Yahari Ore no Seishun Love Come wa Machigatte Iru - Volume 10.5 - Chapter 3

3

There lies the deadline they absolutely cannot fail to make.

The clubroom seemed colder than normal.

Since we’d told Miss Hiratsuka about the clunking heater, we’d been asked to refrain from using it until the repair technician came to fix it.

The clubroom was unoccupied during the day, so this had minimal effect on our lives, but it was a different story after school. We needed to perform our duties as the sun was slowly setting, and the temperature was dropping. This meant that despite being indoors, I had my scarf tight around my neck. The only other heating device in the room was the electric kettle.

Except that wasn’t its intended use. As always, the electric kettle was being used purely for boiling tea. But its humidifying effect helped; little wisps of steam were better than nothing.

It’s hard for humans to adjust to losing a comfortable lifestyle and go into “starvation mode.” Whenever I felt the cold air radiate off the floor, my hand would stop moving instead of turning a page in my paperback.

The club hardly got any visitors anyway. If I was just going to be killing time, I’d say my house was definitively more comfortable. I could even go to Starbucks or something, even if I felt a little out of place, and it might be better to read while surrounded by pretentious types (lol). Anyway, why is it that those pretentious types (lol) at Starbucks deliberately choose seats by the window to type away on their MacBooks and show off their new books? Do they want to be those bugs that stick to the window at night?

Well, it would be hard to read at the popular Starbucks. In that sense, the sparsely populated clubroom was superior. I wasn’t averse to the quiet and cool atmosphere. But in the winter, the coolness really revved up a lot.

My spot was right by the wall adjoining the hallway. This wall was so thin, we could have been in a cheap hotel room. It would be more accurate to call this a panel. So it was not much to rely on when it came to keeping out the outside air, and drafts seeped in from the cracks between the sliding doors, too.

“…Hey, can we call it a day? I’m cold,” I said to the two sitting by the window, shivering.

Once I became aware of it, I just couldn’t take the cold anymore.

Yukinoshita looked up from her book and cocked her head. “Is it? …I suppose it is. What do you suggest we do about it?” She put her hand to her chin in a thinking pose.

“Really? I’m totally fine,” Yuigahama responded.

Of course she wouldn’t be cold.

As soon as Yuigahama had felt the slightest bit cold, she’d gleefully moved her chair to squish right next to Yukinoshita. They shared a blanket hanging over both their laps. Normally, Yukinoshita would complain about the heat or the annoyingness and move away, but she was letting Yuigahama do as she pleased for this day only.

The both of them were looking downright cozy.

Part of it was because they were sitting in a sunny spot, but the biggest factor was that they were sharing body heat.

You guys look so warm…

As I was gazing upon this happy pair, Yuigahama straightened up from her position leaning on Yukinoshita. “H-Hikki, is it cold over there?”

“…Yeah, well, it’s cold, yeah.” When she brought it to my attention, I felt the cold air creeping up on me to make me shiver. I found myself unconsciously rubbing my arms.

“Oh…” Yuigahama flipped up the blanket once, as if checking its size. And then with a moment’s pause, as if feeling hesitant, she let out a little sigh.

She flicked a gaze over at me with questioning, puppy-dog eyes, which made me fidget.

Yuigahama took in a deep breath like she was going to say something, her full chest rising and falling with determination. Her meek voice didn’t match her grand gestures. “I—I see…”

As she was hemming and hawing under her breath, Yukinoshita took over with a gentle smile. “Why not put on a jacket?”

I knew it. I grabbed my coat as she suggested and hung it casually over my shoulders without putting my arms through, like a woman suffering from the office air conditioner blasting in the summer.

Isn’t it time to go home yet…? I wondered. I was having a staring contest with the clock hanging on the wall when there came a knocking on the door. Agh, someone’s here… Looks like I won’t be able to go home early.

“Come in,” Yukinoshita called out, ignoring my dejected slumping. After Yukinoshita gave the go-ahead, the door opened.

“Hello, everyone!” When our visitor bobbed her head in a bow, her pale hair swayed. Large round eyes peeked out from under the gaps in her flowing bangs, and her lips formed a faint smile.

Iroha Isshiki had come to our clubroom yet again. But her greeting was rather more polite than usual, and it gave me the slightest hint that something was off. I’ve kinda got a bad feeling about this…

“Ohhh, Iroha-chan. Yahallooo!” Yuigahama raised a hand and called to her, and Isshiki waved back, the sleeves of her cardigan fluttering.

“Yeah, hellooo!” Returning her greeting, Isshiki strolled into the clubroom, then stopped suddenly. “…Is anyone else cold in here?” She gave Yukinoshita a questioning look.

Yukinoshita smiled, at a loss. “Yes, the heater is broken right now.”

“Ohhh, really?” Isshiki said with disinterest, picking up a chair. She headed over to Yukinoshita, sat herself right down, tugged over the blanket, and joined their impromptu human kotatsu.

“H-hey…” Yukinoshita’s tone was partly confused and partly accusatory as Isshiki suddenly pasted herself against her. Isshiki didn’t seem to care. “Sooo waaarm!  ” she said to herself as she snuggled in closer to the other girl.

“Ah, should we pack it in more?” Yuigahama suggested gently.

“Ohhh, thanks sooo much!” Isshiki sounded like a spoiled child. Now Yukinoshita was being squeezed from both sides.

Stop it! Don’t press Yukinon any more! She’s already flat to begin with! A wind blows over her Kanto Chest Plains! If you’re going to press her, at least push up!

I never would have said that out loud. As I was worrying about whether I should put a stop to the Isshiki/Yuigahama sandwich, the squishing continued.

“…Agh.” Yukinoshita sighed in resignation, then drew her chair back slightly, opening up a space so that it was easier for Isshiki to get in.

Isshiki gleefully exclaimed, “Yaaay!” She moved her chair over in little scooches, somehow getting even closer to Yukinoshita.

Yukinoshita gave Isshiki an annoyed look, but her hands did not say the same, as she reached out to the quilted teapot cover and began pouring tea into a paper cup. “…Would you like some tea?”

“Th-thank you very much.” Isshiki accepted the steaming cup, and holding it in both hands to keep them warm, she began to sip.

They look so warm…

But anyway, Yuigahama isn’t the only one getting special treatment. You’ve also gotten softer on Isshiki lately, too, hmm, Miss Yukinoshita…?

Now that I was thinking about it, though, for Yukinoshita, they would be her first real friend and real junior. It was kind of charming to see her take on a bit of a caretaking role.

As I watched the three warm-looking girls from my chilly spot far away, Isshiki, seeming quite comfy as she drank her hot tea, gave me a little bow. “Oh, thanks for the other day.”

“Hmm, yeah,” I replied noncommittally.

Yukinoshita and Yuigahama looked over at me, wondering what we were talking about.

Urk, it’s kind of hard to explain…

The two of us had just gone to hang out together. That was all it was, but if I went out of my way to tell Yukinoshita and Yuigahama, We just hung out; it was nothing, it would seem like more than just “nothing.”

But remaining silent brought about its own weird feeling of guilt. Well, I guess I’ve already made it a big deal by feeling guilty in the first place, huh…? Ewww, Hachiman is such a creep…

As a result, all I could do was let out a meaningless exhalation, a combination of a sigh and a moan. This must have appeared suspicious, as Yukinoshita’s eyebrows came together, while Yuigahama glanced between Isshiki and me.

Oh dear…

For a while, the clubroom fell into an awkward silence. Despite the cold, I could feel the sweat glands on my head gradually opening up.

Isshiki cleared her throat softly, breaking the tension. “Sooo I’ve kinda been thinking…maybe the student council should make a free magazine,” she announced, making a remark completely unconnected to our earlier comments.

Yukinoshita gave her a questioning look. “Hmm? A free magazine?”

Nice one, Irohasu! I’ve been liberated from their scrutiny…

“A free magazine is, like, one of those, right?” asked Yuigahama.

“Yeah, one of those,” Isshiki replied, completing a brief exchange in which no information was communicated whatsoever.

The other day, when Zaimokuza came to the clubroom, I did recall the discussion touching on free magazines, so it seemed even a few, brief comments like that was enough to get it across.

What was not getting across was her goal.

“But why a free magazine?” Yukinoshita asked with a tilt of her head.

Isshiki drew one hand out from under the blanket and waved a finger as she explained, “We report our accounts at the end of the fiscal year! So the vice president and the rest of student council have put together the paperwork for that, but apparently this year, we actually have some budget left over.”

“Ohhh…,” I said. The previous student council president had been Meguri. Megu rin was so fluffy, I didn’t really get the impression she was very tightfisted when it came to money matters. It kinda made sense to me that she’d leave leftover funds.

But Iroha Isshiki—Iro hasu—the current student council president, was so shrewd that I was sure she’d be having an eye on the money…

As I was mulling over the matter, just as expected, Isshiki smacked her hands in front of her chest and grinned brightly. “Since we’ve got the money, wouldn’t it be best to use it? It seems like a free magazine would be just right.”

“That doesn’t mean you need to make us do extra work…”

That makes no sense. No matter how much money you have left over, creating work for yourself is simply a mystery… This girl is definitely plotting something…, I thought, giving her a suspicious look. Isshiki just gave a cutesy “Aha!” to skirt the issue. Th-that’s even more suspicious…

“But then, Iroha-chan. If you have extra, wouldn’t it be best to save it up? Saving is important, you know?” Yuigahama chided. Sounds like something a mom would say…

But if this were Isshiki’s own money, she’d be right. The difference here was the fact that this was the student council budget.

Yukinoshita, who had been listening to them talk, must also have realized this, and she put her hand to her chin. “I’m sure they can’t.”

“Why not?” Yuigahama asked, leaning her head on Yukinoshita’s shoulder.

“Since if they have budget left over, they might have their budget cut next year. If I were in charge of determining their budget, that’s what I would do,” Yukinoshita explained.

“Yes! That’s exactly it! Sooo wouldn’t it just be better to splurge before the end of year, to keep my budget from getting cut next year?” Isshiki inched in real close, then leaned up against Yukinoshita cutely in an attempt to win her over.

“Too close…” The answer was feeble and filled with confusion.

Sandwiched from both sides, Yukinoshita was cramped like an unfortunate passenger on the train at rush hour. Mm-hmm, such good friends!

But, well, it’s not like I didn’t know where Isshiki was coming from. Though it wasn’t actually Isshiki’s money. What the heck is she saying, “my budget”…? It’s the student council’s. But if it would fit in that budget, then the printing of a free magazine itself wouldn’t really be a problem.

“Seems fine to me. Though I dunno what kind you’re making,” I said with little interest.

Moving away from Yukinoshita, Isshiki turned back to me. “About thaaat, we’ve basically already decided. I was thinking it’d be nice if we could feature, like, places to hang out, or good restaurants, or cute cafés.”

“Ohhh, that sounds nice! And it might be cool to add in clothing stores, or those shops with the little household items, too!” Yuigahama got all excited about Isshiki’s idea, squishing even closer to Yukinoshita.

Yukinoshita was really suffering now. “So you’re imagining something like a mini community bulletin, or a community magazine. It seems like there would be a demand, content-wise…”

But places to hang out, good food, and cute cafés, huh…? I feel like that rang a few bells. What was it, “People are nice”? Places to hang ooout and good fooood and cute cafés are waiting, right? The only part that fits is the food, huh? Guess I’m wrong.

“If we’re talking community magazines, then would it be kinda like Chiba Walker?” Yuigahama asked, turning her body toward Isshiki.

“Yep, yep.” Isshiki nodded, leaning forward enthusiastically. Finally freed from the other girls, Yukinoshita let out a short sigh.

Isshiki continued her explanation. “If it spreads information, we can just go out to have fun and call it research while we guzzle down the bankroll.”

