5
Based on the aforementioned, Hachiman Hikigaya has a hunch.
There were more people around than usual in the classroom at lunch. Those who’d gone out to buy their lunches were all filtering back into the room, too. I was one of those people.
I pulled my pastries from their paper bags and spread them out on my desk. Normally, I’d eat my lunch someplace I could feel free and at ease, but not today.
Water streaked along the window, raindrops hitting the veranda railing.
It had started raining that morning, and it neither grew heavier nor petered out—it just kept drizzling steadily down. Watching the half-assed shower made me feel kind of cold.
But inside the classroom was even more bleak.
At the front of the classroom, the air was so heavy, you might think the rain had blown in. It looked like another showing of The Tragedy of Sagamin was open to rave reviews. With a seat in the front half of the classroom, I got a good view.
It seemed there was a new show on the program: My Crush Suddenly Asked Me to, So I Wound Up Sports Festival Committee Chair, and There’s Some Obnoxious People, and They Were Saying Stuff About Me Again, You Know. That’s a long title. How do you abbreviate that?
There was Sagami with a particularly morose expression, and sitting opposite her was some girl from our class, and then there was one other girl who was standing at her side with concern.
“They wouldn’t come out and say it, but they basically told me to just quit…”
“What? That’s pretty mean.”
I could feel them glancing over at me just for an instant. C’mon, don’t steal glances at me, or I’ll think you have a crush on me.
The capacity to detect looks of derision and scorn comes standard for loners. Loners are essentially those who make the world the enemy; for them, daily life itself a battlefield. Therefore, they gain such skills to protect their own life and spirit. It’s just like how a master can sense the presence of another or nearby hostile intent. Or I guess it’s a little different. Yeah, it’s different.
If you know it’s coming, then you can break the fall. It was just like the rain falling outside right at that moment. If you know it’s raining, you can bring an umbrella. Although you’ll get wet whether or not you have one.
“I wasn’t doing a very good job handling things, though, so it’s my fault. But, like…”
“Nooo, that’s not true! The one at fault here is…”
The Sagamin low-pressure front—otherwise known as a depression—continued to whip around and gather force. Its damage was spreading to other regions as well, attacking passersby.
“Ohhh man, this rain sucks! Everything was dripping wet in front of the school store.”
The one to get caught there was Tobe. It seemed he’d lost some game and been made to go buy everyone lunch, as his arms were full of pastries. When he came strolling in from the front of the classroom in his usual flippant manner, he was caught in the indoor cyclone.
“Oh, hey, Tobe, did you hear about what happened?”
“Huh? What, what, what happened?” The paper bags in his arms crinkled as Tobe perked up his ears.
The girl quietly leaned in close to Tobe.
…Huh? She’s blushing a little—it’s not that she actually has a crush on him or something really dumb like that, is it? Damn you, Tobe…
As I was glaring at him with murderous eyes, Tobe jerked back and smacked himself in the forehead. “Whoa! Geez, figures. Hikitani’s nuts, for real!”
“H-hey! Tobe, you’re too loud…”
I’d thought for sure this would lead to the sudden start of the Tobe Love Story theatrical release, but such concerns of mine were clearly misplaced, and the subject was me after all. I’m the center of conversation here? Damn, I’m so popular.
“Man, that’s wild. I mean, Hikitani can be like that, though. Like, just a while ago…”
Ugh, and now they’ve dug up that old stuff again… Stop talking about the same stuff over and over again… Well, if you pull something once, people will keep bringing it up forever, and you just gotta deal. But if you talk about the same thing too many times, then you might find your own social status dropping, you know?
It looked like Tobe was ready to jump right into that conversation as he dropped the bags of pastries on the desk.
…Is that okay? Didn’t your friends ask you to go buy those? I wondered, and I was soon proven right by the click-click ing sound of nails tapping on a desk. A high-pressure system was heading directly for the center of this cyclone.
Glancing behind me, I saw Miura was irritated. Deep in the slight glare of her eyes, I thought I could see a blazing flame. You’re really scary, man…
“H-heeey! Tobecchi, hurry, hurry!” Yuigahama beckoned him, sensing that Miura was in a mood.
Noticing that, Tobe waved back at her. “Oh, coming! …Sorry, they’re calling for me, so I’ve gotta go,” he said, and the depression clique easily released Tobe.
“Oh, okay.”
Maybe they didn’t care about speaking to Tobe, and anyone would do. Or was she keeping her mouth shut because she could see Miura behind him? Well, it could be either, which got Miura even more irritated.
“Sorry!” Tobe said, setting up all the pastries, and Hayama and their group were all like, Oh, hey, thanks, nice, while Miura was narrowing her eyes in displeasure.
“That took a while,” she said without trying to hide her ill humor, but in the process of choosing her snack, her mood improved somewhat. She picked up a chocolate cornet and chuckled triumphantly. Maybe she was just hungry?
But I couldn’t be looking off elsewhere forever. I mean, Yuigahama kinda seemed concerned and was glancing over at me.
Guess I’ll eat my stuff quick and hole up in the library.
When I exited the classroom that lunch break, the hallway was bustling.
It was noisier than usual, maybe because people couldn’t go outside like they wanted. Nobody was gonna play tag in the halls, of course (although we did have a contingent of idiots who might get carried away), but the kids coming and going from the classrooms were energetic.
Every time I passed the doorway of a second-year classroom, I could sense eyes following me. Together with the humidity, the barely withheld snickers as I passed were the most uncomfortable thing.
It seems there’s a tendency for students in this school to erroneously believe that once you’ve met with criticism one time, they’re allowed to bash you openly. Standing out is bad, and when bad stands out, it’s their duty to target you.
The important thing here is not to cater to or give into it. As long as you don’t acknowledge a loss, then it isn’t a loss, and if you don’t make a problem a problem, then it won’t be one. The very moment you acknowledge defeat is when you get hit the hardest. Thanks to a prevalent belief that justice prevails, those who lose will be branded as bad—and you can attack bad as much as you like.
That’s the rule of school society.
You may attack those of low status, the failures, the loathed. That’s how school is—you’re constantly being judged. All are plaintiffs and all are accused. The prosecution, defense, and jury are all the same group. And the judge who makes the verdict is also the masses. Ultimately, we are continuously tied by the concept of “everyone.”
I doubt the day will ever come when we’re freed from that.
The normie tendency to gleefully hang out with others may actually be a countermeasure to avoid that judgment. I’ve come to suspect that’s a precautionary measure taken to prevent people from talking bad about them behind their backs.
While ignoring the eyes following me and occasionally returning glares to intimidate them, I arrived at the first-floor vending machines. Before going to the library, I had to buy a postprandial coffee.
My hand was going straight for the button when I heard light footsteps from behind. It seemed someone else, like me, had come to buy a drink.
I took the Max can from the machine and quickly moved out of the way. I know I’m good at not getting in the way.
But I didn’t hear the footsteps come forward.
What, are they afraid to even come a step closer to me? I wondered, and I turned around.
