We Hate Each Other, But It Started With a One-Night Stand - Chapter 3

In the one-room apartment that still seemed to carry Shinomiya’s sweet scent, Hatano faced the laptop on the desk. Midday sunlight streamed softly through the window before noon, and irregular, quiet keystrokes echoed as characters surfaced one after another on the display. Occasionally, she would correct mistaken conversions with an expressionless face, and as she repeated this process, the text piled up like a mountain. When she reached a stopping point, Hatano stopped her hands.

“…Haaah.”

With a sigh, she kicked off from the desk and rolled her wheeled chair to the bedside. She flopped onto the bed as if collapsing, rubbed the corners of her eyes, and pulled out her smartphone.

She had a lecture scheduled for this afternoon. In about ten more minutes, she’d have to start getting ready, or she’d be late. Today—it was a good time, she thought, to withdraw from the Literary Club. Announcing it would cause friction, so she wouldn’t say anything, but she needed to take back some of her belongings left there.

Thinking such thoughts, Hatano pulled her pillow closer and rested her head on it.

It had been a little over a week since the day she indulged in that act with Shinomiya. The sheets and pillow, freshly laundered, no longer held her scent, but considering all the bodily fluids that must have soaked in, she felt strangely unsettled. Suddenly checking the time on her smartphone, the date caught Hatano’s eye, and she went, “Ah,” remembering. Today was the day the new writer award selection results were announced.

She felt a slight leap in her chest. She had been confident she’d written a fairly masterful piece. She had already passed the second screening and was now in the third. If she cleared that, it would be the final selection. The award was within sight, and she had confidence—with some nervousness, she tapped the bookmarked results site and opened it.

There were ten who passed the third screening. Unlike before, she could check at a glance whether her name was there.

A few seconds after opening the site, Hatano gazed at the listed work titles and pen names, then with a deep, deep sigh, slammed her head into the pillow and tossed her smartphone onto the comforter.

—She had failed.

“…Shouldn’t have looked.”

Lying spread-eagled, Hatano muttered that into the void. Not looking wouldn’t have changed the result, but at least she could have gotten through today with some vitality intact. Right now, she felt like skipping university altogether. Then, with a clinging feeling, she looked at the site again and spotted a familiar pen name among them. [Shijima Shimama]—the name of her club’s president.

Closing her eyes, she bitterly acknowledged the gap in their abilities and let out a sigh she’d lost count of.

“…As expected.”

By the time the afternoon lecture ended, the sun was already beginning to set.

As originally planned, to retrieve her belongings, Hatano headed to the Literary Club room on the third floor of the club building. Normally, lending a room in the building to a Literary Club with ambiguous activity records, few members, and little profit or productivity would be exceptional treatment, but this too was a benefit of having Shijima, a student writer.

He really was something else.

Swirling jealousy and praise in her heart, Hatano opened the club room door. Inside, many members were already gathered, forming groups at several separated tables, chatting and laughing in their circles. They glanced briefly at Hatano as she entered, then returned to their conversations. Amidst this, Shijima, who as usual was jotting down story ideas while joining in the small talk, glanced at Hatano with an apologetic look. Understanding the meaning of his gaze, Hatano gave a wry smile.

“Congratulations.”

“…Sorry.”

Understanding that her praise also contained consideration, Shijima apologized with a genuinely sorry expression. Even as a published author, he wasn’t indifferent to contest results. He had probably already checked. One passed, the other failed. Normally, the one who passed should be considerate, but being in the opposite position was somewhat amusing.

“Don’t worry about it, really. I’ve already started writing my next piece.”

Saying this, Hatano grabbed the memo pads and reference paperbacks she kept in her locker and stuffed them into her bag. At her words, he spilled a praising smile.

“I see. That’s just like you.”

“That’s my line. …Make sure you win, okay?”

Theirs wasn’t an equal relationship. Hatano was merely an amateur, a so-called wannabe, while he was a pro. Telling him to win—it was unclear from what position she said that, but still, they were fellow members with the same aspirations, a relationship of mutual improvement.

Shijima nodded with a slightly happy, yet also ambitious smile.

“Of course.”

She was glad to hear that. Hatano smiled a little too.

Like Shinomiya, he was a person with outstanding ability. Whether it was talent or effort didn’t matter. It was just that his way of life, fully utilizing his abilities and aiming for greater heights—in contrast to Shinomiya—left a good impression. Not crushed by sympathy, carrying guilt but still advancing on his own path with steady steps. That was exactly the kind of pro she admired.

Well, though she felt reluctant to part with a pro like Shijima, the Literary Club now felt like a mixer venue. Better to head home soon and cleanly cut ties. As Hatano thought this and prepared to leave, Shijima looked lonely and seemed about to call out to stop her.

But someone cut in.

“What are you talking about?”

The one who asked in an oddly sweet, whispery voice was Shinomiya, wearing a bold outfit that exposed her shoulders. Unlike usual, her hair was tied back in a ponytail, revealing her beautiful nape, surely catching the eyes of many male members. At the sound of that voice, which brought the events of just the other day to mind, Hatano unconsciously stopped and looked at her. In response, Shinomiya glanced at Hatano but showed no further connection, instead fixing her gaze on Shijima.

