3.2
The electronics store was bustling with many students and school staff.
I had been watching the store’s situation from a step away.
The customers who had gathered for the 30-minute pre-opening lineup entered the store in advance and bought the featured products.
I wondered how many goods the general admission customers could buy. But strangely, I wasn't worried.
I was wondering whether there were any students who wanted a yogurt maker.
No, there mustn’t be.
That's why I shouldn't worry—was what I thought and entered the store late, but my hopes were shattered.
The yogurt maker mentioned in the announcement was already sold out.
I was confronted with the reality that someone had already bought it.
Seeing that, I was about to reach for the latest yogurt maker out of desperation, but the price was more than double that of the sale item, so I somehow managed to refrain from buying it and left the store.
Even now, students who successfully purchased their target items from the store were coming out with satisfied expressions.
“It's frustrating…”
Without any lies, I expressed my feelings at the moment.
It was my terrible mistake for not investigating the sales pattern during the sale.
Is this the end for a loser who failed to gather information?
On the way back, I went to the supermarket inside the mall. As if being guided, I was drawn into the store without grabbing a basket and went straight to the dairy products corner.
Numerous manufacturers sold milk and yogurt. Just moments ago, I would've been able to obtain the magical power that could turn this milk into yogurt.
I wanted to try it out. My desire was growing even stronger.
The distance between the milk carton and yogurt, which I always used to pick up casually, now seemed so far away.
But it wasn't just a matter of distance.
It was as if an invisible glass barrier was blocking me.
I couldn't help but wonder if this was how a young boy must have felt when he desired a trumpet placed on the other side of a showcase… but that was probably different.
As I stood there, other students continued to pick up milk and yogurt and make their purchases.
In my dorm room, I was just running out of yogurt.
But picking it up here would mean... admitting defeat, wouldn't it?
I tried to persuade myself to leave, but my feet wouldn't budge.
That was because—
The milk was unusually on sale today.
And the yogurt was also about 20 yen cheaper than usual.
If it weren't for the yogurt maker incident, I would've definitely bought some and taken it home.
As if under a spell, I was unable to move away from the dairy section.
“Eggs are also cheaper than they've been lately...”
Inflation and global affairs continued to increasingly drive up prices.
Although this school had its own unique rules, somewhat isolated from society, its essence didn't differ from the outside world.
Once I graduate, I’ll be faced with confronting these prices and consulting with my wallet every day.
Even though that fate wouldn't come for me, I could still think this way since I was technically an ordinary person right now.
I shouldn't have even considered coming to check things out.
Regardless, I couldn't continue standing here forever.
I made up my mind to forcibly leave, dragging my heavy feet with great effort.
“What happened? I've never seen you make such a dejected face before, Ayanokōji.”
“...Kiryūin-senpai.”
While I was getting ready to make my retreat, Kiryūin called out to me.
Strangely enough, the heaviness in my legs seemed to lighten, and I was able to effortlessly leave the spot.
After all, I had only come by to see the yogurt display, not with any other particular purpose in mind.
As I left the store empty-handed, Kiryūin followed behind me.
In the flow of the conversation, I explained the situation in detail to her.
I probably wanted someone to listen to me.
I wanted my regret of not being able to buy the yogurt maker to be understood.
Last night, I learned about the sale.
I rushed to the store when it opened, but I misunderstood the waiting line location.
As a result, others bought it before me, and I couldn't get it.
After hearing all these events, Kiryūin laughed as if it was amusing.
“You never cease to interest me, Ayanokōji. You're truly a special guy.”
“Really? I just consider myself to be an ordinary high school student.”
“That's a unique joke. Well, actually, it's partly true.”
After denying it, she reaffirmed it.
“I laughed because you acted so much like a normal high school student. Insisting on a yogurt maker is unusual, but it wouldn't be odd if you replaced it with another desired product.”
“I see...”
“But did you really want a yogurt maker that much? I think it would be much cheaper, tastier, and safer to buy yogurt from a store.”
Saying that, she looked back at the supermarket that was fading off into the distance.
“There's a purpose in making it yourself and eating it. I lost that chance.”
“You're passionate, even though you're expressionless.”
“Do you not cook?”
When I asked, Kiryūin nodded confidently without hesitation.
“When I was little, I tried to please my parents, but I haven't done it since.”
“Were the results bad?”
“No? It was an indescribable result. Not particularly delicious, nor bad. My parents seemed happy with the intention though. Usually, you would want to see their happy faces again, and improve your cooking.”
She didn't follow that standard path and abandoned cooking altogether.