With that cutesy   cute smile of hers on, she was endorsing something close to embezzlement. Guzzle down funds…? This isn’t a developer’s comment about extorting microtransactions in a gacha game…

Yukinoshita and I were both utterly disturbed, but Yuigahama was tilting her head.

“Bankroll…”

I can just see her imagining cake… It’s not a Swiss roll.

Isshiki must have seen from our faces—Yuigahama aside—that we were completely put off, and she puffed up her cheeks in a pout. “Ohhh, you told me before, didn’t you? Like, if it’s getting bankrolled anyway, then use it how you like!” she said.

Yukinoshita shot me a cold look. “I see you’ve been teaching her nothing good…”

“Wait, I didn’t say that,” I argued back.

Isshiki shook her head, giving me a sulking, grumpy look. “You did! You definitely said it when we were planning the Christmas event.”

Did I say that back then…? Something about how it was a joint event with another school, so not to worry about the money and use it all up… I did, yeah. Give this girl an inch, and she’d take a mile. Except she’d completely twisted what I said…

“People could take what you’re trying to do as appropriating student council funds for personal use…,” Yukinoshita said, her manner accusatory.

Isshiki replied, quite indifferently, “Buuut this could be a good opportunity for everyone at school to learn about these things, and we can enjoy ourselves, too, sooo isn’t it win-win?”

My! That Tamanawa boy has been such a bad influence… Your father won’t let you spend time with a boy like that!

“When you put it like that, it doesn’t feel like a bad thing…” Yuigahama said thoughtfully.

It was hard to make a sweeping claim that this was wrong, if having fun was to the benefit of everyone else. It was like commodifying your hobby. Ideal, really.

I got that Isshiki’s proposal was not unreasonable. What remained was the issue of whether this was realistic.

Yukinoshita folded her arms, considering this for a moment. “But then will your application for the funds actually go through?”

“Aw, Yukinoshita! Making sure it goes through is the treasurer’s job!” Isshiki answered, giggling like she found this absolutely hilarious.

She’s a hot mess… Well, if anything happens, she’s the one taking responsibility, so it’s fine, I guess.

If the treasurer was responsible for the expense report going through, then it was the duty of the responsible party to get thrown under the bus! Taking responsibility was their responsibility!

Who knows if Isshiki was aware of this, but it seemed she had more than enough enthusiasm to make up for any deficits. “Sooo then the only issue is the free magazine… How should we make it?” she asked, starting up this new topic like this was the reason she’d come.

Hmm, enthusiasm is the one thing she has in spades…

“I dunno… It’s not like we’ve ever made a free magazine…,” I said.

“Yes…it’s fair to say we know nothing on the matter,” Yukinoshita agreed.

Listening from the side, Yuigahama clapped her hands as if remembering something. “Oh, but before, we did that page in that community magazine.”

“Oh, now that you mention it, we did…” I think that was the thing Miss Hiratsuka had brought to us. She’d been saddled with making one to revitalize local businesses or something, so she’d gotten us to do a spread on weddings aimed at the younger generation. It had been a real struggle.

Thinking back on that, we were discussing it a bit when Isshiki suddenly leaned forward. “That sounds like a great idea! I get the feeling it’ll work!”

“With that, we just needed to fill up one extra page. Creating something from scratch is an entirely different situation. It’s impossible,” Yukinoshita chided.

Isshiki dejectedly sat back down again, shoulders slumping as she gazed up at Yukinoshita. “…Is it really?”

“It is really,” Yukinoshita said coldly.

When Isshiki sniffled, looking resentful like a begging child, even Yukinoshita was speechless, quietly glancing away.

Oh no! At this rate, Yukinoshita is definitely going to give in!

Yukinoshita could be brutally objective when it came to logic and words, but when pressured by emotions and gestures, she gave in with surprising ease. Source: her usual exchanges with Yuigahama.

With Isshiki’s innocent eyes on her, Yukinoshita twisted around uncomfortably.

Yuigahama cut in. “Hey now, couldn’t you just do a little research on how to make one of these things? And ask people who might know some stuff and get them to help… Then we’d be able to do it with you!”

Isshiki grinned. “You’re so nice, Yui!”

But if you really scrutinized her words, she was implying to “come back when you’re actually ready,” disguised in a gentle way.

As expected of Yuigahama. She knew how to suck up to Yukinoshita, which meant Isshiki’s pleas were not effective on her.

“Well, Yuigahama’s right,” I said. “If you really want to do it, then you should take some time to prepare.”

With all three of us criticizing her, Isshiki’s expression became troubled, her eyebrows in an upside-down V. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” I asked.

She looked down before muttering solemnly, “…Because it’s almost time for the closing of accounts.”

I got the feeling we’d just heard some very heavy words.

Oh yeah, it’s right before the end of the fiscal year, huh? My parents seem busier than usual, too. It seems that around this time of year, all the corporate cogs out there had a lot to do.

According to the Internet, which is always right, the reason in February and March you get merch like Blu-ray box sets or OVAs coming out all at the same time is because it’s near the end of the fiscal year.

Well, this isn’t limited purely to anime-related things. It’s common enough to shove out product around this time of year to bump up the annual sales and balance the accounts. Source: my mom and dad. They were working frantically that day, like every day…

“I didn’t really understand all the details myself, buuut it looks like if we’re gonna shove it into this fiscal year, we have to do it before the expense report at the beginning of March, and we’re already past the beginning of February, so right now is our only opportunity!” Isshiki said in a rush, waving her hands as she explained quite earnestly. Her gestures were very cute, but hearing her say terms like fiscal and expense report and shove was not…

Well, I understood there wasn’t much time. They’d assemble all their receipts and invoices within the month, then process them at the beginning of the following month.

Which means we have to finish the job this month, huh…?

Though we weren’t far into February, it was a short month. And even if it was just a free magazine, starting up a whole magazine from scratch was a monumentally difficult task.

“Totally impossible. Give it up,” I said. Yukinoshita quietly nodded, and Yuigahama got this awkward strained smile.

You can lean forward and look up at me with those wibbly eyes, but it’s no use. What’s impossible is impossible. I slowly shook my head.

Isshiki quietly stood. “Hey…there’s something I have to talk about…,” she said in a lowered voice before softly walking over and stopping in front of my seat. She kept her face turned away as if she felt hesitant.

“Talk about what…?” I asked, but Isshiki just wouldn’t say it. Yukinoshita and Yuigahama were both giving her questioning looks.

Isshiki ignored our confusion, and then for some reason, she undid one button of her blazer, then another. Wait. What the heck is she doing?

I wasn’t the only one shocked—Yukinoshita’s and Yuigahama’s mouths were hanging open, too. Hey, wait, seriously, what is she doing?! Oh man, hey, um, you’re not gonna strip, right?! Do you know how much trouble that would cause for me?

As Isshiki twisted around to pull off her blazer, she gave a little grunt of effort. Then she reached under her pink cardigan with one hand and began rummaging around in the chest of her blouse.

“Um…” She sounded unsure as she fished around in there. With each movement, her loosely open collar revealed flashes of her collarbone. Feeling like I shouldn’t be looking at point-blank range, I averted my eyes, but that just made the sound of rustling clothes and her breathing seem more suggestive.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but do it far away from me. Go.” With my face turned down, I shooed her away with my hand, leaning away as much as I could.

Isshiki let out a particularly big sigh. “Ah, here it is,” she announced, and with another rustle, she pulled out some paper. Her other hand gently took mine, and then she pressed the paper into my palms.

The sudden touch of her hand, the feel of her thin, supple fingers, and her mysteriously soft skin made me freeze up in surprise, and she jerked her hand away. Left in my grip were the warm pieces of paper.

When I realized that warmth was from her body heat, it just about made my hand ooze with sweat. I timidly opened my clenched fist.

There were a few of those pieces of paper. Skimming over them, I saw rows of familiar characters. Printed at the top was Receipt, while underneath was written the name of a bowling alley and a café. There was even the food ticket for a ramen shop, too.

No way, these receipts…

With a gasp, I figured it out, and when I lifted my head, my eyes locked with Isshiki’s. She was grinning.

You looked? You saw them, right? Then you get it now, right? her smile seemed to say, and with that before me, any explanation in words was unnecessary.

Isshiki put her hand out, prompting me to return the receipts. When I complied and handed them back, she took them carefully in both hands, then tucked them away again in the chest pocket of her blouse.

“Sooo about what I wanted to talk about…” She repeated what she’d said before in a sweet, coaxing voice. It seemed she meant to imply that I was complicit here.

But I didn’t think I had anything to do with this. I’d paid for myself, and it’s not like I’d received any monetary benefit.

So then why do I feel so guilty…? It was fun, so then in the broadest sense, I benefited from her bankroll? No, but…well…

Maybe it was just because Isshiki had brought out those receipts with such confidence, but I became more and more worried that maybe I had done something bad. I could kind of understand why a victim might be pressured to confess to a false accusation…

I cleared my throat, then turned back to Isshiki. Time for a plea bargain!

“…L-let’s just hear more about it, for now.”

“Has she blackmailed you?!” Yuigahama cried out in shock.

“Agh…” Yukinoshita sighed in exasperation at the same time.

Some time passed since Isshiki had headed back to the student council room to grab some papers so that she could talk to us about the details. While we awaited her return, Yukinoshita poured us more tea.

As the steam rose from our cups, the smell of black tea wafted through the room. The heater still wasn’t working, but the tea and the jacket over my shoulders kept the cold from bothering me too much.

“Sorry for the waaait!” The door was flung open with a rattle, and Isshiki bounded into the room.

She dumped the file folders in her arms, then began spreading out on the desk what seemed to be the relevant materials. Her eyes sparkled with excitement and glee like a child looking at a flyer for a toy store right before Christmas.

Seeing her enthusiasm did make me want to make this free magazine happen somehow, but this wasn’t something that would just work out with enough enthusiasm, guts, and idealism.

First of all, we needed an accurate grasp of the situation. The more you understand the nature of the work, the more cornered you feel about your present situation.

If there’s no wiggle room in cost or schedule, then it can’t be actualized in the first place, and if you are fully aware of that and forced into an unrealistic plan anyway, that kills motivation. Conversely, when there’s leeway in the budget and schedule, you think it’ll be a cinch and end up with a train wreck from some careless mistake. Awww man. In all the scenarios I’m envisioning, everything falls to shit as soon as the work is assigned…

That is precisely why the correct route is to understand your capacity for work. In fact, it would be better to not accept responsibilities in the first place. Or, in the case where refusal isn’t an option, you should negotiate to reduce as much of your workload as possible. Having been in the exploitative environment of the Service Club for the past year, I had finally become enlightened to this.

I called out to Isshiki while waiting for her to finish laying out all the papers. “Let me make this clear: We still haven’t decided we’re going to go through with this. We’ll hear what specifically you plan to do, and based on that, we’ll consider if we can do it or not.”

“Right. I’m fine with that!” she answered cheerfully, beaming at me.

Ack…when you look at me with those hopeful eyes, it makes it really hard to say no…

While I was choked up, Yukinoshita took over, beginning the discussion so we could move things along. “All right, could you tell us about your printing plans?”

“Right. Ummm, wellll, I contacted the printing company that we placed an order with for the Christmas event and asked them some stuff.” Isshiki grabbed a few papers from her collection. It seemed she had a pamphlet, plus a written quote.

Holy crap… She’s already spoken to the printing firm? For someone who can’t make plans, she’s certainly proactive…

“They recommended this…” Isshiki pointed to one spot on the pamphlet.

Beside her, Yukinoshita examined it. “Eight pages full color… That’s quite a bold move…” She pressed her temple as if she was starting to get a headache.

Isshiki had on a shy smile. “Ohhh, well, that was what we decided on! The conversation kinda just went in that direction!”

“What kind of conversation just ‘goes in that direction’…?” I asked in exasperation.

Isshiki puffed up her cheeks. “I meeean, when an adult tells you something, you wind up going with it, right?”

