Chapter 58 - .

It was the day after our visit to the preschool. The end-of-day homeroom was over, and I was stretching a little. 

I was still somewhat tired from the day before. 

Physically speaking, it was nothing, but time spent too pointlessly can wear on you. 

Ultimately, all we had to show for the work of the day before was an estimate of the number of participants from the preschool; plus, we'd listened to their moderate requests. The update of the meeting's records did also count, I guess, but we hadn't had much of a meeting in the first place. 

As I thought about how that day would probably be more of the same, a particularly big yawn came out of me. I breathed out my feelings of melancholy with a great fwahhh. 

As I was wiping off the tears that had formed, Totsuka was putting his hand on the sliding door, and our eyes met. It seemed he'd seen my yawn. 

Totsuka retraced his steps back to my seat, and then with a lightly closed hand, he covered his mouth and giggled in amusement. If he's gonna smile at me like that, I'm gonna quite amusingly lose it. 

"You seem kind of tired," he said to me, maybe because of my enormous yawn just now. 

It was true that I was a little tired, but I couldn't possibly brag about being tired in front of Totsuka. Playing up how tired you are is just as obnoxious as playing up how drunk you are. Why do guys think that'll get you girls? It actually makes you look dumb. In fact, I think from now on, you'll have better luck playing up that you don't drink. 

Based on the above, right now I think playing up how not tired I am will be effective on Totsuka! 

"I'm always like this," I said jokingly, and Totsuka smiled back at me. 

"Now that you mention it, I guess so." 

I'd been sighing so much, but now not a single one would come out. It felt like I would breathe a pink sigh instead. Does Totsuka's laughter have an effect like 1/f fluctuation? By the way, I think that f stands for fairy… 

As the negative ions generated by Totsuka's smile worked their placebo effect on me, Totsuka tugged his tennis bag up on his shoulder. 

"You have your club now?" I asked. 

"Yeah! You too, right, Hachiman?" 

"…Yeah." 

"…?" My strange pause made Totsuka tilt his head slightly. 

To cover for that, I made an effort to sound cheerful as I said, "Well, do your best at your club." 

"You too, Hachiman. Do your best." 

"Yeah." 

Totsuka did a tiny wave in front of his chest and left the classroom. I watched him leave with a smile on my face. But even after he'd disappeared into the hallway, I didn't feel like getting up yet. 

Leaning into the back of my chair, I looked up at the ceiling. 

And then in my periphery, I spotted Yuigahama. 

She was fidgeting as she looked over at me from a distance. It seemed she'd been waiting for the moment when we would finish talking. 

Sitting up again, I showed her implicitly that she could come over, and she approached with slightly awkward steps. 

Standing across from me, she examined my face with unease. "…Are you coming to club today?" she asked. 

I didn't know how to answer. 

Had my leaving early the other day made her worry? Seeing her face, I couldn't bring myself to say I wasn't. Don't look at me with those puppy dog eyes… I get it; I'll go. "Yeah. Let's get going…" 

"Roger! Then I'll go get my bag," she said and went back to her seat. I left the classroom before her and decided to wait for her in the hallway to the special-use building. 

I spent my time in the empty hallway thinking about the approaching club time and work on the event that would follow. 

There still wasn't a lot of work to do yet. 

But thinking about the plans down the line, it was an undeniable fact that we wouldn't have enough time. In order to secure the time to do the work, we might need to move the meeting time up. 

Which meant that at some point, they'd probably have to tell me to skip out of the club. 

But I didn't want to skip out, if possible. It'd probably be best not to let it prevent me from attending the club. Ultimately, I'd just have to do as I had the other day, leaving early and spending less time there. 

While I was thinking, there was the soft impact of a bmfff at my waist. Ow, what is that…? I thought, turning around to see Yuigahama standing there, looking grumpy. It seemed she'd lightly thumped me with the bag in her hands. 

"Why'd you go without me again?" 

"Like I said before, I did wait…" 

While walking down the hallway to the clubroom, we repeated the exchange we'd had the other day. It was the usual reiteration, preestablished harmony. I took it for granted, since that time was about to begin again. 

If there was anything at all different, I suppose it would be the fact that matters had been divided into the time before Isshiki's request and the time after it. I'd warn Yuigahama in advance that I'd be leaving before I normally would again. 

"…Oh, I might head out early today. And, well, it'll be sort of like that for a while, I guess," I said. 

