Sometimes reality feels like a shared fever dream. I mean does anything ever actually feel real?

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Orienteering is a competitive sport that involves passing through established checkpoints and reaching the goal within a time limit. Indeed, it is a sport.

I didn't care much for traditional sports. I liked esports but this wasn't that. I thought esports were the future. I tended to believe that we are closer to the beginning of video games than the end of video games. Just like how we're closer to the beginning of the universe than the end of the universe.

The original version of the sport, which involved sprinting around with a map and compass, seemed like relatively serious business. But on this occasion, the elementary schoolers were doing recreational orienteering, not the serious version. They walked around the mountain in small groups, answered quizzes at the checkpoints written on their maps, and competed for the best time and number of correct answers.

I recalled answering the questions for my own little groups back when I did this sort of thing. My peers didn't listen to me and got the questions wrong. Well, that serves them right. I was the sort of person to get right answers on quizzes as a general rule.

The plateau was cool even now during midsummer, and every time the wind blew, the leaves rustled in the air. Since we weren't participating or anything, we headed straight for the goal. As we looked around for the signs, we came across elementary schoolers sticking small papers on each other's foreheads in an attempt to solve a puzzle.

More than anything, they seemed to be having fun. Which was good for them and the point all things considered. It didn't really matter that we weren't or at least I wasn't. I'd be having fun in a dark room all alone by myself. Alone with the internet that was. So alone but not really truly alone.

Hayama and Miura were having a good time. Every time they spotted an elementary schooler, they called out 'Good luck!' or 'The goal's waiting!' or something. They were thoroughly playing the part of volunteers. When Hayama did that kind of thing, it honestly felt natural, but when Miura did it, it was kind of surprising. She wasn't the same natural sort Hayama was.

"Hey, hey, Hayato. I really like kids way more than I thought. Aren't kids super cute?"

What was with girls asking about kids? Yui asked me about kids on the drive up here. Was it just a girl thing? I wasn't sure. It could just be the 'I'm cute because I'm squealing about something cute' appeal. Cute by association. I didn't really find kids cute so I didn't get it. Association didn't quite work like that for me. Maybe Hayama was different? Who could say?

When Hayama and Miura got into the habit of calling out to the kids, Tobe, Ebina‐ san, Saika and Yui also started indirectly striking up conversations with them. What sociable young men and women. And to top it off, the kids instantly buddied up to them the moment they saw the display.

We bumped into such groups often, but it felt like we met the same kids two or three times. Since I wasn't looking too closely or making conversation, I didn't remember them very well. Seriously, it was hard to tell those elementary schoolers apart. They were all equally cheerful and noisy, and the only impression they left on me was that they seemed to be enjoying themselves.

When the road broke off to the side, we came across a group of five girls.

They were an especially cheerful, lively bunch. Being girls, they were fashion‐ conscious, and they chattered loudly in a girly sort of way. I got the feeling that when these types of girls went on to middle school, they'd probably become the socialites. They were the unhatched riajuu, so to speak.

It seemed that for these sorts of girls, high school students – particularly the flashy ones like Hayama and Miura – were objects of admiration. They needed no prompting to talk to us. The girls approached us with an almost man‐to‐man‐like offense. Alas, no one came near Yukinoshita or me, as you'd expect. We just gave off that aura I suppose.

When I listened to their conversation, they started things off with a greeting, before launching into a discussion about fashion and sports and middle school and whatnot. They carried on the conversation as they walked along with us, searching for the checkpoint as they did so.

"Fine, we'll help you out just for this one. But keep this a secret from the others, okay?" Hayama said, prompting the girls to respond eagerly.

Sharing a secret. I suppose that was one way to get along. I preferred real secrets. Ancient knowledge and future revelations were my cup of tea. I once spent an afternoon just plotting pythagorean triplets. You really only had to look along the prime numbers. There they were again. The prime numbers always came up. Always. They were mysterious. They truly were one of the inner mysteries I was concerned with.

I glanced at the group. Something bothered me. Most groups were either tightly knit or loosely connected into one group even as they were divided into subgroups. However, I could see something irregular in this particular group.

It was a group of five, and only one of the girls was trailing two whole steps behind the others.

She had strong, slender and supple limbs and black hair tinged with violet streaks. Compared to the other girls, she gave off a somewhat mature impression. Her feminine clothes were also more refined than those around her. Frankly speaking, I'd say she was more than cute enough already. She was an eye‐catching girl compared to the others.