“I get that. I understand where you’re coming from…” Yuigahama nodded along in emphatic agreement.

Kids these days… I hope no adults or older kids try to take advantage of them.

“For the number of copies…well, we can just go off the budget… We can secure space within the school, if need be, and they can be recycled… It seems the risk of remaining inventory would not be a concern.” Meanwhile, Yukinoshita wasn’t listening to either of them, going over the materials at her own pace and muttering to herself.

Hmm, Discommunication Girl… I’m worried about you for other reasons!

After poring over the pamphlet, Yukinoshita looked up to push the papers over to me. I took them and flipped through them as well. They described the steps involved in a simple printing process.

“They’ll handle the design and input the information for production… So all we have to do is draft the content and rough design,” Yukinoshita explained.

“Hmm. Seems like it won’t be any different from the community bulletin,” I observed.

Basically, we’d be fine if we focused on getting the content done. However, we still had to prearrange the photos and article text. Prearrange is term that conveys a particularly excessive level of pretension.

“Though it’s quite a few more pages than what we did before…,” Yukinoshita replied, grim resolve in her voice.

Yuigahama seemed peppier than usual. “But, like, we’ve got the student council this time around, so if we all share the work, we can figure it out, right?”

“Oh, you’re mostly right…,” I began, when I caught sight of Isshiki quietly turning away with a sour look on her face.

“…”

“…Isshiki? Why are you so quiet?” Yukinoshita smiled brightly at her, voice tender and gaze warm. But strangely, I sensed no warmth there, and the sight made a shiver run down my spine.

Okay, that really skeeves me out…

It seemed Isshiki felt the same fear—no, she must have been even more rattled, as she flailed in a panic. “Ah! Oh, n-no! Um…everyone’s a little busy right now with the end-of-year stuff, but once that’s done, I think there should be no problem…”

“…In other words, you’re saying we can’t expect help this time.” Yukinoshita let out a weak sigh.

Isshiki’s shoulders slumped apologetically. “No…”

“C-come on, guys, there’s nothing we can do about that. If you don’t have enough help, maybe you could ask some friends to give you a hand… Let’s just…do whatever we gotta do!” Yuigahama said encouragingly as she made a fist.

But when she says whatever we gotta, I think she more means just “let’s do whatever”…

Anyway, we could see the labor cost and quantity. We’d gotten a grasp on the minimum number of personnel available. All that was left was to learn the schedule. Figure out that part, and we could decide if it was possible or not.

Isshiki had just told us the plan in rough and that it was within the month, but we had to pound out a more detailed schedule.

“So when do you have to get it done, exactly?” I asked her.

“Soon, real soon.” Isshiki pulled out the schedule sheet and tapped it. “Right now, the budget will be perfect if we get the discount for the early plan. For that to happen, we have to hand over this…input info? Whatever. We need to give that to the printing company by mid-February.”

Oh-ho, an early-bird discount. They have those? If she’s making it with the remaining funds, then it should be no problem. And this looks like it’ll make it just perfectly by the accounting deadline, too—that Irohasu knows how to manage her money! I thought, doing my best to escape reality, but even so, I couldn’t ignore one phrase that had stuck with me.

When I was tilting my head thinking, Hmm? By mid-February? Isshiki added in a quiet mutter, “…So in, like…two more weeks.”

“What? That’s impossible. Two weeks is totally impossible,” I answered instantly, flailing my hands in refusal.

Opposite me, Yukinoshita nodded slowly. “That’s not correct. If we assume there will be an editorial check to confirm all content to be published and apply for revisions, then we should assume we have one week.”

“Even less time?!” Yuigahama turned to Yukinoshita in shock.

“We’re just talking about the best-case scenario if everything goes well… We’re already behind schedule from the get-go… We should consider unforeseen situations and try to accelerate the process.” Yukinoshita went on with her logical and dispassionate explanation until that point, but it seemed that once she’d said it herself, even she understood it was unrealistic.

“…Of course, this is only if we were to accept this request,” she added, then glanced over as if to check with me. It seemed she meant to cede the final judgment. It was apparent this would be a bone-crunching schedule, but I couldn’t say it was absolutely impossible.

A week, huh…? Wait. Assuming we pause operations on Saturday and Sunday, and today’s date… I tried to count out the exact number of days, but I just couldn’t do the calculations right. Huhhh? Has Little Hachiman always been this bad at math?

Well, the accurate numbers were in my head, but my heart would not accept them.

“Hey, just tell me this—,” I said. “How many more days left do we have until the deadline…?”

“Um…” Yuigahama looked up at the ceiling with a vacant expression, sticking up one, two fingers as she began to count. Then her expression twisted up— Erk!

Yukinoshita looked at us with eyes filled with grief. “…I think you will feel more hopeful if you don’t count.”

“If you’re saying that, then hope’s already long gone…,” I moaned.

When I was glance-glance-glancing over at Isshiki, suggesting this would be a no-go, even her expression was grim.

“…So…we can’t after all?” she muttered brokenly, her voice fragile as if restraining sobs. Her eyes welled up, her breath hot. Her fists clenched around her skirt trembled slightly. Her thin shoulders twitched, and then slowly, timidly, her eyes gazed into mine. Each and every one of those gestures was filled with fervent emotion, making me want to do something for her.

But none of that! I’m already used to that sort of tearful persuasion from my sister Komachi! If you grew up with her, you’d gain immunity to it whether you liked it or not! And I’m used to accepting her pleas without hesitation.

“So we just have to make it work over the next few days, huh…?” I automatically replied in the same way as I normally did with Komachi. This big brother nature of mine was the worst!

“Thanks sooo much!” Isshiki beamed at me.

Meanwhile, though, the girl beside her gave me an ice-cold look, then blew out a deep sigh. “…You’re always so soft.”

“C-come on, now… That’s one of Hikki’s strong suits…and his shortcomings,” Yuigahama said. Just when I was thinking she’d intervened for my sake, the uncomfortable smile on her face turned into a frigid look.

Uh, I’m really sorry…for causing you trouble… I almost apologized to both of them reflexively. But Isshiki had brought this on us in the first place. It’s not my fault. It’s hers! I looked over to Isshiki to see her heaving a sigh of relief. Not that there was much on her chest to heave.

“Ohhh, you guys are such a big help! I’ve been counting on it, you know.”

The admirable attitude evaporated, and she did a total 180, beaming like she was smugly pleased with herself. Well, I kind of saw this coming anyway. Whatever.

But if she’s going to put on an act, I wish she’d keep up her coy antics right to the end! Good grief, there are no hopes or dreams.

It was going to be difficult to make the deadline, but we somehow had managed to set out a schedule. Our progress would affect costs, but the budget was fine at the current stage.

However, we had not decided the most important part: what we were doing.

“Well then, let’s get this planning meeting staaarted!” Isshiki cried, drawing out her words, and Yuigahama was the only one to offer light applause. Though Isshiki took the lead at the start, a heartbeat later, she was looking over at Yukinoshita as if to say, What should we do?

With Isshiki’s gaze on her, Yukinoshita put her hand to her chin thoughtfully. “I would suppose we should begin by considering the concept.”

“Can’t we just go with what Iroha-chan proposed?” asked Yuigahama. “Like, featuring local spots and good restaurants.”

“Oh, yes! I think that’s a good idea! The best plan would be something where we can use up the funds on ‘research’!”

Although it seemed that Isshiki completely agreed with Yuigahama’s opinion, I got the impression she had ulterior motives…

Yukinoshita gave a little shake of her head. “If we had spare time, that would be enough, but given the situation, it will be hard to fill eight pages. We have to think of other articles, too.”

“Is there anything else you want to do?” Yuigahama asked Isshiki.

Isshiki folded her arms, flopping her head from side to side. After a full few minutes of moaning, she muttered, “…Not really.”

Yukinoshita’s shoulders slumped, while Yuigahama pulled a strained smile. What else did you expect them to do?

Beginning with a concept, as Yukinoshita suggested, was very much the standard mode of attack. A concept should have led us to conclude that we needed to publish a free magazine. These were the logical steps to make something. However, for Isshiki, the publication was the goal, and the concept was an afterthought.

Right now, we needed to figure out what the readers would gain from the final output, not about what we wanted to communicate as the creators.

“If we don’t know where to start, wouldn’t it be faster to calculate backward from the goal?” I suggested.

“Excuse me?” I must not have articulated this well, as Isshiki tilted her head at an angle, looking at me with narrowed eyes.

This girl is so aggravating… I’m trying to help you out here, you know…

Even if I wasn’t getting across to Isshiki, it seemed Yukinoshita had picked up on my intentions. “By goal, you mean the readers?”

“Yeah. I mean we should target our audience and make something they want to read.”

“The readers… We’re just handing these out at school, right?” Yuigahama asked, and Isshiki nodded.

Well, I didn’t know how it would work out down the road, but for now, it should be reasonable to have a prerelease version or launch version or whatever be disseminated within the school.

Our target audience was starting to vaguely come together, so I narrowed it down further. “And it’s gonna be released in March, right? The third-years will be graduating. So our main targets will be current first- and second-years.”

“Depending on how often we put out issues, the new students might also be included in our target audience,” added Yukinoshita.

“Ohhh, I seem to remember the incoming class is usually eager for this type of thing!” said Yuigahama.

“That’s true—new students would pick it up out of curiosity,” Isshiki agreed.

All three of their opinions were converging in the same direction. Meaning our main readership had been decided.

Having narrowed down our audience, we’d just have to plan with that in mind while adjusting our goals to meet these expectations.

Yukinoshita paused her note-taking, looking over what she’d written. “If our target is going to be incoming students, the issue can revolve around introducing our school with one segment to feature local spots… It just might work.”

“It’s admittedly generic, but it’s a safe choice for a first issue,” I said. “Slap on the appropriate title to tie it all together, and it should look pretty legit. Something like A Guidebook for Your New Life.”

“Ohhh, sounds legit…” Yuigahama was impressed.

Isshiki seemed satisfied, too, clapping her hands in agreement. “I like that! So then what do we do to introduce the school?” She looked between me and Yukinoshita with expectation.

But Yukinoshita just shot her a dull look, implying that she needed to think for herself.

Ohhh, brutal…

Isshiki faltered under Yukinoshita’s cold gaze, and she gave little glances over at the other girl. “It could…promote the clubs or something, I guess? …I guess?” Isshiki seemed to shrink in size, squeezing her hands against her chest.

On the other hand, Yukinoshita listened without a word, nonverbally asking if she really thought that was adequate.

And then there was Yuigahama, watching the exchange with an anxious expression.

A momentary silence dominated the clubroom. The tension rendered Isshiki speechless and a little choked up from tears.

Stop iiit! I can’t watch this! Give her the right answer—stat!

I don’t know if my wishes got through, but a smile finally broke on Yukinoshita’s face. “…Well, I suppose that’s fine.” Sweeping her hair off her shoulders, she nodded.

Beside her, Isshiki let out a sigh of relief. “Then it’s settled. Okeydoke, then we’re introducing clubs. Clubs, hmm? Clubs…”

Nodding like all was fine and dandy, Yuigahama started scribbling the names of a bunch of clubs.

Yukinoshita popped over to take a peek at her notes. “Even just this should be enough. I think we can fill two pages.”

“I wish it could take up another page,” I said.

Eight pages didn’t seem like much, except it was. The reader took no notice of it, but trying to fill all of them took time. When we worked on one page in the community magazine, we’d struggled. A lot.

“Yes…,” Yukinoshita agreed. “It may be a good idea to select a club for a feature article to keep with the general theme.”

“The tennis club!” I called out.

“The soccer club!” Isshiki responded at just about the same instant. We glared at each other.

“It’s got to be the tennis club! Everyone wants to join.” Look, everyone reads Prince of Tennis, and I get this feeling the sport is more popular lately.

But Isshiki wasn’t backing down from her side, either. “It’s clearly got to be the soccer club. That’s what everyone wants to see: Hayama,” she preached with sincerity.

