A Hostility Born of One-Sided Rivalry
Chidori Kaname stared at her watch. It was 12:28 p.m., and the second hand inched slowly yet steadily across the dial. They were almost at lunch break, but the class showed no signs of ending. For some reason, their modern lit teacher was just rattling on about the folk religions of Haiti.
“I mean, Voodoo is its own legitimate lifestyle, featuring wisdom passed down through generations. Zombies are purely an invention of movies...”
Three minutes ago he was telling us about the life of Natsume Soseki, thought Chidori. How’d we get to zombies, exactly? “Ngh,” she muttered to herself. “If you don’t have anything worthwhile to talk about, just let class end already...” She glared death at the teacher, but he didn’t seem to notice.
She could hear footsteps and chatter in the halls; another class must have let out early. She could even hear the sounds of running...
Geh, this isn’t good... Desperation began to contort Kaname’s typically attractive face.
Jindai High didn’t serve student lunches, but a local bakery—Hanamaru Pan, from the shopping street near the station—set up a kiosk there during the noon break. They served pretty good stuff there. Pizza rolls, croquette rolls, yakisoba rolls... they all tasted great. Everything, that is, except the plain rolls, which they always had a ton of left over at the end of the day.
You wanna talk zombies, that’s where you’ll find ’em... Kaname thought. When lunch break hit, students who didn’t bring their own lunch typically swarmed the kiosk and fought over its inventory. Anyone late to the party was resigned to a cruel fate: the leftover plain rolls. She didn’t even want to think about that. No butter, no jam, just plain and boring... bread.
A poor lunchtime indeed. Just the thought of it filled her eyes with tears. Ahh... I want a custard roll, she thought wistfully. Sweet but not too sweet; tender, with custard that melts on the tongue... An extravagant lunchtime indeed. Just the thought of it filled her mouth with drool.
But... this stupid teacher! she thought angrily.
“—and then Sam Raimi made those utterly ridiculous movies. Of course, I love The Quick and the Dead and the like with their comically over-the-top killing scenes reminiscent of the Hissatsu! series, but—”
Just then, the chime signaling the end of fourth period rang out. The modern lit teacher stopped mid-rant and looked up at the ceiling.
Kaname’s fingers rapped loudly on her desktop. A few other students in the classroom began to rise from their seats, edging their toes in the direction of the door.
Hurry...
“Let’s see, is there anything else...”
Come on, hurry!
“Hmm...”
Can’t you hear me telling you to hurry?!
“Okay, class dismissed.”
The instant the teacher spoke, Kaname shouted, “Rise! Bow!” Then she, the one leading the end-of-class formalities, raced out of the classroom and dashed full-speed down the hall. Overtaking a few other students, she approached the steps and... “Geh.”
The stairwell area was crowded with students who had just finished gym. She’d lose at least fifteen seconds wading through them. She had to find a shortcut!
Kaname threw open a nearby window and leaped without hesitation. “Hah!” She landed on the roof of the bicycle parking stand and ran, the sheet metal banging below her with every step. Her positioning meant that any boys standing below could look up her skirt, but she didn’t care. She’d put on her gym shorts in advance, having anticipated just this course of events.
Reaching the end of the roof, she alighted to the ground below, her momentum uncompromised as she raced for the school’s front entrance. She almost hit a first-year girl coming around the corner but managed to avoid her with a dazzling display of footwork.
There! The Hanamaru Pan kiosk stood to one side of the entrance. It was already surrounded by hungry students, whose numbers were only growing.
“One wiener roll and one Pikachu roll, ma’am!”
“Curry bread and an Anpanman!”
“French toast and a deep-fried roll!”
They shoved and shouted over each other, looking like brokers during a stock market crash.
Kaname gripped her 500 yen coin and charged into the fray. The crowd jostled her, but she didn’t flinch. She proceeded through their sweaty ranks and shouted at the top of her lungs, “Croquette roll and custard roll, please!”
It was intensity that mattered here—even the slightest timidity would get you ignored by the bread-seller lady. Please reach her, voice of my soul!
Then, after a moment that felt like eternity...
“Right, 390 yen,” the lady responded, sliding a croquette roll and custard roll into a bag.
I did it! At last! Kaname sighed in relief, handed over her 500 yen coin, and took her change and rolls. With a pleased smile on her face, she exited the crowd the same way she had come.