“Ah, well… It’s about a novel contest. She submitted to the same award as me.”

“Ehh, that’s amazing! Did you pass, Shijima-san?”

“Yeah, next is the final selection. Not much I can do about it now, but I’m nervous.”

Though seeming unsettled by Shinomiya’s close proximity, Shijima smiled and replied.

As always, quite the seduction technique. —A scene and words no different from before. That it looked slightly different now was probably because she had heard her true feelings that night and shared her body. Catching a glimpse of Shinomiya glancing at the other girls present, Hatano was drawn to look at them too. Several appeared extremely irritated.

However, Shinomiya, who seemed to feed on such ill feelings, floated a happy smile, brought her fingertips together in front of her chest, drawing eyes to her modest yet undeniably present bust, and whispered sweetly.

“Well then, shouldn’t we celebrate today?”

Seeing the girls gritting their teeth from the corner of her eye, Hatano braced herself, thinking this might get troublesome. Perhaps she should make an early exit, she gauged the timing. But Shijima, unaware of such dynamics, couldn’t tear his eyes away from Shinomiya flaunting her sexual appeal nearby, his face flushing red as he raised his voice, slightly strained.

“N-no, I haven’t won yet!”

“Ehh, but just making the final selection is amazing. Or do you mean it’s meaningless unless you get a result?”

Seizing the moment, Shinomiya indicated Hatano with her eyes, implicitly pressuring him with logic, asking if Hatano’s efforts, having failed the third screening, were meaningless. Perhaps having no retort, Shijima was at a loss for words. But regaining a bit of composure, he clasped his hands apologetically.

“…I wouldn’t say that, but sorry! Still, I haven’t won yet, so I can’t let my guard down. Besides, winning isn’t the ultimate goal. The final target is further ahead, so I want to set aside more time to write. Today… no, precisely because it’s a day like this, I want to face it more.”

At Shijima’s earnest plea, Shinomiya showed a slightly bored expression. But just for a moment—not an act, but an almost envious look. Still, she quickly covered it with a smile and nodded.

“Is that so! In that case, I shouldn’t get in the way. But—I really am cheering for you. Do your best.”

With a gentle, smiling nikori, Shijima looked apologetic but relieved that she understood.

Suddenly, a guy listening to their conversation poked his face in.

“Then wanna go drinking with me? You’re free, right?”

“Ah, Shindo-san.”

Shindo—a young man with quite handsome features within this Literary Club. Tall and slender, yet reasonably muscular. A third-year like Hatano and Shijima, and Shijima’s friend since middle school. He and Shijima were the club’s two top good-looking members, sharing popularity within the club. Iizuka, who seemed about to interject, slumped his shoulders as if to say ‘tough opponent’ and listened regretfully to the exchange.

Shinomiya showed a slightly surprised expression, then glanced at the female members and relaxed her lips faintly. Immediately, she disguised it with a happy smile, expressing delight.

“Ehh, is that okay!? Well then, I’ll take you up on that offer~”

“I found a nice bar near the station. Quite a stylish place.”

“I’m looking forward to it! I’ll have to be careful not to drink too much.”

Shinomiya showed a gesture as if regretting her recent blunder, and Shindo laughed cheerfully, replying, “Yeah, I’ll keep an eye on you.” Hatano knew he was a self-admitted womanizer but not someone who went against reason. Plus, he was Shijima’s friend.

At the very least, he wasn’t the type to take advantage of drunk people, and with him, it should be safe. Thinking this, Hatano realized that her own relief meant she had been worried about her, and felt exasperated with herself. It seemed sharing a bed had stirred some affection.

With that way of life. Getting hurt someday would probably be her own fault.

That thought was fleeting, as suddenly a loud noise echoed in the clubroom.

The source was a third-year girl with particularly high influence among the female members.

The strong-looking, freckled girl seemed to have slammed a notebook she was holding onto the table, trembling with anger, her face flushed red as she glared at Shinomiya. Shinomiya asked the third-year girl—Sasaki—with a surprised look.

“What’s wrong, Sasaki-san?”

Tilting her head as if to say she didn’t understand, Sasaki shouted, spraying spit.

“Hey! Shinomiya-san. If you’re participating in the club with such frivolous feelings, could you please go home? You’re always just thinking about playing around with guys—don’t you ever think about the people working hard here? You’re the only one like that.”

Words packed with anger assaulted Shinomiya, as if spewing out everything pent up. Shijima made a face that said ‘this is bad’ and tried to intervene, but Hatano didn’t miss Shindo, with an amused expression, quietly stopping him.

This had gotten troublesome. Hatano scratched the back of her head and watched the situation unfold.

As Shinomiya looked surprised, Sasaki pressed on.

“Even Shijima-kun is busy with his writing activities, but you’re always inviting him to pointless things. Only thinking about yourself, you’re bothering us too.”

