Chapter 40: Kasumigaoka Utaha's Confession!
Aki Tomoya was an otaku.
A perfectly stereotypical one, if anything even more extreme than the average.
Just as someone hopelessly love-addled might throw everything away for romance, Tomoya was capable of giving everything for the things he loved as an otaku.
That passion had earned him a certain degree of fame and respect within otaku circles.
But in ordinary social life, it did nothing to erase the prejudice and discrimination people held toward him.
So when Kasumigaoka Utaha thanked him, valued his opinions, and even actively pursued him, it would be a lie to say Tomoya hadn't felt proud.
Especially because Utaha was practically untouchable at school.
Beautiful, accomplished, and known as a "genius writer."
How could Tomoya not become somewhat inflated when someone like that seemed willing to listen to him?
It even gave him a sense of superiority over the people who had once mocked him.
That satisfaction was something outsiders could hardly understand.
What Tomoya had never imagined was that the Utaha-senpai who had once seemed almost at his beck and call would someday speak to him like this.
Her previous words had punctured the fragile bubble between them.
And once punctured, it shattered instantly.
"...Senpai, I've never treated you like a tool."
Unable to hide his panic, Tomoya smacked his lips nervously before forcing his emotions down and speaking in what he believed was a sincere tone.
Utaha didn't soften.
She kept her arms folded and calmly watched every trace of his unease.
"You're not about to tell me that you see me as a precious companion and want us to pursue our dreams together, are you?"
Her lips curved faintly.
"Very passionate. Very inspiring."
"But I'm a creator too, Aki-kun. That kind of speech isn't going to work on me."
In novels and anime, especially stories aimed at otaku, it often seemed as though adding enough bonds, dreams, and friendship could overcome anything.
Utaha had never written that kind of story herself, but she'd seen more than enough of them.
She admitted that such themes were popular in fiction.
But this was reality.
Did he seriously think a few passionate words would move her that easily?
Her preemptive strike hit Tomoya exactly where it hurt.
Because that was, in fact, almost exactly what he'd intended to say.
Now that route had been blocked before he could even take it.
Tomoya opened his mouth blankly, desperately searching for another argument.
Nothing came out.
"Aki Tomoya, stop trying to come up with some dramatic line."
Utaha's voice remained calm.
"Because there's one thing you still haven't understood."
"Your dream has nothing to do with me."
"If you want me to work for you, then you need to offer me something worth my time."
Her eyes sharpened.
"Not meaningless ideals that consume hours of my life while giving me nothing in return."
Previously, Tomoya himself had been enough.
Utaha had willingly accepted him as the reason.
But now that she'd discarded that reason, Tomoya needed to offer something else.
The blunt, almost nakedly transactional way she put it left him completely speechless.
What exactly did he have to offer?
"I... Senpai, have you forgotten?"
Tomoya finally found something to grasp.
"I helped you before. Without my promotion, your book..."
"Stop."
Just as she'd expected.
Tomoya really did reach for that old favor.
But something being effective once didn't mean it remained effective forever.
A favor had value.
Yet if someone kept spending that favor again and again, its value would inevitably depreciate.
Utaha acknowledged that Tomoya had helped her.
But she would never allow him to live off that kindness for the rest of his life.
Besides, Saku had already made her realize something.
Even if Metronome in Love had failed to take off, she could simply have written another book.
If she genuinely possessed talent, then sooner or later she would've found an opportunity to shine.
The only difference would've been how long it took.
And Utaha firmly believed she had that talent.
Seen from that perspective, Tomoya's help was no longer an obligation large enough to bind her indefinitely.
"I acknowledge what you did for me."
Utaha looked directly at him.
"But that alone isn't enough to make me obey everything you say."
"You asked me to write a script for your game, and I agreed."
"I'll honor that promise."
Her tone cooled.
"But that's all."
Tomoya visibly relaxed.
As long as she still recognized that promise, there was hope.
"Senpai... then you aren't leaving the club, right?"
A smile almost returned to his face.
"Thank goodness. Now I can finally relax."
Utaha fell silent.
And in that instant, Tomoya confirmed everything she'd just accused him of.
Even now, what he cared about most was whether she would remain useful to his club.
So perhaps Saku had been right all along.
"No."
Utaha's answer immediately erased Tomoya's relief.
"I'm leaving the club."
"I have plans of my own now. I'm not going to stay there wasting my time."
She paused.
"But I will keep the promise I already made you."
"Provided, of course, that you eventually produce a mature, workable proposal."
Utaha wouldn't go back on her word.
But neither would she continue sitting beside Tomoya indefinitely while he accomplished nothing.
And if she was going to invest her time in someone's grand vision of the future...
Saku's was clearly larger, more convincing, and far more appealing.
Without waiting for Tomoya's response, Utaha turned and left.
She was informing him of her decision.
Not asking for permission.
Whatever opinion Tomoya had no longer mattered to her.
He remained on the rooftop, staring after her for a long time.
Only when the bell signaling the end of break rang did he finally come back to his senses.
Tomoya descended the stairs in silence.
Looking down the empty hallway, he was finally forced to accept one thing.
Kasumigaoka Utaha wasn't staying.
What he didn't yet realize was that his club was already on the verge of falling apart.
...
After school, Tomoya went to the clubroom out of habit.
Perhaps because the day's events had hit him harder than he'd realized, he arrived later than usual.
When he opened the door, however, he discovered that every member who should have been there was present.
Eriri.
Megumi.
And even Utaha.
"Senpai?"
Tomoya's eyes seemed to light up again.
"You came!"
"Tomoya..."
Eriri's face was bright red, and her chest was still heaving as though she'd just gone through an intense argument.
Tomoya didn't notice.
His attention was entirely on Utaha.
"I only came to say a few things to Eriri."
Utaha didn't even raise her eyelids.
Her gaze remained fixed on the blonde girl in front of her, carrying a trace of pity.
"Talk?"
To Tomoya, those words sounded almost unbelievable.
In his understanding, Utaha and Eriri "talking" was practically synonymous with arguing.
Then he noticed Eriri's agitated state and immediately felt as though everything made sense again.
"We weren't talking!"
Eriri snapped.
"This fat woman came here to convince me to leave!"
"What?!"
Her answer struck Tomoya like a lightning bolt.
Michiru was gone.
Utaha was leaving.
If Eriri left too, what exactly would remain of his club?
"Senpai, what is this supposed to mean?"
"I simply wanted Eriri to have a better place to use her talent."
"That's too much!"
Tomoya immediately rushed forward and planted himself in front of Eriri.
"Eriri isn't leaving!"
That gesture instantly moved Eriri.
Her eyes softened as she stared at his back with such deep affection that she probably would've looked at a dog the same way if it stood there protecting her.
Utaha's eyelid twitched.
"...Maybe you're right."
No one understood Eriri's current state better than she did.
When Eriri looked at Tomoya like that, even the most eloquent argument in the world wouldn't shake her.
If that was the case, continuing would be pointless.
So after saying those words, Kasumigaoka Utaha simply turned around and left.
…