“Mwa ha... ha ha ha... I did it,” she muttered in satisfaction, just as she noticed Sagara Sousuke standing nearby. He was wearing his usual sullen expression and tight frown, scowling thoughtfully into the crowd around the kiosk.
“What’s up, Sousuke? You here for baked goods too?” Kaname asked.
He folded his arms in response. “Affirmative. I’ve run out of dried meat and vegetables. But I don’t think I’ll be able to buy anything in this state...”
Kaname couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of the battlefield-raised boy looking so timid. “Oh, come on, that isn’t like you. They really will sell out if you don’t hurry, though.”
“I wouldn’t want that.”
“So bust in there! Go on!” Kaname gave Sousuke a shove.
“Hmm...”
“The old lady will ignore you if you don’t shout out your order. It’s all about intensity!”
“I see. Intensity...” He nodded, then walked to the edge of the crowd. He straightened up, took in a deep breath, then shouted, “Hand over the plain rolls!!!”
“...”
“I demand a plain roll!”
“Um, dude. If that’s all you want—” But just as Kaname was about to clap a hand over his mouth, Sousuke drew his handgun from the holster on his back!
“Hand over the plain rolls, now! Do it, or I’ll kill everyone here!”
“Hey!” she protested.
Blam! Sousuke fired a warning shot into the sky. The students, stunned by the sound of the shot, immediately moved. All the pushing caused someone to trip, and they fell into a few others, causing those students to lose their balance—and one by one, the dominos fell.
“Ah...”
Rustle! Skreeeee... crash! The table lined with baked goods, and the woman behind it, were both crushed under the surge of student bodies.
That day, after class, in the student council room...
“Two weeks to recover, apparently,” said the student council president, Hayashimizu Atsunobu. He was a young man with a clever appearance, wearing a white high-collared uniform with wire-rimmed glasses and slicked-back hair.
Sousuke and Kaname sat in folding chairs, facing him from across his desk. They both looked exhausted. Following the... incident, Kaname had given Sousuke a thorough scolding.
“Two weeks, eh?”
“Yes. The nurse who performed first aid said the woman’s injuries weren’t severe, but that the baked goods kiosk would likely be on hold for a while. I think she intended to imply some criticism with the statement.”
“Hrmgh...” Sousuke and Kaname both groaned and folded their arms.
“This would be a serious issue vis-a-vis class provisions,” said Hayashimizu, who stood and turned away from them to gaze out the window. He was looking down on the athletic field where the baseball and track clubs were having practice. “Reliable polling suggests that approximately 88% of our students bring their own lunch to school,” he continued. “This includes those who buy lunches from convenience stores on the way. That leaves 120 students, all of whom rely on baked goods, going hungry. The results of starvation are easy to predict: violence, looting, moral depravity... school security will be severely compromised.”
Sousuke nodded in agreement, his face ashen.
Kaname slumped beside him. “Um...” she mumbled, “Jindai High’s not exactly some developing nation...”
“The principle is the same regardless,” said Hayashimizu. “Polite society survives only as long as the food stores are packed. We can’t expect reasonable behavior from bloodthirsty students suffering from starvation.”
“I don’t think anyone’s gonna be that upset about a little lunch...”
A light shone in the student council president’s eyes. “Don’t you? Today, I saw a girl running over the roof of the bicycle rack in order to reach the bread kiosk faster.”
“Geh...” Kaname was stunned into silence.
Ignoring her, Hayashimizu reached for the drawer of his desk to pull out a sheaf of papers and a notepad. “I have talked things over with our principal, and we’ve decided to have the student council procure and distribute our own baked goods for the time being,” he told them. “The funding will come from the treasury, and one of our own will be appointed to manage it.”
“Not me,” Kaname said instantly.
Sousuke’s brow furrowed. “Chidori. That seems rather irresponsible. Looking back on how the incident unfolded, I believe we owe this to the people,” he said knowingly.
Kaname’s chair clattered as she launched to her feet, her arm immediately in a sleeper hold around Sousuke’s neck. “You owe it! You, singular!”
“Egh...”
Hayashimizu gazed calmly at the merciless throttling. “But Chidori-kun,” he said, “I’ve received reports from witnesses that you ‘egged Sagara on.’ Now, if you are willing to testify that you bear no responsibility whatsoever for the incident, I can let you off the hook... But can you?”
