Life In The Reverse World

“Idiot Hoshikawa! Where’s Chouko!?”

“I…”

Staring at the puffed-up, furious Nogami in front of him, Harutaki couldn’t help thinking that even like this, she was oddly cute. Unfortunately, before Harutaki could offer any explanation, he saw the girl’s hands reaching toward him.

“Seriously, you stupid dog! Didn’t you go after Chouko this morning? How could you fail at something as simple as keeping her here!?”

His cheeks were kneaded mercilessly, like she was squishing the chubby head of a Shiba Inu.

“Mmff—!”

Easy for her to say. With what reason? With what standing? How was he supposed to argue with a mother who was acting for her daughter’s sake, let alone go further and forcibly stop her?

Suddenly, Nogami stopped kneading his face. Her rose-red eyes tilted slightly upward as they locked onto his.

“What were you sulking about all afternoon, huh? Stupid dog!”

“Where’d all that guts you had when you were dealing with me go!?”

“You’re Hoshikawa Harutaki, aren’t you?! You’re a guy, right?!”

Faced with that deadly serious expression, Harutaki could no longer suppress the impulse bubbling inside him. He cupped the girl’s head and leaned down.

“Mmph—! Nngh…!”

“Hiss—! Why’d you bite me!?”

He wiped his lower lip with the back of his hand and saw a streak of red trailing across it like the tail of a comet. Only then did the tingling pain register.

“I—I should be the one asking what you thought you were doing, suddenly getting so close!”

Nogami scrubbed her lips hard with her sleeve, then turned her head sharply aside as if to spit. A moment later, however, she turned back, face flushed bright red.

“F-fine… If you’re going to make the dog work, you’ve got to give it a reward…”

She glared at him fiercely, like a cat that had just been unexpectedly petted—complaining with indignant little noises that only made you want to pet her again.

Then she added in a hard tone,

“If you… if you don’t pull it off in the end, I’ll make sure you get a lesson you’ll never forget!”

“Another bite?”

Now far more relaxed, Harutaki even had the mood to tease her.

“Bite my ass! You perverted mutt, get lost!”

Still cursing, she shoved him hard out of the unused classroom and slammed the door shut with a bang, cutting off the world between them.

“Thanks! Nogami, your encouragement definitely got through!”

Just like with Nogami’s father, and Chouko’s parents too—no matter what, to them he was just a kid.

If that was the case, then he’d charge in like a kid—and solve it like one.

With that thought, he stopped hesitating.

He grabbed the backpack he had packed earlier, left school with a noticeably lighter step, and on the way home pulled out his phone to open the JR ticket site, booking a Nozomi Shinkansen ticket to Kyoto for tomorrow morning.

As Asama-sensei had said, they were still young. They could afford to make mistakes. As long as it wasn’t something unforgivable, even if he messed up, he could apologize properly and make amends afterward.

…

On his way home, he once again took the longer path along the riverside cherry blossom road.

Though the blossoms had nearly all fallen now, leaving behind bare, somewhat awkward-looking branches, Hoshikawa Harutaki refused to give up this detour.

After all, Asama-sensei had said that chasing efficiency alone would cost you your youth—and still not bring happiness.

Then he saw her.

That familiar figure sitting beneath the cherry tree by the stream. The bob cut, shorter in back and longer in front. The black choker accentuating her swan-like white neck.

There was no doubt.

That beautiful girl was Shirasagi-senpai.

Harutaki felt a buoyant lightness in his chest, but he restrained the urge to rush over immediately. He softened his footsteps, careful not to disturb her. She often sat here—sometimes lost in thought, sometimes reading quietly.

Truth be told, the past week had been exhausting.

Between Nogami and Chouko, he had done his best to maintain the “World of Harutaki” performance—pretending to be the clueless version of himself. The pressure had honestly been worse than any major exam.

Exams, he was confident in.

But girls’ hearts, shifting like weather at sea—those he didn’t dare probe recklessly.

Nogami and Chouko?

They weren’t girls.

They were twin blocks of TNT. Storm clouds heavy enough to crush a city.

All week, it was thanks to Shirasagi-senpai. She had waited here every day after school, chatting aimlessly with him, easing the tension in his mind.

“Shirasagi-senpai…”

“Have your worries been resolved?”

She turned a page in the book resting on her knees, asking without lifting her head.

“Don’t tell me you’ve got eyes on the back of your head too?”

“Your footsteps sound lighter. And your tone’s livelier.”

“Half right. What reward or punishment would you like, Senpai?”

As usual, he plopped down beside her on the ground.

“Normally, we would skip the reward-and-punishment stage. But to console my delinquent junior whose mood has just recovered, I suppose I can allow you to stop using my surname.”

“Miyabi-senpai?”

“Mm.”

“Miyabi-senpai.”

“Mm…”

“Miyabi-senpai!”

“…What?”

She slowly closed the book on her lap, turned her head, and looked at him expressionlessly.

“Where did this kindergarten brat come from? Please tone down that slightly nauseating excitement on your face.”

“Nogami and Shihou both said something similar.”

He nodded solemnly, thinking men never grow up—wait, kindergarteners didn’t even count as teens yet, did they?

“Please don’t recount your scandalous exploits to me, Hoshikawa-kun.”

“Then… can I consult Miyabi-senpai about my worries?”

As he spoke, his gaze drifted to the book on her lap.

Stamped in black letters edged in gold on the pure white cover—

The Alchemist.

She was the kind of person who could read minds. At least, that was how he saw her.

