Chapter 243 069: Shiina Hiyori vs. Hikigaya Hachiman!

The shopping street in the evening was dyed a warm orange by the sunset.

Hachiman and Karuizawa Kei walked side by side on the path, each holding a bottle of water bought from a vending machine. Student Council work had just ended; Ichinose had stayed behind in the office to organize documents, and Kushida had said she was going to the library to return books.

When Hachiman was packing his things, Karuizawa walked over and asked what he was doing for dinner. He said he hadn't decided yet. She said, "Then let's go eat together." He said, "Okay."

It was just that simple.

Thus, the two began what appeared to be a working meal, but in reality, was a date.

They chose a hot pot restaurant and sat at a window seat. The waiter handed them a menu; Karuizawa took it, flipped through two pages, and passed it to Hachiman. "You order."

"You order, it's fine." Hachiman didn't take it.

Karuizawa glanced at him, didn't insist, and said directly to the waiter, "Spicy broth. Beef, lamb, shrimp paste, luncheon meat, enoki mushrooms, baby bok choy, lotus root slices... and two servings of wide glass noodles."

The waiter took note and asked, "What spice level for the broth?"

"Medium spicy," Karuizawa said.

The corners of Hachiman's mouth twitched slightly, but he didn't say anything.

When the broth was brought out, the red oil rolled on the surface of the soup, and the aroma of chili and peppercorns hit them head-on. Karuizawa picked up her chopsticks, dipped a slice of beef into the pot, swished it for a few seconds, pulled it out, dipped it in an oil-based sauce, and put it into her mouth. Her eyes brightened, she didn't say anything, but her chopsticks reached back into the pot.

Hachiman also dipped a slice, put it in the pot, swished it, pulled it out, and took a bite. His expression changed. It wasn't that it tasted bad; it was just too spicy. The spiciness exploded on the tip of his tongue and burned down his throat; his face turned red instantly.

He hurriedly picked up his water glass and took a big gulp, then another.

Watching him, Karuizawa couldn't help but laugh. "You can't eat spicy food?"

"I can," Hachiman's voice was somewhat slurred, "but I can't eat it too spicy."

"Then why didn't you say so earlier?" Karuizawa put down her chopsticks. "We could have ordered a split-pot."

"It's fine," Hachiman shook his head. "You eat yours."

Karuizawa stared at him for two seconds. His lips were bright red from the spice, and a fine layer of sweat had seeped onto his forehead, but he didn't drink any more water, nor did he put down his chopsticks; he dipped another slice of meat into the pot. He was toughing it out.

Karuizawa picked up the menu and called the waiter. "Add a tomato-based broth. Non-spicy."

The waiter nodded and left. Karuizawa moved the spicy pot toward her side, leaving the space open for the tomato broth. When the tomato pot arrived, the soup surface was a rich red, but not the red of chili—it was the red of tomatoes. Hachiman dipped a slice of meat into the tomato broth, swished it for a few seconds, took it out, and took a bite. His expression finally relaxed.

"Next time we order, just get the split-pot," Karuizawa said. "You don't need to accommodate me."

Hachiman looked at her. "You don't need to accommodate me, either."

"I'm not accommodating you," Karuizawa dipped a shrimp paste ball from the spicy pot. "I like spicy food to begin with. How about you? What kind of broth do you like?"

Hachiman thought about it. "Tomato. Mushroom. Something lighter."

Karuizawa nodded and committed these to memory. The two ate quietly for a while, neither speaking. The steam from the hot pot rose between them, blurring each other's sight. Hachiman picked up a piece of wide glass noodle, swished it a few times in the tomato broth, took it out, blew on it, and put it in his mouth. The noodles had absorbed the soup, soft, glutinous, and chewy.

"This is good," Hachiman said.

Karuizawa also picked up a piece and put it in the spicy pot. She took a bite and frowned. "Wide glass noodles are better suited for light broth. They absorb too much flavor in the spicy pot; it's too spicy to handle."

"Then don't put them in the spicy pot next time."

"We'll see next time."

