Later that day
something was still troubling Yukio. He brought his lunch to their
classroom and approached Urufu-kun. They seated themselves on
opposite sides of Yukio's desk, making good use of their status as
geek and loner friend. Chances were they wouldn't get disturbed.
After all, geekiness might be contagious.
“Isn't this
a bit too underhanded for you?” Yukio asked, referring to their
conversation that morning. “The club and Ageruman-san,” he added
to make Urufu-kun get the connection.
They sat in
silence while he allowed his friend to muse over the question.
Scattered sounds of conversations in the classroom reached him while
he waited for an answer. It was, he noted absent-mindedly, emptier
here than at the start of the year. Wakayama-san, and later,
Ageruman-san were the obvious reasons for their classmates to be
elsewhere. 3:1 was probably crammed beyond capacity.
“Underhanded,
yes, wrong, no. No one gets hurt,” Urufu-kun finally answered.
“Club or no club, guys will make passes at Christina anyway.”
After making
sure no one had noticed whom they were talking about Yukio shot
Urufu-kun a long glare.
“Sure, I'm
selfish, I admit that. Still, it's not wrong. I'm planning to make
this a club for the benefit of its members. I'm honest about that
part.” Urufu-kun removed his glasses and played with them in his
hands.
“And,”
Yukio said, fishing for more.
“And,”
Urufu-kun agreed, “I want to find out what happened to me. Some
kind of anchor in Sweden could help me with that. So you're right
about that part.”
“Look, you
went hiking in what passes for the Alps in Sweden, got caught in a
freak snowstorm and wound up in our Alps.”
Yukio watched
the glasses pass from hand to hand in front of him. They served no
purpose other than giving Urufu-kun the occasional headache. He had
perfect eyesight. Well, they helped keep up the illusion of
membership in geek squad, Yukio thought as Urufu-kun returned them
over his nose.
“About sums
it up, disregarding a sudden loss of 35 years, and the fact that the
older me has never existed.” Urufu-kun grinned back.
The
conversation had been interspersed with English whenever Urufu-kun's
Japanese was too poor to convey some concepts. You're changing,
and in doing so, you're changing me, Yukio thought while he
waited for Urufu-kun to continue.
“And how can
a club help me to understand? That's your real question, isn't it?”
Yukio nodded
“I don't
know, but I have to do something,” Urufu-kun continued. "Look, it
even gives her a way to speak Swedish if it comes to that.”
“If it comes
to what?” Yukio teased.
This time
Urufu-kun's face went all the way to a deep tomato red. Yukio knew
the reason wasn't any ulterior motives, but rather the thought
of ulterior motives. Urufu-kun was funny that way. One reason why he
made such a good friend.
A right way,
and a wrong one. No simple truths, because truth was relative. Still,
a right way, and a wrong one. Urufu-kun, a contradiction in terms
walking on two legs.
In the end,
after school, they agreed upon one week. If, in one week, Christina
still hadn't joined a club, and Yukio had gathered enough courage to
approach Takeida-san, he would venture over to 3:1 and ask not one,
but two questions.
“Be honest
with your feelings,” Urufu-kun had said, “but suggest starting
out as friends. That's the lesser commitment. Still, she should know
where your real interests lie. She'll know what you want, but it'll
be less awkward this way, and you can let things proceed from there.”
After that
promise they parted ways. Urufu-kun unlocked his bike and wheeled
down the street.
Yukio watched as Urufu-kun's
back vanished behind an office building. I
wonder what's on your mind.
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