Even so, nobody seemed to care very much that only she was trailing behind.

No, they did realise it, I was convinced. Every once in a while, I noticed the other four girls looking over their shoulders and stifling soft snickers amongst each other.

The one‐meter distance between the girls showed no sign of closing. To the onlooker's eye, they came across as the same group, not as something unnatural. But in the film undetectable by the human eye, an invisible wall stood between them.

Yukinoshita and I shared a look. I gave her a slight nod. I'd seen it too. She sighed heavily. She looked down at the group and shuffled a little to the side as she walked. She'd caught on to this abnormality as well.

Well, not like it was a bad thing, really. One ought to experience loneliness at least once or twice in life. No, you have to experience it. The idea of being chained to another person without reprieve is far more abnormal and disquieting. One has no choice but to learn about loneliness. I'm sure some things can't be experienced without it.

If there are things you learn with friends, there must also be things you learn without friends. They must be of equal worth, two sides of the same coin.

So this moment also brought something of value to this girl. In my conviction, I pretended not to know anything. It was none of my business.

But, y'know, plenty of people out there don't think the same way.

"Did you find the checkpoint?" someone called out to the girl. It was Hayama.

"…no," she replied with a troubled smile.

Hayama answered her with an easygoing smile. "I see. Then let's look for it together. What's your name?"

"Tsurumi Rumi," she said falteringly.

"I'm Hayama Hayato; pleased to meet you. You think it might be hidden over there?" Hayama said as he patted Rumi on the back and pointed the way.

"You see that?" I said. "He's smooth as hell. He just casually asked her name."

"I saw. It was a feat you'll never achieve in your life," Yukinoshita said, her voice thick with ridicule. I granted her a slight chuckle. It was largely true. "Although I wouldn't call it a particularly good way of doing things."

Yukinoshita was right. Hayama knew but he didn't understand. It was a subtle thing. Like the Fredholm alternative or the proof of Godel's incompleteness theorem. He was riajuu. He recognized there was a problem but his solution was orthogonal. He couldn't include her for the other girls. He was a poor substitute for friends her own age.

As Rumi followed Hayama, she ended up square in the middle of her group. But she didn't look too pleased. Just like before, her gaze was directed at no one, boring into the gap between the trees and the small rocks on the path instead.

Rumi wasn't the only one who didn't look too pleased.

They didn't ignore her flagrantly. They didn't show their feelings openly by clicking their tongues, nor did they kick the ground in frustration. They showed no sign of blaming her for intruding.

But I could tell just from the atmosphere. What did it say that I was even able to tell with all my social shortcomings? Hayama should know. He just didn't quite get it. How could he?

The enmity grew without any need for heated words. It was non‐verbal, non‐ physical, passive aggression. It was oppression.

Yukinoshita let slip a resigned sigh. "No surprises there…"

"So that sort of thing happens in elementary school too," I said. It was fascinating to observe from the outside in a sort of sick way.

Yukinoshita sent me a sideway glance. "It's no different for elementary schoolers or high schoolers. We're all equally human, after all."

I gave her a long look which she met for a moment before she broke and looked away. I raised an appraising eyebrow. So this is what Yukinoshita's own childhood consisted of. How sad and lonely. If she were like me she never would have really felt excluded until she grew older. And even then she'd have been able to find solace in her own mind and soul. I did. It took me time and a lot of effort but I grew comfortable with my own loneliness and built a palace out of it. I had the internet. I had my figures and whatnots. Yukinoshita didn't. This girl, Rumi, didn't.

"It doesn't have to be like that," I murmured.

"No?" Yukinoshita asked.

"Not for you. Not anymore," I pronounced. "You have Yui."

"Oh is that all?"

"You also have me. I'm not much. But I exist. And you and I care about one another."

She glanced away again. "Do we really?"

"Yes." I affirmed with a nod. And it was true. We did.

Yukinoshita wouldn't look at me. We left the girls behind once we helped them find the next sign.

When I looked back over my shoulder, Rumi was disappearing into the shadow of the trees, exactly one step behind all the others.

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For lunch we set out pears for dessert and juice boxes and sandwiches. Yukinoshita got into competition with me on cutting up the pears. She won. Quite easily. I didn't care too much. I had a little cooking skill unlike Yui who botched her pears. Then came dinner time and with it curry.