The two ate for a while longer. The food on the table gradually decreased, and the soup in the pot was half gone. The waiter came to top up the soup and left again. Hachiman put down his chopsticks and picked up his glass to take a sip of water. He looked at Karuizawa; she was eating the enoki mushrooms from the spicy pot, her chopsticks steady, eating at a steady pace. Her lips were also flushed red from the spice, but she didn't drink water or stop.

"Hachiman," Karuizawa suddenly put down her chopsticks.

"Hmm?"

"If we come here again, I'll order the tomato broth. Non-spicy," Karuizawa said, "then you won't have to order a split-pot."

Hachiman looked at her. "Don't you like spicy food?"

"It's fine to eat it occasionally," Karuizawa picked up her water glass and took a sip. "And the tomato broth is pretty good, too."

Hachiman was silent for a second. "Then next time, I'll order the spicy broth."

Karuizawa was stunned. "Can't you not eat spicy food?"

"It's fine to eat it occasionally," Hachiman said.

The two looked at each other for a second and then laughed simultaneously. It wasn't a loud laugh, but a very soft one, as if it had slipped out because they couldn't hold it back.

"The Gift of the Magi," Hachiman said.

Karuizawa was stunned. "What?"

"Nothing," Hachiman shook his head. "Just felt it was quite a coincidence."

Karuizawa didn't press him. She lowered her head and continued eating. Hachiman also picked up his chopsticks. The two ate quietly for a while, neither speaking. But that silence wasn't awkward; it was a kind of unspoken silence born from being accustomed to each other's presence.

Hachiman felt that his relationship with Karuizawa seemed more suitable now.

Whether speaking or not speaking, being together or not being together, he never felt uncomfortable.

This feeling was something he had never experienced before.

It wasn't the tension he felt when with Yukinoshita, not the relaxation he felt with Yuigahama, not the ease he felt with Ichinose Honami. It was something like water. Not hot, not cold—just right.

"Hachiman," Karuizawa's voice came from across the table.

Hachiman snapped back to reality and looked at her.

"You're not in the right state today," Karuizawa put down her chopsticks and rested her hands on the table. "You've been distracted since just now. What are you thinking about?"

Hachiman's fingers paused on his chopsticks. He looked at Karuizawa; in those wine-red eyes, there was no blame, no urgency—only a quiet wait for him to speak. Since they had been dating, she had never forced him to say anything. If he wanted to say it, he would; if he didn't, he wouldn't. She never pushed him.

But this time, Hachiman felt he should tell her. Not because she asked, but because he felt she deserved to know.

"I think I've betrayed you," Hachiman said.

'Huh?'

Karuizawa was stunned.

Then.

"Betrayed?" Her voice sounded a bit strained. "What do you mean?"

"Not that kind of betrayal," Hachiman quickly said. "It's another kind."

Karuizawa stared at him for two seconds. Her brain was racing—not that kind of betrayal, then what kind? Hachiman indeed had many girls around him—Ichinose, Kushida, Horikita, Sakayanagi, Sakura, Matsushita... but he wasn't that type of person. She had been dating him for so long and knew how responsible he was. He wouldn't do that kind of thing while they were still together. So when he said "betrayed," it definitely wasn't what she had in mind.

"My ability to hear inner voices disappeared," Hachiman lowered his voice, "but I gained another ability. I can dream about the future."

Karuizawa's brow furrowed slightly. "The future?"

"Yeah," Hachiman nodded. "A very real dream. Every detail is as clear as if I were awake. I dreamed about the future."

"What did you dream about?" Karuizawa asked.

Hachiman looked at her and was silent for a second. "I got married."

Karuizawa immediately looked at Hachiman.

"So," Karuizawa's voice was very soft, "you married someone else."

Hachiman didn't deny it.

Karuizawa lowered her head, looking at the bowl of soup in front of her that had already gone cold. A thin layer of oil floated on the surface, reflecting her blurred reflection.

Her finger tapped lightly on the rim of the bowl. She had known this all along. From the night she sent the message asking him, "Do you want to try dating?", she had known. He had said, "Then let's try," and she had said, "You're going to leave eventually anyway." There had been an expiration date between them from the very beginning.