Yuigahama nodded, then said, "Helping Iroha-chan?" 

Her question startled me. "…You knew?" 

"Obviously, seeing the way you've been acting." She added a laugh to cover the awkwardness of the moment. 

Well, since I'd been leaving the club all alone and then looking tired in class, I guess she'd infer something was going on, at least. I was frustrated with my own thoughtlessness. If Yuigahama could figure it out, then it wouldn't be strange for someone else to have noticed, too. 

"Yukinoshita, too?" I asked, and Yuigahama's gaze turned out the window. 

"Hmm…I don't know. We don't talk about you." 

I couldn't guess Yuigahama's expression. But it seemed to me that her quiet tone was a preclusion on any further questions. Her answer, vague and incomplete, was an embodiment of our situation. I feel as if we were constantly trying to avoid saying anything decisive. 

After that, we didn't say a word as we walked through the empty hallway. 

All that sounded was our footsteps. 

As usual, Yuigahama was looking outside. 

That prompted me to look over to the windows on the opposite side. 

At this time of year, winter solstice was approaching. The sun had descended quite a bit, even though it was early in the day, and the special-use building felt even darker than before. It had never gotten much sun to begin with. 

When we entered a shadow, Yuigahama muttered, "…Are you gonna go at it alone again?" 

Though it was dim around her, I could see her face clearly. Her eyes were sadly lowered, and she was biting her lip weakly. Even though I'd done what I did to keep her from making a face like that. 

In an attempt to shake off the constricting feeling in my chest, I walked faster. "I'm just doing this because there's something that needs to be done. You don't have to worry about it." 

"I am worrying…," Yuigahama said with a troubled smile. 

Seeing that smile, the question from that time reared its head. 

I wasn't wrong, was I? 

The answer to the question I'd been asking myself continuously since then had emerged a long time ago. 

I was wrong. I'm sure of it. 

The days since the student council election spoke of that vividly. Yuigahama's sad smile showed it to me. The resignation in Yukinoshita's eyes made it impossible to ignore. 

That was why I had to take responsibility for it. You should embrace the consequences of your own actions, obviously. 

I couldn't rely on other people to correct my own mistakes. How could I cause even more trouble for others? It seemed to me that if I relied on someone and then made another mistake, then forcing them to make an effort and then wasting it would be the greatest betrayal of their trust. 

In order to avoid making any further mistakes, I considered what I should do, based on righteous rules and principles. 

For now, I had to avoid causing Yuigahama any undue concern. 

"There are other things you should be worried about besides me, aren't there?" I exhaled a small breath, then relaxed my mouth in a smile. I was changing the topic, knowing it was cowardly. 

"Yeah…," Yuigahama replied, voice faint and eyes lowered. 

As we walked down the hallway of the special-use building, our feet became gradually heavier. It was like we were walking through tar. 

Making our way along far slower than usual, finally, we saw the door of the clubroom. 

Was the room already unlocked? She was the only one with the key, and we had never even touched it. 

Suddenly, Yuigahama's feet stopped. I stopped with her. She was looking at the clubroom. 

"Maybe Yukinon wanted to be student council president…" 

"…I don't know." 

There was no way to confirm now. Considering Yukinoshita's personality, even if I asked her, she probably wouldn't answer honestly. I doubted she'd say now what she hadn't then. I also had no interest in trying to ask something she'd probably never answer. No, I probably didn't want her to answer. 

I think, at least superficially, neither she nor I will ever mourn a past that can never be regained. It would have been so much easier if she would have just berated me. 

But Yuigahama was the one person who would bring up the past that neither I nor Yukinoshita would mention—and not in the weaksounding tone she'd used before, but in a voice with clear determination. "…I really think we should've accepted that request as a club." 

When Isshiki had come to talk to us, Yuigahama had said the same thing. At the time, I hadn't asked her why, but since she was bringing it up again, she must have some appropriate rationale for it. When I looked her in the eye, Yuigahama communicated that clearly. 

"I think Yukinon would've ended up accepting the request before." 

"What makes you think that?" 

"'Cause I think it's like her to try to overcome things. It's sorta… I don't know, she'd use the fact that she couldn't become president as a reason to grapple with something even bigger, you know…" She spoke with both passion and hesitation, as if considering and making sure of each and every word. 

Maybe that was why I found myself staring at her. Those clumsy but warm words were very much like her. 