Curry was an absolute staple of camping. It was easy and required a little fire so it made sense.

To start things off, Hiratsuka‐sensei was lighting the teachers' fire on coals, which would serve as a model for the elementary schoolers.

"For starters, I'll show you a demonstration." No sooner did she say that than she started stacking up the coal. She had placed a firelighter and some dishevelled newspaper clippings below that. The moment she ignited the fire, the newspaper clippings burst into flames.

Just as I thought she'd shift the flame to the coals and fan it awhile with a paper fan, she seemed to decide that was too tedious for her and suddenly splashed salad oil over the fire.

I winced. That was seriously dangerous. And she showed children that? I mean honestly…

Cheers and shrieks and bored mumbles arose. Yet an unperturbed Hiratsuka‐ sensei pulled out a cigarette from somewhere and held it in her mouth, a nihilistic grin on her face. With the cigarette sticking out of her mouth, she brought her face close to the fire and inhaled deeply.

She moved her face away and let out a long, satisfied sigh. "That's more or less how you do it."

"You seem ridiculously used to this," I pointed out.

With a somewhat faraway look in her eyes, Hiratsuka‐sensei explained. "Heh, I used to do this all the time when I did the barbeques for my university club. While I was lighting the fire, the couples would get all touchy feely." She scowled. "Now I'm in a bad mood."

Well sorry sensei. But you couldn't exactly fault the guys at her university. Hiratsuka-sensei was a touch intimidating. I was intimidated. Who said I wasn't?

"The boys will prepare the fires while the girls bring over the ingredients," she said as walked away with the girls. Was some bitterness over her past slipping into her motive for splitting up the kids here? Was she all right?

Saika, Hayama, Tobe, and I remained.

I fanned the flames of a fire on my knees. I preferred colder climates and sweated close to the fire. I managed to prevail and keep the flames high anyways.

"Looks hot…" Saika called out, sounding concerned for me.

It was. It was fire after all. I shrugged absently in response. I could handle a little displeasure. I was in existential agony all the time. Plus I had my hallucinations. A hot iron in the foot or spikes in the eye. I could tolerate a little heat. I wasn't a tough man man manly man but I could do this enough.

Plateaus are supposed to be cool, but it was still midsummer. Working right beside the fire caused the sweat to drip liberally off me. Maybe Saika noticed because he said, "I'll get some drinks for everyone."

That was nice of him.

That prompted Tobe to follow him. "If you're getting one for everyone, I'll help out, yo." Contrary to my expectations, he might be a nice guy. That or maybe it was chivalry, not wanting to make Totsuka carry heavy things with his slender arms. Ahem. Go forth and complete this task in my stead.

That just left me and Hayama.

"…"

Pata pata pata pata.

"…"

Pata pata pata pata.

I turned off my emotions and focused on nothing but fanning, free from obstructive thoughts. After a while, it became fun to watch the pitch black coals steadily become tinged with red.

Only, my eyes began to water from the heat in the fire and the sky. When I rubbed my eyes with my cotton gloves and lifted my face, my gaze met with Hayama's. That meant that he had been looking at me. If Ebina we're here, we'd be in trouble.

"…what?" I asked.

"Oh, it's nothing," Hayama said evasively.

Silence.

Without stopping my work, I glared in Hayama's direction. That prompted Hayama to open his mouth and utter those slippery words again.

"Really, it's nothing."

"You doth protest too much," I disagreed. Nobody who had nothing on their minds was so insistent that they had nothing on their minds.

As I was performing the rather irritating action of glaring at Hayama every five seconds, Hayama shrugged and spoke up resignedly.

"…Hikitani‐kun, about Yukinoshita..."

"What about her?" I wondered.

"She seems to trust you a lot."

"We bond over a common enemy." Me. He winced. He might have thought I was referring to him. I wasn't. I don't think Yukinoshita cared about him. I shook my head. "Not you. Not what you're thinking."

"Who then? Miura?"

"No. Our common enemy is yours truly. We both generally dislike me and have fun at my expense."

"So how do you feel about her?"

"We seem to care about one another. I'm not sure I'd say we were friends. Not like Yui and I. Or Yui and her."

"Are you perhaps more than friends?"