O-okay… Name dropping Hayama weakened my argument… It was true that his photo would earn the free magazine a good reception. I knew Minami Sagami would gleefully steal multiple copies. And then Miura would wait for when nobody was around and sneakily take just one. Oh, but if Totsuka’s photo were in it, I’m sure everyone would— Wait no, I take that back. I want to keep that just for me!

As I was moaning and battling this dilemma in my heart, Yuigahama looked a bit uncomfortable with the idea. “Hmm. If just one club got preferential treatment, people might complain…”

“Ahhh, yeah, some people might not be happy about that,” I agreed. Just the sort of thoughtfulness I’d expect from you, Yuigahama. Nice thinkingahama.

Even if we didn’t intent to, we didn’t know how others would take it. If we wanted to avoid unnecessary quarrels, it would be easier to take the safe route to use the same template for everyone.

It seemed Isshiki had a different opinion. She knit her eyebrows and bent her mouth in an upside-down V, making her displeasure clear. “Whaaat? Can’t you just ignore the haters?”

Ohhh, she’s hard-hearted… But Isshiki was right. Someone was bound to complain, no matter what we did.

With a short sigh, Yukinoshita turned back to Isshiki. “We can’t do that. This is an official publication by the student council. It would be best to have a measure of consideration… Since the one who will field these complaints is you.” Though her words were cold, the way she said them expressed gentle concern for Isshiki.

“…I mean, that’s true.”

It seemed Isshiki picked up that Yukinoshita was saying this out of consideration for her. Isshiki reluctantly nodded. Though it wasn’t so easy to tell, Yukinoshita was doing her best to be supportive of her juniors.

The other good upperclassman, Yuigahama, chirped, “Oh, so, like, Hayato is the chairman of the captains’ association. What if the feature was on the club captains?”

Isshiki whipped up her face, and she flashed a big smile. “That’s a great idea! I’ll interview him!”

“All right, then let’s fill a page with that interview article,” suggested Yukinoshita.

Now that we had a plan, we just had to take that down to the specifics.

On the list of clubs, Yukinoshita wrote down items like name, then photo and comments and other things we wanted to request of them, and put it all together.

Attentively watching her take notes, Isshiki suddenly commented, “What about the Service Club?”

Yukinoshita and Yuigahama raised their heads and exchanged a look. Whether they were checking with each other or just confused, there was a moment of silence.

I ended it. “We don’t have to put in this club.”

“Why not?” Isshiki asked with a tilt of her head.

“Why not? I mean…” Her gaze was so direct, I found myself not knowing how to respond. To overcompensate for going quiet, I forced myself to say something I didn’t really mean.

“It’s kind of embarrassing to write about ourselves…”

Yuigahama nodded. “Urk, that’s true…”

“I mean, nobody knows about this club anyway, so no one’s exactly looking to read about it,” I continued.

Yukinoshita put her hand to her chin. “Hmm, it’s not as if we’re actively recruiting, either…”

“Right? And besides, if we can reduce our workload by even one thing, we can focus on editing.”

Even as I said that, I knew my real reason was different.

It was simply that I didn’t know what to write. How could I explain this club or define it? I still didn’t know the answer.

I was ready to make some more excuses, but Isshiki’s sigh cut me off. “…Well, if that’s your rationale, then I guess that’s that.”

It seemed I’d won her over. Isshiki cracked open her notebook and flipped through it, before turning back to Yukinoshita and Yuigahama. “Is this basically okay, content-wise?”

“Yes. And then about the locations to be featured…,” Yukinoshita started.

Isshiki pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Ohhh, I’ve already looked into that! These are my photos of the places!”

“Ohhh, I wanna see!” Yuigahama peered over. Naturally, Yukinoshita, sandwiched between them, also looked at Isshiki’s phone, though she seemed cramped.

Isshiki’s finger swiped across the screen. With each swipe, I heard girlish remarks like “Cute!” or “Nice” or “Could you show me that photo just one more time? Yes, the one with the cat merch.”

Sitting in my chair away from them, I listened to the excited chatter as I zoned out on my own phone.

And then suddenly, their conversation stopped.

Curious, I glanced over at them, and Isshiki had this Uh-oh look on her face. Yuigahama and Yukinoshita were shooting daggers in my direction.

“Uh, what…?” I asked.

“Ah, um, well, like, I—I was just thinking I’d like to go, too…” Yuigahama laughed, while Yukinoshita beamed at me.

“…You look like you’re enjoying yourself in that photo.”

Are you guys cold in here? Brr! It’s freezing! I hope they fix the heater soon…

There was the click of a cup being set down on the saucer.

“Well then, it seems we already have source material for those locations,” said Yukinoshita.

“Yep!” Isshiki answered as she put away her phone. It seemed she intended to use the photos from our expedition for the free magazine. Or so Isshiki explained, and though I don’t know how Yukinoshita and Yuigahama took that, I was freed from their icy stares.

“So then Iroha-chan will be in charge of this,” Yuigahama said, making a circle on the notepad.

We’d decided on the content. Now for the division of labor. It wasn’t just assigning pages; we also needed to pick roles.

Yukinoshita summed up what was written on the notepad. “I’ll handle page composition, schedule management, and design. Yuigahama, you handle interviewing the clubs and editorial stuff.”

“Roger!” Yuigahama answered with energy.

Yukinoshita nodded back at her, then glanced over at me. “And Hikigaya…”

“I’ll be the cameraman.”

Taking photos of the clubs meant I could legally take pictures of Totsuka. I was totally raring to go, like, Leave the camera work to me, snap-snap-snap, but Yukinoshita’s response was a merciless one.

“Writing, interviews, photography, planning, production, proofreading, client relations, accounting, and miscellaneous tasks.”

That’s a lot of responsibility…and things that seem irrelevant! I made sure she knew I was disgruntled.

Yukinoshita shot me a nasty look. “Problem?”

Not a specific one. I have a problem with everything, I was thinking, when Yuigahama tap-tapped on Yukinoshita’s shoulder.

“H-hey now, Yukinon. Look, he’s already handled the data collection on those locations…,” she mediated.

Yukinoshita didn’t seem quite happy, but she let out a little sigh and flipped her hair. “…Fine. Well then, just writing and miscellaneous tasks is enough.”

“…Roger.”

As I nodded, I also went Capisce! with a sideways   peace sign to acknowledge—in my head. Well, it would be fastest for me to handle the wordsmithery. It’d take us longer to proofread if Yuigahama or Isshiki wrote it, and I feel like Yukinoshita would be too formal in her writing.

With each of our roles decided, we were ready to get started. Isshiki timidly raised her hand. “Ummm, what should I do?”

“You’re editor-in-chief, of course,” Yukinoshita answered instantly.

“Ohhh…that sounds real cool.” Yuigahama gave a smattering of applause as to celebrate.

Well, Isshiki had been the one to come up with this, so it was reasonable for her to have the job with the most responsibility. However, it seemed the one in question didn’t know about that last part, and she was tilting her head to the side. “What should the editor-in-chief do?”

Yukinoshita sighed in resignation. “Yes… First, get permission to publish information and photos of these businesses.”

“Right! I’ll go check!” Isshiki exclaimed. Morale was high, it seemed.

Yukinoshita added, “And secure a channel for distribution. Have you already decided where they will be handed out?”

“In front of the student council room, and, like, in front of the teachers’ room and places with high foot traffic?”

“Then go get permission to use those.”

“Right! I’m going to tell Miss Hiratsuka.”

“And if I could ask you to make copies of this on your way back?”

Isshiki accepted the notepad from Yukinoshita and clasped it tight to her chest, then saluted us, palm out. “Right! Understood! …Wait, are you just sending me on odd jobs?” Her shoulders slumped.

Ahhh, busted.

“General supervision and permissions, negotiation with outside parties, the final check, and appropriate support are all your job,” Yukinoshita explained.

Isshiki sounded like she was impressed, then stood up. “Theeen I’ll go tell Miss Hiratsuka!”

“Thank you.”

As Isshiki was passing by me in order to leave the clubroom, she grabbed me by the sleeve. “Let’s go.”

“Uh, go by yourself…”

“If you’re with me, you can be like a lightning rod—whoops, I mean lead to lightning-fast ideas, right?! And you’re reliable!”

You didn’t have to correct yourself… But as she said, I do have a reputation for being a lightning rod. If my presence would make the conversation go smoothly, then I would just pop over there and get it done with.

“Guess I’ll go, then.” Slipping out of her grasp on my sleeve, I left my chair.

Then there was some scraping of chairs as Yuigahama stood. “Oh, then I’ll go, too!”

“Agh… If we’re to explain the materials, it would be best for me to go, wouldn’t it?” Yukinoshita sighed, then quietly got up from her own chair.

“Okay! Let’s all go together!” Yuigahama grabbed hold of both Yukinoshita’s and Isshiki’s arms, then briskly headed for the door.

Hmm, body heat seems like a good defense for the cold hallway…

Well, if all three of them were coming, I could probably just stand there and do nothing. Following the girls, I left the clubroom behind.

Upon entering the teachers’ room, I headed straight for Miss Hiratsuka’s desk.

Among the rows of desks, I discovered her sitting at one that was particularly messy. She was in front of her computer, clattering away on the keyboard as she occasionally drew soba out from the take-out bowl at her side.

Eating again, huh…? “Miss Hiratsuka.”

“Hmm? Ohhh, it’s you, Hikigaya. Why’s everyone here?”

“We wanted to ask about something…”

“Hmm? Mmm.” Miss Hiratsuka glanced over at the bowl, then paused as if considering a bit.

“We won’t mind if you keep eating,” Yukinoshita told her.

“Oh? Sorry.” Miss Hiratsuka gave an apologetic laugh, then picked up the bowl. Spinning her chair around to turn her profile to us, she took her chopsticks in hand. After slurping up some soba, she prompted us to continue. “So then what were you asking about?”

“We were thinking about making a free magazine,” said Isshiki.

Surprised, Miss Hiratsuka dubiously parroted, “A free magazine?”

Isshiki began to explain the plan to publish it. With Yukinoshita supplementing where necessary, we showed the teacher the summary, the pamphlet, and the estimate.

“We’ve already gotten a quote,” Yukinoshita explained, “and it’s possible to get this within the budget. As for the content, we’ve put a general plan together. It’s still rough, though.”

“Hmm.” While occasionally slurping on her soba, Miss Hiratsuka examined the materials with interest. After flipping through the papers, she seemed to get the gist and raised her head again. “Well, you’re totally free to do it… But couldn’t you do it on straw paper, using a mimeograph?”

Yuigahama tilted her head. “Straw paper?”

“What? Mimeograph?” Isshiki gave Miss Hiratsuka an unconvinced look—actually, it was just downright rude.

This girl has a serious attitude problem…

In normal circumstances, this was Miss Hiratsuka’s cue to offer educational guidance, but it seemed she didn’t have the energy. “Oh, you’ve never heard of those…,” she muttered weakly, breaking into this worn, bitter, somehow self-deprecating smile.

“I’ve heard of them, but I’ve never seen them in real life…,” Yukinoshita admitted apologetically, as if finishing her off.

“Of course…,” Miss Hiratsuka answered, voice trembling slightly.

It was inevitable, seeing how advancements in machinery and paper improved by the day. And hey, a mimeograph? Even at her age, I doubted she’s seen the real thing… Uh, though I obviously didn’t know her age.

And then said thirtyish woman of unknown age slumped over, cradling her bowl. “Well, just give it a shot,” she muttered and offered nothing more as she sadly began to slurp her now soggy soba…

Now that we had received permission from Miss Hiratsuka, finally, we began the actual work.

I borrowed another laptop so that we could all deal with the tasks allotted to us, and I began typing up what we needed.

That was when Yukinoshita ambled over to me. “Hikigaya, do you have a moment?”