Whereupon I saw the one in question, Hayato Hayama, smiling uncomfortably.
He nodded casually at me as if just checking that I wasn’t going to say anything, then went for the vending machine. His fingers hesitated on which to pick before buying a black coffee. Oh, he’s buying a coffee that’s not MAX in front of me—is he picking a fight?
He popped open the tab with a spritz, and even what he said next was kind of inflammatory. “…Sounds like things aren’t going very well.”
“Huh?”
That statement was on a vague line between trying to start a fight and admonishing me, but if you knew how much he tries to avoid conflict, you could tell this was sincere concern. He was probably talking about the sports festival. He’d roped Sagami into this for us, so it wouldn’t be strange for him to be aware of what was going on.
“People always fight when you put them in a group.”
This was something that I—No, I think Hayama would probably recognize this maxim, too. With impromptu groups like these committees in particular, it was less common for everyone to be all buddy-buddy. The more people you have, the more quarrels you get.
And I told Hayama as much with a slight hint of mockery for bringing it up this late in the game. He didn’t smile. “That’s not what I mean. I mean with the class.”
I’d thought for sure he was talking about the Sports Festival Committee, but it seemed not. By “with the class,” did that mean he was talking about Sagami? Was he concerned about her, like Miura was?
Not that it made a difference.
“The answer’s still the same.”
That ultimately didn’t change the root of the problem. Essentially, the only point was whether she could get along with people. Relationships are a pain in the ass, after all. Whether that’s in the macro or the micro, it makes no big difference in what you do.
This is why I could say the same thing for both cases.
“Once things go sour, you can never go back,” I said.
He didn’t seem satisfied by my answer. Instead of raising his open can of coffee to his lips, he just gave me this accusatory look. “…You think?”
“Yeah, I do,” I said flatly. I was turning around to go back to the classroom when I heard his voice from behind.
“I’m sorry about the sports festival.”
“What?”
I turned to see Hayama’s gaze slightly lowered. “This is happening because I recommended Sagami without thinking it through…”
“Oh, we’d already decided to make her do it anyway. Even if we hadn’t asked you, we’d have found a way. You actually helped us by saving us trouble. So it’s got nothing to do with you, really.” Intervening in anything he sees that resembles a quarrel is kind of Hayato Hayama’s nature. We’d made use of it, and now here we were. That’s it. It didn’t make sense for him to apologize to me.
“But I agreed to do it. If there’s something I can help with, I will, so let me know.”
“O-okay…”
But despite his offer, this would need more than “something.”
Or so I was about to say, but Hayama picked up on that and offered a charming smile. “I’ve heard some things from my club.”
Uh-huh, so it’s already gotten spread around, huh?
But this was a more serious blow than I’d thought.
Perhaps due to the character of its captain, the soccer club was on the gentler side. And even the soccer club, led by the absolute charisma that is Hayama, was in a bad place.
So things would be even worse in the other clubs. They could well become even more uncooperative from here on out. Talking behind someone’s back both engenders a sense of unity and solidifies opinions so that people persist in them more stubbornly. By gaining agreement and consensus, it entrenches them.
One option here would be to pull the Hayama card.
By winning over influencers like Hayama and the soccer club, we could manage the sports festival without a hitch.
But that might help further Hayama’s reputation, not Sagami’s. It would bring about the same results as Yukinoshita righting the ship during the cultural festival as the de facto chair… Still, Sagami herself would probably be glad to have Hayama helping her.
But that would upset Miura even more, and then if Sagami backed away in deference to Miura, the class atmosphere would sink into a deflationary spiral. If it turned into a standoff instead, that’d be a pain, too…
No, hold on here. I could be certain the committee would dislike Sagami even more if she got help from Hayama, so it was very plausible they’d oppose us even harder…
Both Hayama and Yukinoshita were certainly wild cards, but hard to use. This time, we had to move around the pawns, keeping Sagami at the center.
While I was working out simulations of people’s actions like a chess problem, I heard a confused-sounding voice.
“Is something wrong?” Hayama shot me a questioning look at my sudden silence.
“Oh, no… Well, you know. I bet it’ll be fine, so you don’t need to worry.”
“…All right.”
“I’ll let you know if anything comes up. See you,” I declared, then spun around to go.
Hayama seemed like he still wanted to say something, but he realized I wasn’t going to listen. Instead, he silently raised a hand.
I strode swiftly down the hall.
Hayama was an excellent trump card against Sagami and also against the crew of the committee, but I couldn’t use him on both parties simultaneously. Now that Sagami and the crew were in opposition, you couldn’t make use of Hayama’s peacekeeping skills for both sides. In fact, it would sow new seeds of conflict.
First, I had to do something about the conflict between Sagami and the crew.
And to that end, I’d decided on the move I would make at the meeting that day. I considered myself basically prepared.
But even so…
Once things go sour, you can never go back.
My own words stuck like a knot in my chest.
Every set of footsteps coming into the meeting room was heavy.
Considering where we were when we’d ended the last time, that was no surprise. One day isn’t going to erase that discomfort—in fact, you’d still be distilling it in your own head.
That meant the participation rate was slightly lower than the day before, and there were a lot of people who came in just barely on time, or late.
Accordingly, the meeting started five minutes behind schedule.
Meguri, who’d been staring intently at the door the whole time, glanced over at the clock. “Sagami, I think we could get started about now…but do you have a minute, first?”
“…Yeah,” Sagami replied, but she didn’t quite get up.
“I-I’ll go with you…” Yuigahama started to get up, perhaps to prompt her, but Yukinoshita grabbed her hand to keep her here. Yuigahama reluctantly sat back down again.
That was for the best.
What Sagami was about to do was an act of ritual purification. No one else should be getting involved. The shame of being seen during this would be unbearable for Sagami.
Sagami blew out a deep, deep sigh, then stood with resolve. If she waited any longer, then one of us would wind up being witness to it. I’m sure she wanted to avoid that. Her pride—or maybe her vanity—was a quiet thing.
Her steps were fast, considering how slowly she’d stood up. She headed for the back of the meeting room, where the central figures of the crew were sitting.
There were the aforementioned Haruka and Yukko.
They shot Sagami looks as she walked up to them. Were those looks of contempt, or scorn? Or maybe just curiosity.
Sagami was going to tell them the reason she’d come here.
“Um, do you have a minute?” When she addressed Haruka and Yukko, the two of them looked at one another. After an instantaneous conference via eye contact, they both looked up at Sagami.
“Sure, but…now?”
“We can’t do it later?” they asked back at her.
Highly aware of all the people around her, Sagami took a steady breath. “…Now would be best,” she said, and this time, the girls answered without sharing a glance.
“Then…go ahead.”
“The meeting’s about to start, so we can talk here, right?”
When the girl smoothly added a condition, Sagami’s words caught in her throat. “…Huh?”
A ripple of nearly inaudible snickers escaped from Haruka and Yukko’s group of friends.
Meanwhile, the others in the meeting room deliberately maintained silence. They just listened closely, without saying a word.
