughing and talking over each other. Kaho catches the look in Houtarou's eyes when Satoshi nudges him, Mayaka insults him, Eru beams at him, and wonders whether he was really trying to avoid anything at all.
In the end, she doesn't find out what it is that he needed to do. Her break ends, and her four classmates disappear outside, and as she moves around the shrine Kaho lets her mind drift easily away from the Classics Club.
She doesn't actually see them again until it is a couple hours before midnight, and it isn't clear until much later that, had she been paying a bit more attention, a statement by one Eru Chitanda in the next year might have been far less confusing. Upon drawing his second kyō fortune in as many years, and letting Satoshi laugh about it for five minutes, Houtarou had promptly tied it to the nearest pine tree he could find, right next to the shed. While Satoshi was busy texting a missing Mayaka about it, Houtarou finally expressed to Eru the sentiment he had been unable to voice in the early spring air, months ago. When Mayaka had arrived, making every joke she could think of about Houtarou's lack of luck, she and Satoshi decided that, while there was simply no way that someone like Houtarou could've gotten rid of his misfortune that easily, there happened to be a much more effective solution nearby.
Kaho finds all of them in the dark shed—Mayaka and Eru huddled close together, Satoshi discussing the upcoming Christmas special of a drama with Houtarou, the three of them laughing at Houtarou's surly expression—and thinks that if they're going to be in there so often they should probably leave the door open.
Full contextual understanding requires good timing. Crucial details can easily slip out of notice, like water through the crevices between fingers.
She remembers that scene vividly the following year, when Eru's sudden proclamation makes its way into her brain in the early afternoon on New Year's Eve. Kaho feels the muscles in her face twitch, her mouth slacken.
This is the year she realizes that the Classics Club makes a habit of firmly shoving itself to the forefront of her focus.
"Wait. What?"
present – judgment (reflection)
Right now, Kaho is very glad she set down her cup.
Eru covers her mouth. "Oh, wait, it's—no, it's not that kind of—I'm not, uh…"
Kaho presses her lips together but a laugh still slips out. "It's okay, Eru."
"It was a business proposal!" Eru gets out, her face burning. "About my family. Our business."
"Houtarou Oreki wants to work with your family's business?" She doesn't really have to catch Eru's hesitation to know what this means. Chitanda, Sarusuberi, Manninbashi, Jūmonji. All of them were raised and steeped in tradition.
"Wi—with me." Her voice is a drop in a pool. "He wants to work with me."
"Hm." Kaho puts her cup to her lips. "It might as well be a proposal then."
Eru puts her face in her hands and leans down onto the table. A small sound comes out of her bowed figure that would've made Kaho laugh if she wasn't so rattled herself. The tea in her cup ripples. This is what Satoshi said Houtarou needed to do?
"I'm sorry," Eru mumbles into her arms. "This is probably all very strange to you."
"Well," She studies the chips in the wood table top, the indents in the lacquer. "Not really."
Her friend lifts her red face. "No?"
"It's a bit surprising." They're older now, but still just in high school. Whether or not Houtarou Oreki knows the full extent of what he was proposing, they're young. Far too young, in Kaho's opinion, to be able to stand the weight of their promises. "I didn't think this would happen so soon."
And it's true, despite how Eru gapes in front of her. It's not like she didn't think it would happen at all. It's definitely not strange. It is why she'd heard so clearly what Satoshi and Mayaka were really saying about Houtarou, last year, their words so carefully vague. Kaho has always been observant; she hadn't batted an eye. Luckily for Eru, and she thinks Houtarou, too, most of the students at Kamiyama High didn't look so closely into the goings-on of the strange, quirky Classics Club.
This year, she's been put in a class with Houtarou Oreki, their seats in rows right next to each other. She notices him in ways she probably would not have had Eru and Mayaka not given her so much preliminary information, and so far many of Mayaka's claims have proven true. He yawns so much in class Kaho wonders if he gets enough sleep, his slouching posture at odds with the sharp way his pen moves across the page. College exams come and go, and Houtarou continues to doze his way through the first two semesters, reading paperbacks during the breaks in between classes.