“Uh-huh,” I replied, and she sat down diagonally across from me, spreading out the transmittal form. The transmittal form is, simply put, a summary listing the composition of each page and the assigned editor.

Yukinoshita tapped one corner of the draft. “The problem is what to do with the cover page.”

“Wouldn’t it be easiest just to avoid the problem with a simple design or photo?”

“Or a picture with a caption and something like a logo or a border around it?”

“Yeah, I figure it just has to look like we got inspo from Time or Forbes.”

“Yes, I think making an obvious homage might make it more aesthetic.”

“And that’ll shave off some time.”

As we were talking, I felt eyes on us from a distance. Isshiki was looking at us with an expression of pure horror. “I have no idea what you two are talking about…”

“Yeah? Me neither!” Yuigahama admitted, leaning over her desk.

She seemed almost glad to have company…? The two buddies were right in the middle of making a form to request comments from the clubs. We had our own discussion to move along.

Yukinoshita was making notes in the layout draft when her hand paused, and she brought her pen to smoosh into her cheek. “So that’s our design direction. The question is the subject matter.”

“We can just go with a photo of Isshiki. She’s the president, after all.” I jabbed my thumb in the direction of the girl in question.

Isshiki waved her hands wildly. “Huh? You mean, like, gravure? Swimsuits are off the table for me.”

“Who cares… And hey, we never asked you to do that.” Just what else is off the table for her…?

I could see she was playing up her coy act to seem purer. When you get to my level, you stop believing in terms like the girl next door, or amateur, or magic mirror.

“…Oh, really?” Isshiki must have been offended, as her voice was weirdly cold, and there was a sharpness to the flash in her narrowed eyes. She pulled her lips in a tight downward V, putting her hand to her chest as she considered awhile. Eventually, she got this nasty smirk like she’d had an idea, then did an about-face. “Okaaay then, who are you asking to do it? Ohhh, Yui?”

“H-hey! I—I can’t do that! No way! Absolutely no way!” With Isshiki yanking her, Yuigahama pitched forward, and her skin peeked out from her loose collar, emphasizing her chest. I felt myself magnetically drawn to it, but with force of will, I tore my eyes away.

I won’t give in! I can’t give in to temptation!

I somehow managed to lift my gaze, but then our eyes met. Yuigahama’s cheeks were bright red, and she hugged her shoulders as if hiding her body. “Ah, I mean…th-that stuff is too embarrassing… There’s no way… People seeing me like that would be too much…” She paused between words, turning her face away. She was red to the neck. Once she was done talking, she flicked me this little questioning glance, and her eyes seemed hot, too.

Frankly, I feel like a certain sector would very much enjoy seeing her on the cover, but I don’t think I’d find that situation pleasant. I mean, look, she doesn’t want to do it, all right? “Uh, I wouldn’t… Like, I’d never do…something like that.”

“R-really? …Oh, good.” Yuigahama seemed relieved, her shoulders relaxing. I let go of some tension as well, letting out a deep sigh.

Once Yuigahama had calmed down, I hit on the reason the conversation had gone in this direction. “And wait, gravure doesn’t mean swimsuit photography. I think, like, printing a page of photos? Or something like that is called gravure.”

Right? Miss Yukipedia? I turned to Yukinoshita. She’d been fiddling with her ribbon tie this whole time, but when my eyes met with hers, she jerked her gaze away. Then she retied her ribbon. “…”

I heard a faint sigh. I wish she would stop going silent at moments like these…

“Anyway, a normal uniform photo is fine. Okay, next. Yukinoshita, what do we do about the back cover?” I changed the topic, and Yukinoshita narrowed her eyes at me for just a second. It seemed that despite her lack of reply, she did basically intend to listen.

I just went on ahead. “Will we put ads in? Like for mysterious prayer beads, or speed-reading techniques, or exercise machines, or health goods,” I said, irresponsibly imagining pictures of Zaimokuza in a bathtub full of cash.

Finally, Yukinoshita spoke up. “It’s not realistic to start searching for places that would advertise with us this late. If we’re going to continue publishing this in the future, then it would be fine to look into it, but it’s not feasible this time, at least. Since we don’t have material, we should fill the space with written content,” she said dispassionately, eyes still on the layout.

I considered a bit. “Something like a column, or an editor’s note? …Well, I’ll handle that stuff.”

“Yes, please do,” Yukinoshita replied briefly, and then as usual, she began carrying out her task without looking at me. The scratching of her ballpoint pen was particularly loud.

Dear me, is she still bothered by that earlier conversation…? It’s not like there’s anything to worry about…

It’s okay! There’s still hope! Genetically speaking, of course!

I was tasked with writing and taking photos, which was the job I’d asked for. That meant I needed to interview the clubs. There wasn’t much time, so we were splitting into two groups for the job: me and Isshiki, then Yuigahama and Yukinoshita. If you took an average of our communication and academic skills, then, well, it was a fair way to divide us up. We went for the boys’ clubs, while Yukinoshita and Yuigahama would be mainly interviewing the girls’ clubs.

Our first subject for interview was, of course…the tennis club!

Yuigahama had handled making the appointment beforehand, so Isshiki and I just went down to the tennis court, where the cold winds whistled by.

“Your receive is slow! You can try a little harder!” The cute voice that rang across the court was that of the tennis club captain, Totsuka. Racket over one shoulder and the other hand on his waist, he was pushing the younger members. It seemed Mr. Captain was now good and used to the job.

When we came up to the side of the court, Totsuka noticed us and waved a hand as he came trotting over. “Hachiman! And Isshiki! Hello.”

“Sorry for bothering you.” Matching Isshiki as she gave an extra-polite bow, I also gave a wave in greeting.

“Oh, no, it’s totally fine! Um, you were going to take pictures? Go ahead anytime.” Totsuka gave a little shake of his head, then spread his arms and spun around, gesturing to the tennis court. Then he turned his head to me and smiled.

Yep, I’d say I’m all ready!

“Then let’s get right to it…,” I said.

Totsuka with his arms spread was cute, so that was the first shot. I raised the camera and snapped the shutter. Then Totsuka seemed confused, so one more. Then he tilted his head cutely, so I took another. And then as I was raising the camera again to get a photo of Totsuka’s curious expression, he started to talk to me. “Umm…weren’t you taking pictures of practice?”

“That too. But first, this,” I declared—quite boldly, openly, and emphatically, for me.

Totsuka seemed overwhelmed by the force of my remark, as he faltered slightly. “O-oh…I’m a little embarrassed… Hmm…”

Shy about having his picture taken, he put his hands to his face to hide his blushing, looking indecisive, but then he glanced over to the tennis court. “But if new students see this, they might join the club…”

“Yeah, the new students might read this to get information,” I said. Yuigahama had told him about the aim of this free magazine when she had made the appointment. This would also be a good opportunity for the clubs to get exposure.

Totsuka lifted his head resolutely. “I-I’ll do my best…” Then he clenched a little fist in front of his chest to get himself fired up.

“O-okay then…let’s do our best.” It was good that I’d managed to win over Totsuka, but despite my own words, I was feeling like I’d used smooth talk to lure him into a photo shoot. Why do I feel so guilty…? No, wait. This feeling isn’t guilt… It’s the feeling of corruption! This is actually getting me more motivated, in a way!

“Okay, let me keep snapping these photos.”

“Yeah!” he answered with spirit, and I raised the camera.

“This time, try holding up the racket.”

“O-okay.”

I got a shot of Totsuka swinging the racket from a low angle, then a dynamic shot of him taking a step forward, and then when he lost his balance, I captured him in my finder again. A perfect shot!

I got all the photos of Totsuka in motion I wanted, and the photo session moved on to the next stage.

“Okay, try hugging the racket next.”

“Uh-huh… Huh?” Totsuka cocked his head in puzzlement but nevertheless squeezed the racket tight to his chest. I got a photo burst, hot shots, and then even a panorama shot. As an option, we added a towel. Nice, nice, let’s get a little bolder, I thought while enthusiastically snapping photos.

Off to the side, Isshiki was quite severely disturbed. “Isn’t that enough…?”

“Is it? Well, I guess.”

“It is.” She nodded emphatically.

Indeed, she had a point. “You’re right—that’s enough for the racket. Okay, then let’s go without the racket.”

“What?” Isshiki froze on the spot.

But I ignored her, peering through the finder as I planned out the next stage of the shoot. “You all right, Totsuka?”

“…Yeah.” His response was a little dispirited. Maybe he was getting worn-out.

It was kind of like when my cat got tired of all the attention. In other words, Totsuka is just that cute!

Under my instructions, Totsuka put the racket at his feet and sat down, hugging his knees. I took shots from different angles, from the front to the left diagonal. I had him make various poses, alternating looking at the camera and away. For shots where he was looking at the camera, I got him both smiling and showing ennui.

“H-Hachiman…are we done?” Totsuka asked, his smile strained and voice stuttering.

“O-oh, yeah…” It did seem he was a bit fatigued. What should I do…? I thought, and it hit me. “Let’s break for a bit.”

“There’s more…?” His shoulders slumped.

Mm-hmm, it seems my decision to take a break was not mistaken after all. As I was making camera adjustments to prepare for the second half, checking the photos I’d taken so far, I had a terrible realization.

“Isshiki,” I called out to her.

She must already have gotten sick of dealing with me, as she was standing quite a ways apart from us, watching from a distance. She dragged herself over to me like this was a huge pain. “What is it?”

“You don’t have any extra memory cards? We’re out of space.”

“How many photos have you taken…?”

“I’ve actually deleted the extras, you know…”

Isshiki sighed. Then she grabbed a fistful of my blazer sleeve and began dragging me away.

“That’s enough! Totsuka, thank you for your time,” she called out.

Totsuka stopped cradling his knees, snapping his head up to smile at us. “Oh, okay. I should thank you guys, really.”

I would very much have liked to capture that smile in a photo, but Isshiki was yanking me away, so I would not get my hot shot or my photo burst. And so, to capture it in the photo album of my mind, I captured one last shot in my heart.

With Isshiki pulling me along by the sleeve, we headed for the soccer club.

Their practice was out on the sports field right beside the tennis court, so it wasn’t much of a trip. Good thing, because I wasn’t much of a fan of their club.

I figured I’d just take two or three easy photos and go, but Isshiki was not letting that happen.

“Oh, right around there, please center Hayama in your shot. Oh, right now, go!” Tap-tapping on my shoulder, she gave me minute instructions on exactly when to take pictures. And then when I was done, she checked over the photos. “Show me, please… Oh, Tobe wound up in this one. Delete!” she announced, erasing the photo and shoving the camera back at me.

Well, whatever, if it’s just Tobe… Nobody will care whether he makes it in.

This sort of thing went on for quite some time, which meant we didn’t make much progress.

“Hey, haven’t we done enough?” I said. “There’s no more space…”

“And whose fault is that?” Isshiki puffed up her cheeks as she glared at me out of the corner of her eye. I didn’t really have a good comeback. In the end, I was forced to take photos the whole time, until the scrimmage was over.

When they were finally done with their practice game, Hayama walked over to us.

“Hayamaaaa!” Isshiki called, waving, and he casually waved back in response.

“I did hear the broad strokes from Yui. She says you’re making a free magazine? I see you’re doing whatever people ask of you again.” Though he wore a charming smile, there was a flicker of exasperation in his voice.

“Like I’ve said,” I told him, “that’s just what the job is. And I don’t wanna hear that from someone who left his club early to get interviewed. Sorry for bothering you.”

“That’s a weird way to thank me.” Hayama shrugged and smiled, then turned his face toward the courtyard. “You must be cold. Why don’t we do the interview over there?”

“Ah, good idea.”

The courtyard piloti area was enclosed by the school building, so the wind couldn’t get in. With a beaming smile, Isshiki took the lead, heading for a spot that looked good. Right beside the vending machine was a bench, though a simple one. Isshiki sat down, patting the spot beside herself to beckon Hayama. So calculated…

I let Hayama go on ahead while I bought a can of black coffee and some black tea at the vending machine. Juggling the scorching cans, I stood opposite from Hayama.

