At Ryōō High School, the classrooms were as spacious as a small office, each containing a total of forty desks perfectly aligned. The main difference was that none of them bore a golden, illustrious nameplate. No, before earning one—if it could even be considered a prize—students would have to work hard for a few more years. Only upon graduating from university and stepping into the competitive workforce that awaited them could they hope for a nameplate in some office. For now, everything in that place belonged to the austere school principal, who did display the famed nameplate—but in his office, where only a few unfortunate students would catch a glimpse of it during the school year.
Even with all this, students still had the freedom to choose a seat at the beginning of the year. Once claimed, no one would move them from their spot. Some had even occupied the same seat for years, as if their names were inscribed there anyway. That's why, whenever someone was absent—no matter the reason—their absence was immediately noticeable: the desk remained empty until their return.
Something similar happened during recess. As soon as the bell rang, everyone moved in unison, like a swarm of ants, toward their usual spots, following routes they knew by heart and trusting that no one would take the place they had already claimed. The only exception was the first-year students, who, for obvious reasons, tended to venture a little beyond their comfort zone.
Yutaka and her group of friends—Minami, Hiyori, and Patricia—were no exception to this invisible rule. Now, at the end of the school year, they could finally say with pride that they had found a place where they felt at home. For the past couple of months, they could always be found in the high school's back courtyard, on one of the wide edges near the soccer field, close to the communal washing station. Strangely enough, despite its strategic location, hardly anyone ever used it.
The decision to settle there had been Yutaka's idea. She had never quite gotten used to the deathly silence of the library, which Minami loved so much, nor to the noisy bustle of the cafeteria, where Hiyori was in her element. She couldn't stand the tedium of staying in the same classroom they already spent the entire year in either, as Patricia often suggested—insisting that it was "the most radical thing ever," whatever that was supposed to mean.
It was no surprise, then, that her suggestion took everyone aback and, at first, convinced no one. The place was too out of the way, too rustic, and didn't seem to match any of their tastes.
However, that very peculiarity was what won them over in the end. It was neither too quiet nor overwhelmingly noisy, and the proximity to the sports club made it "the most radical thing ever"—whatever that was supposed to mean. The steady breeze that swept through the area was a relief, especially on hot summer days. From then on, whenever they had free time, they would gather there, settling on a bench beneath the generous shade of one of the outer structures, right next to the fence that enclosed the soccer field.
Well past noon, the quirky group was finishing up their lunch, laughing and chatting as usual. Everything seemed to be going normally—until Yutaka spotted Konata appearing on the horizon. The piece of melonpan she was still chewing got stuck in her throat, and in an instant, the situation spiraled into chaos. Alarmed, her friends rushed to help: Minami hastily offered her juice box, while Patricia and Hiyori, wasting no time, were already locked in a heated debate over who should perform the Heimlich maneuver.
Upon hearing this, Yutaka sprang to her feet so suddenly that the juice slipped from her hands, taking the piece of melonpan lodged in her throat with it. Knowing her friends, she was certain that if they tried to help, they'd end up breaking a rib or something even worse.
Although the coughing wouldn't subside and she still felt short of breath, what worried her most was keeping her friends from having a bad time. Summoning her strength, she hurriedly excused herself, saying she was going to the bathroom and asking them not to worry if she took longer than usual. In reality, she couldn't waste another second. The urgency of catching up to her cousin burned hotter than her throat. She knew that, despite her shortcomings, Konata's agility was on par with her sister's. If she lost even another moment giving explanations, it would be too late for all of them.
Without saying another word and ignoring her friends' pleas to go with her, Yutaka turned around and took off running. She did her best, though the persistent itch in her throat and her terrible physical condition made every stride a real struggle. In the distance, the only thing she could make out was her cousin's blue hair billowing in the wind—and with it, a stern expression that became more pronounced with every meter she closed.