Yuigahama trailed off—maybe because I was facing her directly. Then she continued, sounding less confident. "That's why I thought this might be a good little push…" 

"Oh…" 

What's lost will not return. 

If you want to make up for it, you need something even greater. 

There's what was lost itself and the damage caused by the loss. You have to make up for both of those things. That's what atonement is. 

If Yukinoshita was the person I'd thought she was, then surely she would make up for her own actions herself. Maybe Yuigahama's idea wasn't wrong. 

Yuigahama had thought it through this much. She acknowledged that a request connected to student council might be painful to Yukinoshita, and yet she'd thought that maybe, it was worth trying. 

Then what about me? 

Hadn't I made this decision to keep this space from deteriorating even further, from becoming even more empty than it already was? I was doing this to protect myself, to satisfy my own feelings, and she was confronting me with the fact. I couldn't help but look away from Yuigahama. 

"…Well, maybe it would have been before… Now I don't know." 

"Yeah…," Yuigahama replied in a subdued tone. She'd probably also realized the odds were not great. 

When Isshiki had come to the clubroom, Yukinoshita's attitude had been different from the last time. 

It had seemed as if she'd lost her fixation on requests and consultations. 

She was probably on the other side of this door right now, sitting there quietly just like before, as if she'd given up on something and forgotten it. 

I finally put my hand on the sliding door of the clubroom, after taking far more time than usual to arrive. 

Opening the door, I went in first, and Yuigahama followed after. 

"Yahallo!" Yuigahama greeted with particular cheer. 

Yukinoshita, sitting by the window, looked over at us. "Hello." 

"…'Sup." Returning her greeting, I sat down in my chair, which was not going to move again. 

Looking over at Yukinoshita, I saw nothing about her that was different from the day before. If there was anything, it was just that her stack of finished books was one volume higher. Like the futile stone towers children build in the river of purgatory. 

Yuigahama must have been checking her text messages or something, as her thumbs were darting around. I was about to pull a paperback out of my bag, as per usual, but suddenly my hand stopped. 

Before we idled away this frozen time, there was something I should say to Yukinoshita. I'd already told Yuigahama, but I had to say I'd be leaving the club early for a while from now on. 

"Hey, can I say something?" 

When I addressed her, Yukinoshita's shoulders twitched. I hadn't meant to speak that loudly, but the echo was greater than I'd expected in the quiet room. Yuigahama stood up straight, too, and turned her gaze to me. 

Yukinoshita looked at me, still for a while. Then, as if reconsidering suddenly, she closed her book and opened her mouth. "…What is it?" 

Her composed voice and intellectual gaze were directed at me. I'm sure my expression was similar. 

"Can I leave early for a while?" I said. 

Yukinoshita blinked two, three times. Then she put her hand to her jaw in a considering gesture. "Well, it's not as if we're particularly busy…" I waited for her to continue, but she never did. 

"Well, um, you know… I've got lots of stuff going on… And Komachi has her entrance exams coming up." That reason I'd offered was not completely made-up. But even so, I couldn't say the full truth. I think there are things you should be allowed to leave unsaid and unknown. 

"…I see." Yukinoshita gently stroked the cover of the paperback in her hands. It seemed she was still considering something, and even if I waited, it would take some time to get a clear conclusion back from her. 

Yuigahama had been watching this happen and took over the discussion. "…But maybe that's best, huh, since there isn't much we can do for Komachi-chan. So then let's have Hikki make up for us with his effort! Right, Yukinon?" Yuigahama leaned onto her desk, and when she turned to Yukinoshita, she responded with a faint smile. 

"…Yes, you're right." 

"…Sorry," I said, scratching my head unconsciously, and Yukinoshita gave a small shake of her head as if to say, Don't worry about it. And then the room regained its deathly silence. 

As if attempting to fill that silence, Yuigahama added, "Oh, I know. I'll text Komachi-chan." Yuigahama must have gone straight to carrying out that idea as soon as it was out of her mouth, as she started to tap out a message. 

Once again, I was reminded of just how Yuigahama had been supporting this atmosphere the whole time. All by herself, she'd been keeping these crumbling relationships intact. 

Our exchanges were trivial, nothing out of the ordinary. I think depending on one's outlook, this was a completely amiable time we spent together. 