“You just have to say whatever sounds good. You’re good at that, aren’t you?” I asked, tossing the coffee at Hayama.

Catching it, he looked at the can with surprise, but then he let out a little whiff of a sigh and chuckled wryly. “Are you being sarcastic?”

“That was totally a compliment. Whatever. Thanks for taking us up on this.”

“…Well, I’ll do my best to meet your expectations,” Hayama said, breaking into a broad smile. Then he lightly raised one hand to me and turned back to Isshiki.

“Well then, let’s get this interview started!” Isshiki activated the audio recorder on her phone, and I set down the tea beside her, then backed up about two steps and raised the camera to get a shot.

The Hayama beyond my finder was, as I’d known he would be, the same Hayato Hayama everyone knew—but he seemed a little different from the boy who had just been joking with a wry smile.

We finished Hayama’s interview and photography session, following which we went around to a number of clubs, and then the interviewing and photography for the clubs we were supposed to be handling was done. I’d managed to get a photo of Hayama doing that gesture like he was spinning a pottery wheel, so when it came to the ratio of usable footage, it should be good.

Yuigahama and Yukinoshita had been mostly handling the girls’ clubs and would be done soon, by this time. Then the only picture left to take would be of Iroha Isshiki, who would decorate the cover of the free magazine.

At the request of the model for this shoot, we would do it in the library.

We circled from the courtyard around to the front entrance, swapped into our indoor shoes, and passed in front of the teachers’ room to head to the library.

Once it got a little late after school, there were hardly any students using the library, and it was peaceful.

“So why here…?” I asked Isshiki’s back.

She was doing a full lap of the space, walking around searching for the best photo spot. When I asked that question, she spun around to face me.

“Makes me seem more intellectual, right?”

“And what you just said makes you seem less intellectual…”

“It’s fine. I only need the image.” She stuck her nose in the air, then started walking again, pausing many times.

She seemed to finally reach a decision and sat down at an available table with a bookshelf behind her. Then she took out a compact mirror and began cheerfully checking her looks.

The tall bookshelf towered over her protectively, the dark colors of the book spines casting her in sharp relief. Perhaps so people could read comfortably, the library was bright, even close to nighttime, giving Isshiki’s pale skin a warm glow.

Being an amateur, I couldn’t really delve into further detail, but still, Isshiki had created the picture-perfect image. As expected of Iroha Isshiki—I guess this means she knows how to make herself look attractive.

“Okay. Let me take a few,” I said to her, and instead of a reply, she posed herself with her chin in her hand, elbow on the desk.

Her puppy-dog eyes examined me invitingly, emphasizing her dewy pupils and long eyelashes, and the little proud smile on her lips had a lingering innocence, despite the alluring pink of her soft lips.

Though I was properly pointing the lens at her, I’d forgotten to click the shutter. I heard someone clear their throat and shook myself out of it.

After I snapped a few photos, I lowered the camera. And then, while checking over the data I’d just taken, to cover how I’d been zoning out, I said, “You’re used to being photographed, huh…?”

Isshiki was right in the middle of looking in the mirror, considering various options as she attempted a new pose. She tilted her head at her reflection. “You think? Isn’t it normal to take pictures all the time?”

“Not all the time.” I think trips, events, and special times are the kinds of things to commemorate, and we do that with pictures. At the very least, that’s what I’ve been taught.

But Isshiki was saying something completely different. She snapped her compact mirror shut and glanced over at me, and though my camera was not pointed at her, she had on a soft smile. “But memories are important, right?”

That was normal to Iroha Isshiki.

She said she made no distinction between the mundane and the extraordinary, and that even the same old sights of nothing new or special were precious memories to be embraced.

“…Yeah.”

With only that brief reply, I once again raised the camera, thinking…

All right, is this photo a memory of the mundane, or a record of the extraordinary?

A few days had passed since we’d assembled most of the material and commenced production. We were making progress on the club introductions and the hot spot guides, and the interview article was mostly done. The design work was also going smoothly, filling up pages from the cover onward.

The articles would be just about done, after some adjustments like adding in minor captions and massaging the headlines. And the comments from the captains were mostly there with some minor text corrections.

It was going well. Or it should have been.

I’d done a neat job with the club introduction text, the articles on the recommended spots, the audio tape transcription of the interviews, and the translation of those in Isshiki-speak. We had gotten the clubs to check over the photos we’d taken. And even with the cover, when Isshiki had said she wanted it photoshopped, I had safely settled the matter with some soothing and coaxing.

But. But, for some reason, my writing was still not done.

“How did this happen…?”

Was it because I had been taking this seriously? It’s true I’d been hard at work. I had not only done the writing of the regular article page, I had also helped out Yukinoshita, and I had gone to prompt the UG Club for comments in Yuigahama’s stead.

I’d spent these past few days diligently and busily, for me. Perhaps that was why…so occupied in the flurry, I had carelessly forgotten other work…

We had two days until the deadline! I still had the whole column to do.

As I was holding my head in my hands in despair, Isshiki, standing beside me, poured some tea out of a plastic bottle and offered it to me. “Here you go. Good luck,” she said, putting the plastic bottle away in the mini fridge under the desk. She sat herself down diagonally across from me.

The tea was different from usual, the desk was different from usual, the chair was different from usual. And the room was a different one from usual, too.

I was presently being confined to the student council room, where, under surveillance, I was to write the column. The heater in the clubroom still wasn’t fixed yet, so Isshiki had very kindly offered the student council room to be my personal prison.

I glanced out the window and saw it was already evening. Even if I wanted to know the exact time, my cell phone had been confiscated, so there was no way for me to know. When I swept my gaze across the student council room, the table clock pointed to a cruel number.

I had not taken one step out of here since I’d been brought to this room immediately after school. The reason was: The deadline was the next day.

Waughhh, this is bad… I haven’t written anything… I can’t imagine making this in time…

I just typed away on the keyboard to get the words down, but I wasn’t satisfied with them and erased them halfway. I kept doing it over and over. Oh man, ohhhh man. I’m not gonna make it at this raaaate!

Seeing me flail in panic at my desk, Isshiki leaned away in disgust. Her expression seemed to want to say, Eugh… She was giving little shakes of her head, but then she seemed to notice something with a jolt, and she fished around in her blazer pocket.

“You’ve got a call,” she said, taking my cell phone out of her pocket to hold it out to me.

But when a phone call comes to you when you’re right before a deadline, there’s no way it can be anything good. I mean, if you can force something to exist, anime would never need recap episodes, and the postponement of on-sale dates due to authors’ personal circumstances wouldn’t be a thing.

So when you get a call at a time like this, it’s best to check who it is, then ignore it.

“…From who? Editorial?” I asked.

Isshiki sighed in exasperation. “If Editorial is the first thing out of your mouth, you must be stressed, huh…? Um… Ah, it says Mom. Is that your mom?”

“…From Editorial’s mom? …Their whole family is gonna come monitor me?”

“No? Why would that happen? It’s from your mom, probably.”

“Oh. I’ll call her back later, so you can just leave it.”

“Uh-huh, is that right?” With that short reply, Isshiki tucked my phone back into her pocket. And then she flipped through a bunch of papers probably related to the closing of the accounts, checking through them and occasionally stamping.

With her doing work beside me, I started to feel like I had to work, too… Left with no choice, I began clacking away on the keyboard.

More time passed.

It was already dark outside the window, and eventually, it would be time to go home. Isshiki must have finished her task at some point, as I couldn’t hear stamping anymore. When I glanced over at her, she was on her phone.

Maybe I’m good for the day, too… There’s still tomorrow, after all. If I can work harder tomorrow than I did today, I could finish it…

As soon as that hit me, my focus immediately evaporated.

“It’s no use. I can’t write anymore today. You can’t write anything good if you rush it. I have no choice but to go take a break, go home, and sleep,” I declared loudly.

Lifting her face from her phone, Isshiki looked at me. She let out a sigh of exasperation, but the look on her face was kind. “Agh, welll, I guess it’s fine.”

“Right? It’s fine for it to be just a bit late.” I think they call it a writer’s high or something. The excess pre-deadline stress, the exhaustion of continuous work, and this mysterious feeling of elation caused by escaping from reality left me laughing, “Na-ha-ha!”

Isshiki’s face stiffened. “…Huh? You’re not gonna make it?”

“W-well, who knows…”

The column was in fact just a few thousand characters, and if I worked hard that day and the next, it wasn’t as if managing it was impossible. Well, given how I’d failed to write even a few hundred characters over the past few hours, it seemed unlikely.

I hesitated to speak honestly about this. As for why—because even before I’d explained anything, Isshiki was holding her head in her hands.

“That’s not good… Not good at all… Ummm, that’s really bad, isn’t it?” Facedown on the desk, Isshiki moaned, then slowly looked over to me, her eyes a little dewy. She was muttering quietly to herself. “The funds…the early discount…additional fees…over budget…the year’s balance…”

From her reaction, I understood. When doing up the budget, Isshiki had assumed we would make it in time for that discount plan she’d mentioned, and she’d already written it down on the annual accounting report form.

Of course, I’d assume it was possible to make adjustments to that report.

This situation had been brought about because a certain Something-man Something-gaya had arrogantly taken on this project and started talking big about how he would manage somehow in a few days, then put off the column he’d brought up himself by saying “Yeah, I can dash it off real quick. Easy.” Getting cocky never ends well…

“…Th-this is bad, huh…? Uh-huh. I-I’ll put in a bit more effort, okay?” I said.

“Y-you will? Please do…” Isshiki’s eyes glimmered as she looked up at me. There was none of her usual cunning there, and I could see through to her honest self, more childish than normal.

If she’s gonna show me that, then I have no choice but to do it, even if I have to force myself…

There lies the deadline I absolutely cannot fail to make.

To tell the truth, I just can’t. Sorry for saying this out of the blue. But it’s the truth.

In a few hours, a very ordinary bell will ring.

That will be the signal for the deadline.

An editor with a small chest will come, so watch out.

Following which, after a brief few moments, the end will come.

I was zoning out.

I’d psyched myself up by saying I absolutely could not, would not fail to make this deadline—but the next day after school, I was yet again borrowing the use of student council space, locked alone in the room by myself until I finished the job. The after-school writing session from the day prior felt like a distant dream.

Despite having gotten a second wind the day before and tried for a while, just like Chiyonofuji in the sumo ring when he was at the limits of his strength, I had burned out and gone home. After getting home, I’d made a tiny bit more progress, and then during class, I’d written some more on my phone, but I still couldn’t see the end.

And now I was looking out the window of the empty student council room, gazing up at the setting sun. Of course, I was making no progress on the draft.

Oh crap… The clack-clack was not coming from the keyboard, but from my bones as they trembled in fear.

That was when a knock came on the door of the student council room.

“How are things going, Hikki?” Yuigahama asking, clipping through the door. It seemed she’d come to check on my progress.

“…M-my conservative guess? About seventy percent.”

“Oh, that’s great!”

“…Left to do,” I added quietly, and Yuigahama let out a tiny cry.

Same, Yuigahama. I’m screwed…

As I was hanging my head, Yuigahama approached my desk and planted a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s do our best! It’s okay—you’ll make it in time! I’ll work here with you, too!”

That just means she’s going to be monitoring me…

Normally, I would refuse to work under surveillance, but the situation was what it was. I had to keep the pressure up, or I was bound to drop the ball. I mean, if this were a part-time job, I’d be flaking out, but being monitored by Isshiki the day before and then Yuigahama that day, too, I’d have to do it. There’s a thing called temper for steel and men…

Finding my motivation once more, I faced the draft. I brought the cursor to my current spot so I could write from where I’d left off. And then, when I managed to wring out a few lines more, despair came to assault me yet again. Every time I looked at the blank space of the draft, I was made aware of how few characters I’d written, compared with the time that had progressed.

