We Hate Each Other, But It Started With a One-Night Stand - Chapter 5

“Your room is as plain as ever, isn’t it?”

“The exit is over there.”

Hatano pointed to the window on the third floor that led outside, but Shinomiya ignored her and sat down on the bed.

This junior had been quite cheeky from the moment she entered the room.

In the end, after all that, Hatano had decided to lend her the room as requested. By the time they arrived at the house, it was already around 9 PM, a bit late for dinner. She had considered getting something to eat, but the atmosphere wasn’t right, so she didn’t feel like doing that either.

Shinomiya lightly patted the bed she was sitting on.

“I’m borrowing the bed.”

“Huh? Use the sofa. Use the sofa.”

Hatano waved her hand, urging her to get off the bed, but Shinomiya began unfastening the hook of her skirt.

“I can’t be satisfied unless I have enough space to move around. I’m already refraining from the act itself, so please be a little flexible.”

“…I’ll charge you for cleaning.”

“Do love hotel managers charge guests who dirty the bed for cleaning fees?”

“This isn’t a love hotel, and I’m not the manager, so I’ll charge you.”

“Then I’ll compensate you, so lend me a towel.”

Was this the compromise? If they were going to argue back and forth here, it would lead to the question of why she had let Shinomiya into her house in the first place. Hatano threw a couple of bath towels from the wardrobe at her. Shinomiya failed to catch them and took them to the face. With a muffled “oof,” she spread them out on the bed.

“Are you the type who’s bothered by sounds and such?”

“Not really. Do as you please—I’m writing a novel.”

“Ah, that’s right, you got rejected.”

It wasn’t said mockingly, nor was the topic treated like a sore subject. She had simply mentioned the information she knew. However, feeling a twinge of inferiority, Hatano faltered slightly for words. Tapping the laptop keyboard to wake it from sleep mode, she slowly nodded.

“Even so, I’ll keep writing.”

That’s just the kind of creature she was.

Words not directed at Shinomiya, but rather spoken to convince herself. Perhaps something in those words resonated, as the usually carefree Shinomiya averted her eyes from Hatano.

For a moment, silence dominated the room.

Shinomiya glanced at Hatano’s back and, as if to change the air, deliberately used a brighter tone.

“Oh, and no filming or anything this time, okay?”

“We concluded that was a mutual agreement, didn’t we?”

Hatano retorted, switching her expression to one of exasperation. Shinomiya let out a small laugh. Seeing this reflection in the laptop frame, Hatano understood she was being considerate. But perhaps it was tactless, she didn’t voice it.

There was no reason her mind wouldn’t be disturbed by a junior indulging in self-pleasure behind her. But that aside, she couldn’t exactly watch the act either, so there was nothing else to do but write her novel. Though not confident she could concentrate, Hatano faced her laptop and began typing.

After a while, the sound of rustling clothes began to weave through the tapping of keys.

When Hatano emerged from the changing area while drying her hair, Shinomiya who had finished bathing first was monopolizing the bed as if she owned the place, fiddling with her smartphone. Giving her a sidelong glance that seemed to say “You’re totally planning to stay, aren’t you?”, Hatano plugged in the hair dryer and sat at her desk.

“You’re awfully calm about staying over, aren’t you?”

“I’m tired, so please let me stay.”

Shinomiya rolled her cheek onto the pillow, looking at Hatano as if to say “You won’t refuse, right?”

They exchanged words calmly, as if they had completely forgotten the indecent spectacle they had shown each other. For both of them, it was more convenient to pretend the earlier conversation never happened.

“Go home once your clothes are dry.”

Having thoughtfully decided to at least wash the underwear and skirt soiled with bodily fluids, Hatano had done the laundry. Now, after her shower, she was running the bathroom dryer. For now, she had lent Shinomiya her own loungewear and underwear. A reluctant decision made after weighing the options of having her naked in the room versus letting her wear her personal underwear.

Hatano tried to refuse her proposal and start the hair dryer, but Shinomiya persisted.

“No way! Stooop!”

She flailed her legs and whined like a child. Hatano, resting her elbows on the back of her chair, looked at her with an exasperated expression and snapped back.

“You might have been spoiled and lived that way, but I’m not soft. Once your clothes are dry, you change into them and go home. The last train shouldn’t have left yet.”

When Hatano dismissed her like that, Shinomiya showed a slightly sulky expression—this time not an act. Seeing that expression, which seemed to blame Hatano, she recalled the words she had told her earlier: ‘I felt a bit more at ease with you.’ She didn’t know if Shinomiya had used that or had expectations because of it, but she felt somewhat guilty. However, she also resisted being swayed by sentiment.

“You wouldn’t feel comfortable staying in my room either, right?”

Hatano told her, her voice mixed with exasperation, but Shinomiya pouted her lips.

“…It’s just that, relatively speaking, I dislike you because there are many ‘people I like’ around me. Senpai.”

For her, being loved, acknowledged, or even envied and acknowledged was an expression of affection, and only those who did so were desirable people. Therefore, she didn’t like people like Hatano.

In other words, she disliked her relatively.

“Meaning you don’t hate me. I feel the same; our interests align.”