Incidentally, a few days before winter break started, Mayaka had come to their classroom, heading straight for Kaho with a faintly worried expression. She had asked after Eru, if Eru had talked to her recently, but Kaho hadn't seen much of her that entire month. Through her lashes, she'd caught a glimpse of Houtarou a row over, his back to them. His book was still open and propped against the table, but he'd straightened his spine, sitting in a tense, upright position. She hadn't needed to see his face.
It no longer matters. As much as Eru admired him, she clearly hadn't seen this coming, had let it pinch at her for a whole year. This was her curiosity coalesced, worries overthought and packed into a dam in the river of her mind. Now, at least for Kaho, it isn't his interest that might be in question.
"Does anyone else know?"
Eru shrugs. "I think Mayaka-chan and Fukube-san might."
"They wouldn't be surprised at all," Kaho agrees. They definitely know. "Has Oreki-san ever met your parents?"
"Only a few times, when the club comes over. Or after the Doll Festival." Eru winces. "They suspect."
Eru's parents are quiet, Kaho knows, and less rigid about convention than their forebears, than most people might think. But they are parents; they take note of who approaches their daughter, and who stays. "Well, this isn't really a matter of how they feel about it anyway." She manages to catch Eru's eyes, hold them. "How did you respond?"
Eru fidgets in her seat. "I didn't, really. It was so sudden, and he was letting me think about it. Then Mayaka-chan and Fukube-san returned, and that was that."
"How would you have responded?"
Eru fidgets harder, but Kaho can see answers crystallizing in her mind, made and unmade, like single snowflakes in a storm. She is grounded in patience, but sometimes things need a little bit of a push.
And she's genuinely curious. "Do you love him?"
Eru's wide eyes get even wider. Kaho backtracks. "Sorry. You don't have to answer that."
"No, I—" Eru bites at her lip, a strand of her hair caught between her fingers so she doesn't pick at her nails. "I should, shouldn't I? Have an answer, after all this time."
"No, no. I'm sorry," Kaho apologizes. "Don't force your heart."
"I like him," admits Eru, her hands flying apart. "I like him and I—I do care. I want to say I know him, more than I thought I would. He's so familiar to me now." She sighs. "He isn't like anyone else. Is it enough for that kind of love? I don't know."
Kaho considers for a moment. "If it is, it should be your decision. For him, at least, it's enough to propose this."
Her friend nods. "He's serious about it. I could tell, and it made me happy." Her hands interlace again, the print of her fingertips deepening on her skin.
"But?"
Eru flinches a little, sitting up straighter. "He shouldn't."
Kaho lowers her hands to her lap. There's a hard dullness in Eru's violet eyes that holds her focus, her body bending forwards like a flower stem with the breeze. Her voice is infinitesimally softer. "He shouldn't make you happy?"
"He'll regret it," states Eru. Kaho swallows.
Ah. Here. They'd stumbled upon the heart of it.
"He shouldn't do this at his own expense, like it's another mystery to solve." Eru shakes her head almost vigorously. "Not this time, about something so consequential. What I want isn't important if it will only cause him trouble."
"It's important to him." Kaho says, gently. "You say he never does things he doesn't need to do."
Eru closes her eyes. "It's not true. He has always done things he has needed to do, and not needed to do. For Mayaka-chan and Fukube-san and me, for his sister. He just looks for the path of least resistance, the least tiresome. Helping me was always easier to manage." She tucks the strand of hair behind her ear, the tip of it caressing her cheek. "He's gotten used to it."
"So you don't think any part of this is what he wants?" Satoshi's words play themselves back into her head. Needs and wants. "After all this, he's still just doing what he thinks he has to do?"