“Geh...” When he put it that way, Kaname couldn’t claim that she was completely innocent. She did feel responsible for her failure to stop Sousuke, whose limp body she now released. After glancing evasively around the room for a while, she said, “Okay, fine! I’ll do it, okay?”
“Excellent,” Hayashimizu agreed, and offered her a brown manila folder. “The documents are here. There’s a list of things to buy as well. Take care of it.”
After finishing their discussion with Hayashimizu, Sousuke and Kaname left the student council room. “Boy, what a pain in the ass...” Kaname grumbled.
“It’s nothing to worry about. I’ll handle the work. You don’t have to do anything,” Sousuke said confidently.
Kaname side-eyed him. “No way. Nothing good comes of leaving things to you.”
“That’s not true,” he protested.
“You’re planning to buy some weird dried meat or gross army rations, right? Because they’re cheap?”
“How did you know?” he asked after a pause.
“It was super obvious!” Kaname said scornfully. “Sheesh...”
Sousuke folded his arms with a frown. “But you’re wrong about field rations not tasting good,” he insisted. “The US Army’s MREs are particularly edible. You’ve tried them, haven’t you?”
Kaname had once tried a bite of a US Army field ration kit that Sousuke had brought during lunch. The taste was... pretty rough. “That mushy tuna with noodles? That’s not fit for human consumption. It smelled like plastic and the texture was weird. No wonder soldiers go to war; I’d be cranky too if that’s what I ate all the time.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works, exactly...”
“Anyway,” she said, “I’ll handle all the procurement and selling, so you just sit back and watch.”
“Hmph.”
And while they were talking...
“Madame Principal! I simply don’t accept this!” They heard a deep male voice from around the corner. A large-framed teacher was stalking after a middle-aged woman—the principal—who was walking swiftly away from him.
The man was around thirty, wore his hair in a crew cut, and was dressed in a tracksuit. It was the gym teacher, Kogure Ichiro. He was also the school’s guidance counselor, and the students generally disliked him.
“Leaving everything up to the students goes far beyond encouraging independence! It’s just irresponsible! It’s anarchy!” Kogure insisted.
The principal responded with a scowl. “Stop worrying! It’s just a few weeks of lunch!”
“Wrong!” he retorted. “Have you forgotten it was the students who caused the accident in the first place? Yet after all that, you want to put them in charge of food and drink... it’s unacceptable!”
“Just think of it as an extension of the school festival,” she told him placatingly. “You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”
“But—”
“There’s nothing else to discuss!” The principal waved as if to declare the conversation over, then disappeared into her office. Mr. Kogure stopped in front of the door, cursed under his breath... and then, for the first time, noticed the presence of Sousuke and Kaname.
“He’s looking at us. I think he’s mad,” Kaname whispered.
Sousuke’s expression didn’t change. “Really?” he asked indifferently.
Just then, Kogure strode up to him. “Well, well, if it isn’t Sagara. You’re looking well. Hard to believe you just got finished sending someone to the hospital,” Kogure said, sarcasm on full blast.
“I’m honored, sir.”
“That wasn’t a compliment!”
“Yes, sir!” Sousuke said, snapping to attention.
Kogure just glared at him in response. “Well, it’s perfect timing. Let me use this moment to make one thing clear...” The gym teacher stabbed at Sousuke’s chest with his finger. “Listen up, Sagara! I won’t tolerate students like you and Hayashimizu throwing your weight around any longer. You people are worse than the delinquents. You act like you’re so prim and proper, but I can tell you’ve got contempt for the teachers. I can’t openly defy the principal and the PTA, but I’ll put pressure on you in my own way!”
“Yes, sir!” Sousuke responded, his back still ramrod straight.
The response seemed to have gotten on Kogure’s nerves, because his shoulders began to tremble. “Y-You’re mocking me again! Just you wait!”
“Yes, sir. I am waiting!”
“Y-You...!” A vein bulged on Kogure’s forehead and his mouth flapped in impotent rage. In the end, unable to find the right words to chew Sousuke out with, he turned around and left.
Kaname just watched from behind. “Sheesh. Has he got a calcium deficiency or something? You’d think a gym teacher would be better about taking care of his health...”
“I believe Mr. Kogure is merely playing the role of drill instructor. That rage is the true sign of a professional,” Sousuke said with utter sincerity.
Kaname just looked at him in disbelief. “Are you just really bad at picking up on hostility from others?” she asked.
“Hm? What do you mean?”
