I’m not sure if the Aotaka Festival was the direct cause, but naturally, Tachibana Iori and I had started going home together to the station.

The road from Cyberia to the station was generally dim, with only the streetlights illuminating our path. In the faint light, Tachibana Iori’s face seemed just a little more downcast than usual.

“Iori, did something bad happen?”

“Hm? Why do you think that?”

There was definitely something off. I couldn’t sense the usual vigor from her. It was like the usual sparkles floating around her had diminished by about three.

“You just seem a bit down. Did a customer say something to you?”

One thing I’ve realized since starting this job is that customer service is surprisingly stressful. Sometimes, you even get complaints that feel like nothing more than misplaced anger. I remember how shocked I was the first time I got scolded by a customer.

Tachibana Iori let out a small sigh, as if she had given up. It was rare to see her sigh. To be honest, it was kind of a fresh experience.

“…I didn’t think I was showing it on my face. I guess I’m no match for you, Natsuki.”

“You may be independent now, but as your senior, I’m still keeping an eye on you.”

When the manager wasn’t around, I was the one in charge. Not that I could really act as a proper replacement, but at the very least, I did my best to make sure no problems arose. That included paying close attention to Tachibana Iori.

“…I thought I had already outgrown your care, Natsuki.”

“Just like parents always see their children as children, no matter how old they get, you’ll always be my junior, Iori. If you’re ever in trouble, I’ll have your back.”

Though, to be honest, her work was so flawless that I doubted she’d ever need my help. But if she did, I’d be ready.

“Back to the point—did something happen? If it’s something I can help with, I’d like to hear it.”

Judging from her expression, it was obvious something was bothering her. The question was whether she’d tell me about it or not. Honestly, I wasn’t confident.

We were more than just coworkers, but not quite friends.

That was the best way to describe our relationship.

“It’s not that someone said something to me… It’s just that I feel guilty.”

“Guilty?”

…To whom?

…For what?

Two questions immediately popped into my head. I was glad she was opening up, but I had no idea what she was talking about.

“Natsuki, you wanted to get a girlfriend at the Aotaka Festival, didn’t you? But because of me, the Suzakura students ended up disliking you.”

I was so caught off guard that I was momentarily speechless. I thought we had already laughed this off as a joke.

“Sorry… Because of me, your dream of a Suzakura-Aotaka couple was ruined.”

Tachibana Iori muttered apologetically. I had never seen her like this before, and I wasn’t sure how to respond.

So, in the end, I decided to be completely honest.

“I really don’t mind. It’s not like I was that desperate for a girlfriend.”

Maybe Souda and Hiura, along with the rest of my classmates, would think differently, but I never felt that strongly about the Suzakura-Aotaka pairing. Sure, if I had to say whether I wanted a girlfriend or not, I’d obviously say yes, but I was more of the “it’d be nice if it happened naturally” type.

“…You sure seemed pretty determined, though.”

Tachibana Iori said in a tone that almost sounded like she was interrogating me.

“That’s because I heard your voice.”

“My voice?”

“You cheered for me at the last corner, didn’t you?”

That voice gave me the strength to win the relay. It gave me the motivation to push forward.

“When I saw you, I knew I had to do my best. I’m glad I was able to keep my promise.”

Just hearing her call me cool was enough to satisfy me. Being treated as an enemy by the Suzakura students was just a minor issue in comparison.

“Thanks to you, this year’s Aotaka Festival was really fun. Not just for me—everyone said the same thing. So, thanks, Iori.”

It might be a bit shallow to say, but having someone of the opposite sex watching really amped up everyone’s motivation. Because everyone gave it their all, the festival was way more exciting than last year.

I wasn’t sure how much my words reached her, but it felt like the weight in the air around her had lifted slightly.

“Natsuki, you’re way cooler than I am.”

“I doubt that. You were insanely popular in the Aotaka uniform.”

There was a constant crowd around her. I even heard there was an entire photo-op session set up during lunch. I wondered how many students had set their phone wallpapers to a selfie with her.

Though the interaction between Aotaka and Suzakura was gradually reviving, it seemed like we were still a long way from seeing an actual couple form.

“They were just curious. Natsuki, why don’t you try wearing the Suzakura uniform? I bet you’d be popular.”

“I’ll pass. It would never suit me.”

I didn’t even want to imagine myself in a Suzakura uniform. Who would even want that?

…Well, whatever the case, she seemed lively enough to be cracking jokes again.

“I suppose you’re right. Natsuki looks best in the Aotaka uniform. Though, I do like how you look in the Cyberia uniform too.”

“You think so? I can’t compete with you, Iori.”

“You shouldn’t put yourself down like that. Natsuki in his uniform… I like it.”

My heart skipped a beat.

How did she manage to say things like that so effortlessly?

“S-Seriously…? Well, thanks, I guess.”

My face felt hot. Thankfully, we had just arrived at the station. I quickly parted ways with her, escaping to the platform to catch my breath.

I really didn’t think I could look at her right now.

“Iori, you’re seriously bad for my heart…”

The worst part? She probably didn’t mean anything by it.

A femme fatale… no, in this case, would it be a “homme fatale”? If such a phrase existed, it was definitely made for Tachibana Iori.

“…And to make things worse, she’s actually really cute.”

The rest of my classmates always said she was “too cool to be seen as a romantic interest,” but my opinion was a little different.

Sure, she was undeniably the coolest person around.

But in those brief moments—like at the very end of the Aotaka Festival—she looked unmistakably like a girl.

And that was what messed me up the most.