Labels and tags are convenient little things the world uses to classify people quickly — and because of that, they also box in anyone who can't be neatly categorized or who refuses to be boxed in.
Narumi often felt stuck between labels, never fully belonging to either side.
He was the kind of guy who was both sane and not, half-right and half-wrong, too tame to be edgy and too edgy to be tame—someone who wasn't quite OTT enough to be a caricature but listened to rock without going full rocker, looked like the kind of otaku who never leaves home yet sometimes passed as socially normal in certain circles. An awkward position to be in.
Normal people thought he was too weird; the actually weird people thought he was suspiciously normal — like a mudskipper nobody really notices on a dry African plain.
Still, the fastest way to get to know someone is to check the tags they've been given — inefficient in spirit, effective in speed. That's why new students at school go through the standard "introduce yourself and your likes" routine: tags help you find people with similar tastes.
Of course, if some people like labels, others hate them.
"Actually, everyone's just labeled people — no one's more noble than anyone else. What's funny isn't Quentin or Penicillin or Borges, it's the ridiculous peacocking of people who slap on 'I'm niche' tags and act like peacocks. Still, if you can watch a movie with someone who shares your tastes, that's not bad…" Narumi rambled.
"Are you trying to change the subject with that aimless monologue, Achē? If it were anyone else I might go with it — but not me." Haruno cut in.
"Uh… I honestly didn't mean that, Haruno-san."
At a highway rest stop late at night, Narumi got a call from Yukinoshita Haruno.
Predictably, she was checking on where they were.
"Looks like you're getting on well with little Yukino. Back in our day it took us ages to warm up to discussing these silly, empty topics," she teased.
Uh… so it wasn't just a location check?
"Anyway, no details from me — you haven't told anyone your destination."
Narumi shrugged and leaned against the roadside railing, glancing back at Yukino who was sleeping in the car.
"So don't put the Service Club kids in the hot seat — they don't know anything."
"You don't think you can hide forever, Achē."
"Of course not. I know it's only a matter of time before we're found. I'll stall as long as I can."
Yukino's sleepface was still pale and weak, but relaxed in a way that looked peaceful.
"You really do what you want… though that's the Achē I know — sometimes you go nuts for no reason."
No kidding — he'd probably pushed the sync rate over eighty percent with that brand of crazy.
"Mother's noticed. Even if you managed to avoid confronting her this time, you'll probably run into her later. Whatever happens, we'll meet again. Take care of little Yukino for me while I'm gone."
Haruno hung up and Narumi climbed back into the car. He tried to keep quiet, but the movement woke Yukino, who rubbed her eyes and said, without missing a beat,
"…That was my sister, wasn't it."
Yukino's intuition was sharp as ever.
"Yeah. We were spotted in under half a day."
Narumi nodded. He'd seen the dozen missed calls flickering on the phone beside her and understood why she'd put the device on silent.
"Family calls?"
"My mother."
Yukino switched the phone off and tucked it into the glove compartment, then yawned lazily.
"Sis's probably asking where we are," she said.
"She didn't say outright, but that's probably it."
"If she's tired of me and dumps me off somewhere or takes her car back, I'd understand, Achē," she added softly. Narumi knew that him daring to take her away at all had already exceeded anything she'd allowed herself to expect.
"If it gets too much, there's no need to force it."
For someone to sweep her out of that suffocating life was already more than Yukino had ever imagined. And that was enough.
"Not yet — we haven't seen the comet," Narumi said from over the steering wheel. He wasn't one to quit halfway.
"If a wish on that comet works, who knows."
"You really believe in that unscientific stuff, senpai…?"
"Whether it's credible or not, making a wish can't hurt. I certainly wish Yukino would get better. What if it actually worked?"
"You shouldn't say your wish out loud — it'll ruin it."
Yukino muttered, turning her head slightly; a faint pink on her cheek betrayed the cool indifference in her voice.
"Just pretend you didn't hear me. I'll whisper it quietly in my head when we get there."
Narumi teased her and, after a short rest, pressed the clutch and accelerated back onto the highway to Miyazaki.
Streetlights blurred by as the two drove; Yukino stared out the window at the passing landscape and saw her own reflection in the glass.
A colorless face, exhausted and worn — the composed, sharp aura she usually wore had gone. When would this nightmare-like simulation end? She didn't know.
What she did know was this: the young man beside her was the only person in the nightmare who made her feel safe and at ease.
Or rather, he might be the one who could pull her out.
If only that were true... she thought, then closed her eyes. Fatigue that should have made her miserable instead folded into a calm sleep.
"What would you wish for if wishes really came true, Yukino?" Narumi's blurred voice drifted to her ear before she fell fully asleep.
If I could make it real… I would want —
The thought died on her lips as sleep took her.
Narumi glanced at her unmoving face, smiled, and turned the music down a touch.
When Yukinoshita Yukino eventually voiced her wish — that was when this trip would finally reach its destination.