“Oh, never mind... But, boy, old man Kogure has it out for you now, Sousuke. This is bad news,” said Kaname, folding her arms with a thoughtful scowl.
“Do you think so?”
“Yeah. You should really be careful. He’s a pretty crafty guy. If he doesn’t like a student, he’ll find an excuse to yell at them in gym and force the entire class to do laps. It sucks.”
Hearing that, Sousuke’s brow furrowed. “What’s wrong with that?” he wanted to know. “It’s standard practice for the entire company to take responsibility for the failings of one soldier.”
“...”
“The class must function as a single organism, and it’s Mr. Kogure’s responsibility to prepare us for missions,” he insisted. “I think it’s a fine practice.”
“Maybe you ought to tell him you think that... It might make him pretty happy,” Kaname said with a sigh.
Mr. Kogure returned to the gym teachers’ office and sat down in his chair. “I just don’t like it,” he mumbled.
Kogure Ichiro had first come to Jindai High two years ago, yet he still hadn’t adjusted to the school’s laid-back atmosphere. There were several things that earned his ire in particular—drinking, smoking, lapses in dress code, and destruction of property—and the mood around this school was that such things were generally permissible. He had briefly attempted to spearhead morning inspections, but the other teachers didn’t share his enthusiasm, and at some point, the practice had died out.
Still, it wasn’t like the school was a hotbed of immorality. Perhaps because its academic ranking was on the higher end, the students who got in were relatively well-behaved. There were a few who smoked, but there was no serious drug usage. They were smart enough to understand that such things were dangerous, and none of them had the kind of home troubles that would lead them down that road. When someone did cause trouble, the others’ response was largely the same: “Him again?” “Yeah, typical.” “Oh well.” Both the teachers and the students simply accepted it. It was a truly strange school.
There was no place for a teacher like Kogure Ichiro at such a school, and Sagara Sousuke was the embodiment of everything he despised. Why did the other faculty members simply tolerate him despite the trouble he caused? Kogure himself would never tolerate it, and found it bizarre that they could. And thus, over time, Kogure Ichiro had developed a strong dislike of Sousuke.
He was nursing a can of coffee with a scowl when one of his fellow teachers called to him. “Did you hear, Mr. Kogure?”
“Hear what?”
“That Sagara kid is going to run the bakery kiosk tomorrow,” said the other teacher. “Of course, Chidori-kun will be with him. I just hope they don’t cause any more trouble...”
“Oh?” said Kogure. This was the first he’d heard about it. He was already against the idea of students selling baked goods at lunch, and now Sagara Sousuke was going to be in charge of doing so? That was even more intolerable! He had to find a way to disrupt it! He couldn’t stop them openly, but he could arrange a bit of sabotage. Something that wouldn’t lead the principal back to him...
Kogure thought quietly for a few moments, then clapped his hands in realization and let out a nasty chuckle.
The next day...
During a long break in between second and third periods, a kei-truck had stopped in front of the school. It was filled with orange cases. Sousuke and the driver from the bakery handled the grunt work, while Kaname stood nearby with a clipboard. It was her job to quickly count the rolls in each case and check the inventory against their invoice.
Once the unloading was complete, Kaname scowled as she questioned the young man from the bakery. “You’re twelve yakisoba rolls short and twelve gratin rolls over.”
The young man scratched his head. “Ah... Looks like there was a small mistake. They’re the same price, though. Can you make do for today?”
“Hmm... Well, if you insist. We did impose on you pretty suddenly, after all,” Kaname admitted. “Just make sure you get the order right starting tomorrow, okay?”
“Sure, thanks.” The young man from the bakery smiled ingratiatingly, then took his kei-truck and left the school behind.
“There are no plain rolls,” Sousuke said, as he looked over the cases.
“I didn’t order any,” she told him. “I asked for as few of the other unpopular baked goods as I could, too. We can’t afford to have any left over, you know?”
“Oh, really?”
Kaname, noticing Sousuke’s vague expression of disappointment, said, “Wait, are you telling me that you wanted to eat the plain rolls?”
“Oh, no...” Sousuke turned away innocently. Then he pulled out the waterproof tarp he’d brought from the student council room. He arranged it to cover the stack of cases (which stood about the height of a washing machine) before adding weights to the corners to hold the tarp in place.
“That should do it,” said Kaname, clapping her hands together decisively. “Now we just have to wait until noon to start selling.”