“I usually just grab something from the convenience store or the school cafeteria. Even if I stop by the supermarket, I usually just buy ready-made dishes in the deli corner.”
Contrary to what I had thought, she didn't cook at all.
Surprisingly, the idea of her not cooking seemed right upon closer inspection.
“What about you? How did you come to love cooking?”
“Since I started high school. It was my first time living alone, and with being in Class D, there were times when the class points were exhausted.”
“You thought about saving money on food expenses by cooking, huh?”
“Even if free meals are available, it's a pain to eat them all year round. Plus, by cooking repeatedly, you can improve your skills and efficiency. I wanted to achieve the best cost-performance, and I recently started thinking about it.”
The yogurt maker held the potential for a new step up.
Not being able to get it made me feel regretful again.
“So? If you really wanted it, why not just buy it?”
“The price difference from the sale item was too high. It has various functions, but I only wanted to ferment milk, so I deemed it unnecessary.”
That would be playing into the store's hands by impulsively purchasing a high-priced product.
“Have you tried searching online?”
“No, not yet.”
“Before feeling down, try looking online. You might find it surprisingly cheap. I have some recommended websites.”
Taking out her cell phone, Kiryūin began typing.
We made sure not to obstruct the flow of traffic and stood at the edge of the aisle to browse through the products. Then, we found a yogurt maker at nearly the same price as today's special discounts.
“That's surprising.”
“It's not much of a sale. It's not just this school's electronics store that’s struggling with inventory management of the same models. It's common knowledge for young people these days.”
“I’m learning something new.”
“Why not buy it online?”
“I realize that I can buy it at the same price but found something else, so I've decided to search for something simpler, and buy it after returning to my room.”
Upon further examination, the yogurt maker on sale had more than enough functionality.
Moreover, an even more simplified version was available for a lower price.
“Anyway, do you need to buy anything, Kiryūin-senpai?”
“I just followed you because I was intrigued by your hunched-over back. I don't have any particular business at the supermarket.”
It seemed that she didn't have any errands over there.
“That's unusual—to go out of your way to approach me just because I'm interesting.”
Maybe she was really bored during the winter break.
“I know what you're thinking. But it's not because I'm bored that I'm sticking my nose into trivial matters.”
“It's still suspicious.”
When I conveyed my honest thoughts, she smiled bitterly and explained again.
“It's because it's you, Ayanokōji.”
“I’m not someone worth evaluating.”
“You know that it's pointless to be humble at this point. The scene of you confronting them on that uninhabited island is permanently engraved in my mind.”
The scene of the final showdown with Tsukishiro last summer on the beach. Kiryūin had been exchanging blows with Shiba, who appeared to be Tsukishiro's subordinate, in order to help me. It wasn't unreasonable for her to hold me in high regard due to the unusual circumstances and the physical aspect of the fight.
“That's why it's so disappointing.”
“Disappointing?”
Like a girl confessing her hidden feelings, Kiryūin let out a deep sigh.
“I often thought about it around that summer, like, if there was a system to repeat a grade in this school.”
“Repeating a grade?”
It was something that students who couldn’t graduate from Class A might’ve considered in desperation, but would quickly give up on. After all, this school didn’t recognize repeating a grade as an option in its rules.
“It's a ridiculous thought, right?”
“Without a doubt. Most students don't resist the established rules.”
Breaking the rules was something anyone could do. To fight and overturn them, to persuade, and change them—that’s what’s difficult.
“Even so, I wanted to consider staying for another year. If that was possible, I could’ve observed your journey closely for another year.”
“Looks like there are some students who think about such things. It's quite unusual.”
I thought about Kiryūin; it wouldn't be just a daydream in her head.
“Nothing’s unattainable with private points. Based on that logic, I even tried seeking confirmation from teachers, but the answer was no.”
“Let me ask you, what if someone prepared the total amount of 20 million points?”
If the school didn't acknowledge repeating years, the only thing that could overturn that would be paying an enormous price.
I was glad I asked, but it seemed like the answer could have already been seen in Kiryūin's expression.
“The largest purchase in this school is the right to move to any class. Unless you're a real oddball, you could get your dream position in your third year as long as you move to Class A just before graduating.”
“True. There's probably no purchase greater than that.”
Confirmation of getting to Class A was valued higher than the right to repeat a year would never change.
Who would willingly invest 20 million points in a high-risk repeat year?
“Why isn't a repeat year allowed even if someone prepared a huge amount of points? Isn't it strange? The rights to prevent expulsion, invalidate expulsion, or move classes are in the school's rulebook, but the repeat system is excluded from the start.”
