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Miko sat across from Ishigami at the low table in the center of her room, scanning a manga magazine that Osaragi had brought over. Occasionally she put it down and listlessly flicked an empty snack wrapper. Other times she slumped and closed her eyes, her soft brown hair falling over her face. She appeared to be absorbed in the faint holiday music playing from a corner of the room. Near her on the table stood an empty bottle of strawberry Calpis. The time, according to the digital numerals on their phones, approached midnight.
For the second time that night, Ishigami questioned how exactly he had ended up alone with Miko Iino on Christmas Eve. Of course he remembered; it was just that a year earlier, he would never have imagined this scene. After all, at that time his life mostly revolved around his infatuation for Tsubame-senpai.
As another member of the student council, Miko had usually been there, but like a shadow, not quite friend nor enemy. Regardless, she didn't have nearly as much presence back then as she did now. Ishigami was reluctant to admit it, but during freshman year he often thought of her as a small yappy dog who needed to constantly be watched, lest she get herself in deep trouble. And though he understood that she was hardworking and generally kind, there was definitely truth to this comical portrayal.
Meanwhile, Ishigami toyed with a cup of coffee, already half an hour old. Beside him was his Nintendo Switch, the screen pitch-black. It had run out of battery an hour ago, and he hadn’t brought a charger. Not like he had many chances to use it, though.
What remained of the coffee was two, maybe three sips if you stretched it. But it was already awfully bitter. He considered excusing himself to dump it in the bathroom sink, but refrained out of politeness. He swirled the liquid contemplatively.
Wait, why did he need to be polite with Iino? There was no one else here anymore.
It had been a crowd earlier—Osaragi and her new boyfriend, an upperclassman she had hooked up with two weeks prior. Ishigami acted cordially to them, but secretly predicted that they’d break up soon, maybe around New Year’s. Just a hunch. Onodera, a fellow sophomore with sharp eyes, had also joined the party, but had gone home before eleven.
Her parents were away, too. But that was apparently the norm for this household.
Miko yawned, took a small santa-shaped chocolate from a bag on the floor, unwrapped it and popped it in her mouth. It might’ve been the fourth one, or the fifth. Ishigami wasn't counting. She munched on it pleasantly as she flipped another page of manga.
Yeah, there was really no need to be polite if she was going to unashamedly pig out on sweets in front of him.
Ishigami checked his phone again—11:57 pm—then mumbled something about the restroom.
He got up from his cushion, three-sip mug in hand, and quietly exited the warmth of the room. He didn’t look behind him, but he felt a pair of eyes on the back of his head. When the door finally clicked shut, he breathed a small sigh. He stood a moment in the dim hallway.
It’s still Christmas Eve, huh.
The dark liquid spilled out onto glowing ceramic and slowly disappeared down the drain.
While washing his hands, he became lost in thought for a moment, reminiscing on the past year. The cool water rushed over his fingers.
It was during the previous Christmas that the relationship between him and Miko began to change, becoming less like two shadows occasionally passing by each other, and more like two outlined figures clashing, finally making eye contact. Or did it actually start during the Culture Festival, when he gave her a heart-shaped charm without much thought? It was hard to tell exactly.
Either way, the past year had brought them closer emotionally. And there were times when he saw the figure of Miko Iino sparkling, and around her phantom azaleas bloom. A smile brought forth pure white. And laughter took the form of bold pink petals. A pretty mirage...
This mirage was exactly what troubled him so much.
…
“Maybe I should go.” Ishigami said. He stood beside a wall lined with books on Miko’s left, his eyes running over the multicolored spines. It was five minutes past midnight.
“Didn’t you just come back though? I don’t need to remind you of my house's layout."
Ishigami felt like face-palming, but ended up ruffling the bangs over his eyes instead.
"No, I mean… everyone else is gone. It’s probably time for me to go home." He said, shifting his weight. He stared at a hard-backed volume titled "Economic Law in Japan". What a lofty, foreign subject, he thought. Yet he felt a tiny bit curious.
"Well, uh… leave if you want to, but it's not like I mind if you stay. I don't really have anything better to do, and it's better than being alone on Christmas Eve, anyway." She didn't look up from the magazine, but there was a twinge of embarrassment in her expression. It seemed like she only realized what her words implied immediately after they came out of her mouth.
So she actually wants me to stay, and on a night like this. Ishigami pondered for a moment, then went to sit at the table again.