Luckily for her—otherwise, she would have already caught up—Konata had stopped halfway upon noticing Yutaka heading her way. She stood at the edge of the field, hands on her hips, wearing an expression impossible to decipher. Yutaka swallowed hard, easing the itch in her throat slightly. But when she realized that, after all, the reason for her cousin's visit did have something to do with her, a tight knot formed in her chest. With no other choice, she quickened her pace, silently praying it wasn't anything serious.
After what felt like an eternity, she finally caught up.
"K-K-Konata? D-Did something happen?" she asked, trying to sound calm, though her voice came out shaky and breathless. It had been a long time since she had run so hard (not for nothing was she one of the worst students in PE), but the urgency of finding out why Konata had come to see her had pushed her to do it. It was strange for her cousin to come looking for her; considering they saw each other every day, only something truly urgent could justify such an unexpected appearance.
Konata didn't answer right away. Her eyes scanned Yutaka with a piercing gaze, while the latter's uneven panting shattered the heavy silence that had settled between them. The situation... deeply unsettled her. Even more disturbing was the fact that she couldn't see her cousin's face; her eyes were fixed on the ground, on her once-shiny black shoes, now covered by a thick layer of dust.
Hunched over with exhaustion, Yutaka kept gasping for air, almost as if she were begging for the visit to be nothing unpleasant, wishing her reaction had simply been an overreaction. But over the past month, and though it pained her to admit it, there was one word that described Konata perfectly: unbearable.
"Can you at least have the decency to look me in the face, kid!?"
As if she'd been struck with a whip, Yutaka's back straightened instantly, and with that, the little hope she had crumbled away. Despite everything, she tried to keep her composure—she took a deep breath, forcing herself to appear calm, and with a quick motion, placed her hands behind her back to stop herself from slouching again. However, her legs betrayed her, trembling not only from the effort she had exerted but also because she knew what was coming.
"L-Look, I'm sorry… It's just… I choked a little earlier, and running so fast after that wasn't a great idea. Also… I…"
"That doesn't matter, Yutaka!"
The shout struck her again, shaking her small body even more and forcing her to shut her eyes. For a second, she considered keeping them closed, afraid that if she opened them, a stray tear might slip down her cheek. It hurt so much to be treated this way, but she knew that looking away would only make Konata even angrier. With visible effort, she cracked her eyes open and, before they could betray her, quickly rubbed them with one of her forearms. Then, she lifted her gaze and locked eyes with those intense green irises that continued to judge her.
"I want you to tell me what the hell you were thinking when you said all those things!"
Yutaka furrowed her brows, now completely bewildered.
What… what do you mean…?
Her lips trembled, but she quickly realized that asking wouldn't get her anywhere. Konata wouldn't give her a straight answer; she just wasn't thinking clearly these days. Left with no other choice, she took a deep breath and stepped forward, determined to handle the problem from a different angle.
"Konata…" Her tone, though hesitant at first, gradually gained strength. "What did I do this time? Why do you always have to take it out on me whenever something doesn't go your way? It's not fair! I've never done anything to hurt you, you know that? Never!"
After that, Yutaka's expression shifted entirely. Her once gentle gaze hardened as she watched Konata, waiting for an answer that never came. Konata averted her eyes, and the subtle grimaces she made—perhaps without even realizing—irked Yutaka more than she could comprehend.
"I'm sick of this, Konata! Sick of your attitude, sick of you treating me badly for no reason… If you keep this up, I'll talk to my mom. Maybe… maybe it'd be best if I just went back home if my presence bothers you that much."
For a moment, her words seemed to crack through Konata's armor. Her face softened, revealing a fleeting hint of doubt… maybe even regret. Yutaka almost allowed herself to believe that was enough to make her stop. But something else was boiling inside her, something she couldn't hold back, even though she knew this wasn't the time or place to say it.
"This is about Yui, isn't it?" she went on. "I know you're hurting over what happened. I am too, Konata, but you can't keep going on like this. Running away from reality won't change anything—it only hurts you more. Don't you see you're also hurting the people around you? The ones who care about you? Things aren't always—"
"Shut up!... Just shut up!"