This was her purification ritual—and her punishment.
With all eyes watching, blushing to her ears with shame, Sagami’s shoulders trembled slightly.
But nevertheless, she managed to put one word after another. “Um, I’m sorry… I wanted things to be fun, so I wasn’t thinking about anything else…,” she apologized.
Haruka and Yukko, plus everyone else, listened in silence to her fragile voice.
This was verging on public shaming.
But someone who stands in an exposed position will be the target. It’s the rule of society that when something bad happens, it’s okay to attack and grind down and sneer at the person who occupies the top position. Hence the demand for Sagami to talk here.
Had Sagami’s apology satisfied their desire?
Haruka or Yukko (I don’t know which) awkwardly fiddled with her hands a bit as she opened her mouth. “…It’s fine. We weren’t thinking about anything but our club, so we were at fault, too.”
The crowd from the sports clubs seemed to be on the same page. They were quiet, but there were a few distinct yeahs and uh-huhs.
Maybe Sagami heard that, as her words gradually evened out. “Yeah…um, so… I really do want to make this a good time, and I want to work hard at it. So it’d help a bunch if you could work with me… Oh, of course, I’ll try to make sure we don’t overburden the clubs,” she said, firmly raising her chin. In response, the crew members averted their eyes just slightly instead.
But nevertheless, her intent reached them enough to earn her a reply.
“…Yeah, we’ll do what we can, too.”
“Thanks. I’ll be counting on you.” Sagami bobbed her head, and that seemed to end the conversation, as she turned around and came back to us.
Meguri breathed a sigh of relief as she watched the situation come to a close. “That’s that, then.” She turned back to me with a bright smile, and it kept me from doing anything but nod.
“…Yeah.” But as the word rose in my throat, I had to choke down an uneasy discomfort like a little fish bone stuck in my chest.
If you were just looking at the surface, then it had indeed been wrapped up. In terms of the formal protocol, it was easy to assume this was resolved.
But if you looked a little deeper, a number of things came into view.
This is a bad habit of mine.
What Sagami had said sounded like an attempt to save herself and even blaming them by showing how her position was justified, while Haruka’s and Yukko’s apologies just sounded like a formality with no actual promises made, using their club activities as a shield.
It was awful to picture.
However, assuming the worst of a situation usually means you’re right. I’m right so often that occasionally I get deluded into thinking I have the power to see the future.
As I sincerely prayed to be wrong for once, I quietly waited for the meeting to start.
After waiting for the arrival of latecomers, the meeting began.
Under the watchful eye of Miss Hiratsuka, the first to open her mouth was Meguri. With what had just happened, maybe she felt uneasy about suddenly leaving it to Sagami.
“All right, then let’s begin the meeting. First, we’ve come up with an improved plan since the other day. Yukinoshita, can I ask you to give us the rundown?” she said, and Yukinoshita stood.
“Of course.” Yukinoshita glanced over at the others of the student council, and then they swooped into action. It seemed that, at some point, they’d become absolutely obedient to her.
The student council gave everyone printouts. Yukinoshita, with those same printouts in hand, began to explain. “Concerning scheduling with clubs, we’ve created a rotation of shifts from now until the day of the event. We have taken all the club tournaments into account, so please take a look.”
A stir of confused murmurs rose from the crew, who’d been looking over the sheets as they listened. It seemed something here was unexpected, and they were taken aback.
Well, depending on how you looked at it, it could seem like she’d decided this for them arbitrarily. But we were ready for that.
“Um, this plan is to fix things, so if there are any more issues, we’ll make adjustments. We’ve explained this to the club captains, and I don’t think it should be too tough…” Yuigahama swiftly came in to back up Yukinoshita. Since she was associated with the upper caste, everyone would know she could easily coordinate with the captains of all the clubs.
That kept anyone from voicing anything resembling a complaint… Although, I’m sure Yukinoshita assumed this matter was already settled.
“And also, regarding the Chibattle, we will amend some of the rules and simplify the costumes to reduce the burden. This way, we can expect a reduction in the work required, so we should be able to manage with fewer man-hours than the goal brought up at the meeting the other day.” Yukinoshita calmly continued with her explanation.
What the heck is a man-hour? Is that the hour after you come back late at night from a day of grueling, unpaid overtime to watch old recordings of PreCure and cry? Mmm. Maybe not.
This explanation of hers not only didn’t give them any choice here—it was close to a threat.
The shift sheet Yukinoshita had made up very courteously included a comparison with the old one. I couldn’t tell if she was a fast worker or if she’d just had the extra time. Probably both. In all likelihood, she’d included it to prevent the crew from arguing their way out of this, so I’d add her twisted personality to that list of reasons why no one could get out of this.
Still, it worked, and the crew decided to comply.
After scanning the dead-silent meeting room, Yukinoshita took a seat. It seemed she meant to leave the rest to the chair.
Picking up on her intent, Meguri prompted Sagami. “Then continuing from the other day…”
“R-right. So then we’ll be assigning tasks based on this schedule…”
Watching as Sagami lead the meeting, I quietly rested my chin on my hand.
We’d planned things out to this point. We’d adjusted the schedule, which had been the issue during the meeting, and coordinated with the captains of all the sports clubs. We’d also proposed cost cuts for the Chibattle, which seemed like the most labor-intensive task, and we’d also arranged the reconciliation between Sagami and the core figures of the crew, Haruka and Yukko.
In the current situation, there was nothing else for me to do, and this should be enough of a fix to make a recovery.
But still, my eyes moved of their own accord, trying to weed out every single element of uncertainty.
My powers of imagination always suppose the worst and never sleep.
It’s less to avoid such situations and more to soften the shock when the inevitable blow occurs. Which is rather sad, if I do say so myself.
I mean, the pain when you know ahead of time versus when it’s a surprise is different, right? You aren’t affected as much if you have the sense that it wasn’t gonna work anyway, certainly not as much as when you’re feeling confident and get totally crushed. If you can keep the damage to a minimum, it won’t take long to recover, either. This is life wisdom.
In the meeting room, the labor was solemnly allotted. From what I could see, there weren’t any really big problems.
Sagami was managing things smoothly, and Meguri was by her side. And with Miss Hiratsuka’s watchful eye from the edge of the room, no one would cause any fuss.
Superficially, it seemed as if there were no quarrels to be had.
But nevertheless, I spotted that one moment.
When Haruka and Yukko came forward to write their names on the whiteboard, their faces went blank right when they passed by Sagami. And then after they’d passed her, they sort of nodded at each other.
“Hey…”
“Yeah…”
I could hear them whispering. Maybe they’d been talking about other things, too, but I couldn’t know about that.
Well, they had just apologized. It was unlikely that the awkwardness hanging between them would disappear right away.
I abandoned any further observation or speculation, leaning back in my chair until it creaked, and I stretched my back.
When I leaned back far enough to nearly fall over, I saw the world upside down.
All I could see were the droplets streaking over the window behind me. The rain had yet to stop.