That was certainly true. The value of private points, where nothing was unattainable, wasn’t an exaggeration. However, it was true that even within that, there were still things that couldn’t be bought.
As mentioned earlier, deliberately repeating a year wasn’t something students could judge as more valuable than moving to Class A.
However, since it wasn’t permitted, there must be a reason.
“Students who wish to repeat a year will have been enrolled in this school for over a year, so they’ll have a lot of knowledge about special exams and such. From an information standpoint, it might be deemed unfair to other classes.”
Information, huh?
It was certainly a possible argument, but sharing information could happen even without repeating.
Senpais could leave as much information for kōhais as possible in everyday life, and the advantage wouldn’t be significant.
Special exams would generally be different for students one grade ahead.
Even in written exams, the advantage might not prevail, and it was unlikely that it would have a significant impact overall.
“Perhaps it's because it could result in lowering the school's reputation?”
“Well? How so?”
“This school grants great privileges to those who graduate from Class A. Companies also accept and evaluate students who have graduated from that class, and deem them as outstanding. But wouldn't doubts arise about the school's value when a student who has repeated a year mixes in? For university admissions and job offers that can only be seen from the outside, they would see the fact that someone has graduated from Class A, but for some reason, repeated a year. You can even apply this to yourself. An oddball who has inefficiently failed to graduate from Class A and has repeated. While such a person has the ability, it becomes blurred for the employer. Evaluations become very difficult.”
The school would no longer want to send out such a student.
“So, not adopting the repeat system is to eliminate troublesome patterns?”
“If you're looking for a reason that makes sense, it would be this.”
It was a plausible argument.
“If I were to interview myself, I might hold off on hiring.”
It was self-deprecating humor that could only be said because of her confidence in her abilities.
“If you’re thinking about repeating on a whim, transfer to Nagumo's class, please.”
“I'm not interested in that.”
“What if you had 20 million points saved up from your own abilities?”
“Even then, I don't care. I'm fine graduating in any class.”
“For you, graduating in Class A or Class D doesn't make a big difference, but usually someone would think to make the best out of being able to graduate in Class A.”
As long as no one was unhappy, it would be better to transfer to Class A.
“Besides, after graduation, there’s a system that allows you to exchange private points for actual cash. That's what’s important to me.”
That amount, no matter how much, would be valuable funding for a student who has just graduated from high school.
Still, it couldn't be compared to the potential future benefits of graduating from Class A.
“Private points can grant most students' desires, but they can't grant everything. It could have that type of meaning as well.”
“That's true. You can't use them to fire the teachers you don't like, for example.”
With a sly grin, Kiryūin spoke dangerously.
“It's like you've tried it before.”
“Heh, I'll keep that as a no-comment.”
“So you really have no interest in Class A?”
“It's not that surprising. While it may be a curious situation, I don't think I'm the first. Besides, I thought you felt the same way, didn't you?”
Indeed, I wasn't very attached to graduating from Class A since I wouldn't receive the school's maximum support—their generous benefits upon graduation.
“True, you and I might not be that different. But even if there are other students like me who have no interest in Class A, there's still a huge difference with you, Kiryūin-senpai.”
“And that difference is?”
“Contribution to the class. Normally, people will move for the sake of their friends, even when it's unnecessary for them. An able person like you could’ve helped Class B and stood up against former Student Council President Nagumo. Even with differing personalities and ideas, your classmates must have relied on you more than once or twice.”
“Yeah...” Kiryūin affirmed as if it wasn't her concern.
“But for three years, up until now, you've only acted for yourself.”
“Maybe I’ve been contributing in my own way in secret? I just might not have been able to compete with Nagumo.”
“If you view yourself in your class—no, if you look at the entire third-year body, you'll understand. You only move for your own sake, but you don’t hold others back. That's why both enemies and allies perceive you as a non-existence.”
Pretty much invisible to both enemies and allies.
It wasn't easy to become this way, regardless of one's abilities.
“Even those who had voiced their resentment about my lack of cooperation stopped talking to me eventually.”
However, because her grades had been excellent, their disregard for her was unavoidable and forgiven.
She was highly rated by the school for both her academic and physical abilities, which meant she had been achieving solid results in written exams, athletic classes, and tournaments. She wasn't cutting corners in the visible areas like some of our classmates (me included).
“Can I ask you a question too?”
“Do you have something you want to ask?”
“That's a ridiculous question. I have countless things I want to ask. But even if I ask 10 or 20 questions, there's no guarantee that I'll only get the truth.”
