Hachiman tossed and turned, burying his face into his pillow.
The alarm hadn't rung yet. He glanced out the window; the sky was just beginning to brighten. Gray-blue light shone in through the gap in the curtains, casting a thin line across the floor. He stared at that line for a long ti, his mind cycling through everything from last night.
Kurobe Naoka's fingers, Kurobe Nanoka's tears, the hairband folded into a bow, and what they had said.
Witches, lists, executions, and Komachi.
He closed his eyes and opened them again; the line was still there, and the sky seed to have brightened slightly. He rolled over and pulled the quilt over his head. The quilt was cold; he had been lying there for too long, and his body heat had all been absorbed.
He didn't know if he had fallen asleep—maybe he had, maybe not. The things in his head had churned all night, giving him a headache.
By the ti the alarm went off, he was already putting on his school uniform.
When he went downstairs, Komachi had already set out breakfast: miso soup, fried egg, and pickles. She sat across from him, resting her chin on her hand, watching him.
"Onii-chan, you didn't sleep well last night?"
"It was alright."
"Alright?" Komachi tilted her head. "Your dark circles are almost down to your chin."
Hachiman didn't speak. He picked up his chopsticks; the fried egg was a bit cold, but the miso soup was still warm.
"Onii-chan." Komachi's voice ca from across the table.
"Hm?"
"Is there sothing you want to tell ?"
Hachiman's chopsticks paused. He looked up at Komachi. She sat there, tilting her head, a hint of a smile on her lips, but her eyes were very serious.
"No," he said.
Komachi watched him for a while. "Really?"
"Really."
"Then why were you suffering from insomnia last night?"
"I was up too late reading manga."
"Eh, I don't believe that."
Hachiman didn't reply. He lowered his head and continued eating, and Komachi didn't press further. She stood up and started clearing the dishes.
The sound of the faucet in the kitchen started up—whoosh, whoosh—drowning out everything else.
Hachiman sat at the table, looking at the empty bowl across from him. He wanted to tell Komachi everything—the Witch situation. He knew he should tell her.
But he couldn't get the words out. He didn't know how to start. He was afraid she would be scared, afraid she would worry, afraid that she would live every day in fear from now on. He was even more afraid that she might say, "Onii-chan, I have that ability too."
He didn't know which outco was worse.
"I'm heading out." He stood up.
"Take care on your way," Komachi's voice ca from the kitchen, just like every other morning.
Hachiman pushed open the door. When he reached the intersection, he stopped to wait for the red light.
Standing next to him was a girl in a school uniform, a head shorter than him. She wore her golden hair in twin tails that reached her waist, carried a school bag, and was gnawing on a piece of bread. She glanced at him, her green eyes filled with a touch of disgust, then turned away. The green light turned on, and she walked across first, her school bag swaying behind her.
Hachiman stood there, watching her back. In two years, Komachi would also be wearing that uniform, carrying that kind of bag, and waiting at this intersection for the red light. He didn't know what the world would look like in two years, didn't know what Komachi would beco, didn't know if he would even be around then.
He took a step and crossed the road.
When he reached school, the prep bell hadn't rung yet. Hachiman walked toward the classroom with his head down. He didn't want to talk to anyone; he just wanted to flop onto his desk, close his eyes, and think of nothing.
He pushed open the front door of the classroom.
Sakuraba Ema was already there. Hearing the door open, she looked up, and when she saw it was him, her eyes brightened—but then her expression changed.
"Hachiman-kun..." her voice was very soft, "you look terrible."
"I'm fine." Hachiman walked to his seat and sat down, hanging his school bag on the side hook.
Sakuraba watched him, her lips moving as if to say sothing, but she swallowed the words. She reached into her pocket, fumbled with her phone for a mont, and put it back.
Saeki, sitting in front of him, sat with her back straight, her pen stopping and starting on the paper. Hachiman glanced at her, and she happened to look up at the sa ti. Their eyes t, and Saeki imdiately averted her gaze, lowered her head, and continued writing without saying a word.
Hachiman was taken aback. He opened his mouth to say sothing, but his head hurt too much. His brain felt like mush.
'Forget it.'
He buried his face in his arms and closed his eyes. The classroom was noisy, but he didn't want to hear it. He just wanted to sleep.
He didn't know how much ti had passed—perhaps a few minutes, perhaps longer—but the noise in the classroom suddenly fell silent.
"Class, we have a new student joining us today," the horoom teacher's voice ca from the podium. "She's been absent due to a leave of absence, but she has finally returned to class."
Hachiman lay on the desk without looking up.
'New student, absence, returned to class'—these words slid through his mind without leaving a trace. He just wanted to sleep.
A rustling sound erupted in the classroom.
"Who is it?" "Is it a guy or a girl?" "Look, look!"
The voices suddenly exploded. Soone gasped, soone shouted "Wow!", soone was hitting a desk, and soone was yelling, "So beautiful!"
Hachiman buried his face deeper. It had nothing to do with him. He didn't need to know who the new student was, didn't need to know what they looked like, didn't need to know where they ca from. He just needed to sleep.
Footsteps ca from the direction of the podium, the sound of geta clacking against the floorboards. The sound cut through the classroom, through the noisy chatter, getting closer and closer until it stopped right next to him.
"Darling, wake up."
The voice was sweet, so sweet it was as if it were coated in syrup. Hachiman's body stiffened.
He slowly lifted his head.
Sunlight shone in from the window, landing on the person standing there.
Black, playful, short bob-cut hair with slightly curled ends. A black mini-top hat was perched askew on the left side of her head, adorned with a small purple flower, black feathers, and a purple ribbon. Her purple pupils were incredibly alluring in the sunlight.
She had a beauty mark under her left eye.
Her attire was completely different from everyone else in the classroom: a black-based kimono printed with white flowers and a fox mask. One side featured a black-and-white diamond pattern, the other a deep purple base. She wore it off-the-shoulder, revealing her collarbone and a black lace choker. Her wide sleeves hung down, covering half of his desk.
The kimono-style dress featured a high slit revealing a purple ruffled hem. A large purple bow was tied at her back. She wore black lace gloves on her hands, white tabi-style socks, and black ankle-strap high-heeled sandals adorned with purple ribbons on the toe.
She stood in front of Hachiman, leaning forward slightly, her hands resting on his desk, offering a glimpse of her cleavage, letting Hachiman feast his eyes.
Houshou Margo.
She smiled, her eyes curving, the corners of her mouth tilting up to reveal her teeth.
"Long ti no see," she said. "Did you miss ?"
The classroom went silent for a second, and then it exploded into chaos.
(End of Volu 3)
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