Some time had passed since the meeting the other day, and the committee was functional now.
Though if you were to ask if things were going smoothly, the answer was, not quite. We’d come up with a shift schedule, but the labor efficiency had actually gone down.
It’s a fantasy to think that nailing down shifts and a schedule will make everyone operate according to plan.
We’re not machines. Sometimes we don’t feel well; sometimes we’re sleepy. Sudden plans will come up, and there are times when we’ll just kind of flake out, too. That’s why you put in a certain amount of buffer when you assemble shifts and schedules. I’m sure Yukinoshita had, in fact, done that.
But still, there are things you can’t make up for.
Shifts are basically an establishment of roles. It’s a promise and an oath in a way, and it’s also a limitation that states once your role has been decided, you’ll absolutely not do any more—you don’t have to go beyond.
In conclusion, having laid out a complete division of labor had, paradoxically, unfortunately fixed a ceiling on their labor values. Ironically, the very thing we’d come up with to motivate them to work had instead become shackles on their productivity, creating a reason why they didn’t have to work.
Well, I get it. There are many times in life when you want to complain like, What? That’s not my job, though… It’s not right when you’re forced to foot the bill for something that someone else didn’t do. It’s not right. Seriously, I really mean it!
…So why do I have to be doing so much damn hard work?
As I was putting together the program and simulating the flow of traffic during the event, yet another stack of documents was thumped down next to me. I flipped through it, wondering what it was this time, and found it was the application documents for the items to be borrowed for events.
“…”
With a rough scratch at my head, I stood up from my seat for a bit.
I needed a breather. I might just go outside for a little and go home for a sec and get in the bath and eat and then go to bed. As a breather. Breathers are important.
Figuring I’d buy myself a coffee or something, I was about to leave the meeting room when Yuigahama caught me.
“Oh, Hikki! Great timing.”
I seemed to recall she’d been involved in constructing the entrance gates or something outside. What, is she on a break or something? I wondered, and I asked with just a movement of my head if she needed something from me.
“Man, we don’t have enough people! Come help out, Hikki.”
“Uhhh, I’ve got work, too… And wait, what happened to the crew?” I asked.
Yuigahama laughed weakly. “Ah-ha-ha… They said they have club…”
“Again?”
That had been a frequent pattern these past few days.
Using Sagami’s promise to “not overburden the clubs” as their shield, many had been leaving before committee time was over or simply skipped entirely. And the attendee decrease had lessened the focus of those people who were present, and efficiency was dropping like a rock.
Everyone has their own things to deal with, and it’s not like you can always be ready to work at full force. So when a hole opens up somewhere along the line, someone else will wind up filling it. However, as long as everyone was only considering their own shifts, those holes would not be filled. We’d prepared an ample buffer to avoid such a situation, but we were still losing our ability to cover it.
That was the reason all of us executives were out working ourselves. Yuigahama in particular went out of her way to help wherever she could, busying herself with the event coordination as well as doing hands-on work herself.
But if you sat down and thought about it, she wasn’t really suited for construction… Partly because she’s a girl, but especially because, if her taste in cooking is any indication, I kinda get the feeling she doesn’t have much aptitude for making anything. I wouldn’t want her to be causing trouble for others right now, and it’d be an issue if the labor lagged further behind. This was around the point when I was getting sick of doing nothing but desk work, and getting on my feet for a bit seemed like it might be nice, and also…also… Well, I guess I was fine with whatever.
“…Well, I can help a little while I’m on my break.”
“Okay! Thanks.” Yuigahama gleefully prodded me along.
Cracking my shoulders and neck, I obediently went where she directed.
We walked through the hallway and down the stairs, and I saw a bunch of people in this pillared courtyard area making some unidentifiable bar-like object that I guessed would be the entrance gate. I assumed the crew was handling this for us, but it turned out the one grinding away with a saw was one of the student council.
The crew weren’t moving around much, and they were constantly glancing over at the clock.
“What the hell is going on here…?”
“Well, ah-ha-ha…” Yuigahama laughed to smooth over the awkwardness, but I frankly couldn’t find the humor. It wasn’t like we had that much extra time until the sports festival. And this was where we were?
I’d imagined this would happen, but actually witnessing it still just about broke me. If we were in this state, then did it even matter if I flaked out?
“…This is like…me at my part-time job.”
“Hikki, I’m impressed you didn’t get fired with that attitude…”
I wonder about that, too, but for some reason, I still don’t get fired even when I totally half-ass it, you know? Though I actually wanted to get fired. Also, if you just feign ignorance, they often leave it at that. The store had to be aware of the risks in hiring high school kids. I’d even hazard they could find a replacement fairly easily.
We wouldn’t find replacements for this committee easily, though. Of course, we could try talking and negotiating with all the clubs and soliciting more people, but we didn’t have the time or personnel to communicate everything from square one. Working things out together should be the fastest way.
But still, I surveyed the scene again with my characteristic rotten glare. I could scan this crew all I wanted, but none of these people were motivated to work. And as a completely unmotivated person myself, I know what to look for.
As I was wondering about just what to do here, beside me, Yuigahama scratched her cheek with a wry smile. “I thought about trying to talk to everyone here, but the time didn’t seem right…”
“No, that was the right choice.” If she’d made a big speech now, it would have only stirred up animosity instead, and then we’d be done for. We’d already gone past the stage of trying to motivate people.
It would be best to go with my usual style of not counting on others for everything. If someone’s not doing it, they’re never gonna do it, no matter what you tell them.
We’ve gotta make signs and entrance gates and lots of other stuff, huh? For now, I guess we’ll just finish up what’s been started.
I managed to find one familiar face among the student council members there and headed for where he was working. Looking over, I saw a bunch of guys taking a break behind him. Maybe they were taking turns working? (I’m playing dumb here.)
“I brought some help!” Yuigahama said, pointing to me, and the student council boy looked relieved.
…Yeah, you’ve done some good work on your own. Without a word, I extended my hand. He picked up on my intention and passed over the hammer. I nodded. He nodded back at me, then walked over to the shade and took a seat there.
The members of the student council were a valuable labor force. We couldn’t be pushing them too hard, now. Go have a nice break.
Dangling the hammer in my grip, I checked over the job, then squatted and got into position. “Then let’s do this.”
“Yeah!” Yuigahama replied, crouching on the other side to hold down the piece of lumber.
Uh, um, if you squat down right in front of me, I can almost see your panties… Put on your gym pants for this stuff! Agh! I don’t even know where to look!
I swung the hammer in an attempt to sweep away such intrusive thoughts. If I didn’t concentrate, I’d hit my fingers.
While we hammered away together, the guys who’d been resting all this time unsurprisingly seemed to get uncomfortable. “Guess we’ll help out,” one of them said as they finally started to get up, among other worthless comments. And then, very graciously and kindly, they resumed working where we could clearly see them. They had to feel like they were being monitored. This had actually worked to deter them from slacking, more or less.