She was aware of her limits and pointed out such a premise before voicing the question.
“Is it safe to assume that you've resolved the various problems you've been carrying?”
It was a vague question, but I didn't need to think too deeply to understand what she was talking about.
“Thanks to you, I'm living a peaceful life now.”
As I was doing now, I walked around this place as I always had.
“No matter how many times I look back, I can't forget your smooth movements from that day on the beach. It surpassed my expectations, imagination, and all conceivable human potential. Even if I told my ojii-sama, he wouldn’t believe it.”
“Your ojii-sama[1]?”
“Sorry, was that difficult to understand? I'm talking about my own grandfather.”
Kiryūin said, narrowing her eyes as if recalling her grandfather.
It was rare for someone to call their grandfather “ojii-sama,” from my perspective.
“That's an unusual way to call him.”
“Well, I come from a fairly privileged background. At home, I’m always addressed as ojou-sama[2].”
“Oh, so that’s what you meant? Well, no, I guess I can't completely disagree then.”
I always sensed something refined about her upbringing.
On the other hand, there was also a wildness to her, so I never had any concrete evidence.
“I spent more time living with my grandfather when I was young than with my busy parents. To put it simply, I was a total grandpa's girl.”
She smiled nostalgically, her eyes narrowing. It wasn't a face she could make if there were many unpleasant memories.
“When I found out I was going to this school, I was really down about not being able to see him for three years.”
“So your grandfather really doted on you, huh?”
“He used to say that he'd be glad to have me back if I ever dropped out like it was his catchphrase.”
That was a pretty cruel thing to say to a grandchild that was about to spread her wings.
It seemed like he wasn't an ordinary grandfather, just from that statement alone.
“But wouldn't he be shocked if you actually dropped out?”
“No, I'm sure he’d be genuinely happy. Besides, if I had decided to choose my own path, with just one word from my grandfather, I could've gone to most universities or companies.”
In other words, even without graduating from Class A, she could receive the same—or even greater—support from her grandfather. It seemed she had both power and affection at her disposal.
There was a guy in our class with a similar situation, though his way of thinking was different.
“By any chance, do you know Kōenji?”
“Kōenji? Why would his name suddenly come up?”
“The reason? Well, you see, that's...”
I noticed Kōenji walking towards us and tried to ask her about their relationship because of the conversation we were having.
“I don't think I have any connection to someone as eccentric as him.”
He was attracting the attention of the surrounding students, staring at him as if he was some strange creature.
He was carrying a large box with a famous brand's logo on it by himself. Judging by the unique shape of the cardboard box, I guessed that it was a large, flat-screen TV.
“Don't you know? Apparently, Kōenji is the son of a very famous businessman. Not only that, but his name has already been mentioned as the next president.”
“Is that so? Maybe that's the root of his eccentricity. But unfortunately, I don't know much about that. If he's that famous though, it wouldn't be surprising if my grandfather had some connections… Well, either way, it has nothing to do with me.”
It seemed Kiryūin didn't have much knowledge about the political or financial world. In that sense, I was grateful that she didn't find my somewhat unusual last name, 'Ayanokōji,' suspicious.
Even if she did recognize the name, it would be a stretch to link it directly to me. It wasn’t easy to think that a rare name meant the same lineage.
“Could it be that the underlying reason you're not interested in Class A is because of that?”
“No way. I chose to dive into this school because I was sick of being born into such a wealthy family. I have no intention of relying on them after graduation. The third years have already finished their class battles, so like everyone else in Class B and below, we're focusing on studying and job hunting.”
In other words, Kiryūin had a clear direction for her future.
And she apparently had no intention of receiving any favor from her family.
“Can I go ahead and ask what path you're planning to take, Kiryūin-senpai?”
“I'm going to enroll in college for now. If I can get in as a scholarship student, I can keep costs down. I'll work part-time to make up for the money I lack in daily life. It's not really anything worth mentioning.”
“Setting aside the scholarship part, you seem like a pretty normal student.”
“I want to be carefree, study hard, and become an adult all on my own. After that, maybe I'll work at a small or mid-sized company. It doesn't even have to be that big. I just want to live a life that has nothing to do with the Kiryūin name or status.”
Living a life that didn't stand out, wasn't tied down, and was simply free.
That was the strong will I sensed in Kiryūin's words.
“Not bad, huh?”
“Right? I don't need anything special. At least that's what I think for now.”
In a way, it was similar to my thoughts when I first entered this school. Whether my class rank went up or down didn't matter. I would continue living for my own freedom.
There was someone who stuck to that idea for three years right beside me.