At Sasaki’s words, the nearby girls also began nodding vigorously.

But in Hatano’s opinion, aside from Shijima, everyone else just seemed to be fooling around. Originally, maintaining a clubroom at this university required activity records, but the only ones submitting records were Shijima and Hatano. And that was only accepted because Shijima was a published author, making the administration compromise. In reality, aside from those two, no one was doing any proper activities.

Shinomiya was unserious, but only Shijima or Hatano could point that out.

But what would Shinomiya say in return? Though not a mere spectator like Shindo, her way of life easily created enemies. Hatano was curious how she would navigate this. If she cried to Shijima or Shindo here, it could create quite a chaos, and indeed, perhaps that thought crossed her mind, as she seemed about to glance at them.

However, stopping the motion of her neck at the last moment, Shinomiya gave a troublesome-looking wry smile and retorted.

“That’s unfair, Sasaki-san. We’re the same, aren’t we?”

At the quietly stated fact, Sasaki’s face turned even redder, veins bulging. About to open her mouth in rage to say something, Sasaki was cut off as Shinomiya stood up.

“Sasaki-san, you don’t read books, do you? This is the Literary Club, you know?”

At the words delivered in her usual sweet, whispery tone, Sasaki was speechless. Then, reflexively trying to retort, she seemed to finally remember that fact, making a bitter expression. But she lied.

“I do! At home—I read a lot, so—”

“Heeh.”

Making a surprised face, Shinomiya lightly approached her side and, in order, touched and confirmed the snacks spread on the table, the entertainment videos on the video site displayed on her smartphone, and then the doodles and assignments written in her notebook. Following the order Shinomiya indicated with her hands, Sasaki, seeing them together, looked embarrassed and tried to argue back.

But Shinomiya cut her off, asking.

“And what ‘activities’ are those?”

“…A-at home—”

“Coming to the clubroom, talking about your favorite idols with friends. Eating snacks, working on assignments. Watching videos. That’s Sasaki-san’s activity in the Literary Club. Great, very healthy and typical, like a third-year university girl done with job hunting.”

With a slightly mean smile, Sasaki made a resentful face.

But Shinomiya didn’t ease her pursuit.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, Sasaki-san. In this club, only two people are active—Shijima-san and Hatano-senpai. Everyone else is the same—just enjoying pleasure without doing anything because it’s fun. The only ones working hard are those two. Using their efforts to exclude someone you dislike—that makes me a little angry too.”

At the anger glimpsed just beneath her smile, Sasaki bit her lip, her face crimson. It wasn’t the anger of disgust toward someone like before. It was shame for trying to hit a disliked girl with a righteous cause and getting beaten back.

Shinomiya floated a soft smile again and whispered sweetly.

“But, while I won’t accept Sasaki-san’s complaints, I won’t say you’re bad or deny you either. Because it’s fun, right? Living according to your desires—so, isn’t that fine? Since no one is troubled by it. Right? Hatano-senpai.”

So she’d turn it to me, Hatano, who had been somewhat drawn into her words, came to herself. Thinking ‘what a troublesome thing to do,’ she sighed and turned her back.

“…Doesn’t matter to me. I was planning to leave the club today anyway.”

Leaving only those words, she decided to go. The moment she said it, several pairs of eyes turned to her in surprise, and among them, her only comrade, Shijima, rose slightly in surprise, about to call out to stop her.

“Wait, Hatano—!”

She heard the voice calling her to stop, but Hatano left the clubroom without looking back.

She felt bad for Shijima, and truthfully, the mutual honing of skills and conversations among like-minded peers had been enjoyable. However, she couldn’t expect that from this club. People like Shinomiya and Shindo were one thing, but even Sasaki and the others were no exception. The gap in dedication between those who took things seriously and those who didn’t was what drove Hatano to this. Though she felt a little guilty, she ultimately reasoned that creative work was, by nature, a solitary act of confronting one’s inner self.

Watching Hatano’s retreating figure, Shijima bit her lip with a deeply lonely expression. Shindo, and even Iizuka, looked somewhat awkward. Sasaki and the others, having no real connection to her, had nothing particular on their minds, but Shinomiya wore an expression that was difficult to describe.

To Shinomiya, people who recognized “Shinomiya” as a person yet did not evaluate her were utterly worthless and undesirable. Those who harbored even a hint of romantic feelings or desire toward her left a favorable impression, and the jealousy or hostility that accompanied such emotions was something she relished. Therefore, she disliked indifferent people like Hatano the most. Yet, last week, in some drunken folly, she had entangled herself with Hatano.

She thought Hatano was attractive in appearance, and her character was quite good—one could even call her a person of integrity. Though she had a sharp tongue, she had done her best to see Shinomiya home safely despite her drunken state. Toward such a person, regardless of whether the feelings were positive or negative, Shinomiya couldn’t help but have some thoughts.

Still, there was no obligation to stop her, nor would it do Hatano any good.

This place was simply that kind of place now.

Glancing at Shijima, who was dejectedly slumping her shoulders, Shinomiya looked one last time at the door through which Hatano had left.