"Fujiwara, according to Darwin's theory of evolution, humans evolved from ancient apes. So… when do you think humans stopped being apes and became something more advanced?"
Chika didn't understand why Hara Kei suddenly brought this up, but out of trust, she paused to think carefully.
"I remember the teacher said… [using tools]?" she tried to recall. "No, that's not it—monkeys can use tools too…"
Suddenly, she remembered what Hara Kei had said before. "It's [walking upright], right?"
Hara Kei nodded.
"Modern biology generally agrees that bipedalism—the ability to walk upright—is what marks the appearance of humans and distinguishes us from other primates. The earliest human fossils discovered so far date back three million years, and they're considered human because their pelvises and leg bones show evidence of upright walking."
"The significance of walking upright is huge, but it's not really what I want to talk about," Hara Kei said tersely. "What I want to discuss is the downside of bipedalism—or rather, the 'curse.'"
"That is… 'all humans are born premature.'"
This statement was entirely new to Chika. She had never heard anything like it before. But, then again, this was obscure and strange knowledge; it wasn't unreasonable that she didn't know.
Still… why mention it now?
"In general, large mammals like humans are born with the ability to survive independently. But because humans walk on two legs, our pelvises had to become narrow. As a result, infants must leave the womb before they're fully developed."
"You've seen this too, right? Calves and foals wobbling to stand as soon as they're born—so adorable. But human babies? They can't even tremble on their own. They just lie there, helpless."
"That's evidence of incomplete development. In other words, a human baby is born as an unfinished product."
"To become a 'finished product,' they must undergo various trials—parents, grandparents, siblings, doctors, neighbors, teachers, and so on. In this sense, becoming a true human requires passing through a long and winding 'birth canal' of experiences."
"Fujiwara Chika," Hara Kei said solemnly, abandoning the usual polite 'Fujiwara-san,' "whether the parents raising you are your biological parents, I honestly don't know. But I do know this: your parents deserve credit for raising the kind, beautiful person you are today."
"Whether you decide to seek confirmation from them or not, I hope you remember this in your heart."
Hara Kei didn't offer advice. Encouraging her to confront her parents—or telling her to bury her head in the sand—didn't align with his way of handling things. He had neither the obligation nor the mental preparation to intervene further.
All he could do was provide a possible hypothesis and let Chika recognize the care her parents had given her.
Then, why did he bring up all this extra stuff, mixing in talk of curses and bipedalism? The reason was simple—he was stalling.
"Ding-ding-ding-ding~~~!!!"
Hara Kei was waiting for the class bell to ring.
"!!!" Chika, who had already been emotionally swayed by Hara Kei, jumped at the sudden bell. Hara Kei, with precise timing, grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the classroom.
Coincidentally, this was Hirasawa Shizuka's Japanese class.
Being the homeroom teacher, Hirasawa had a fondness for class president Chika. Just by casually saying after class, "It seems Fujiwara Chika has something on her mind," the strict but caring teacher would fuss over her like she was a precious treasure. Unlike Hara Kei, Hirasawa was a natural guardian. With her involved, nothing foolish would happen.
As for how Chika's situation would ultimately resolve… Hara Kei had no idea. He was just a boy who preferred solitude, not a magical wish-granting cup. No strange expectations, please.
…
Chika could feel the warmth of Hara Kei's hand through his sleeve.
She obediently stood and followed him down the stairs.
'Hara Kei is amazing.'
Although she had glimpsed his abilities during the Toma and Sa incident, experiencing it firsthand revealed just how reliable and strong he truly was. It was as if nothing could trouble him.
'Being near Hara Kei gives a strange sense of peace.' This was the rumor among the girls in class. Chika had once dismissed it as just gossip, but today's events proved otherwise.
Yet in this comforting presence, she forgot one thing—why had she even gone to the rooftop during break with the approved key in hand?
…
On the rooftop.
A monstrously ugly dog lay sprawled on the ground, looking thoroughly dejected.
Its name was Pes—Chika Fujiwara's pet.
Chika had brought Pes along, planning to confide in it about things she couldn't say at home. But now, she already had a better confidant and had completely forgotten about Pes's presence.
Pes glanced longingly at the locked door, then slumped into the shadow on the rooftop.
'Why hasn't my owner come yet?'
That was thought number one.
'I'm so hungry.'
That was thought number two.
…
The next day, during lunch break.
"I heard from Hirasawa-sensei that this club is still short by one member," Chika said to Yukinoshita Yukino. Her face had cleared; yesterday's dejected expression was gone. "If possible, can I join?"
"Chika, you haven't joined a club yet?" Yukino asked. Clearly, this wasn't the first time she'd met Chika. Hara Kei vaguely remembered Chika mentioning she had tried and failed to befriend Yukino.
"I got a lot of invitations," Chika said awkwardly, "but if I chose one, the other clubs would be upset. Clubs here compete for both funding and space; the relationships aren't exactly warm."
Indeed. This school had both kinds of students—some like Yukino, too unpopular to join a club, and some like Chika, too popular to decide. In a way, it was a strange symmetry.
But now, they were all members of the same club.
"Hara Kei," Chika said, her radiant smile in front of him, extending a pale, delicate hand. "Please take care of me from now on."
Yukino could hear this bold statement as well.
'And, my mother really does have the Bombay blood type.' That, however, only Hara Kei could hear.