Konata's shout rang out with such force that the noise from the nearby sports club fell silent for a brief moment. A few heads turned their way, drawn by the commotion. Feeling uneasy under their gaze, Yutaka forced a small smile in their direction. She raised a nervous hand, hoping to reassure them, to silently convey that everything was fine. But before she could complete the gesture, Konata—completely lost in her bitterness—suddenly closed the distance between them, lowering her arm and gripping her wrist.
"Don't give me that stupid speech again!" she snapped, yanking Yutaka closer so she couldn't look away. "You've repeated it over and over, and I can't stand it anymore!"
The situation had grown so uncomfortable that, after a few murmurs, the club members decided to move elsewhere to continue their practice in peace, leaving the cousins isolated in the midst of their tense confrontation. The silence that remained felt just as unbearable for both of them, yet it proved to be a necessary evil.
Only then, in the midst of that oppressive void, did Konata realize how unsteady her breathing was. Struggling to regain control of her emotions, she noticed that she was still gripping Yutaka tightly. Her hold wavered slightly before loosening completely. With a weary sigh, she let her arm fall to her side.
Yutaka rubbed her wrist, casting a furtive glance at her cousin. Despite the reddish mark left on her skin, she felt nothing. Or rather, what she felt was somewhere else, buried deeper, in a place Konata seemed determined to wound even further. She no longer knew what to think of her. The person standing before her felt unrecognizable, and that distance stirred a suffocating sense of loneliness within her.
She tried to find solace in the idea that this was all just a mistake, that Konata wasn't truly like this. But she had endured this unfair treatment for over a month now, and this was the last straw. Konata grabbing her wrist with such force should have been the final sign—the moment she followed through on her words. She would call her mom and tell her she was coming home that very afternoon… and yet, something held her back. Perhaps it was naive hope, or maybe the fear of leaving her alone in this state.
With tears welling up in her eyes, Yutaka took one last look at Konata, desperately searching for any trace of the person she remembered—the cousin she loved so much. But all she found was an unfamiliar expression, weighed down by restrained anger… and sorrow.
It was too much.
The knot in her throat tightened until it hurt, and when she could no longer hold it in, her frustration and grief spilled out in words.
"D-Do you really think this will fix anything?" she blurted out, her voice trembling yet filled with frustration. "Yui never taught you to treat people like this… not me, not anyone!" Her tone wavered for a moment, but she held firm as she added, "If she saw you now, she would be so disappointed..."
Konata blinked, and for a moment, she seemed to hesitate, as if those words had struck her deeply—but the feeling lasted only a breath. All the tension that had been building finally found its release. She stepped in front of Yutaka, furious, and with a defiant gesture, jabbed her finger against Yutaka's chest, pressing harder than she had intended.
"I've told you a thousand times, Yutaka, and you still don't get it! This has nothing to do with Yui! Stop dragging her into everything I say or do! I don't care what that woman does anymore, do you hear me? This is about you, Yutaka. Your damn habit of trying to fix everything. You always have to meddle; you always have to have an opinion!"
"Ouch! You're hurting me, not so hard!" Yutaka protested, feeling the tears start to slide down her cheeks. "Enough!" she shouted, exhausted by Konata's attitude, and slapped her hand away with a sharp smack that echoed in both their ears. "You say it like it has nothing to do with me, like I'm just some stranger! But of course it's my business—she's my sister, and you've hurt her! And as if that weren't enough, I always have to be stuck in the middle, putting up with everything between you two, because you're both just as stubborn. How can you not see how ungrateful you are? You've had her all to yourself for years, and now that she's leaving—because that's how life works—you're acting like you're six years old again! This is just too much!"
Konata clenched her teeth so hard that pain began radiating from her jaw. The worst part was that, deep down, she knew Yutaka was right, and that only fueled her anger. It wasn't just wounded pride, nor the fact that her younger cousin showed a maturity and composure she lacked. What truly consumed her was waking up every morning to face a reality she hated: she hadn't chosen for Yui to leave like this, so suddenly. After a lifetime together, the feeling of abandonment was unbearable. She couldn't help but feel betrayed by one of the people she loved most, someone she had always trusted to be by her side.