For a time, Eru is silent, and guilt swirls into Kaho's gut. She isn't here to add to Eru's confusion, but Kaho doesn't want to take her answer away from her. It isn't like she has them, anyway—they're both in uncharted territory. But much like tarot or tea leaves, worry is subjective, a way to cope with the fear of some unknown. She can see Eru's like a shrinking chain around her soul.
"No." Eru breathes out, her eyes cracking. Kaho's shoulders untighten. Of course. If Eru has learned anything in her high school life, it is how to stand and face the feelings of those she loves. "I know that Houtarou-san wants to help me, right now. He understood what that proposal would mean, he'd never have done it to uphold some misguided duty."
"So, you think he will be disappointed, somewhere down this path you've envisioned is laid out for you." It's a reflection of Eru's words. Sometimes, a thought is easier to face when it comes from somewhere outside a person's head. "But he's made his choice. Will you stop him from doing what you both want?"
"I don't know." Eru's resolve shifts just a little, enough to let Kaho know just how uncomfortable she is with the idea. "I could. He cannot regret his choice if I do not let him choose it."
In the pause that follows, Kaho has the surging, horrifying urge to laugh. She chews the inside of her cheek to stop herself. It figures that Eru might be the only person she will ever know who is selfless to the point of selfishness.
And she had been right earlier. The crux of the issue doesn't involve Houtarou Oreki nearly as much as it involves Eru herself.
"You know, sometimes I wish we weren't so old already."
Eru blinks. "What?"
There is no way to ask why someone is afraid of failure. Or, at least, not one that Kaho can think of that doesn't sound astoundingly insensitive. "Things used to be a lot simpler. We thought we could do anything." She points at Eru. "Where did we used to say we wanted to go? We must've listed over a hundred countries."
"Somewhere in Europe," Eru answers slowly. "Egypt, the Philippines. New Zealand, you always said."
"Right? It's beautiful there." Kaho half-smiles at her. "We were in middle school, and we'd sit on my family's steps and talk about this, all the places we wanted to see. What we wanted to be."
A cool breeze sweeps under their roof and takes with it some of the heaviness in Eru's face. "Yes. Sometimes until it got dark and we were bitten all over." She picks up her cup, pensive. "What did I want to be?"
"An archaeologist." Kaho replies. "I remember. You said a few more—astronaut, librarian, but you kept coming back to that one. You thought it must be so cool, uncovering natural wonders all over the world."
Eru smiles into her tea. "You wanted to be a photographer."
"Yes. I'd be a good one, too, if I had more interest in it." She gestures vaguely. "It might be something different, but I won't know until I try."
It's half a lie. For Kaho, there's no need to say why she will never try, and never know. Not when her feet shape perfectly to shrine steps, callouses for every pebbled path, and her miko attire feels like skin. She's settled into this.
But Eru. She adjusts her glasses. "Could that be something you're worried about?"
Eru's eyes look through her, and she doesn't say a word. Thinking. Thinking hard now, but Kaho guesses that it isn't something she hasn't thought about before.
It's painfully familiar, and yet Kaho's sympathy cannot fully overwhelm her interest. Eru Chitanda is determined. She's known this almost as long as Eru has known her path, the settled direction of her life. Kaho's had her doubts, and part of her figured that Eru had too, like anyone else, especially in the moments when they sat on the steps of the shrine and thought about Thailand, Greece, New Zealand, and her shining purple eyes had reflected the clouds. Eventually, inexorably, her confusion would be swallowed up like late stars in the light of the burgeoning sun, painted over with an arrow that leads her always back to where she came from. Like Kaho's was.
Now that she knows Eru doubts that she can succeed, Kaho can't help wondering if she even wants to.
Eru blows out a little breath that surprises her, her face oddly peaceful. "No."
"No?"
"I understand, but no." Eru wrinkles her nose. "I don't think I'd make a very good archaeologist."