She had thought she could accept it easily, thought she could turn and leave gracefully when the time came. But now, when he said "I got married," she found that she hadn't been as calm as she had imagined.

Karuizawa took a deep breath and looked up. The corners of her mouth curled up slightly; the smile was faint, but her eyes curved into crescent moons. It wasn't faked; she was truly smiling.

"I see," Karuizawa's voice returned to calm. "I know. I've known from the beginning. There is an expiration date for us. You said you had to go back eventually. I also said we should consider it as preparing for a farewell in advance."

Hachiman looked at her without speaking.

"So," Karuizawa's voice became even softer, "you don't need to feel burdened. I'm already happy to have met you in high school."

She reached out and gently grasped Hachiman's hand. Her fingers were a bit cold, but steady, not trembling. Her palm pressed against the back of his hand, and the warmth passed between their skins. "I know you'll marry someone else in the future," Karuizawa said, "I won't mind."

Hachiman looked at her. Her eyes were bright, and a hint of that smile still hung on the corners of her mouth. But her fingers were colder than usual. He had known her for so long and knew when her smile was real and when it was faked.

She was smiling now, but her eyes were not.

"It's not Yukinoshita," Hachiman said.

Karuizawa was stunned. "What?"

"The person I marry in the future," Hachiman's voice was very calm, "is not that Yukinoshita."

Karuizawa looked at him, and the emotions in her eyes changed from relief to confusion, and from confusion to a blank "what are you talking about."

"Then who is it?" Karuizawa asked.

Hachiman didn't answer immediately.

But Karuizawa was still staring at Hachiman, waiting for his answer.

Her fingers were still resting on the back of his hand, not pulled back. The soup in the hot pot was still rolling, and steam rose between them. A waiter passed by from the side, carrying a tray; the sound of footsteps was very light, then quickly moved away.

"Shiina Hiyori," Hachiman said.

Karuizawa was stunned. Or rather, she found it a bit unbelievable now.

"Shiina Hiyori?" Karuizawa's voice rose a little, then she quickly lowered it, afraid of being heard by the people at the next table. "Class C... no, the Shiina Hiyori from Class B?"

Hachiman nodded.

"How could it be her?" Karuizawa's brows furrowed. "Even if it were Sakayanagi-san, I would think it possible. After all, she is the cute type, and she's even cuter than me. But Shiina..."

She didn't finish her sentence. Because she realized she didn't know what type Hachiman liked at all. He had never said. He had only always been saying "I want to find a rich woman who can support me." Is Shiina Hiyori's family rich? She didn't know. She only knew Shiina Hiyori was the strategist of Class B, a person by Ryuen's side, and the literary girl who quietly read books in the library. Other than that, she knew nothing about her.

"When?" Karuizawa asked.

"Three months after high school graduation," Hachiman said.

Karuizawa's finger tapped lightly on the tabletop.

'Three months after high school graduation.'

Not after university graduation, not after working—three months after high school graduation.

'So urgent? Why?'

She thought about it, but couldn't come up with an answer.

"Actually, I don't know why either. I don't have any special feelings for Shiina right now," Hachiman continued.

"Karuizawa."

"Yeah."

"No special feelings, but will marry her in the future." Karuizawa turned this sentence over in her mind, then turned it over again. Not "like now," but "marry in the future." There were more than two years in between. What would happen in those two-plus years? She didn't know. But she knew that in those two-plus years, she was still by his side.

"Then..." Karuizawa's voice dropped, "Are we... going to break up now?"

Hachiman looked at her. "According to Hiyori's account, we only broke up after high school graduation."

"..." Karuizawa.

'After high school graduation.'

Not now, not tomorrow, not next month.

It was more than two years later.

She suddenly breathed a sigh of relief.

It wasn't because she wanted to cling on and not leave; it was because she wasn't ready yet. She had thought Hachiman would say something like "break up now," but fortunately, it wasn't that. After all, she really hadn't prepared herself mentally yet.

"Oh," Karuizawa responded, lowered her head, and continued eating.

Hachiman looked at her, always feeling that her mood seemed much better than before. Her chopsticks moved faster than before, and she was eating more intently. The arc of the corners of her mouth was also more natural than before.