Occasionally checking that they were still working, I hammered in nails. Guess this is what you might call hammering a point in, huh? Heh, that one was pretty good…
We continued working for a while, and then suddenly, one of the guys from the crew called out. Of course, not to me. “Oh, hey, Yuigahama.”
“Yeah, what’s up?” Yuigahama reacted, turning around. That threw off the balance of the board I was hammering, and I nearly smashed my finger. Whew, that was close; if I’d hit my finger, I might’ve screamed something like Kugyu!
Hey, that’s dangerous, okay? Hold it down like you’re supposed to, all right? I thought, lifting my head to complain, but Yuigahama was looking off in another direction. It seemed the guy who’d come to talk to her was showing her something.
“Does this look good?” he asked.
“Yeah, I think it’s fine… I don’t know for sure, though.”
You don’t know…? She sure is careless…
The student council member scooted over, whispered a word of advice to her, and left again.
“Oh, it sounds like it’s okay.”
“Thanks. That helps. Oh, and so, like, some more things might come up that I don’t know about, so if you could give me your number…”
“…You hear that?” Yuigahama said, looking over to the aforementioned student council guy. He popped out from the shade and pulled out his phone, and they immediately exchanged contact info.
“Th-thanks…” The guy from the crew thanked her with a stiff, difficult-to-read expression.
…Well, some guys are like that. They’ll use events as an excuse to hit on girls. There’s nothing to be done about this. Ignore it, ignore it. Just don’t pay attention to any of it. Right now, I’m nothing more than a craftsman pursuing the art of swiftly hammering in nails. I won’t be concerned with anything else. So if I wasn’t concerned with it, then I wonder why I could hear their voices so clearly? How mysterious. This was one of the top three seven wonders of the world. Oh wow, that’s twenty-one wonders in total!
“So anyway, what do you do on the weekend?”
Even knowing he wasn’t saying it to me, I still glanced over at the guy and saw he’d already stopped working and was fully in chat mode. Come on, even on Emiko Kaminuma’s Chatter Cooking, she keeps her hands moving a little more than that as she does it. Learn from Emiko.
But it was inevitable that the conversation would continue. Yuigahama won’t ignore people when they start conversations with her.
“Huh? Just normal stuff. Oh, but lately, I’ve been busy working on the sports festival. Including today.”
“If you’re working on this on the weekend, then how about we come help once we’re done with practice? If you give me your number, we can contact you.”
Yeah, yeah, someone who wanted to help out wouldn’t have been slacking off earlier, you know? Whoops, my palms suddenly got all sweaty. I’d expect nothing less of myself. This is the very guy who was forced to hold hands with a girl in the second year of elementary school on a field trip and whose hands got sweaty and grossed her out. With my hands sweating this much, I might let the hammer slip out of my grip and smack right into the back of the head of this jock. Heh-heh-heh.
When I was looking up to make sure my hammer would accidentally slip in the right direction, Yuigahama said, “Oh, that’d be great! But if we do a good job this week, we won’t have to do any more this weekend. And I really wanna go hang out on days off.”
Even after she turned the subject back to work, it seemed that boy was quite past giving a damn, and he kept chatting. He was coming off pretty insistent… “Hang out, huh? Where do you go to hang out?”
“Huh? Usually, Yumiko decides… Well, I guess I leave that stuff to her?”
“Oh, Miura… Miura, huh…?” The boy’s voice was a little quieter this time.
Yeah, this is, like, proof that I’m concentrating real hard. That has to be it. It’s like that thing when you’re studying while listening to music, and before you know it, you’re not hearing the music anymore. Empty the mind, empty the mind! Just concentrate on the wood. This isn’t the time for distraction. Look, it’s just, you know, because I love work so much…
…Ugh, let’s finish this thing up quick and get out of here.
Banging at the nails was starting to feel like part of some curse ritual. Smoothly hammering along, I reached into the box with the nails for the next one, but my hand swiped through air.
“…There’s no more nails.”
Six-inch nails, that is. Wait, no, normal nails are fine.
“Here,” someone said, and I looked up to see Yuigahama offering me some nails. They clinked together in her hand.
“…Uh-huh.” Making sure not to touch her palm, I carefully took a nail. You know, this is just like the time I discovered that when a cute convenience store clerk firmly takes your hand to give you your change, you get a crush on her. Those who would be boys must avoid direct physical contact.
“Wait, you’re already done?” I asked.
“Huh? Done what?” Yuigahama gave me a blank look.
Of course I couldn’t explicitly say talking to that boy. “Well…if you’re fine, then it’s fine,” I added to avoid the question and returned to the nails.
Yuigahama is popular with guys.
Tobe had said that before in Chiba Village, during summer vacation. Tobe hadn’t said it personally to my face, but I did hear that.
I think it’s entirely natural.
She’s got a cute face and a nice figure. She’s cheerful and sociable. For someone at the top of the pile, she doesn’t act self-important, and she can flawlessly get along with anyone.
Most of all, she’s nice.
And her one flaw—that she’s an idiot—can come off as a good thing to some people.
At events like these, the boys and girls feel closer (even if they’re not), so it’s to be expected that guys she’d normally have no interaction with would come talk to her. For her, I think that’s probably not limited to events, though.
But actually witnessing it, I was again reminded: She really is different.
…She’s not normal. Just as you’d expect from the top caste. Whether it was deliberate or unconscious, it was a little weird she could avoid all that after he’d pushed so hard.
As I was pondering this, I noticed that the area around us had become real quiet.
“Huh? What happened to those guys from earlier?” Looking all around, I saw the only one still here was that student council guy who was resting. Aside from him, it was just me, and Yuigahama in front of me.
“Yeah, they said they had club stuff or something, and they left… Actually, that was probably thanks to Yumiko.”
…Oh, I knew it. She consciously avoided it, huh?
It seemed she’d deliberately brought up Miura’s name to avoid that boy. Despite what you’d expect from how Yuigahama looks and normally acts, she’s tough. She’s got strong skills in girl politics, or maybe I’d call it class politics. Stats-wise, I feel like she’d have about 90 Politics or so. Also, I feel like Miura would have around 95 Leadership. How scary do you gotta be that you can use that to ward off boys? Oh, though I understand the feeling. Miura is scary.
Though she could’ve just given him her number, but I’m sure she has her reasons. Besides, thinking too deeply about that would send me way down an ugly rabbit hole, so better to just stop there.
Pulling myself together, I adjusted my grip on the hammer. “…Anyway, let’s do this.”
“Yeah!” Yuigahama raised her arm with that cheerful reply.
But I’m basically the one doing the work here.
The hammer clanged.
The noises of the task resounded particularly loud in the courtyard, mingling with the yells of the baseball, rugby, and soccer clubs on the distant field, and sharp whistling from the track club.
After hammering in one, two nails, I felt a focused gaze on me.
“…What?” I asked. Not a fan of being stared at.
Yuigahama flailed her hands in response. Uhhh, please keep holding the wood, though…
“Oh, it’s nothing, nothing… But, like, Hikki, you’re surprisingly good at this.”