When Hatano said that, Shinomiya projected a complex emotion onto her expression and lowered her eyes.

“Better than being alone…”

She cut off her words there, didn’t continue further, and buried her face in the pillow.

“…It’s nothing.”

Hatano didn’t know what she was going to say next, but she had a vague idea.

Shinomiya hated being alone. She disliked being alone so much that even being in Hatano’s room was preferable. She hated dealing with things by herself.

She was essentially starved for connections with others. Did that become the basis for her inflated need for self-validation, or did her craving for self-validation lead her to pursue connections with others? The order wasn’t clear, but surely there was a close connection there.

Though Shinomiya, with her face buried in the pillow, didn’t move a muscle, Hatano confirmed with a sidelong glance that she wasn’t suffocating, shrugged, and asked.

“…Your family home?”

Hatano asked while booting up her laptop.

Shinomiya heard the question but didn’t answer immediately. Even after slowly raising her face, she showed signs of hesitation about whether to say it or not, then denied it.

“No, I live alone.”

Hearing that, Hatano gazed at the laptop screen booting up, started the hair dryer, and began drying her hair. For a while, she stared blankly at the LCD screen, lost in thought.

For both Hatano and Shinomiya, their ways of living were contrasting, and there were significant differences in their values. While she thought they could never be compatible, Shinomiya was becoming, for better or worse, a junior who required a lot of looking after. The detestable way of life and the faint, lovable glimpse of an ordinary girl within it. Those inseparable elements offered no choice but to reject them altogether or accept them altogether.

A deep sigh escaped unintentionally. Hatano looked past the laptop frame at Shinomiya, who was pouting and looking down.

It was easy to push her away because she disliked her. Precisely because of that, the act of acknowledging and accepting was praised as admirable. Not for Shinomiya’s sake, but to live in a way she could be proud of herself, Hatano turned off the hair dryer for just a moment and muttered in a small voice.

“…Be gone by morning.”

That was all. Without even looking at her, she muttered just that and returned to drying her hair.

Peeking at her past the frame with exasperation, Hatano saw Shinomiya’s eyes wide open in surprise. So surprised she sat up, making a blunt expression as if to hide her embarrassment, hugging Hatano’s pillow and saying something. The words were lost in the sound of the hair dryer, but Hatano was sure they weren’t insults.

By the time she finished drying her hair, Shinomiya was in high spirits, playing with her smartphone on the bed. Ignoring her, Hatano thought it was about time she made progress on her novel and steeled herself to face the laptop.

The moment she settled in, Shinomiya was the woman who poured cold water on it.

“Senpai, you’ve never won any awards or anything, right?”

Asked without a hint of remorse, Hatano’s finger, poised to type the first character, stopped. Feeling irritated at Shinomiya for bluntly pointing out the source of her inferiority complex compared to Shijima, Hatano softened her expression by channeling her anger into a sigh.

“…Are you making fun of me?”

“Wh-why are you being so insecure?! I just asked!”

“You were talking about it enough in the clubroom, so you know, right?”

Even as Hatano said that, Shinomiya tilted her head with an expression that seemed to say “Was I?”. Hatano wanted to poke her forehead, which wore a vague smile, but she restrained herself and affirmed.

“…No.”

“How many years have you been writing?”

Hatano looked at her, about to ask what she meant by suddenly starting with questions, but understanding from her expression that she wasn’t someone weaving words to mock her, she closed her half-opened mouth. Simultaneously, her thoughts turned to the possibility that Shinomiya was trying to meet her halfway, even if just a little. Reluctantly, she answered.

“Four years.”

“Have you been submitting to awards the whole time?”

“Yeah. Since around the end of the first year, continuously.”

Hatano answered curtly. Shinomiya, still hugging the pillow, showed a pensive gesture. Then, cautiously, she began to speak. Her expression was serious.

“…This is a question with absolutely no intention of teasing, okay?”

Her eyes shifted from Hatano to the display.

The story of a girl, a forward in the girls’ soccer club born without talent, growing through conflict while being compared to her childhood friend, the ace striker. A coming-of-age sports novel that wasn’t trendy these days. As if drawn to the way of life fighting through anguish and conflict, Shinomiya asked with a dark expression.

“Isn’t it painful? Not being evaluated by anyone.”

The words seemed directed at Hatano, yet also seemed to be confirming with someone deep within Hatano’s eyes. The question, which felt like it was and wasn’t about her, held not mere curiosity but an undisclosed true feeling.

Realizing that, she simply spoke her mind without dwelling on it.

“Of course, it’s painful. That’s why I write—to make them evaluate me.”

Instantly, Shinomiya’s eyes wavered with turmoil. She looked down as if ashamed of herself, bit her lip, and said nothing. While finding her behavior strange, Hatano who had known from the start that Shinomiya was carrying something—didn’t try to meaninglessly gauge the unfathomable emotions. She simply answered the question as desired.

“I won’t say everything, and I’m critical of that method too but I don’t think your need for validation is something to be entirely discarded. There are parts I can understand.”

With those closing words, Hatano finally turned back to the display.

Ignoring the dark expression forming on Shinomiya’s face behind her, she quietly began typing on the keyboard.