Why did it have to end this way? What had she done wrong? Why did everyone expect her to just accept it, to be fine with seeing Yui only once a year—and if she was really lucky, maybe twice? It was absurd!
Konata grasped for anything—any excuse, no matter how ridiculous—to justify herself. But that was the problem: there was nothing. Just a swelling frustration that choked her words, leaving only agitated grunts in their place. She had walked straight into her own trap. She hadn't meant to let things spiral like this, hadn't expected to lose her grip while trying to "talk" to Yutaka. Yet here she was—breath unsteady, barely keeping herself together, and with a searing pressure in her chest that only grew worse. This wasn't what she wanted. Not like this.
But what was it that she wanted? she wondered, clenching her fists tightly.
Maybe she should have thought things through before jumping in so recklessly, but it was far too late for that. Did she really expect Yutaka to fix the mess she herself had made with her friends? No… Or maybe she wanted her to force Yui to come back? Perhaps. Even though she knew how ridiculous that was.
Suddenly, a thought struck like lightning: Was that what really hurt? That Yutaka had said goodbye, and she hadn't? If that was the case, she had no one to blame but herself. It had been her choice to stay silent, to let the moment slip away without a word… while Yutaka, on the other hand, had done the opposite. With warmth, with sincerity, she had wished Yui the best. She had been everything Konata wasn't—standing there in the open, while she remained hidden in the shadows of that station, unable to step forward. That memory still burned inside her, fueling a suffocating anger… and an unbearable shame.
Yutaka had done what was expected of her—what a good sister would do.
And her?
What was expected of her?
What was Yui to her, exactly?
The answer was obvious: just her older cousin, nothing more.
Konata shut her eyes tightly, dissatisfied with her own thoughts, trying to find another answer because something inside her told her there was more. But no matter how hard she searched, she couldn't figure it out… or maybe she could, but she was afraid to admit it.
One way or another, the only thing she knew for sure was that she had become an ungrateful person. She suspected that ignoring Yui's messages and calls at first had only made things worse, and now, the fact that she wasn't even trying to reach out anymore was proof of how upset she really was. Last night, in a moment of weakness, she had tried calling her, but the silence she got in return was so painful that she couldn't even sleep.
The cold sweat on her nape made her shiver. Konata brought her hands to her head and let it drop in resignation. Thinking was becoming more and more exhausting. She was drained, and the only thing she truly needed was a shoulder to cry on, someone to lean on. Yet instead of seeking comfort, she had stubbornly chosen to pick fights with anyone who crossed her path.
No matter how hard she tried, Yutaka simply couldn't understand her. Konata kept shutting herself off, pushing her away every time she tried to reach out, and as if that wasn't enough, she always ended up taking it out on her. To her eyes, it was just another one of her usual tantrums whenever she heard something she didn't like, and that attitude was starting to wear her patience thin. Why did it always have to be this way? She sighed in frustration and crossed her arms, watching her with a mix of confusion and irritation as she waited for her to finally stop acting like a spoiled child.
"Aren't you going to say anything?" Yutaka snapped, her voice shaking with anger and unshed tears. "Are you really just going to stand there, silent, playing the victim again?"
"I-I…" Konata tried to speak, but her voice broke before she could string together a coherent sentence. The apology caught in her throat, heavy and suffocating. If she said it out loud, if she truly admitted it, there would be no more pretending that none of this hurt. And she wasn't sure if she could handle that.
Her gaze drifted to Yutaka's dust-covered shoes, as if searching for something there—anything—that could give her the courage to face her shame. With her head bowed the entire time, this was her way of admitting defeat. Of expressing, without words, that Yutaka should just leave her alone. A silent apology, wrapped in shattered pride.