In one day, I had only made 20 percent progress. Filling up the remaining 80 percent in a few more hours was physically impossible; if I could make it now, then the laws of the universe meant nothing!

Wagh… As I was overcome by reality, I heard a clattering sound beside me that was different from my own typing. When I happened to look over, I saw Yuigahama sitting there, tapping into a calculator with a ballpoint pen in one hand.

“…What’re you doing?” I asked her.

Sticking her red pen behind her ear, she turned to me. “Hmm? Um, adding up all the expenses. Since when I looked at it, it seemed a little rough.”

“Isshiki’s pretty sloppy with the bookkeeping…”

“Ahhh, yeah… Well, me and Yukinon will make sure to handle that stuff!” she said with a forced smile. It was somehow big sisterly—it seemed she was trying to do her part to take care of Isshiki, her junior.

The problem was that said cute junior often spelled trouble. I mean, like, her whole thing with coming to the clubroom was already pretty bad…

However, this is just how work is.

There’s one big liar, and work comes from the process of making their big lie a reality. Out in the adult world, you call those big liars producers. In that sense, maybe you could say Isshiki was producer material. So then in terms of this whole affair, Yukinoshita was the director, and Yuigahama was the assistant director, I guess. And with this job, as always, I’d be the miserable, low-ranking, subcontracted corporate cog.

To perform my labor, as befit a menial worker, I once again faced my computer. But I just kept writing a few lines and then erasing them over and over, and I couldn’t manage to make solid progress.

Eventually, I was spending more and more time gazing out the window at the sunset, or at the clock, rather than looking at the computer screen.

The passage of time alone is enough to press the spirit to the limit. And with the exhaustion of sitting at the computer for a long time, before I knew it, I was letting out a deep sigh.

“Are you okay, Hikki?” Yuigahama must have heard my big sigh, as she rose from her seat and came up a few steps to stand beside me, examining my face with concern.

Her face was so close that if I reached out, I could just about touch it. She was near enough that I could practically hear her breathe. The proximity and eye contact made me embarrassed, and thoughtlessly, I pretended to gulp and turned my head away.

“It doesn’t look okay, schedule-wise…,” I muttered to cover my embarrassment, when suddenly, a weight came down on my shoulder.

“If you don’t make it, then we cross that bridge when we get there.”

When I turned just my head around to look back at her, I found Yuigahama’s small hand gently sitting on my shoulder. Her thin fingers clenched into a fist, grabbing the fabric of my blazer. “I’ll apologize with you, and I think Iroha-chan will understand, too. It was kinda too much to begin with.”

“Well, it’s true, but…,” I said, twisting around in an attempt to escape her hand, but it wouldn’t move away. Eventually, she began to tap, tap away on my shoulder in small motions.

“It’s not like it’s your fault. If we abandon this now, nobody’s gonna blame us. It’s not like it’s something we absolutely have to do, anyway.”

Her remark was a little surprising. Yuigahama had never expressed negativity toward any of the requests the Service Club had accepted before.

Confused, I turned my whole body without thinking and saw a weak little smile on her face. “…I don’t think I want you to have a hard time, Hikki.”

“That’s such an unfair thing to say.”

For a comment that just popped out of my mouth, my tone was gentle enough that even I could tell. You could even call it weak and listless. If she was going to say that in such a calm voice while tapping on my shoulder, of course my shoulders would relax.

But it also built a tension in me.

I’m not yet so detached that I could back down now after a wonderful girl said that to me. The very offer of such kind and sweet words was why I could not rely on them or let myself off the hook. So no matter how stupid this whole project was, even if this had been an unreasonable ask, I couldn’t leave it now.

“I guess it is unfair…” Yuigahama’s hand stopped. It just gently lay on my shoulder, then eventually slowly lowered.

“Ah, I mean, that was just, like, a figure of speech.” It’s a bit rude to accuse ill of someone who was showing concern for you. I turned around in my chair, properly facing Yuigahama with my whole body. And then, despite my fluster, I struggled to find the appropriate way to express this.

But Yuigahama didn’t wait, giving a big nod. “…Yeah, maybe I am being unfair!” she said in a bright voice with a smile, as if I’d somehow won her over.

I really couldn’t figure out what that reaction meant. To communicate my intentions as precisely as possible, I said, “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s, like, actually in a good way, I mean…”

She gave a little shake of her head to cut me off. “I think I really am unfair… It’s always like, I can’t really stop you, and I can’t really help you. And, well…everything else.” Maybe she was thinking aloud, because she faltered frequently. But I think that just meant the words came from somewhere deep within. It’s like when people speak vaguely with a shy smile or look away—there were feelings she was trying to cover up.

Nevertheless, she was looking straight at me this time.

“So… So that’s why… Next time this sort of thing happens, I’ll be better.”

In her earnest expression and the words she delivered slowly, there was an empty vagueness that grounded me in reality. Eventually, anyone will do it right. You have to. Though you don’t know how or what, or if you can do it. I’m sure anyone will be thinking something along those lines.

Of course, I’m no exception there. That was why first, for the time being, I had to do the thing in front of me. I turned my chair around and faced the computer once more.

“It’s fine. I’m always just doing my own thing. You’re not at fault for not stopping me. I mean, like, it’s my fault for being the one who makes promises without thinking them through. So, well…I’ll try to figure it out somehow.”

“…Okay… Then let’s do our best!” she said with cheer and gave my back an energetic push.

Ahhh, nooo! I wanna go home! I don’t care! I don’t care about the draft submission or the revisions or completion! I’ve had enough of being hounded by deadlines and being locked up to work! I’m quitting work and this draft!

“Wahhh!” I landed facedown on the desk. I was currently alone in the student council room, so I could scream to my heart’s content.

I’d handed Yuigahama a printout of my work in progress and had her give it to Yukinoshita for me. After that, my focus had completely broken.

Well, I had somehow, some way, brought it to the 80 percent point. With that added motivation I’d gotten from Yuigahama, I think I’d tried pretty hard, for me.

However, the remaining 20 percent just wouldn’t come out. I leaned into the back of my chair and looked up at the ceiling. Ahhh, I wish the Illuminati would come down on me… I would like to be permanently banished from ever working again…!

I believe focus is not continuous, but something that comes in short bursts. That’s why pulling a couple of all-nighters is not going to push your progress ahead dramatically, and systematic progress on a regular basis is important. But there’s no point in coming to that realization right before the deadline, huh? It’s just like before exams, seriously.

Still staring up at the ceiling, I was zoning out like my batteries were drained when there came a knocking on the door of the student council room. Lacking the energy to answer, I just looked in that direction, but despite my lack of reply, the visitor entered.

“Are you done?” Addressing me was Yukinoshita, her bag flung over her shoulder.

“…If I were, I’d have told you.”

“True,” she said as if that made sense to her, and then she ambled up to me and pulled out some papers from her bag, marked up in red ink. “The printouts I just received. Right here, this is a sentence fragment that’s missing the back half.”

“O-okay.”

I accepted the pages from her, and as I skimmed over them, a number of errors caught my eye, including the missing sentence. As I applied her corrections to my draft, I continued to feel a presence beside me. “…Did you have some business?”

“Oh, no…it’s not enough to call business,” Yukinoshita said, sounding a little rattled, folding her hands behind her before stepping away to pull out a chair beside me. She rummaged through her bag a moment, soon found a file folder, and pulled it out to begin some task.

It seemed she was going to work here while monitoring me. Her presence meant there was really no time before the deadline.

She didn’t have to put pressure on me. I understood just fine how bad this was.

Once I was done applying the corrections from the printouts she’d given me, I scrolled down the screen to finish off the remaining 20 percent.

It was only a few hundred characters left.

If I just wrote that much, then I’d fill the space, at least.

Although that would make up the difference, if the column was shoddy, the one to get the heat for it would be the editor-in-chief, Isshiki. I couldn’t accept this task so casually, then act like I didn’t give a damn if she got bashed.

Ultimately, I was forced to make a completed product of a certain level of quality. Or rather, if I wrote junk, then I’d get hit with corrections from our editor, Yukinoshita, and then also from the editor-in-chief, Isshiki. Rather than getting hounded by their revisions, it would be faster to put serious effort into writing from the start.

Mustering up my final dregs of energy, I kept on typing at the keyboard. One minute, then two minutes passed on the time display under the screen as I filled line after line of white.

Eventually, my hands came to a stop, and they moved no more after that. The words slipped out of me, my voice utterly drained without my noticing. “…I’m done.”

“Oh, really?” Hearing me, Yukinoshita sounded glad as she started to stand.

I raised a hand to stop her, pitching straight forward to slump my face on the desk. “No. I’m done for. I can’t do it. It’s no use. I can’t think of anything. Not a single character will come out…”

“That’s what you meant…” With an exasperated sigh, Yukinoshita sat back down in her chair. “That’s a problem. We have no more time, you know?”

“Yeah, I do get that, but still…”

I understood it horribly well. But my head would just not work, no matter what. My brain had low motivation to work in the first place, so this seemed out of my control. Just as a wrung rag won’t let out a single drop of water, not one more word would come out of me.

I leaned all the way back in my chair and looked up at the ceiling. I was all out of options…

My hands, curled up in front of the keyboard, would not move, but neither would they leave the keyboard. My body faced up to the ceiling, just like the corpse of a bug. I’m an insect…an incompetent louse that can’t even make it on time for a deadline. Starting tomorrow, I will go by Insect Hachiman. And then I will chuck my human card into the ocean…

As I was staring up at the ceiling, my mind lost and abandoned, Yukinoshita slid into my field of view. Looking down at me, she seemed somehow unsettled. “…Here,” she said, and she dropped something wrapped in a handkerchief on my chest.

Raising my head and picking up the bundle, I found it was slightly warm. When I opened up the handkerchief with cute cat footprints, a MAX Coffee emerged from within. It seemed she had made a basic effort to keep it warm.

Seeing this, I let a smile slip.

“Go clear your head. This isn’t something that will somehow work out if you just keep staring at the screen. It’s best to take a bit of a break,” she advised, turning her face away, before returning to sit in her chair and resuming her task.

“Thanks…” I decided to accept the gift with gratitude. After opening the tab, I zoned out while sipping the coffee and gazed at her profile.

Yukinoshita’s hands never stopped all the while. She never said a word; the only sound was the scratch of her red pen running over paper. I felt like I was hearing that sound an unusual number of times.

“…Is it that bad?” I asked.

“Huh?” She turned to face me. Then her gaze dropped to the paper in her hands. It seemed she understood what I was trying to say. She waved her red pen, then touched it to her lips as she said, “…Yes, but it’s just things like typos and kanji errors. There’s nothing horrendous, so don’t worry. In fact, I’d say the other two had more errors.” Yukinoshita giggled, as if it were a joke. She looked rather more innocent than usual, and it felt appropriate to her age.

“I mean, you’ve kind of been penning in a lot of red, so it made me a little anxious.”

“Oh, yes, I just forgot to mention we’re adding phonetics to the difficult kanji, so I’m putting it in directly myself. Just while I’m doing the revisions.”

“Sorry for giving you more work.”

I hadn’t meant anything in saying that, but Yukinoshita’s hand stopped, and she set her red pen down on the desk. Her shoulders slumped despondently. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I should have made sure to confirm your progress, and I should have known even you would make mistakes.”

“Uh, naw, really, this was just me underestimating how long it would take. And wait, the heck? Is that super-high-level sarcasm…?” I asked.

She smiled and gave a little shake of her head. “Yes, but…I mean I was also underestimating the situation.”

So she really was being sarcastic…

Regardless, it was clear that both of us had made errors in judgment. We had still not reached an understanding when it came to me, to her, or about ourselves. It was just like this moment of indeterminate day and night, when the colors of the twilight reached across the sky out the window, and by the time you think you’ve figured it out, the moment has passed, and the colors are changing again.