Kaho hears it in her voice. The seasons are late, and the land grows tired. Still, the duty that Eru Chitanda's parents passed on to their daughter blazes as brightly in Eru's every movement as the summer sun. This is the part of her she's chosen.
It's double-edged; failure is now all the more terrifying.
She laughs. "Well, you never were much interested in history. You've always been fascinated by things that can grow, that are alive with potential."
"Things like plants." Eru teases. "That's fitting."
"Oh, definitely." Kaho hums. "Things like your club and your mysteries."
And, she thinks quietly to herself, things like Houtarou Oreki.
"I appreciate the question, though." Eru bows her head. "We don't usually hear it."
"Only during career plan week," agrees Kaho. "And even then, the teachers just assume. It gets a bit annoying, actually."
Her friend smiles again, but the shadow is back. "It's their expectation. Carry on tradition, moving forward through the same steps, and always improving, getting faster. We're taught how, all our lives, but lately it's," Eru wracks her brain, trying to think of the worst word for this worst feeling. "Overwhelming."
"And Oreki-san was the catalyst for this?"
"Kind of. I've been worried for a while." Eru eyes flash with near guilt. "Houtarou-san made it worse."
It's contradictory, but Kaho relaxes. Eru is ever flawless, well-mannered and absolute in all the roles her life assumes. It is interesting and somewhat relieving to know that she has her own moments of insecurity.
Of greater interest is the fact that Houtarou Oreki has the unique talent of affirming Eru's flaws, bringing them out of the polished woodwork of her life.
"Well. We are taught with great care how to follow this road, all our lives. As far as the rest of us can see, you're exceeding expectations."
"I know. It's irritating." Eru balls her hands into fists. "My family is tied to this land, but nothing is guaranteed. You said you won't ever know until you try. In the end, it might not matter how prepared I am." She breathes in. "All the years it took to plant the ground under my feet. Just for me to ruin it."
"You wouldn't." Kaho affirms. "No matter what you do. Because you are prepared, as much as you don't feel it. There's a curiosity for knowledge that only you have."
She unclenches her hands, then clenches them again. "I don't know. Is that really enough?"
"It is," says Kaho, willing it with her entire being. "And you aren't alone. You've been taught well, and you'll have better guidance." She puts her palms out, face-up. "Your parents aren't going to dust the soil off their hands and leave you entirely to your own devices. Whatever their expectations, you know who they are."
Kaho knows, too. Quiet, kind, less rigid about convention. But Eru is their daughter, and second to nothing. If she had chosen to leave and see the world, they would have gladly seen her off. "You couldn't disappoint them."
"Perhaps." Eru sighs again, her eyes still clouded over. When she blushes, Kaho predicts what she will say. "My family is one thing, though. Houtarou-san is another.
"Is he?"
"He isn't bound to me, or this place. It's different." She splays her hands on the wood floor, as if she can feel down the frozen roots below. "He has so much to give."
"It's his choice." Kaho points out, frowning. "If he puts as much value in himself as you do, then he's offered this because it is what he believes he can do, above all else.
"It's not that I don't think he hasn't thought this through," insists Eru. "It's because I know he has. I feel like I'm already failing." She cups her hands, her fingertips rosy. "When I was little, I used to help pull seed bags out of our warehouse, in the spring. They were heavy, but it was something I wanted to do. The fields, the crops, they would be mine to safekeep, one day. I wanted to be ready."
Through the roof, a beam of sunlight splashes across the table between them. "Seeds are proof of someone's connection to the earth, our aspirations, full of lifeblood and sweat and potential." She pushes her hands forward, cupping the light. "Each time, I was holding the future in my hands, bringing it out of the dark."
Eru spreads her fingers apart. "Now, I'm losing control of it. Everyone's trust feels too much to handle. Like I'm running, trying to carry handfuls of seeds and more keep slipping through my fingers." She sounds tired. "I can't bear wasting them."
Kaho hums. She doesn't want to be blunt, but. "How have you been keeping this to yourself all this time?"