She seemed to sense his thoughts. Carefully lifting the hardcover book with her right hand, she moved it away—

—and just as he tried to occupy its former position—

Thud.

His head made a dull sound, eerily similar to the one Fuyuno once made.

“Ow ow ow…”

He looked up at her pitifully. She lightly tapped her skirt-covered thigh, as if sending a signal.

Without hesitation, he rolled over and lay down, resting his head on her lap. Even so, his view of her cool face was obstructed—like the Himalayas blocking the Siberian winds. Sacred. Unreachable.

Thud.

“Nngh—!”

This time the book smacked him from the front. Nose stinging, he covered his face to prevent tears from welling up.

That would be too embarrassing.

“Go on. What have you been worrying about this past week? And what are you anxious about now? Tell me.”

“So you can be entertained?”

“…”

“Sorry.”

Meeting her gaze as she leaned over him slightly, he swallowed and obediently told her everything he could—what had happened, what troubled him, what confused him about the road ahead.

Strangely, he felt no need to hide anything from her. And she always helped him find a direction.

“…That’s about it.”

After a short silence, her cool voice drifted down to him.

“I didn’t expect you to be surprisingly mature at a time like this.”

“Uh… What do you think, Miyabi-senpai?”

“I thought you’d charge in foolishly, like you did with Nogami-san.”

That wasn’t foolish, was it?

“At the time, I felt my position was clearly justified…”

“And now?”

“I think, to Shihou’s parents, I’m just a sixteen-year-old punk. So if I do something a sixteen-year-old would do, that’s fine, right?”

“Are you prepared?”

Her icy voice pierced his heart like a gleaming arrow.

“After helping that girl choose her future, are you prepared to shoulder the responsibility of that choice with her?”

“….”

Spring wind flowed gently through the world like the nearby stream, slipping past branches and through shrubs before brushing softly across his face.

Too bad the cherry blossoms were no longer falling at five centimeters per second.

He used that thought to avoid the question he didn’t want—or couldn’t—answer.

Then her voice came again, crisp as winter air.

“You see? You still don’t fully understand your own position.”

“…Huh?”

“I don’t know why, but Hoshikawa-kun, you think like an adult. You weigh consequences, gains and losses, impact. You obsess over responsibility.”

“But…”

“Would it be so bad to have a little of a sixteen-year-old boy’s passion?”

A sixteen-year-old’s passion.

Back then, sitting at his desk studying, had he ever possessed such a thing?

Maybe only in basketball. Or novels.

“Sixteen-year-olds don’t fear responsibility because most of them don’t understand its weight. They don’t calculate gains and losses because they don’t really have stakes to calculate. They don’t hesitate. If they believe something is right, they act. They don’t stop to question whether they’re capable.”

Her voice remained calm, yet it filled him with a strange strength.

“Do you know why so many stories choose high schoolers as protagonists? Because those three years might be the bravest, most carefree time in a person’s life. Parents handle life’s problems. Teachers light the road ahead. In that time, you’re free to dream of the future—of your ideals, your life—and run toward them with everything you have.”

“Just run forward…”

she said.

“And if there’s a wall in the way?”

He already knew the answer.

“If you can go around it, go around. If you can’t, climb over. If you can’t climb… then charge at it with everything you’ve got. Break it. Knock it down.”

She reached down and pinched his cheek. The smooth warmth of her fingertips made his thoughts wander.

“That’s what you did with Nogami-san, isn’t it? Are you hesitating because you like Shihou-san? But… Hoshikawa-kun, why do you think love is something you obtain simply by giving?”

She cited examples from popular novels and obscure tales alike, then continued,

“Unilateral devotion usually ends in tragedy. Love may appear to be about giving, but at its core, it is about wanting. Imagine this: you keep giving without ever asking for anything. How much pressure would that put on her? Or… are you secretly longing to claim something far more costly in return?”

“I…”

He had no answer.

What was he asking for?

Physical desire? Emotional fulfillment? Both?

He longed for a pure and sincere love he had never known. But if only he was giving, could that truly be called pure?

Without realizing it, he had imposed his own hopes and fantasies onto Chouko—without even considering her wishes.

“I think I understand now. Thank you, Miyabi-senpai…”

“Mm. When you come back—whether you succeed or fail—tell me everything.”

“Let’s not use the word ‘fail’ right now. That’s bad luck.”

He exhaled softly, recalling the book she had been reading.

There was a line he once scoffed at—

So he asked,

“If I truly want something, will the whole universe really conspire to help me?”

“At the very least, the only thing that can stop you right now is fear.”

After that, silence settled between them—warm and gentle as spring.

She stretched out her legs. He lay back on the firm yet faintly soft pillow of her lap, while she placed the book over his face and resumed reading.

…

“People are afraid to pursue their most important dreams because they feel they don’t deserve them—or that they lack the ability to achieve them…”

Miyabi watched as Harutaki’s figure disappeared around the street corner and murmured softly.

So there are girls that fortunate, she thought. That Shihou girl—how lucky to have someone like him striving for her sake.

She reopened The Alchemist, flipping to the page marked with a pale green four-leaf clover bookmark, and read the familiar line:

Most people seem to know exactly how others should live their lives, yet have no idea about their own.

Hoshikawa-kun was running forward.

But what about her, Shirasagi Miyabi?

As she approached eighteen, could she truly break down a wall?

As she approached eighteen, could she really ignore consequences—and the responsibility that came with her choices?

How enviable.

She recalled the confident smile on his handsome face when he left—the violet depths of his eyes, filled with anticipation for the future.

Like the sun.

Warm.

And just a little dazzling.