“But a peaceful and flat life isn't easy to get, even if it seems easy now. After graduation, the name Kiryūin will follow me whether I like it or not.”
I didn't know anything about the Kiryūin family, but if it was a relatively famous one, then it was natural for them to have certain things set in place.
Even if someone like me could escape to this school out of rebelliousness, the end would still come when three years passed.
“Wouldn't your grandfather support your choices?”
“My grandfather isn’t really the issue. If anything, it would be my parents. Unlike my grandfather, they don't have a sense of humor. If they find out I'm leading a normal life, I can easily imagine their reaction.”
Listening to this, I felt like the situation was eerily similar to mine.
“I don't regret my actions the past three years… I've lived as I pleased.”
There was a slight hesitation in her voice as she declared her conviction.
“Nevertheless, I wanted to try to see myself choosing something other than just chasing freedom. That might be why I've been looking for ways to repeat a grade.”
If Kiryūin-senpai had lived her life to the fullest for three years, there was no doubt that she’d have been a threat to Nagumo’s Class A.
Living according to one's lineage may also be a difficult thing.
“The battle with Nagumo isn't over yet, right? What are you going to do about it?”
“I would like to resolve the matter as soon as possible, but right now, I don't have an answer.”
Everything depended on what the school decided. Whether there would be room for Nagumo and my battle was all up to luck.
And besides—
There were situations that wouldn't be realized regardless of whether we wanted them or not.
“I can't imagine you being careless or arrogant, but be careful during the third term.”
“Is that advice from my senpai?”
“It's not necessarily advice. Just the other day, I heard Nagumo talking on the phone with someone. He seems to be tirelessly gathering rumors about second-year students.”
Is Nagumo trying even harder than anyone else to make our battle a reality?
“The special exam you'll be taking next might be more troublesome than you think.”
“The school won't indirectly leak information, but it seems easy to guess the difficulty of the special exams based on past statistics. So, what was the special exam in the first term of the second year like?”
If there was a high probability of the same trend continuing, Nagumo must’ve been making inferences from the special exam last year.
“Well, in our year, Nagumo took control of everything and had all the authority. I'm just a Class B student living my daily life. I don't remember everything in detail.”
“I see.”
Indeed, it was rare for Kiryūin to participate in special exams.
However, the fact that she didn’t even remember some aspects made me a little suspicious.
“But during that special exam, one person did leave Class B.”
“Did they leave the school? As in dropping out?”
“That’s how I remember it. It was probably a necessary sacrifice, though it must be related to Nagumo's adjustments.”
The ideal victories and rewards that Nagumo had in mind.
If expulsion was an inevitable part of the special exam, then there would be some casualties.
If Kiryūin's story was true, perhaps there would be a hard start in the third term as well.
“Usually, it seems like it would be Class D or Class C being cut, right?”
“In any case, I don't remember anything about the other classes.”
She was probably less interested in other classes than in the TV news that was covered this morning.
Yet, for someone who claimed to remember nothing, some essential memories seemed to linger.
“I'm not saying it'll be the same as last year, though. There's no need to worry too much.”
“Your alleged ignorance isn’t really persuasive.”
In this situation, I didn't press deep, and just let it slide.
“Sorry to hold you up. It's not often that I get to talk with you about such trivial matters. It was a good opportunity.”
“No problem. I'm glad I got to talk to you too, Kiryūin-senpai.”
Kiryūin began to walk away, but quickly stopped and turned back.
“This is just my intuition, but I have a feeling that we'll meet again somewhere. Not at this school, but soon in the future.”
“Do your intuitions usually turn out to be true?”
“Usually, they have about 50% accuracy.”
That sounds like just a simple guess...
“But this time, I have more confidence. If forced to give a reason, it's because you're not just an ordinary high school student. If you don't disappear into society, you might catch my eye again.”
“Wouldn't it be better if that didn't happen? You’re supposed to want a normal life.”
“Hmm? Hahaha, that may be true.”
Kiryūin gently raised her hand and began walking out of the Keyaki Mall.
To meet again somewhere, huh?
That future would likely never come.
But if such a future existed—
No, I'll discard that thought.
There was no significance in such far-fetched fantasies.
Now, I was free to live my life in this moment.
That alone was enough.
[1]: “Ojii-sama” is a less common way of referring to someone's grandfather in comparison to “祖父 (sofu)” or “おじいさん (ojii-san)”.
[2]: “Ojou-sama” is a formal Japanese word for young, high-class lady.
*Both phrases are typically uncommon which is why Ayanokōji was confused.*
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