“Anyone can do this.”
Boys just sort of wind up knowing how to use tools, through Mini 4WD and stuff. Of course you use screwdrivers for that, but you also need wire cutters, pin vise drills, and sandpaper and stuff.
And not just with Mini 4WD—boys always want to make things, once they get the tools. You get some random scraps of wood, and you’ll make some weird whatever, and cardboard box architecture is a given. Whether you’re good at it is another thing, but you’ll at least learn to do simple construction. Especially boys who have nothing else to do.
Well, girls don’t really do that stuff. Maybe in the future, when we have to come check on this kind of work, it’d be best for me to come. Though I hoped that wouldn’t be necessary in the end…
As I continued swinging my hammer, lost in my thoughts, Yuigahama suddenly muttered, “Y’know…this kinda thing is sorta nice.”
“What? How?” In terms of progress with the work, we were completely up against the wall. Also, it was weird for me to be working this late, and also weird for us to be doing this work… We had other stuff we actually had to be doing…
I shot Yuigahama a dissenting What are you talking about? glare, and she suddenly smiled. Like she found it funny.
“Kinda feels like a high school memory in the making.”
“…Are you dumb? This right here is total corporate slavery.”
If staying behind to work is a high school memory, if being made to do other people’s jobs is a high school memory, then adults with jobs must all be reliving their youth years every day. At the very least, my own dad is stupidly tired when he comes back from work and full of endless complaints against society and his workplace, so I very much doubt that is making the most of your youth.
“I mean, isn’t your idea of high school memories more sparkly and ridiculous and incomprehensible and stupid or whatever?”
“What the heck are you imagining?! That’s not what I mean!” she shot back like this was completely outrageous for me to say.
So that’s not it? I thought for sure she did like that stuff, though.
She sighed for a long time. “Aaagh. Listen, during the cultural festival, I spent all my time with the class, so we never got to do anything together, right?”
Now that she mentions it, that’s true. In fact, I think Yuigahama’s efforts were a big part of how we’d managed to handle things well within the class. I dunno, she just gets picky when it comes to the nitty-gritty of the budget, you know…
But maybe that was just the sort of activity that, to her, had potential as a youthful high school memory.
“You got that whole ‘youth’ experience with the class, right?” I said. “And you played in a band with Yukinoshita, so be proud of that. That should be youthful enough for you, too.”
“It’s not just that…” Yuigahama puffed up her cheeks and looked away with a pout. Her face was flushed. The descending sun’s rays poured down from above the special-use building, and before long, it had colored the whole courtyard crimson.
If I could assume that Yuigahama’s definition of youth was to accomplish something together with Yukinoshita, then, well, I dunno, that’s, like… Love is heavy.
I should offer her some advice here. “If you’re so glued to her all the time, that’s exhausting, too. And the moment you become aware that it’s exhausting is the most exhausting part.”
“Whoa… That’s an awful thing to say…” Yuigahama was aggressively disturbed.
Don’t just jerk away your whole upper body. It’ll mess up the contact patch between the boards. Act as freaked out as you want; just keep it in place. I fixed the shifted boards, then hammered nails into the remaining corners.
Hmm. That should be enough for now. Next, I guess I’ll saw off all the spots that are sticking out. The people of Chiba have a deep connection with saws. That’s because there’s a mountain in Chiba called Saw Mountain—Mount Nokogiri. There’s really no other connection there. In fact, I’d even say they have nothing to do with each other.
I stood up and went over to get a saw. Finding one handy, I returned to find Yuigahama still pouting.
“That’s not what I was trying to say, though…,” she complained.
“Well, whatever.” I adjusted my grip on the saw and set my foot on the sign to stabilize it. I kept my gaze completely focused to prevent my hands from shaking. “As long as you’re in this weird club, we’ll wind up doing this sort of thing again. You can do stuff together anytime.”
How much would the grinding of the saw drown out our voices? I continued swiftly drawing the blade back and forth at a diagonal.
“…Yeah, that’s true.”
But no matter how much noise I made, there wasn’t much point. I could hear Yuigahama’s voice clearly.
I was the one to say that we could do this stuff at any time, but I believed my own words the least of all.
It’s best not to assume there will always be a next time. You can’t afford to believe that. Relationships between people are more unstable than you think. Including ours.
I whittled down that piece of wood bit by bit, scattering dust and splinters until my hands felt no more resistance, and in the end came a dry clunk.
I worked until we reached a good stopping point, then decided to leave the rest to Yuigahama and the student council members, returning to my own task.
When I entered the meeting room, Yukinoshita lifted her head and looked over at me. “My, I thought you’d disappeared somewhere… Have you already finished that simulation of the crowd flow I asked you for earlier?”
“If I had, I’d be handing it to you.” Doesn’t take much to figure that out. Since work is something you want to drop as soon as possible, I’d obviously be throwing it down the moment it’s done.
When I shot her a look, Yukinoshita coolly swept back her hair. “I wasn’t asking to confirm. It was pressure.”
“Is that right…?” Well, if someone asks you, Is it done yet? you’ll have no choice but to reply, I’m doing it right now! You can never say no in this workplace.
Guess I’ve got no choice. I’ll work. If someone’s putting pressure on me, then I’ve gotta do it. Yukinoshita is impressive as always, with her high-pressure reputation. I wonder if she also puts pressure on her heart to keep its growth in check. Well, I hope her whole chest region will resist and grow bountifully.
Grumbling to myself, I wearily sat down in the seat that had been prepared for me beside Yukinoshita and resumed the task I’d been interrupted in before.
I checked the papers piled on the desk, ready to go through them.
Ooone, twooo, threee… Four… But wait…
There’s even moooore work…
I shot a “Bancho Sarayashiki”–style resentful look at Yukinoshita. When she noticed it, she glanced toward Meguri.
…Ohhh, I see; it was Meguri. But looking at her, I could tell she was very busy, too. Should we be forcing her to do this when she has to study for university entrance exams? And, like, the student council elections are soon… She probably can’t retire until we have a successor. Then we should reduce her burden at least a little.
Scratching my head, I got myself back in gear and faced the paperwork once more.
Writing in the spots where the students would be sitting, the avenues they’d take from place to place, the standby locations for upcoming events, and the positions of the entrance gates, while comparing with my own memories of past events, I simulated the movements of crowds and made the appropriate adjustments in the positioning of various things.
This is so boring…
“Take care of this, too.” Yet another item was added to the mountain of paperwork: some pages in a clear folder.
Listen, my desk is not a drop box, so you can’t just pile on everything…
Looking to the side, I saw Yukinoshita typing at her computer. Mgh, so she’s working, too, after all… When someone else is working, you feel like you have to, too. I really don’t think peer pressure is good.
Well, it’d be nice if this pressure would also work on the crew, but unfortunately right now, the unspoken rule was that minimal effort was fine. And that being the case, we were forced to do the job instead.
I got this, but even so, I had to whine about it just a little and let off some steam. While my hands remained busy, I also moved my mouth. “Nothing but work lately.”