But Yutaka didn't understand. She remained there, unmoving, waiting for something more. Something that never came.
"First, you yell at me for not looking you in the eye, and now you can't even look at mine…" Yutaka sighed, struggling to keep her voice steady, though it wavered with barely contained anger. "I see you only came here to waste my time!"
A sharp pang shot through Konata's chest, forcing her fists to clench even tighter—so much that her nails dug into her palms. For a moment, she felt the urge to raise them, to retaliate, to shout… but she stopped herself. Her trembling hands fell to her lap, gripping the hem of her skirt with such force it was as if she could hold back the emotions threatening to spill over.
"It's not like that!" Konata growled, turning away, afraid of losing control. She jerked her head aside, avoiding Yutaka's gaze at all costs.
"It is!" Yutaka shot back, stepping to the side, insistent, forcing Konata to look her directly in the eye.
"Just leave me alone! Get out! I don't want to talk to you anymore!"
"Talk?" Yutaka's voice cracked as she raised it, filled with pain. "The only thing you've done this whole time is yell at me, shake me…!" She extended her arm, pointing at her wrist, still red from earlier. "And treat me like I'm disposable garbage to you!"
Her breath hitched. She pressed her lips together, trying to hold back the tears, but something inside her had shattered all at once.
"It's not my fault I'm not Yui, okay?! It's not my fault I wasn't there for you while you were growing up! I wanted… I wanted to be with you. But I bet when you think about the past, you don't even mention me in those memories, do you? Why would you? I was just the pathetic and sickly little sister of Yui, the one who always got left behind because she'd rather be with you than take care of me like she should've."
Yui this, Yui that…
Konata felt like she was about to explode, the pressure of everything she had been holding in becoming unbearable. All the regret she had accumulated during the argument disappeared in an instant, replaced by the memory of the real reason she had come here. How unfair everything had been: her friends whispering behind her back, silently pitying her for weeks, all because of a comment Yutaka had let slip when they asked. This horrible day, in part, was her fault.
Without thinking, Konata jabbed her finger into Yutaka's chest again, this time with such force that it made her stumble backward in surprise.
"Konata!" Yutaka exclaimed, her voice trembling as a flash of anger crossed her face, stepping back another pace as she placed a hand on her chest, feeling the pain from the hit.
"You know what's really going on here? You're jealous, Yutaka. Always have been. Don't think I haven't noticed. I remember that look you used to give me when we were kids—like you wanted to be me so bad it hurt. And now here you are, playing the perfect little sister act, pretending to be all high and mighty while sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. Let's be real for a sec—what you did? That was way out of line. Who the hell spills someone's personal business to their friends behind their back, especially when they're already having a rough time? Bet you wouldn't like it if I turned the tables on you. How about I let everyone know what kind of magazines 'sweet, innocent' Yutaka keeps stashed under her bed?" Konata extended her arm, pointing at her friends on the other side of the court, her expression filled with contempt.
Yutaka could barely believe what she had just heard. Outrage took hold of her instantly, and her face, once pale from tension, flushed a furious red. Frustrated, she clenched her fists, feeling the anger rise in her throat like a knot she couldn't swallow.
"That was a misunderstanding! And it has nothing to do with this! Stop changing the damn subject!"
"Oh, it has everything to do with this," Konata shot back, her voice dripping with venom. "If you're gonna drag my private business into this, then I might as well do the same with yours. And now that we've got an audience over there," she added, motioning toward the distant figures watching them, "I think I'll go have a little chat with them…"
Yutaka ran a hand down her face, gripping at her skin in frustration.
"They just asked me about you one day! Alright!? What the hell was I supposed to say?! That you're totally fine and acting like an idiot just because?! Do you even realize how worried they are about you?! How worried I am about you?! How can you be this damn blind?!"