“Will we be doing the selling all by ourselves?” Sousuke inquired.
“No way,” Kaname told him. “I asked a few people for help. When we said that they would get first choice on purchases, they agreed to help immediately.” Then she tucked her clipboard under her arm and strode swiftly back to the classroom.
It occurred to Sousuke in that moment just how well organized she was. Kaname was quick-witted and exacting; perhaps there was a reason she had been appointed both Student Council Vice President and Class Representative.
At the same time, that meant there was nothing for Sousuke to do. He felt perfectly extraneous.
Actually... Staring at the tarp-covered stack of cases, he reconsidered.
“We’ll be doing passing practice in groups of three! Ten minutes of that, then we’ll do a scrimmage!” Mr. Kogure said to his students after the warm-up exercises were completed. The boys, dressed in tracksuits, began kicking around the randomly scattered soccer balls. It was fourth period. “I have some business to take care of,” he then said to a nearby student. “I’ll be back soon.”
Then Kogure left the athletic field behind, stopping by his office to remove a small plastic bag from a drawer in his desk.
“Mr. Kogure, are you looking for something?” asked one of his colleagues, who had that period off.
“No, nothing,” he said, avoiding his colleague’s gaze as he shoved the bag into a pocket of his tracksuit, swiftly heading for the school’s entrance. Classes were in session, so the area was more or less deserted.
To one side of the door sat a stack of cases, covered by a waterproof tarp. These were the baked goods that Sousuke and Kaname had bought.
Kogure smiled. How irresponsible of them to simply leave it lying out here... “Maybe I need to teach them a lesson.” He let out an evil chuckle as he checked the contents of his plastic bag one more time.
Insect legs—about thirty of them. They were actually grasshopper legs, sold as bird feed, that he’d bought from a local pet shop. But they looked exactly like cockroach legs. It would be a disgusting sight for anyone who got one in their roll. Sousuke and Kaname would be blamed, their impromptu business would fail, and the student council’s budget would take a huge hit. It would be the end for not only Sousuke, but for that insufferable oaf, Hayashimizu, as well.
“Heh heh heh...” Kogure felt sorry for the students who would be buying the rolls, as well as for the bakery... but that was just their bad luck. They should just be grateful he didn’t mix in arsenic or cyanide.
Truly, it was the thinking of a terrorist.
“Now I’ll show you, Sagara, you bastard...” Kogure Ichiro took in a deep breath, then tore off the waterproof tarp that Sousuke had placed on top of the cases.
Five minutes before the end of fourth period, Sousuke and Kaname received permission from their teacher to leave class early.
“Okay, the hard part’s coming up. We’re going to have to deal with over a hundred students shoving their way in,” Kaname said, apron in hand.
“What should I do?”
“Nothing. You don’t even know the names of the rolls, do you?”
“Hmm...” Sousuke grunted in frustration.
As they came out to the entrance, they saw a group of female students already gathered around the baked goods cases. These were the salesgirls that Kaname had asked for help: students from athletic clubs that Kaname had done favors for, as well as younger students from the student council—they looked colorful and charming in the aprons they’d brought.
The waterproof tarp was already gone when they arrived. One of the salesgirls was just about to reach into the baked goods case, when...
“Don’t touch that!” Sousuke barked.
The girl stopped, startled. “Wh-What?!”
“What’s wrong, Sousuke?”
“Well... it occurred to me that someone might try to steal the rolls. So, I rigged the case with a trap.”
Sousuke reached for the car battery he’d attached behind the case and removed the cables attached to it with clips. Then he poked at a small transformer beside it, probably prepared in the physics room. “This emits a high voltage current designed to knock out whoever touches it. The amperage is high, so the consequences will be severe. Even after they regain consciousness, they’ll deal with aftereffects such as headaches, vomiting, heart palpitations, shortness of breath, lethargy, and more.”
“Youuu...” Kaname pulled her fan from somewhere-or-other, and was about to smack Sousuke over the head with it, when...
“Hang in there, Mr. Kogure!”
“The taxi’s on the way now. We have to get him to a hospital—”
A group of adults moved past them. A pair of gym teachers were supporting Mr. Kogure, who was looking pale and limp.
“Are you all right, sir?” Sousuke asked.
Kogure looked at him with hollow eyes. “You... You...” That was all he could manage before his head drooped back down and his colleagues carted him away to the school gate.