"Alright. But don't blame me if I miss the last train home." He glanced at Miko's face, and caught her blush before the color quickly faded away.
So that's how it is. Well, that's not so bad.
Iino was silent. She’d been doing that more often recently.
Yeah, she likes me, right? For a while now it seems. And, well...
He knew what came at the next line of his thoughts, but felt embarrassed to finish it. He was in denial.
The silence that had until now felt so comfortable was suddenly invaded by an awkward tension. And so Ishigami aspired to clear it away as soon as he could. Naturally, this could take several routes, depending on the intended conclusion and choice of dialogue… no, life wasn’t a visual novel! His hand grasped and squeezed a section of fabric from his pants.
Ishigami finally decided on the straightforward, familiar path.
“Hey, Iino.”
“Hm?” She looked up, eyes slightly widened.
Ugh, she’s actually cute when she does that… Ishigami bit his lip and continued.
"If you're bored, why don't we play a game?"
"A game? Um, sorry, this isn't Fujiwara-senpai and the student council. I'm not really in the mood for such…" Miko looked down again.
“Well, if you say so.” Ishigami picked up his phone and began to scroll through it. It was an immediate distraction to temper his hidden feeling of defeat.
Soon after, however, she abruptly closed her manga and stared at him again, this time with resolve.
"Actually, I change my mind," She said. "What kind of game?"
The empty bottle of Calpis had been converted into a prop for their game. Ishigami and Miko took turns spinning it on the surface of the table, seeing whose half the cap would point towards when it stopped. And when it stopped, that person had to answer a question about themselves, sort of like personal trivia. Ishigami also added the option of requesting a dare, as an alternative to the trivia.
Spin the bottle! A party game enjoyed by youth across the world. The classic version involves kissing the person the bottle points to, but a more innocent variation with truth-or-dare is often used as well. Ishigami decided on the latter version of the game.
And in this way thirty minutes flew by, with the two discovering strange facts about each other: embarrassing childhood memories, celebrity crushes, and favorite flavors of cake, among some.
One time Miko even threw the bottle at him in frustration, but Ishigami dodged it skillfully. It was an epic gamer moment.
It grew later and later, until the game began to get tiring. Ishigami spinned the bottle with less vigor, and Miko took longer to respond to his questions. At some point the moon was visible, shining from the window.
“Alright, how about this for the last round—whoever it lands on… has to do whatever the other person wants!”
She suggested such a thing in her intensely sleepy state. Ishigami questioned her idea internally for a moment, then agreed to her suggestion. She was having fun, and after all, how dangerous could it be?
Maybe just a little bit dangerous, considering the context. For that last spin, the cap pointed toward Ishigami.
He said it himself—guys are perverts. And he couldn't deny that he felt the tiniest bit perverted holding onto this delicate girl, peering down at her dark eyelashes and soft shoulders. But even if he felt that way, he knew better than to meddle with a sleeping person. So he didn't move, and decided to observe Miko's face a little while more. It was small and pale, like a doll’s.
As he sat there, her lips twitched and she mumbled something inaudible. A moment later, it happened again, and this time Ishigami actually caught what she was saying.
"...Yu-kun…"
Ishigami instinctively blushed in surprise at the sudden use of his first name. He was careful not to stir. It would be bad if she woke up now. She was clearly in the lightest phase of sleep, a half-dreaming state, so of course she might say something out of the ordinary, unconscious of the fact.
But still… that meant that she was thinking about him so much that he even entered her dreams, the world of her deepest fears and desires. His fingers trembled at the thought. He wasn’t one to take relationships, or psychology for that matter, lightly.
Moreover, only a few people called him by his first name- the President, Tsubame-senpai… only his upperclassmen. Never Iino. It was always "Ishigami, next time I'll confiscate that" or "You know Ishigami, I never expected you to be so nice to me".
More recently, it had become things like "Hey Ishigami, want to walk home together?" or "Ishigami, I'm having at Christmas Eve party at my house. You can come. Only if you want to, though".
And here they were now, just the two of them. Miko was falling asleep in his arms…
...upon her final request, a dare to Ishigami.
Be like my teddy bear.
“You’re hopeless,” He muttered. His bangs covered only half of the red warmth that continued to flush across his face.
He probably imagined it, but it looked like her lips were mouthing words.
“You too.”