"I don't believe a single word you're saying, Yutaka. You're lying, you're—" Konata stopped, her anger clouding her thoughts. "Do you really think I'm stupid enough to not see what you're trying to do? You're just trying to manipulate me, to make me feel guilty. But I won't—"
"Just shut up already!" Yutaka's voice cracked as she screamed, her eyes brimming with tears. "I can't take this anymore, Konata. I don't want to see you or hear another damn word from you. Do whatever you want, tell my friends whatever you feel like—I don't care. And don't wait for me tonight. Or ever. I'm leaving. I'm not setting foot in that house for another second. I'll call Uncle to send my stuff, but that's it."
She took a deep breath, her shoulders shaking as she tried to contain the storm inside her. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet, but laced with bitter disappointment.
"Thanks for opening my eyes. I don't know how I put up with you for so long. You're the worst cousin anyone could ask for. And honestly? I still don't get what Yui ever saw in you, why she had the patience to stay by your side for so long… But whatever. This is it. This is the last goodbye, Konata. I hope I never see you again."
With that, Yutaka turned around coldly, completely disregarding any attempt at a response or explanation.
"Where the hell do you think you're going, brat? We're not done—!" Konata shouted, her voice shaking between anger and a sorrow she could barely hold back.
But Yutaka didn't stop.
With her head down and unsteady steps, she moved forward as if the weight of the argument was still crushing her. She ignored Konata's shout, ignored everything around her. She had let out everything she had been holding inside, every word buried for years… yet instead of relief, all she felt was a suffocating emptiness.
An emptiness that had only grown since Yui's departure. She missed her with every fiber of her being, but instead of finding comfort in Konata—the one person who was supposed to understand her—she had only found rejection, contempt, and wounds that cut deeper each time. And as if that wasn't enough, the memory of that afternoon at the station still haunted her, clinging to her mind like a shadow that refused to fade.
Yui's expression was still burned into her mind.
She wasn't the strong, radiant sister Yutaka had always admired, but a shadow of herself—desolate, dimmed. Not even Yutaka's embrace had been enough to bring back her light, as if something essential was missing. Something that, no matter how hard she tried, Yutaka could never replace.
Because, in the end, it had all been useless. She had shoved Konata away from the door with all her strength, determined to keep her from getting in the way, but nothing had changed. Yui never said it out loud, but her eyes had made it painfully clear: what hurt her most wasn't the goodbye. It was Konata's absence.
And realizing that hurt more than Yutaka could have ever imagined.
For a fleeting moment, she had wanted to scream at her, to demand answers: Why was she never enough? Why was it always Konata in that place that, in theory, should have been hers as Yui's sister? But she swallowed the words. Instead of giving in to anger and frustration, she forced herself to stay still, a fragile smile on her lips, as if she could at least be strong for Yui in their last moment together.
She kept waving her hand, forcing a goodbye that burned her from the inside. Through the train's window, she saw her sister's downcast face, the weak gesture with which she returned the farewell… and in her eyes, the weight of an absence that Yutaka could never fill.
When the train disappeared into the horizon, the pressure in her chest became unbearable. It wasn't the goodbye she had imagined, nor the one she wanted, but it was the one she had. And even though she understood that nothing would change, the sense of uselessness suffocated her.
But she couldn't stay trapped in that moment. All that mattered now was the present: her steps moving further away from Konata, from that cousin who had always been a source of frustration, of insecurities… and yet, she could never hate her, no matter how hard she tried. Not even a little.
That thought twisted her soul. It wasn't fair. None of this was. She didn't hate Konata, but she hated what she had been forced to do. She hated pushing her away that day before going to the station… and now, she hated doing it again. Only this time, it wasn't her hands, but her words that had built a wall between them.
A wall that maybe she would never be able to tear down.
But did she really want this? Did she truly want to cut all ties with her cousin? For a brief moment, an almost uncontrollable impulse surged within her: she wanted to turn on her heels, run to Konata, hug her like never before, and tell her that she was sorry, even if she wasn't to blame for anything.
But… she didn't do it.
There was a limit to everything, and Konata had already crossed it. Forcing herself to silence the lump in her throat, Yutaka kept walking, not looking back.