Kaname and Sousuke watched him go. “Vertigo, you think?” Kaname asked. “It’s really got to be some kind of vitamin deficiency...”
“He does have a taxing job that requires frequent outbursts of anger. It’s most likely overwork,” Sousuke speculated wisely. “I pity him.”
They chatted back and forth as they set up the kiosk. They lined up the cases on top of long tables, which had been borrowed from the student council room. Then they laid out the change, plastic bags, and other details.
“I forgot to mention it before,” said Kaname, “but don’t set something like that up tomorrow.”
“You mean the electric trap? But—”
“I said no!”
“Very well...” Sousuke sulked.
Then the bell rang, and the students began to crowd around. The baked goods sold out at a rapid pace, and everyone commented positively on their quality.
The next day...
Kogure, still not completely recovered from the high-voltage current, arrived at school on uneasy legs and somehow managed to make it through to third period. He then slumped over his desk in the gym teachers’ office and let out a long groan.
He hadn’t been expecting a nasty trap like that. What a coward that boy was! All he’d wanted to do was mix in some bug legs with the rolls...
When the bell to signal the start of fourth period—Kogure’s break period today—rang, his fellow teachers left the office, leaving him behind there. He waited about twenty minutes for things to quiet down and hauled himself to his feet. He picked up the paper bag he’d prepared and headed for the front door.
Once again, the baked goods cases that had been brought in after second period lay beneath a waterproof tarp.
“Damn you, Sagara...” Mr. Kogure whispered. “I’ll get you this time.” With that, he pulled a pair of rubber gloves from his bag and slipped them on. Insulation was the key to foiling an electric trap. Now he could sabotage the baked goods.
He examined the contents of the small bottle he’d pulled out of his pocket, which contained a white powder made from crushed laxative tablets. He’d prepared it after deciding the insect legs alone just wouldn’t do the trick.
One dose of this would give any students who ate the baked goods upset stomachs, causing a disruption similar to a food poisoning panic. The principal’s trust in the student council would plummet, and Sousuke and Kaname would be held responsible.
“Heh heh... Get ready for this one...” Kogure let out a nasty laugh, then stripped the waterproof tarp off of the case.
Five minutes before 4th period ended, Sousuke and Kaname were once again given leave by their teachers and left their classroom early. Their math teacher didn’t look happy about the situation, but did agree to let them go. Apparently, the principal had given her approval at some kind of staff meeting beforehand.
“Now, let’s keep up the big sales today!” Kaname declared confidently. She’d been pretty annoyed about having the job forced on her originally, but now she was really raring to go.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” Sousuke observed.
“Oh? Maybe I am. I think I might be cut out for this kind of work!”
As they reached the entrance hall, they saw that nobody else had arrived yet. Sousuke and Kaname were the first ones there.
“Hm...” Sousuke frowned, noticing that the waterproof tarp, which was supposed to be over the cases, had been stripped off.
Kaname, not seeming to notice, said, “What’s wrong? Oh... The tarp. You think the wind blew it off?”
“I don’t know. Nothing seems to be missing.” As he said that, Sousuke reached for the topmost case to remove a small, dark green gas cylinder.
“What’s that?”
“You forbade me from using high-voltage electricity,” he reminded her, “so I prepared a different trap.”
“...”
“I rigged it so that anyone who strips off the waterproof tarp will get a face full of tear gas—more specifically, a riot control agent known as Adamsite or DM. It causes a burning sensation in the eyes, nose, and throat, as well as difficulty breathing, headaches, nausea, and other symptoms—”
“Youuu...” Kaname pulled her fan from somewhere-or-other, and was about to smack Sousuke over the head with it, when...
“Hang in there, Mr. Kogure!”
“The taxi is on the way now. We have to get him to a hospital—”
Mr. Kogure passed by, dragged along by two of his colleagues. His eyes and nose were red and swollen, and his face was soggy from tears and snot. He seemed limp again today.
“Sir? What’s wrong?”
At the sound of Sousuke’s voice, Kogure looked up in anguish. “D-Damn you...” But that was all he could manage before he slumped over and was dragged away to the front gate.
Sousuke and Kaname watched him go, and each expressed their own opinion.
“Hay fever, you think? Some people get it pretty bad...”
“A kind of nasal inflammation due to allergies, yes. It’s impressive that he came here despite his chronic illness.”
After recovering from their surprise, they began working at setting up the shop. Then their helper students arrived and began tending to their various duties.