“Surprising, isn’t it?” she replied calmly. Of course, her hands also never rested, and the sound of her clacking away on the keyboard was the same.
As Yukinoshita said, it was indeed surprising. I never thought I’d find myself doing this much work… “Right? My dad would faint if he heard I was working.”
“I wasn’t talking about you… But that is certainly surprising, too. And your father sounds like a character.” I heard her sigh in exasperation.
But I had an answer that would explain everything. “’Cause he’s my dad.”
“That’s strangely convincing… But more to the point, it was Sagami who surprised me.”
Startled by the mention of her name, I turned to the side to see Yukinoshita looking at Sagami working at a seat on a diagonal from her.
“She’s actually doing her job,” said Yukinoshita.
“That’s a mean way to put it…” “Actually”…? You’re the one who recommended her for the position, though…
But even saying that, I was a little surprised, too. I’d thought for sure that Sagami would lose all motivation, but it was like she’d pulled herself together, made an about-face, and was taking the job seriously.
Well, this was clearly a do-or-die situation for her. If her reputation crashed here, she’d have no chance of rising up again. If she failed, the only path left for her would be to maintain her pride by tearing down those below her.
But the question is, Is diligent effort enough? And the answer to that is no.
It seemed Yukinoshita also understood this well, as she added, “Although, it’s unfortunate that she’s not particularly good at it, so it’s not enough for me to be able to leave my work to her.” Ouch.
“If you’re comparing her to you, I think that’s a given.” If you made Yukinoshita your standard, you’d probably wind up treating most people as incompetent.
For just an instant, Yukinoshita shot me an accusatory glance. “It’s not just me. There are others who are fairly capable.”
“Well, I’m sure there are some, but…” I figured the only ones who would be on a level with her would be Haruno and Hayama.
“Besides…,” Yukinoshita continued quietly. At some point, her hands had paused in their task. They were lightly balled over her keyboard, as if she couldn’t find the strength to make fists. “…I wouldn’t call myself particularly talented, either. Judging from how this schedule is collapsing.” There was a click as she pushed a key. Maybe she was revising the schedule to adjust for our current progress.
But this wasn’t her fault, as the one who had made up the shift schedule. In fact, without that, I doubt anyone would have done anything.
“It’s not like this is your fault.”
“You think…?”
“Yeah, I think. Society’s at fault. Definitely.”
“That goes well beyond just passing the buck…” Yukinoshita chuckled derisively before stretching her back and facing the computer once more. As if to make up for the time we’d just spent chatting, her hands flew across the keyboard.
She was feeling responsible, most likely, but this really wasn’t her fault.
The reason behind the lagging of the work was bigger and more obvious than shifts or schedules. The problem here was motivation.
Though there was no boycotting going on in this committee, there was constant opposition and a tendency for things to grind to a halt. When it came to physical labor, the crew would use Sagami’s promise of “making sure not to overburden the clubs” as their shield to leave.
Of course no one would feel motivated in this environment.
But they still came to work according to the shift schedule, and when they used that shift schedule as an excuse, you also couldn’t be flexible with the personnel management. Ultimately, the executive team made up the difference.
In the end, as before, I got a chain of odd jobs on an overtime schedule.
There were also a lot of uncertain elements that we had yet to work out.
If things continued this way, the project would soon fall apart.
After a few days of nonstop work, just hearing the hustle and bustle in the morning got me depressed.
Though it was the beginning of a new day, everything already felt like it was over, weighing us down. Because the other classes all crowded around the school’s front entrance, that air flowing through there felt particularly hollow and superficial.
People who aren’t really on bad terms but who seem vaguely distant with one another. Friends of friends. Friends who had shared a class last year but drifted apart since. People in the same club. With all these individuals encountered at varying distances, everyone put on a different mask for the different people they spoke to, and those personas will be different from your true self.
Everyone uses various lies to different ends on a daily basis. However, loners are pretty amazing in this area. They’re all alone from beginning to end. To use folktales as an example, it’s like how the simple types who are always honest to everyone inevitably get rich.
By immersing myself in my stupid thoughts, I completely cut off the noise around me, shifting slightly to the right and left as I walked to avoid bumping into the flow of people. It’s just like a Dempsey Roll.
Arriving at my shoe cubby, quietly muttering “Makkunouchi, Makkunouchi,” I thrust my hand forward. I wasn’t punching or anything; I was just grabbing my indoor shoes. These dumb fantasies are so much fun.
When I stuck my hand into the cubby to get my indoor shoes, I felt my hand hit something crumply.
What’s this? I thought, and I looked.
…Oof.
Someone put garbage in my shoe cubby…
The wrappers of some snacks and balled-up scraps of paper had been stuffed into my shoes.
Huh? What the hell? Is this bullying?
I figured I might as well check and see if anything else had been put in it. While I was at it, I also peeked into the cubbies of the people above and below me, but mine was the only one with garbage in it.
…Well, here we are, I guess.
This made sense to me, and I felt my heart become strangely cold. The awareness of it also brought a heavy weariness from my shoulders to my back. It wasn’t like anger or sadness—the perfect descriptor would be something like resignation.
Being ignored and snubbed was no different from always, so I wasn’t bothered by it. I talk behind people’s backs, too, so I can understand that. But I don’t get it when people engage in this sort of childish behavior. What meaning is there in this? Who gains from it? What benefit does it yield?
I’d thought that because this school was university oriented, there would be fewer idiots, but there are exceptions to everything. This wasn’t nearly as bad as it could be, being that bullying at our school has never reached the point of violent behavior. And I might call it fortunate that the garbage stuck in there didn’t include any food. The world is overflowing with so many idiots, so I could consider myself lucky that the one I was dealing with was no worse than this.
Thanks to this, I’d learned a lesson.
When someone falls, they fall to the very bottom.
Everyone acknowledges that it’s okay to attack someone who’s already a target.
For just the slightest moment, I stopped moving.
I’d thought that I was prepared for anything at this school, no matter how bad it got, but I’d still gotten a little upset. I still had some ways to go. I was embarrassed at myself for losing my presence of mind for even an instant over something so stupid.
Well, if this was all, then there were still ways to deal with it.
I quickly pulled myself together and grabbed the garbage that had been put in my shoe locker. And then I focused my sixth sense on the people around me… Good, my stealth ability is still intact. It seemed I could still use it in a crowded and chaotic environment.
Once I’d made sure that nobody was paying attention to me, I reexamined the position of my shoe cubby.
Since our student numbers were assigned based on phonetic order, the number right before mine was Hayama’s, and right before that was Tobe. Before that was Totsuka. The shoe cubbies were also assigned based on our student numbers, so our four names were in the same order.
This is divine providence!
I put the garbage I’d grabbed into Tobe’s shoe cubby, which was positioned relatively close to mine.
…Forgive me, Tobe. Just as I had become a sacred sacrifice to someone else’s dark pleasure, this was a necessary sacrifice for myself.
