Kurobe Nanoka didn't speak; her ears were red enough to start a fire.
Hachiman was silent for two seconds.
"So..." Hachiman's voice carried a hint of disbelief, "You really thought boys and girls could only hold hands after they started dating?"
Kurobe Nanoka lowered her head even further, almost burying it in her chest, her fingers tightly clutching the hairband.
"I... I just..." her voice was as small as a mosquito's buzz, "I just thought... that it would be more formal that way..."
Hachiman sighed internally.
This girl could calmly recount cruel facts like witch executions, governnt screenings, and parents reporting their own children only to disappear; she could see fragnts of the past and future through touch and make all sorts of attempts to protect her sister—but when it ca to the most basic interactions between boys and girls, she probably knew even less than he did about handling human relationships.
The contrast was so great it felt... surreal.
However, Kurobe Nanoka's current blush—the kind that spread from her cheeks to the tips of her ears and turned her neck pink—wasn't sothing that could be faked.
"Holding hands doesn't require dating," Hachiman said, trying to keep his tone sounding like he was stating common knowledge.
"Friends can hold hands, family can, classmates can too."
'So, the reason no one held hands with Hachiman during gas in elentary school must have been because they were all as pure-hearted as Kurobe. Yeah, that's definitely it.'
Kurobe Nanoka thought about it and then nodded.
"So..." her voice was still very light, "So it's okay even without dating?"
"It's fine. And to be honest, right now... my situation is a bit complicated. Adding a girlfriend or sothing wouldn't be good for your sister either."
Kurobe Nanoka was silent for a while, then whispered: "I'm sorry... I didn't know these things..."
"Nothing to apologize for," Hachiman said. "People just know different things."
He looked toward Kurobe Naoka. She was still sitting there, that shallow smile hanging on her lips, eyes looking forward, but her gaze was hollow and lacked focus.
"So, what do you want to do? Just touch her occasionally? Or do you need frequent contact?"
Kurobe Nanoka looked up, a glimr of hope in her eyes: "If it's possible... could you co by often? It doesn't have to be long—just a few minutes every day. Touch her hand, or touch her shoulder, say a few words to her... anything is fine."
"Say what?"
"Anything. Tell her what you did today, what you saw, talk about whatever. She might not understand, but... maybe she can feel it."
Hachiman gave it so thought.
"Won't she get annoyed if she hears too much?"
Kurobe Nanoka paused, and then the corner of her mouth twitched slightly.
"She used to talk a lot. She'd go on and on without stopping; I used to complain she was too noisy.
But now I want to hear her being noisy, and I can't..."
Looking at the bitter arc of Kurobe Nanoka's smile, Hachiman felt sothing in his heart get pricked gently.
"I understand. I can co for a few minutes every day, but..."
He paused and glanced at the classroom door. Though the hallway was empty now, other students might pass by after school.
"It's not very convenient here. Too many eyes and ears. Your sister's situation... and the things you ntioned... the fewer people who know, the better."
Kurobe Nanoka nodded, a flash of vigilance appearing in her eyes.
"Then... where should we go?"
Hachiman thought for a mont. The Service Club—few people went there normally. And as for Nikaido and Sakuraba... he'd have to let them know about the Witches eventually.
However, according to Kurobe's explanation, why were Nikaido and Sakuraba completely fine?
"Let's use the Service Club. We'll just treat it as your request. Tomorrow after school, bring your sister there."
Kurobe Nanoka's eyes lit up: "Is that really okay?"
"Yeah. But today... since we're already here, we can try it out first."
Hachiman walked over to Kurobe Naoka.
She sat there, that faint smile on her lips, her hair half-undone with silver-gray strands falling by her ears.
He reached out and placed his hand on the back of hers. Her hand was a bit cold.
What should he say next? He opened his mouth, but before he could make a sound, her fingers moved.
Her fingers curled slightly, and her fingertips lifted gently to brush against his—like a hand reaching out in the dark finally touching a wall.
Then her hand turned over, her fingers sliding between his, interlocking them gently. Palm pressed against palm, moving from cool to lukewarm, then from lukewarm to warm—like a body slowly waking up on a winter morning, regaining heat bit by bit.
Her eyelashes fluttered. Her light purple pupils slowly focused, pulling back from a void in the distance to the present, landing on their joined hands.
Hachiman looked down at her hand. She was holding his very tightly; he wasn't sure if he should pull away.
Kurobe Nanoka stood to the side, her lips trembling and tears falling from her eyes as she stared at her sister's hand interlaced with Hachiman's fingers.
"Sister," her voice was hoarse.
In Kurobe Naoka's light purple eyes, the emptiness was receding inch by inch, like water welling up from beneath parched earth. Finally, a human expression returned. Her gaze moved from their hands to Hachiman's face, lingered for a mont, then shifted away to land on her younger sister.
"...Nanoka."
Kurobe Nanoka stood nearby, her tears flowing even more fiercely. She opened her mouth, wanting to say sothing, but the voice was stuck in her throat, producing only a broken syllable.
Kurobe Naoka looked at her. Her lips moved, no longer forming that shallow, frozen smile from before.
"What are you crying for?" she said. Her voice was raspy, but her tone carried a hint of annoyance. "I'm not dead yet."
Kurobe Nanoka stood frozen, tears still hanging on her face.
Kurobe Naoka let go of Hachiman's hand and slowly raised her own toward her sister. Her movents were still a bit slow. Her fingers reached her sister's face and gave it a pinch.
"You've gotten thin. Have you not been eating properly?"
Kurobe Naoka pinched her cheek again and gave it a tug.
"And you're crying." Her tone beca even more dismissive. "You look so ugly when you cry."
Kurobe Nanoka's face was deford by the pinching, but she didn't dodge. She just stared at her sister, unable to stop the tears.
Kurobe Naoka watched her for a while and then sighed.
She released her sister's face and wiped away the tears with the back of her hand. The movent wasn't exactly gentle—it was even a bit rough.
"Fine, fine, stop crying." Her voice softened, sounding like she was coaxing a child. "Aren't I perfectly fine? I can talk, I can move, and I can even pinch your face."
She pinched again, lighter this ti.
"It still feels just as good."
Kurobe Nanoka's face turned red from the pinching, but the corner of her mouth twitched as if she wanted to smile but couldn't quite manage it.
Kurobe Naoka withdrew her hand and then looked at Hachiman.
"So, who are you?"
"Hikigaya Hachiman, from Class F."
"Hikigaya..." Kurobe Naoka repeated, as if committing the na to mory. "Do we... know each other?"
"We bumped into each other on the stairs on the first day of school," Hachiman said.
Kurobe Naoka thought for a mont, then nodded.
"Oh... I think I rember sothing like that."
As she spoke, she tried to stand up, but her body swayed. Kurobe Nanoka quickly steadied her by the shoulders.
Kurobe Naoka regained her balance, then looked down at her own hand before looking at Hachiman's hand—the one she had just been holding.
"So, why were you holding my hand, Mr. Pervert-classmate?" she asked Hachiman, her tone carrying a sense of sincere confusion.
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