It makes Eru choke on a laugh, her expression breaking. "Not sure. I feel full of doubt, these days."
"We're still just in high school." Kaho waves. "I think we're supposed to be. You don't need to stop the doubt or the fear, as long as you know there is no need for it. And now you've got a handy metaphor to use."
"Kaho-san." Eru huffs, but it's in good humor.
"Eru," replies Kaho. "As much time as you have spent these last few years getting to know Oreki-san, he has been knowing you. All of us, your family, your friends. We know what you can do. How can we expect anything more?" The metal on the shed blinks, catches her eye again, and she smiles softly. "It isn't different with Oreki-san. Think, in the years you have been together. What have you asked each other to do, other than your best? When has anything you two have accomplished ever fallen short?"
The wind picks up; the dry branches crackling, limbs bending into one another. Eru bites her lip, a little helplessly. "When?" Said quietly, ringing out over the air outside. "Never, I suppose. But this is the rest of a life. It isn't like another mystery."
"Isn't it?" Kaho raises her brows. "You build the puzzle, but you still have to piece it all together. Maybe there isn't a conclusive answer," she tilts her head at Eru, teasing, "or maybe there is. I suppose it depends on what exactly you're looking for. But life is just you, trying to figure out some unknown using what you already know, and what you will learn. You said that's what he's gotten used to, right?"
Eru shrugs, but it looks a little bit like dawn is breaking in her face. "He could decide it isn't worth it."
"He could. I don't know him like you do." She lets out a sigh. "Another Classics Club mystery starts, and neither of you knows where you will end up. I don't think Oreki-san regrets a single second of it."
Over the roof, the wind howls silently. Leftover tendrils of mist waft away on the current into the blooming sky, drops of water sparkling in the sun like midday stars. The air in their small porch alcove remains still—a photograph, pocketed time—while the universe shifts around them. Eru looks back at her, and Kaho watches her eyes begin to twinkle.
"No. I don't think so, either." Slowly, she shuts them, her face light pink. Kaho almost wants to reach out and hold her hands, but her fingers feel like marble. "And Mayaka-chan keeps saying he's an idiot. What does he think I can do that would make this something he wants?"
"Well," Kaho hums, swallowing a laugh. "There's not such a large difference between what any of us think you can do and what you want to do. The only person you really have to worry about disappointing is yourself, Eru."
She snorts, leaning back. The line of her shoulders is looser. "I probably will. But then Houtarou-san and Mayaka-chan would scold me."
"As they should."
"I guess." Eru sounds wistful. "Still. I might never get used to it. Not knowing for sure. What could happen down the roads of my choices, what could go wrong. I can't stop thinking about it."
"Come back, when it overwhelms you." Kaho reaches for her cup, the tea chilled. "Talk about it. You're not as reticent as you used to be, before high school. And you have people who love you, who care." She sips. "Personally, I wondered if you would ever talk about your worries with me."
"Oh? Why?"
"You always seemed so sure of your place, your life's purpose. I thought you must have buried any insecurity deep down under your soul." Kaho clasps her hands together innocently. "You never let it show."
"What do you mean?" asks Eru, thinking of the shrine steps. "Didn't we spend months wishing after what we could do out in the world, if we chose differently?"
"Yes. But I think this is the first time you addressed it head-on. Unearthed all of your fear and owned up to it."
She's seen bits and pieces of it through the years, Kaho's realized. Over a decade she has known Eru—watching her pick at her clothes, stress out over exams, complain at formal family events. All of their desperate need to get out, to go somewhere. More or less, every single one of those worries had stemmed from this, the roots of her restlessness caging in the larger issue.
A brush of air tickles along the curve of her ear, distant laughter and the sweet smell of yuzu turning it warm on her skin. There's a settling in her heart, an itch scratched, that makes her feel like she could take flight. Maybe, just this once, Kaho is starting to see the appeal of solving a mystery.
"For what it's worth, I think you'd make a great archaeologist." She says, straight-faced.