I laughed and shook my head dismissively. "No. Nothing like that. I'm not the sort to be more than friends with a girl like her. Our relationship is a little complicated and confuses me sometimes but we aren't more than friends for sure. We're probably barely friends if that. I think she'd be sad if I died but otherwise…" I shrugged.

"Otherwise?" He asked.

"That's pretty much it. She'd miss me if I died. I think she'd consider it a personal attack on her abilities."

"I see…" I could tell he didn't really. Mostly because I didn't really get it myself. My relationship with Yukinoshita was unique. I'd never experienced anything like it. She assured me we weren't friends then went out of her way to care about me. I wasn't quite sure how to feel about it. To be honest it made my skin crawl but no more than Yui getting close to me. If not for Hiratsuka-sensei's words about Yukinoshita caring about me then I'm not sure where I'd be in terms of thinking about Yukinoshita. It made everything strange and orthogonal.

"What about you and Miura?" I asked.

"What about me and Miura?" He wondered. "We're just friends. Not unlike yourself and Yui."

I shrugged absently. Yui was one of the first people to genuinely give a shit about me and my condition other than my little sister who I knew was looking out for me in her own little ways. And some big ways too probably.

"Well maybe you seem closer to Yui," he pointed out. I shrugged again.

"Yui cares about people. She's nice. I count her as a friend but then it seems like she gets on with everybody in our class. She even gets along well with Yukinoshita for god's sake."

"Is that really something special?"

"They hang out. They like cooking together, I understand. I'm not sure Yukinoshita ever had something like that before Yui. I think what they have is nice."

"I suppose it is. They seem pretty close."

I smiled softly thinking of Yui sleeping on Yukinoshita's shoulder the whole way here.

"Do you… do you think Yukinoshita likes girls?" Hayama asked me.

"Huh?" My brain lagged like a Dell laptop at his words. "Um. I haven't seen any evidence of that. But then again I haven't seen any evidence she likes guys. I think Yui and her are just friends."

"Right. I guess that makes sense."

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Hachiman." Saika pressed a chilled paper cup against my cheek. My heart jumped at the cold sensation compared to the heat of the fire.

When I looked up, Saika had a pure, innocent smile on his face, happy that he'd successfully pulled off his prank. He was panting a little as if he'd hurried back. His flushed cheeks were so adorable. If you exchanged his cuteness for heavenliness, that would bolster his angelic qualities even further.

My heart was pounding heavily as it usually did in these situations. I fought to contain my alarm. Eventually, I came to my senses and mustered a quiet murmur. 'Thanks Saika."

"…I'll take over," Hayama suggested, flashing a smile.

Since he was so nice and all, I took him up on his offer to switch places. I passed him the fan and took off my cotton gloves before taking the barley tea from Totsuka. "'kay, I'll leave the rest to you." I paused. "So what were you talking about before?"

"I'll tell you later." Instead of being offended, Hayama smiled brightly and turned back to the fire. He started fanning. Pata pata. Weird but okay. I resolved not to think about it too much. That way leads to madness. Not that I wasn't mad but the point still stood.

I sat down on the sun‐baked bench and drank my tea, resting like a stereotypical senior citizen.

That was when the girls returned.

Noticing how the preparations for the fire were thoroughly under control, Miura let out a shout of delight. "Hayama, you're the greatest!" she sang.

"Oh, you're right. Hayato‐kun is the outdoors‐type!" Ebina chimed in with great admiration.

Then, the sideway glances were on me. I didn't particularly care what they thought.

"Hikitani‐kun pretty much did all the work," Hayama pointed out. Wow, what a casual interjection.

"Hikki, you worked hard. Here you go." Yui, who had come back with Miura and the others, handed me a face‐washing paper towel. There was no trace of sarcasm in her voice.

"Ah, Hachiman, you really did work hard! Really, you did," Totsuka insisted as he clenched his fists tightly against his chest. Come to think of it, it would only look like I was avoiding work if you had just walked in.

"I could totally tell. Hikki, you've got this weird serious look in your eyes." Yui burst out laughing.

Behind her, Yukinoshita peered at my face. "Besides, you can tell by looking. Stop wiping your face with your gloves. It's unseemly," she said as if she had been watching me this whole time.

Ah, so I'd dirtied my face. Understanding now the purpose of Yui's face‐ washing towel, I helped myself to it gratefully.

"…thanks," I murmured absently.

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-WG