Well, it was a decent enough self-defense ploy. I could use it anywhere or on anyone, but this time around, it was effective.
My hands were dirty now, so I shook them off with a clap and calmly left the area.
Then from behind, I heard some overly excited voices. It seemed Tobe had finished morning practice and was running in through the front entrance.
I glanced back to see that he was saying his hellos to his various friends as he stuck his hand into his shoe cubby.
“Heeey, bro! Wait, huh?” Tobe froze, apparently sensing something was off. And then, with some trepidation, he pulled out his indoor shoes. “Huh…? Ahhh! For real?! What?! Hey, hold up, huh?!”
That dramatic yell drew everyone’s attention.
As the crowd watched Tobe from a slight distance, a few who looked like friends of his came up to him and burst into laughter.
“Whoa, Tobe, this is pretty hilarious.”
“Pfft, that’s bullying, isn’t it?”
Tobe responded to each comment with melodrama. “Hold on, man! There’s, like, garbage in my shoe locker! What the hell, am I getting bullied?! Hey, am I getting bullied?!”
Despite his volume, his brave front was somewhat transparent. Guilt pricked my heart. Urk, sorry, Tobe.
As I was silently apologizing, Hayama was weaving through the people around Tobe. Like Tobe, he had to be returning from morning practice. “Tobe, keep it down…” Hayama was low energy and seemed annoyed with Tobe’s wailing into every corner in the school.
But Tobe just got more excited, as if to make up for Hayama’s lack of enthusiasm. He gets so worked up when he sees Hayama; does he have a crush on the guy…?
“Hey, Hayatoooo! Listen, oh my god. Someone put some trash in my shoe cubby! Like from Pocky or Kari-Kari Ume. Oh, and there was Otoko-Ume in there, too!”
“…” Hayama’s expression suddenly hardened. Still silent, he reached into his own shoe cubby and froze, glaring into the darkness.
But only for a moment.
He pulled out his shoes and shoved his feet into them, turning around and smiling at Tobe. There was none of the coldness that had been there before. “You should keep your shoe cubby cleaner. Maybe someone just mistook it for a garbage bin. Take your indoor shoes home sometimes to wash.”
“Hey, Hayato! Brutal!”
“I’m joking. If this happens again, we’ll find some way to deal with it. Right now, let’s go leave our things in the clubroom.” Hayama flicked Tobe in the forehead, and as Tobe’s head snapped back a little, Hayama lightly patted his shoulder and prodded him on to their clubroom.
“Dude, this is nuts. The Ministry of Education was full of crap saying bullying doesn’t exist at this school. This is why I hate politicians!” As he walked off, Tobe continued to loudly complain.
Impressive reaction. I doubt there are many who’d take a hit like this in such an annoying way. What’s more, he was spreading the information around as if he had to get attention out of it right now.
I have nothing against Tobe. It’s not even about liking or hating him—I just don’t really care about the guy. Shoving that garbage into Tobe’s shoe cubby wasn’t about resentment; it was self-defense.
Tobe is an attention-getter, so his publicizing this info would prevent whoever had surreptitiously pulled this move from making any further direct attacks. There was no need for the perpetrator to be watching this spectacle. They’d eventually hear it through the grapevine.
It was a gamble as to whether Tobe would make a scene about this, but I believed Tobe would. He may not look it, but he’s a pretty bland character when you get down to his core. He might have been genuinely stunned, but knowing Tobe, he’d opt for making a scene to defend himself. He wouldn’t take it as bullying that he should worry about; he would accept it as teasing or nice material for a joke, diverting the issue toward humorous banter.
There were two reasons I thought that to be the case.
The first is because Tobe’s kind of a ditz. My hopeful hypothesis had been that he’d get the conversation going in a lighthearted direction.
The second was Tobe’s own position. Since he was associated with the top caste, there would be a tendency to assume he wouldn’t take hits like that, and most of all, he had supportive backing if he ever did. That was why he could deal with it as a joke. Or maybe he has a pride that kept him from letting people see him get down.
Whichever it was, this may have been the first time I’d ever been thankful to Tobe. His spreading this around would make it harder for the culprit to do anything. There was no need for me to bother looking for them. There was nothing to be gained. If there were no more attacks, then it’s all good. And even if it did continue, then I’d sacrifice someone else when that time came.
Fwa-ha-ha-ha! Too bad for you! Perhaps until now such underhanded methods may have worked for you, but I’m three times more underhanded than you guys think! By the way, I’m also a sneak, too! …Phew.
But was I hated enough that someone would do something like this? That was a little surprising. Well, being that I don’t involve myself much with others, this may have been the only way they could attack. This shouldn’t escalate any further, but…
Pondering the future, I headed off to the classroom.
Going up the stairs, I turned the corner to walk toward 2-F when I realized it was particularly quiet. Though it was normally stupidly loud, right at that moment, the only noise was murmurs like ripples.
Scanning all the way down to the end of the hallway, I noticed everyone was watching something while keeping their distance. They’d stare for a bit, only to look away again and whisper and giggle to each other.
I looked over to the center of the storm.
There was Minami Sagami.
And then there was Haruka and Yukko.
A crowd had formed a circle around the three of them. Some were standing on Haruka and Yukko’s side, while others were standing in the center. There were students near Sagami, too. I caught sight of Yuigahama among them.
At a glance, I could immediately tell they were arguing about something.
I gave them a curious look, and Yuigahama noticed me and trotted up.
“What’s going on here?” I asked, and she leaned in to bring her mouth close to my ear. Hey, that’s too close.
“So Sagamin said hi to someone, and they ignored her or something, and now it’s kind of a fight…” She breathed a tired sigh against my ear, making a shiver run down my neck, but this didn’t seem like the time to point that out.
The aforementioned trio was glaring angrily at each other. Judging from where they were standing, it seemed Sagami had run into Haruka and Yukko when she’d been about to go into the classroom, and that was when they’d ignored her.
Because she was practically barring the door at the rear of the classroom, the students of Class F were going in and out of the door at the front of the room.
Another hassle… Should I stop this or break it up? Unable to decide, I looked over at Yuigahama. It seemed she was also considering what to do.
How we advised them now would affect the relationships among the committee. No advantage seemed to be had here, whether we joined Sagami’s side or Haruka and Yukko’s side.
So then I guess a good plan would be to leave this stalemate and wait for time to run out…
I was about to give up, but there was one person here who would overturn the situation all on her own.
“Hey, I’m trying to get through here.” That was all Yumiko Miura said as she scattered the onlookers, striding briskly up to the three girls. Her loosely curled golden locks swaying, she surveyed the group with displeasure.
Sagami, Haruka, and Yukko all hesitantly retreated and took the opportunity to disperse.
The queen sallying forth will easily scatter the rank and file.
She had silenced both parties without any mediation or smoothing of matters.
Whoa, Miura…
Thanks to her, that morning’s incident came to a close.
But these hot coals wouldn’t cool off so easily. The embers would keep burning oh so slowly, and the moment the wind turned, they would flare up and burn us.
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