Kaname, now wearing her apron, said, “Oh, right. No more of that Adam-stuff starting tomorrow, okay? No more electric or gas traps of any kind.”
A furrow appeared on Sousuke’s brow. “But what about my anti-theft measures?”
“I said, no traps of any kind!”
“...Very well.” If she insisted, he had no choice. Sousuke decided he wouldn’t set any more traps.
The lunch period arrived soon after, and the hungry students began to crowd around. Once again, the baked goods sold quickly, and there were no complaints of any kind.
The next day arrived. Mr. Kogure had spent the entire night laid up with a headache and a cough, and arrived at school that day looking exhausted.
Blasted Sagara! he thought. First electricity, now tear gas... It was all so cowardly. Had anyone ever met such a nasty little student? Hadn’t he ever considered his victim’s feelings?! All he was trying to do was sabotage the students’ baked goods!
You’ll pay this time! You will absolutely pay! Kogure Ichiro burned with one-sided thoughts of revenge.
When fourth period began, he barked at the students in his class, “Twenty laps around the athletic field! And another ten laps for every person who slacks off!” He ended in a near scream before turning away and leaving the athletic field behind. He stopped by the gym teachers’ office, picked up his bag, and headed for the entrance where the baked goods kiosk sat.
He put on his insulated rubber gloves as well as a gas mask. He’d forced himself out of bed the night before to buy them from a military surplus shop.
“And...!”
On top of that, he’d added the bulletproof vest and helmet he’d bought in anticipation of further traps, plus the anti-flash sunglasses he’d prepared just in case. He should now be safe from anything short of a bomb.
“Ha ha... It’s perfect!” Having fortified himself with all imaginable defensive measures, Kogure pulled out a bag of blasting powder from his bag, as well as twenty sewing needles. After everything that had happened to him, he wouldn’t settle for anything less. He also retrieved the laxative and insect legs he’d failed to use the past two days.
“I’ll give you everything I’ve got!” Whispering in a voice that brimmed with madness, he stripped off the waterproof tarp.
No traps... he realized.
He removed the lid of the topmost case.
No traps here, either.
The custard rolls lay exposed, defenseless.
“Eh...?” Slightly taken aback by the anticlimax, Kogure picked up one of the sewing needles. Then, with a hard swallow, he stuck it into a custard roll.
No issues. It was a success.
Lofty accomplishment brimmed in his chest. His heart blazed with a wicked excitement.
Well, Sagara?! Now you’re finished! He’d completely lost his mind. With a mad cackle, he inserted another needle, then another. “Bwa ha ha... Take this!”
“Hello?”
“Take that! And that! Well?!”
“Excuse me?”
“Learned your lesson yet? Take— eh?” He quickly looked up and realized that a middle-aged woman in a suit was standing over him.
It was the principal. Her face was pale and her eyes were wide as she stared straight at Kogure. “Mr. Kogure,” she said, “what in the world are you doing?!”
“Eh? Ah... well...” He racked his brain for ideas—anything, anything that could explain what he was doing. However...
He was wearing rubber gloves, a gas mask, a bulletproof vest, and a helmet, while inserting needles into the students’ baked goods with a mad glint in his eye. There could be no good explanation for that.
Ten days after Kaname’s kiosk business began, Hanamaru Pan returned.
The students had made a healthy profit off the baked goods they’d sold in the meantime. Beginning on day four, Sousuke had learned how the business worked, which lifted some of the burden from Kaname.
“I mean, sheesh!” It was lunchtime, the day the standard sales resumed. Kaname sounded like she was in high spirits. “I can’t believe we made it through safe and sound. At the start, I was really worried you’d blow up the kiosk or something. But what a great ending!”
“I agree,” said Sousuke, nodding firmly. “I’m pleased that we were able to pull it off safely as well.”
Just then, one of their classmates, Tokiwa Kyoko, came running. “Hey, guys! Big news!”
“What is it?”
“Remember how Mr. Kogure’s been off since last week? They say he’s been suspended!”
Kaname and Sousuke looked at each other in shock.
“You think he really is sick?” she asked.
“Most likely,” Sousuke said. “His health seemed extremely poor last week.”
“That’s scary.”
“It’s a shame. He really was an excellent teacher...” Sousuke whispered with rare introspection, chewing on his plain roll.
〈A Hostility Born of One-Sided Rivalry — The End〉
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