Eru grimaces. "Kaho-san."
"I do." Kaho laughs. "Truthfully, I think you could do anything you put your mind to. You're very determined, Eru."
"Doesn't our whole conversation kind of disprove that?"
"A waterfall doesn't flow smoothly down the cliffside. Even you have to have doubts."
"Even me?" She pouts a little. "Is it surprising that I do?"
"What was it that Fukube-san and Mayaka-san would tease you about? Being perfect?" Kaho raises her eyebrows. "Your reputation as a model heiress precedes you."
"Ugh." Eru puts her head in her palm. "Please don't."
"Speaking of." Kaho reaches out to poke her. "You've been avoiding them. Mayaka-san keeps asking if I've seen you.
Eru shoots up so fast it's a wonder nothing in her spine cracks. "She does?"
"The last time, Fukube-san was with her and I've never seen him look so serious."
"Oh, no! I didn't mean to avoid them. Just," Pure guilt bleeds into her voice. Kaho's phone chimes in her pocket. "I was feeling so anxious, I didn't want to be awkward around them. The club wasn't going to meet again until the next semester, so I thought they wouldn't notice too much."
Kaho looks at her phone and blanches. The wholehearted discomfort in every pixelated letter washes over her, spanning kilometers. "Uh—they've definitely noticed."
"I hope I haven't worried them too much"
She looks up from her screen, smiling tightly. "You hope in vain, Eru."
"Hm?"
"Oreki-san texted me."
"What?"
"He's asking after you."
"What?"
Kaho shows Eru her phone, and the reflection widens with Eru's eyes. Houtarou Oreki has sent her two messages. The first to apologize for disrupting her day, and the second to ask, having remembered that Eru frequented her shrine around this time of year, if she was planning on going.
"Are you," Eru gets out, after a long minute. "Are you close with Houtarou-san?"
"Not at all." Kaho says.
Eru keeps looking between her and the screen, her eyes spun glass.
"I don't know if this is enough for love, either," Kaho offers. "But it must be pretty close to it, right?"
future – wheel of fortune (change)
"Chi-chan, if you were stressed you should've told us," says Mayaka Ibara, grasping Eru's hands. Kaho sets another cup down on the table, trying to hide her amusement. "I thought you were mad at me, or Oreki."
"Why would you think Chitanda would be mad at me?"
"Why wouldn't she be? You're infuriating half of the time."
Houtarou Oreki rolls his eyes, ignoring the face Mayaka makes at him. Satoshi pokes him in the arm. "Hey, how'd you get Jūmonji-san's phone number, anyway?"
"We were in a research project group together, last term." Kaho interjects, sparing him. "I was surprised. You never seemed comfortable sending texts."
"Ibara made me." Houtarou says plainly. Mayaka promptly elbows him in the gut. "But it seemed serious." He looks away from everyone. "I was worried."
Eru flushes, but Kaho sees how her eyes shine at him. Out the doorway in the distance, the milky evening sun is dipping behind the trees. Along the path to the shrine, a worker is lighting lanterns; soon the air will be full of noise and color and life, people's prayers rising like embers to warm the breeze.
It's only been a few hours since the rest of the Classics Club had arrived, exclaiming when Kaho and Eru had appeared at the entrance to greet them. Standing to the side, Kaho had watched Mayaka swing Eru around, looking close to tears, Satoshi laughing with his hands on her shoulders. She hadn't noticed Houtarou until he greeted her, looking like he was already exhausted with it all.
They'd stood there on the steps, quiet as Eru answered all of Mayaka's questions, her giggles light. Out of the corner of her eye, Kaho could see how Houtarou watched them, his sleepy eyes bright with that wonderful, blazing fondness she'd seen a year ago, that he'd never been quite able to hide. No, he wasn't avoiding anything. At some point, he'd started taking steps, little by little, walking forward.
"She's back to herself again." He'd said to her, still looking at their friends. "I'm glad."
