Interlude: Hijiri Hanao
Hijiri Hanao, the student council president of
Totsue High School, held deep admiration for two people.
One of them was her mother, Hijiri Sae.
A woman who could have stepped straight out of a
portrait of refined elegance, Sae lost her husband—Hanao’s father—three years
ago. Though grief weighed her down at first, her love and dedication toward her
daughter never waned in the slightest.
—Now that I think about it, ever since dear father
died, dear mother seems to have grown even more devoted to my upbringing.
Hanao had never relied on private tutors or cram
schools. Everything she learned outside of her formal education came directly
from her mother. Strangely enough, Sae had never even attended university. Yet,
through self-study alone, she had cultivated the knowledge to guide Hanao—who
stood among the top students at the prestigious academy.
Even while pouring her heart into her daughter’s
education, Hijiri Sae never neglected her own beauty as a woman. No matter
which fashion magazine one opened, there was hardly a model who could rival her
mother’s graceful figure or radiant charm. If she ever chose to remarry and
appeared in the proper social circles, there would no doubt be dozens of
suitors vying for her hand.
Dear Mother truly is extraordinary.
Though she had been raised with strictness, Hanao
could clearly see the love behind it. On birthdays, at Christmas, in every
cherished memory, her mother was always by her side. She also understood that
her mother’s choice not to remarry was made out of thoughtfulness for her
daughter.
Even after learning about countless great figures, if asked, “Who does Hijiri Hanao respect most?” she was certain that her answer, both now and forever, would be Hijiri Sae.
The other person was her senpai at school and, at the same time, her boyfriend, Kogi Urusuke.
Academically, he was neither remarkable nor
lacking; raised by the sea, he had a strong physique, but because he did not
belong to any club, he had no notable achievements in sports or other extracurricular
activities.
Yet, the reason Hanao respected him lay in his
heart.
Kogi-senpai is genuinely straightforward and
sincere.
Hanao first encountered him immediately after
starting school.
Having been chosen to deliver the new student
representative greeting at the entrance ceremony, she soon realized that
numerous eyes were fixed intently on her.
Hanao knew that her appearance—including her
figure—naturally drew attention. She was used to curious stares; those who
approached out of mere interest would quickly leave when met with a firm,
unyielding look.
Yet, the senpai—Kogi Urusuke—whose eyes had met
hers from across the hall, was different.
At first, Hanao met his gaze with her usual
unwavering stare. But he, seizing the moment, began walking straight toward
her, unhesitatingly.
“Hijiri-san. I’m interested in you. Could we have a
word?”
It was so blunt that, to be honest, Hanao was
caught off guard. Yet his eyes—just as intense as the gazes she had felt—spoke
volumes, conveying his genuine seriousness.
There was a desperate urgency to him, as though he
were saying, “If I let Hijiri slip away, all will be lost.”
I couldn’t help but agree, couldn’t I?
Even now, more than a year later, recalling those
moments still brings a small smile to her lips.
After morning practice in the hallways, at the
family restaurant after school, and in the park on the way home, Hanao and
Urusuke gradually began to converse.
Later, during the kendo club’s summer training camp
in Urusuke’s hometown, they even ran into each other by the sea.
“Hijiri Hanao-san, I like you—both how you look and
who you are. Please go out with me.”
In the autumn of their first year, Urusuke said
those words behind the school building. He was a boy who confronted everything
head-on, brutally honest to the core.
Hanao didn’t refuse. At that moment, she too had already begun to harbor feelings for this boy, whose devotion to her was so unabashed and earnest.
Dear mother, Kogi-senpai—I feel bad about what I did today.
Hanao thought this in the student council room on
Saturday. She had brought together the two people she respected and admired—but
in the end, she was the one who had to step away.
I’m thinking of Kogi-senpai for the future—and I
just hope they’ll get along.
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