“I’m the one who’s done the least,” she muttered, looking vaguely out at the glow of the sunset.

“It’s enough. Neither I nor Yuigahama are any good at keeping a schedule or project management. And Isshiki is decent at talking big and balancing the books, but she isn’t the type who can keep a project moving systematically…,” I answered as I gazed out at the same sunset.

But she and I probably saw different colors. Was hers red, pink, scarlet, crimson, burgundy? Or was it orange? I wouldn’t really mind no matter what shade it was.

“Well, so…you’ve been fairly helpful.” Pulling my eyes from the window, I returned my attention to the student council room.

The sunlight streaming in cast crimson over the room. When I turned to Yukinoshita, sitting beside me, her head was downcast, and I couldn’t tell what was on her face. But her ears and neck, peeking out from under her hair, were also that same color.

“…I…hope so.” That little murmur seemed lacking in confidence, almost sulking, after a short sigh.

But that was only for an instant. She immediately lifted her face, sweeping her hair off her shoulders to say in her usual commanding tone, “I’ll make some adjustments on the back end to buy you time.”

“Ah? O-okay… Wait, you can do that?” I asked, but she didn’t answer.

Instead, she started dialing some number on her cell phone. “…Yuigahama? There’s been a change of plans. If it’s not completed on time, then send in the text that’s done and submit, inserting dummy text for the final portion, and then we’ll revise it in the proofread. That’s all. Can you also tell that to Isshiki? …Yes, thank you.” She hung up, then gave me a look that seemed to be confirming, Were you listening?

“…Is that okay?” I asked.

“This is ultimately only an emergency measure in the event we fail to make it in time. I have included the costs of the extra revisions in the budget, just in case, so there’s no problem there. If that happens, I’m afraid of not being able to do the final proofread anymore…but there’s no way around that, this time,” Yukinoshita said with a smile.

She’d even planned out, as a last resort, a little grace period in the schedule, on the off chance something unexpected occurred.

Good grief, after all that ragging on me for being soft, who is it being soft this time?

Well, I can’t deny that I am, in fact, soft myself. However, even if I’m easy on myself, the flexibility will sometimes make me snap back in the opposite direction. So her being so forgiving with me made me want to turn down her kindness.

Tossing back the remainder of my coffee, I slammed it down on the table. The clash of the steel can on the steel desk made a clang.

“I’ll finish it,” I declared, and I faced the computer once more.

“…All right. Then do your best,” she said quietly and briefly, but it was enough to reach my ears.

Maybe it was thanks to the break, or maybe it was thanks to the sugar content of the MAX Coffee reaching my brain, but my hands never stopped on the keys.

As I wrote on without looking at the clock, I never even noticed Yuigahama and Isshiki coming into the student council room. The three girls all sat down in a cluster at a diagonal from me, just staring at me without speaking, waiting anxiously for me to finish writing.

I-it’s hard to write like this…

Nevertheless, I put one sentence after another, then finished it off with a line to tie it together at the end. I pressed the Enter key then, but my hands refused to leave the keyboard right away. I just ran my eyes over that one line countless times, making sure to myself that I had no more words in me, until my heart understood that finally, I had reached completion.

“Now I’m finally done…”

The strength left my body all at once, and I leaned into the back of the chair, letting my arms dangle.

When I heaved a sigh of relief, Yukinoshita came to the seat next to me. “Do you mind if I look?”

“…Sure.” I pushed the laptop over to her, and she immediately began checking it.

Yuigahama and Isshiki watched with tense expressions. I, however, had not much tension at all. Why? Because now I’m free! Deadline? What deadline?! Fwa-ha-ha! I’m free! Suppressing the desire to shriek, I waited for her to finish reading.

And then, after some time passed, she looked up from the computer. “…No issues. Isshiki, your turn.”

“R-roger!” Next, Isshiki began the final check. But if it had gone through Yukinoshita’s approval, it was probably fine.

And with this, my work was done. Maaan, a world without deadlines is the best!

As the feeling of release filled my brain with a drunken haze, Yuigahama and Yukinoshita spoke to me.

“Hikki, thanks.”

“…Nice work.”

“Yeah, thanks, guys. Sorry it was late.” Oh, good gracious, I was experiencing such a feeling of euphoria, I’d accidentally let myself believe I’d accomplished this on my own, but this time, if not for the others observing me, I would probably definitely have bailed before I’d finished.

When you take that into consideration, you might in fact say it was their presence monitoring me that was causing me to experience this current elation.

…So that means, in other words, that editors and deadlines are like a dangerous drug. They should absolutely be outlawed. Say no to deadlines.

“I’ve checked it. No problems,” Isshiki said as she slammed the laptop shut.

Yukinoshita nodded back at her. “We’ve managed to make it in time, so how about I brew some tea for us in the clubroom?”

“Time for an after-party!” cheered Yuigahama.

“Yeah!” Isshiki replied with equal enthusiasm.

Yukinoshita shot Isshiki a cold glare. “You do one last check of the whole thing. And have Miss Hiratsuka skim over it as well. That’s the editor-in-chief’s job.”

“Whaaat?” Isshiki whined. Yukinoshita’s eyebrows twitched.

Picking up on that aura, Yuigahama cut between them. “Come on, we’ll still be here, so you can just come over once you’re done.”

“Wahhh… All right, I’ll nail this quick, then go right over.” And before Isshiki had even finished saying the words, she squeezed her pen. Her eyes wide like saucers, she started checking over everything.

With that sight still in the corner of my eye, I went out into the hallway.

On the way to the clubroom, Yukinoshita let out a short sigh. “…If only she would have dredged up that sort of motivation from the start.”

“She can do it if she tries, huh?” observed Yuigahama.

“Some people are like that. They can’t do it unless they’re under pressure,” I said with a wry smile.

With a mean-spirited grin, Yukinoshita looked at me. “My, who could you be talking about?”

“It’s just human nature.”

The Service Club room heater had been repaired the day before, so in a drastic change from the other day, it was warm and cozy.

It wasn’t like the student council room was particularly uncomfortable, but I could relax better in the clubroom. It wasn’t really an emotional thing—I feel like it was more instinctual, more territorial. Well, after frequenting an area for nearly a year, a dog or cat would treat it as their territory. I’m no different.

However, I did get the impression that due to the past few days of work editing the free magazine, this familiar space had become a little disorganized.

As Yukinoshita was making the tea, Yuigahama and I decided to clean up.

We gathered together all the papers and disposed of the garbage. After a while, we finished up, and I was sitting my exhausted body down. Yuigahama made this ah sound. Turning around, I saw her holding the camera I’d used for the interviews.

“Hey, let’s take some pictures. Of the Service Club!” Yuigahama suggested, and a little wrinkle came together in Yukinoshita’s forehead. Seeing her reaction, Yuigahama tilted her head like she was asking permission. Yukinoshita gave a little shake of her head in response, and this time, Yuigahama cocked her head in the other direction.

As the two of them were arguing back and forth with facial expressions, the door to the clubroom rattled open.

“I turned it in, quick and dirty!” Isshiki announced as she came in.

Uhhh, you didn’t need to say the “quick and dirty” part…

When Isshiki noticed Yuigahama with the camera in hand, she sounded surprised. “Oh, so you guys had the student council camera? Are you still using it?”

“She says she’s going to take a photo of the Service Club,” Yukinoshita answered, as if she had nothing to do with this club.

You’re a member, too, right…? Wait, you’re the captain, right?

“Then I’ll take it for you,” said Isshiki.

“You be in the picture, too, Iroha-chan!”

“Yes, another time, definitely! …So first, all the members of the Service Club.” Though Isshiki was smiling, she refused bluntly and just held out her hand. Maybe this was her way of being nice.

Yuigahama seemed to understand this, as she handed the camera right over. “Oh? Thanks. Then please do! Let’s all take one together after!”

“Um, I haven’t said anything about taking one yet, though…”

“You just don’t know when to give up, Yukinon,” Yuigahama said flatly, leaving Yukinoshita at a loss for words.

Well, Yukinoshita’s obviously going to fold in the end anyway… She could try to resist, but the end result would be the same. I know the feeling.

But I remembered there was a problem with that camera. “…By the way, there’s no more space on the memory card.”

“Ohhh, yeah. ’Cause you took sooo many of the tennis club,” teased Isshiki.

“What would you be taking pictures of, to use up that much space…?” Yukinoshita said with exasperation.

Yuigahama thought about it for a moment, then gave a big nod. “The tennis club… Sai-chan, huh…? I can see that.”

“That makes sense to you, Yui?!” Isshiki wailed.

So she’s finally given up, huh…? Wait, what if she’s acknowledged us…?, I was thinking, when Isshiki clapped her hands, then rummaged around in the pocket of her blazer.

“If there’s no space, theeen are you okay with this phone?” Isshiki asked as she pulled out my phone. That reminded me that I hadn’t gotten it back from her that day.

“Ahhh, well, there’s plenty of space, so it’s fine,” I said.

“Then I’ll take it with this!” she suggested with a wink, raising the phone straightaway. Was this also her version of being nice? Frankly, when it comes to her, I have no clue…

“Ummm, then you can just sit down right there, and Yui and Yukinoshita can be, like, standing behind you.”

“Okay!”

“U-um… Agh…”

Isshiki briskly gave directions, and Yuigahama took Yukinoshita’s arm. It seemed Yukinoshita had finally given up resisting, and the both of them lined up behind me. …Behind me?

“…Huh? Isn’t this arrangement kind of weird? Don’t you think this kinda makes it look like a family portrait? Shouldn’t we spread out a bit more?” And, like, they’re close! Too close! I know it’s for a photo, but being so close makes me a little anxious, so please spare me.

When I tried to scooch my chair away to get some distance, my shoulders were held down from both sides. Looking up, I saw an ice-cold smile on Yukinoshita’s face.

“You don’t know when to give up, Hikigaya.”

“Says you…”

“We’re good to go, Iroha-chan!” Yuigahama shoved at my shoulder, too, as she called out to Isshiki.

“Right, then here I go! Say cheese!” There was the sound of the shutter, along with the flash going off a bunch of times.

Agh, I’m definitely making a weird face… This is like a family portrait…

I was still angsting over the whole situation when Isshiki moseyed over and returned my phone. “Here… It’s a good photo,” she said, and she smiled in a bit of a grown-up way. I wasn’t about to ask what she meant by that. I’m sure it was nothing more than exactly what she said.

“Send that to me, Hikki. Oh, but wait, Iroha-chan, let’s take one together!”

“Okaaay! Then you take it for us, please.” Isshiki gave my shoulder a pat, then hurried over to Yuigahama and Yukinoshita.

“I would rather not…,” said Yukinoshita.

“Nope. Let’s take it all together!” Yuigahama told her.

“So what order do we stand in?” Isshiki asked.

As the three of them quibbled over the composition, I took a quiet look at my phone. There was the photo we’d just taken of the Service Club.

…Yeah, it’s not as bad as I thought. I mean, it’s not very portrait-y.

And plus, it seemed to me that this photo depicted the way the Service Club was, the way we were, that I hadn’t known how to write about then. So it really wasn’t as bad as I’d thought.

I still had no idea what to call it, or how to define it. Maybe that was how we could share it. I’m sure of it, in fact. If you were to put it into words, it would probably give form to those conflicting feelings and tie them down.

“Hikki, take the picture!”

“…Right-o,” I answered Yuigahama, and I stood up to point my phone camera at them.

Yuigahama, with her usual bright and cheerful smile.

Isshiki, with her first-class pose.

And then Yukinoshita, embraced by each of them from either side, looking a little annoyed, but also with shyly blushing cheeks.

How many more trivial, mundane scenes would we be able to accumulate?

One day, when I’m old enough to feel nostalgia for this image, what sort of pain will accompany that memory?

With these thoughts in mind, I snapped the photo.