Thump, thump…
Akira stopped Shouko from walking straight into the teachers' office. He rapped politely on the wooden door, ignoring her puzzled look.
Inside, only three teachers were chatting. All of them knew Akira, so his action drew their attention immediately.
"Excuse us."
He released Shouko's hand, bowed lightly, and stepped in.
"E-Excuse us!" Shouko echoed, flustered as she followed.
Seeing the papers in their hands, Teacher Nobe quickly guessed. "Is this about the Art Club?"
"Mm." Akira nodded, letting Shouko stand beside him. "Teacher Nobe, we'd like to apply for the Art Club. We just need your signature here."
He stacked both forms and handed them over.
"What?"
Before she could respond, Mr. Sakai (PE) leaned over, unable to resist:
"Kid, did you really never consider the Track and Field Club?"
He'd discovered last semester that Akira jogged every morning, and his performance in PE was consistently sharp. For Sakai, who also happened to advise the Track and Field Club, this was a golden opportunity.
But Akira had never joined a club. Sakai assumed he wasn't interested—until now.
Teacher Nobe remained calm, reminding him gently: "Mr. Sakai, respect the students' choices."
Akira gave Sakai an apologetic smile. The man sighed but didn't press further, already plotting how to "accidentally" test the first-years in class soon.
Meanwhile, Teacher Nobe signed both forms with a flowing hand. "Drop these into the Art Club's mailbox later. After recruitment ends, someone will notify you."
Her eyes lingered on Akira a moment—he wasn't just promising because of his father's legacy in the arts, but also because of his steady grades and balanced character.
"If there's nothing else, head back. Class is about to start."
They thanked her and hurried back.
"How'd it go?" Atsuya Ayumi was perched in Shouko's chair, expectant.
"She signed without hesitation." Shouko's smile broke free as she showed the neat signature.
"That's great." Ayumi scooted aside to make space for her.
Akira sighed, settling into his seat. "Class Monitor, you worried too much. Parents already signed. There was no way she'd refuse."
"…Fair." Ayumi rubbed her temples with a sheepish grin.
Thump, thump.
"Class is starting, Ayumi. Go back," Shouko reminded as the others scrambled to their seats.
"Okay, okay. I'll come find you later." Ayumi pinched Shouko's cheek playfully before returning to her desk.
"Is this it?"
Akira and Shouko stood before a mailbox shaped like a cartoon cat.
"Mm… it should be." Akira hesitated.
"Then let's—"
"Yo."
A voice behind them cut in.
Turning, Akira recognized the drowsy upperclassman from yesterday's recruitment booth.
"Just hand them to me." The girl in the white beret reached out casually. "No need to bother with the mailbox. I'm the Art Club Leader."
She accepted their forms, then added: "If you're not in a rush, come by the Art Club now. Quick Q&A."
Akira glanced at Shouko. He didn't mind—Anohana was finished, and he could always call home.
She nodded. "Mm-hmm."
"Good. Let's go." The upperclassman turned, leading the way. Akira quickly phoned Miyamura Shizuka to explain.
"Upperclassman, are there many people in the Art Club?" Shouko asked along the path.
The girl counted on her fingers. "If you two join as regulars, that makes eight."
"Eh? That few?" Shouko blinked. Even Akira was surprised—at a school this large?
The leader shrugged. "That's just the five who actually come daily. I didn't count the once-a-week crowd."
"Including them?" Shoko pressed.
"Ten, give or take. I don't keep track." She waved it off with a smile that seemed a little too carefree.
Akira and Shouko exchanged a glance. Unreliable…
"We're here."
The walnut door creaked open.
The smell of turpentine and faint oolong tea drifted out. Light spilled across shelves stacked with clay pots. Students hunched over palettes, brows furrowed.
At the center stood a plaster Agrippa bust, its base splattered with years of stray paint. On the back wall, soft watercolor blossoms hung beside stark charcoal portraits, each nailed in place like a quiet battle of styles.
"How does it feel?" the upperclassman asked.
"It's great," Shouko whispered, eyes wide.
"Wait—" Akira began, but Shouko clamped a hand over his mouth before he could finish.
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