{Sentimental with the Girl Next to Me}

The view outside the classroom window has become distinctly spring-like.

The cherry trees sway in the strong wind. From a distance, you can see the buds swelling, and they will likely begin to bloom soon.

I sigh.

“The wind is strong today, Yamaguchi-kun.”

Satou-san seems to have spent her lunch break outside. Her tied-up hair is disheveled from the wind, looking quite messy.

She sits down next to me, breathing heavily. Apparently, she was playing tag in the schoolyard. Honestly, even though we’re in high school, she still does such childish things.

I steal glances at her as she unties her hair and combs through it with her fingers.

“The cherry blossoms in the schoolyard look like they’re about to bloom. Spring is here.”

“Yeah.”

A disinterested reply slips out of my mouth.

Satou-san continues tying up her long hair without caring about my response. She ties it up in one motion, as if she has no intention of trying another hairstyle.

“The cherry blossoms will be beautiful when they bloom.”

She said something so obvious that I couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Of course, they will be. They were beautiful last year too.”

Cherry blossoms are always the same. They bloom the same way every year, and they’re beautiful every year.

I’m sure this year, too, the light pink petals will bloom all over, and it will be quite a sight.

“True, but…”

After retying her hair, Satou-san laughs while countering my statement.

“We won’t know how beautiful this year’s cherry blossoms are until we see them.”

“They won’t be anything but beautiful.”

“Yeah, I think so too. But I’m sure this year’s cherry blossoms will be different from last year’s.”

Satou-san emphasized the word “sure.”

Before I knew it, I stopped glancing sideways at her and turned to look directly at her sitting to my left.

What Satou-san was looking at were the cherry blossom buds in the schoolyard, visible through the classroom window.

Maybe last year’s and this year’s cherry blossoms are indeed different.

I thought so, too.

The cherry trees I see over Satou-san’s profile were swaying in the strong wind, trembling as if they seemed uneasy.

“Spring is coming.”

Satou-san said softly.

Her voice, so quiet it seemed like it might dissolve into the noisy classroom before the fifth period.

“I like spring.”

I knew she would. Satou-san really seems like the type who would love spring.

She’s like spring herself. Awkward, plain, but sometimes she feels warm. After spending the whole winter sitting next to her, that’s how she felt to me.

“Spring will come. Tomorrow’s the last day of the third trimester.”

I responded in that way.

“Yeah.”

Then Satou-san turned to face me.

Her face was beaming with a big smile.

“I’m looking forward to spring break.”

“…Well, yeah.”

Is such a short break really something to look forward to? That’s so typical of Satou-san.

I don’t care about spring break. It’s just going to end in the blink of an eye.

On top of that, in April, we’ll be moving up to third year, and inevitably, we’ll become students preparing for exams. I, along with my friends, will all become busy with our own lives.

In April, things won’t go on as they always have.

“Aren’t you looking forward to it, Yamaguchi-kun?”

Maybe she sensed my reaction, and Satou-san looked puzzled.

She’s only sharp at times like this, so I shrug my shoulders lightly.

“No, I am looking forward to it. After all, we’ll be third-year students starting in the spring.”

“That’s true. It’s great that there’s no class reshuffling. Our current class is fun.”

Her cheerful voice came from my left.

I sigh again.

There’s no class reshuffling.

But as soon as the new school year starts, there will be a seat change. In our class, seat changes are decided by lottery. Satou-san and I will be in the same class next year, but the chances of sitting next to each other again are slim.

I’ve been through so much trouble sitting next to her, but the thought of changing seats made me feel inexplicably lonely.

Lonely, or maybe just sentimental.

I’m probably just feeling sentimental.

We’re becoming third-year students. Our grade, classroom, curriculum, and everything around us will change. I wished, at least, that this seat would stay the same, but that’s impossible.

The only thing that won’t change is Satou-san herself.

No matter how many years pass, she’ll remain plain, unsophisticated, awkward, and clumsy, a girl who suits a simple ponytail. I guess I just want to cling to her unchanging nature, her spring-like presence.

“This year’s cherry blossoms will definitely be more beautiful than last year’s.”

Satou-san said with narrowed eyes.

She’s not particularly pretty, and among the girls in our class, she’s the plainest and most childish.

But her smile at this moment was strangely dazzling, making me squint my eyes too.

“Maybe.”

“Not maybe. Definitely.”

“Why do you think so? Do you have any reason?”

I couldn’t help asking her about her rare stubborn assertion, and after thinking for a moment, she answered.

“Because we’re growing up.”

She said it with her usual smile, but her eyes looked somewhat serious.

“We’re growing up bit by bit. The way we see the cherry blossoms will be different from last year. I’m sure the cherry blossoms we see as we grow older will look more beautiful and fleeting than they did when we were younger.”

I thought to myself.

There’s nothing that remains unchanged, after all. Not a single thing.

Even Satou-san won’t stay childish forever. She’ll slowly but surely grow up, even if it’s at a slower pace than others. Before long, her plain, unsophisticated look might disappear entirely.

There’s no way anything can remain unchanged.

“…I see.”

So, I murmur.

“I also think this year’s cherry blossoms will bloom especially beautifully.”

My almost-grown-up eyes were now looking at Satou-san.

I was watching her smile, with the cherry blossoms about to bloom behind her.

The familiar classroom scenery is about to change.