Kaho nodded. "So am I."
Houtarou glanced at her, a blush forming on his face. "Thank you. It must've been strange, hearing about all of it."
"Not at all. It was an interesting conversation, and Eru's my friend. I want to help in any way I can." Kaho shook her head. "She's already thanked me a couple hundred times, anyways. You're covered."
He huffed. "Of course."
Kaho had grinned, turned her body to face him. Houtarou noticed and furrowed his brows at her, his face puzzled. Despite his drowsiness, his shoulders were set, back straighter than she remembered. There was no doubt there.
"Oreki-san," Kaho lifted her chin, raising a fist. "Stand firm."
Houtarou blinked slowly at her. "O—okay."
Now, hours later, Kaho snaps her eyes away from the doorway just in time to see Eru tilt her head. "By the way, why are we in here again?"
"Yeah, actually," Satoshi agrees. He gasps, points at Houtarou. "Don't tell me you drew another kyō, Houtarou?"
"No. And don't just go around saying that, idiot." He looks archly at Mayaka. "Why are we in here, Ibara?"
Mayaka scowls. "It's tradition. We've done it every year now. At least this time we aren't freezing to death."
"Actually, only Chitanda-san and Houtarou have been in here every year. But," Satoshi puts his hands up in surrender, Mayaka's finger in his face. "It's a lot nicer this time. When did you install a light, Jūmonji-san?"
"At the beginning of this year, actually." Kaho looks up. The single lightbulb hangs from the ceiling of the shed, casting everything in a happy, orange glow. The heater they'd dragged into a corner toasts her back. "Some of our employees complained about how hard it was to see inside, so," she turns her palms up. "We thought it was time. There's just this one bulb, though. This is still just a shed."
"Yes," Houtarou says stiffly. "So I really don't understand why you insist on making this a habit."
"It's okay." Eru laughs gently, putting a hand on his arm. "I think it's kind of cozy."
"It's ridiculous—"
"See, Chi-chan respects tradition. Honestly, with that attitude, we won't have to guess what kind of fortune you'll get this year—"
Ah, Kaho thinks, so this is what it is. The four of them, her classmates, her friends. They're all so brilliant, vivid glowing afterimages in her periphery, in a way she could never have ignored. She pushes her glasses up to see them better, the Classics Club, still loud and lovely, wrapped in springtime and possibility and joy. They've pushed themselves past all the edges in her field of view, and she supposes she'll let them stay, this time.
She doesn't want to look away.
"Jūmonji-san, do you have your tarot deck with you?" Satoshi asks. "I almost forgot, I wanted to ask for a reading. Houtarou, you should get one too."
Houtarou shrugs. "Sure?"
"Yeah." Mayaka grins. "Maybe we can find out why you always have terrible luck."
"Is it okay, Kaho-san?" Eru turns her prismatic eyes on her. "I'm a little curious, too."
Kaho smiles. "It's no problem at all."
~fin~
A/N: Kaho Jūmonji is 1) wonderful, 2) cool and mysterious, and 3) a great way to depict the Classics Club using a different but still tangential perspective from what we get in the anime and light novels. In this essay, I will—
Anyway. My desire to write Kaho's POV + my desire to explore how Eru might have typical high school student hopes and fears about her future in a way that is still true to her somewhat self-imposed role as the Chitanda heir = this introspective chunk of prose (I recently read the Even Though I'm Told I Now Have Wings light novel story and I think I succeeded in exploring Eru's insecurities ? :D ). Also, a reason to write Kaho x other club members interactions? Say less.
Please please check out all the wonderful pieces in the It's Already Spring zine, I'm truly honored to have been able to work alongside so many amazing people whose years and years of Hyouka content helped inspire me to start writing in the first place! It's free to download at hyoukazine dot com dot co!
Here's to another 10 years of Hyouka!
Also on Ao3 (at wild_and_free)
Thanks for reading!