"You don't mind?" Hachiman asked.

"Mind what?" Karuizawa didn't look up.

"Me and Shiina..."

"That's a matter for the future," Karuizawa interrupted him. "You are still by my side now. That's enough."

She picked up a slice of beef and put it into Hachiman's bowl. "Eat quickly. The meat will get tough if you cook it too long."

Hachiman lowered his head and ate that piece of beef. The beef was cooked just right—not tough or hard. He didn't know if this was the first time she had picked food for him; he couldn't remember clearly. But he felt the taste of this meal was much better than usual.

The two finished their hot pot and walked out of the store. The night breeze blew on their faces, carrying the chill of early autumn. The lights of the shopping street illuminated the entire street brightly, and passersby passed them in twos and threes. Some were laughing, some were talking, some were looking down at their phones. Hachiman put his hands into his pockets; Karuizawa walked beside him, a fist-sized distance between their shoulders.

"Hachiman," Karuizawa suddenly spoke.

"Hmm?"

"You said earlier that you dreamed about getting married in the future. Aside from the partner, what else did you dream about?"

Hachiman thought about it. "The White Room. Superpowers. World overlap."

Karuizawa's brow furrowed. "What is that?"

"Can't explain it clearly in a short while," Hachiman said. "In any case, what that dream told me isn't just about marriage."

Karuizawa nodded and didn't press him. It wasn't that she didn't want to know; it was because she felt now wasn't the time. The two walked past the corner of the shopping street and walked onto the path back to the dormitory. Streetlights swept over their heads one by one, casting their shadows on the ground, sometimes long and sometimes short.

When they reached the bottom of the dormitory building, the lights in the rest hall were still on. Through the glass door, Hachiman saw a figure. He stopped walking, and Karuizawa stopped as well. The two looked toward the hall at the same time.

Ibuki Mio was sitting on a chair in the hall.

She was wearing a dark-colored tracksuit and holding a paper bag in her hand. Her expression was calm, but her fingers were lightly pinching the handle of the paper bag.

Seeing Hachiman and Karuizawa walk in, Ibuki stood up and walked toward them. Her pace was fast, her heels making a crisp sound on the floor.

Karuizawa's body moved faster than her brain. She walked directly in front of Hachiman, blocking him.

"What are you doing?" Karuizawa's voice was somewhat tight.

Ibuki stopped and looked at Karuizawa, then looked at Hachiman behind her. "I'm not here to start trouble."

"Then what are you here for?"

"To invite him," Ibuki said directly. "Eight-thirty tonight, under the cherry tree near the school gate. Someone is waiting for him there."

Karuizawa's brow furrowed. "Who?"

Ibuki didn't answer. She looked at Hachiman and handed over the paper bag in her hand. "You'll know when you get there."

Hachiman took the paper bag and looked down at it. Inside the paper bag was a small paper box; he couldn't tell what it was. He looked up, wanting to ask more, but Ibuki had already turned and left. Her pace was fast, her heels making a crisp sound on the floor, and in a short while, she disappeared around the corner of the corridor.

Karuizawa stood in place, looking in that direction, silent for a few seconds.

"Are you going?" Karuizawa asked.

Hachiman looked at the paper bag in his hand. "Going."

Karuizawa opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but in the end, she just nodded. "Then be careful."

She turned and walked into the elevator. The elevator door closed slowly, swallowing her figure.

And Hachiman stood in the hall, holding that paper bag.

'Under the cherry tree.'

That was the sacred place for couples to confess their feelings in the school. It wasn't a place for dates; it was a place for confessions. Anyone who makes an appointment there wouldn't be unaware of what it means.

Hachiman took a deep breath, tucked the paper bag under his arm, and took out his phone to check the time—it was almost eight-thirty. Therefore, he pushed open the door and walked out of the dormitory building.

What he didn't know was that not far behind him, Karuizawa was sticking her head out of the window in the stairwell, watching the direction he was heading. Standing next to her was Ibuki.

"Didn't you leave?" Karuizawa lowered her voice.

"I didn't leave," Ibuki's voice was also very low. "I was going to watch anyway."

The two looked at each other and then followed him at the same time.

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