I thought of a world where we reached conclusions via negotiation and management. Where we discussed issues properly until we all agreed, suggested answers that would convince everyone, and established it as the collective will— Was this correct? I swallowed such questions. 

The breath that came out instead was unpleasantly hot, and it dried out my throat horribly. I found myself looking at the tea set we were no longer using. 

4: That's why Saika Totsuka feels admiration. 

After I made it through our time in the clubroom, I headed to the community center and switched my brain to work mode. I waited by the entrance for a while for Isshiki to arrive, but she never showed up, even once it was the usual time. 

Maybe she'd gone in without me earlier. I decided to give up on waiting for her and head into the lecture room. 

The community center felt quieter than usual. It seemed that usual dance or whatever club activity wasn't happening that day, but I could hear voices coming from the lecture room we used. 

When I opened the rather loud sliding door and went inside, I found most of those voices were from Kaihin High School. Comparatively, there wasn't much conversation from the Soubu kids. 

"'Sup," I called out, and after setting my bag down, I suddenly noticed something. Isshiki, who I'd assumed would have arrived before I did, was not there. "Where's Isshiki?" I asked. 

The vice president, sitting nearby, appeared surprised. "She isn't here yet… You didn't come together?" 

When I shook my head in response, the vice president asked the other members of the student council, "Has anyone heard anything?" 

"Sorry, I tried texting her…," said one girl. I assumed she was a firstyear, judging from the respectful manner in which she spoke to the vice president. She was probably their clerk or treasurer or something like that. She had glasses and a braid and wore her uniform precisely to school regulations. She seemed like the quiet type. Kind of timid, too. 

She was a first-year like Isshiki, but it didn't seem they were close. I'd never really seen them talking to each other, and even now, the girl was only texting instead of calling. I guess there's a boundary line somewhere between those two methods of communication. It's so complicated… 

That girl gave me and the vice president a cautious glance as she muttered, "She might still be at her club." 

I realized it was very possible. Before Isshiki had become student council president, she'd been the manager of the soccer club—and she still was. 

If Isshiki was still showing up at her club, like I was, then she might not have been able to check her phone. It'd probably be faster to contact her in person. 

"I'll go get her," I volunteered. 

"O-oh, thanks," said the vice president. 

With that, I left the lecture room and went alone back down the road I'd just come. 

The school was only a few minutes away by bike; I'd get there in no time. I sailed along, hurrying to our school's sports field. 

The field wasn't all that big, and the baseball, soccer, rugby, and track clubs were all busy practicing there, as usual. 

Though the sun was going down, it was bright enough that you could still identify people. I stopped my bicycle beside the field, then headed over to where a bunch of the soccer club guys were hanging around. 

Watching from afar, I saw the soccer team was divided into two groups, probably having a scrimmage. Isshiki wasn't there, and another (cute) manager girl was there with a stopwatch and whistle in her hands. She tweeted the whistle. Then the guys all relaxed and strolled over to the school building, drinking from the bottles they'd left there. It seemed they were starting a break. 

Among them, I found Tobe. He noticed me, too, casually raising a hand and coming over. Hey, cut it out. If you do something like that, I'm gonna think we're friends or something. 

"Huh? It's Hikitani-kun. What's up?" He addressed me in a superfriendly manner. 

I don't know if he's just an idiot or what. Why is he being so chummy with me? I don't think he's a bad guy, so it's fine, though. 

Well, this worked out well. I'd ask Tobe. "Is Isshiki here?" 

"Irohasu? She's… Huh? She's not here, huh?" Tobe glanced around, looking for Isshiki, but when he realized she wasn't there, he called out loudly to Hayama a little ways away. "Hayato, you know where 

Irohasu is?" 

Hayama took a towel from the (cute) manager, and after using that to wipe off his sweat, he approached me and Tobe. Whoa, manager girls actually do hand you towels! If they did something like that to me, I'd sweat even more from nerves. 

"Iroha just left. Said she had some things to do," Hayama answered Tobe. 

Then Tobe looked at me. "There ya go, Hikitani." 

"Oh, okay. Thanks, sorry for the trouble. See you." It seemed we'd missed each other somewhere. What a waste of time. I grabbed the handlebars of my bicycle, figuring I'd go straight back. I thanked the two guys. 

"Oh, it's totally fine, no prob," Tobe said with a bright smile and a casual wave. 

Beside him, Hayama still wore a cool expression. "Tobe, divide the teams for the next scrimmage." 

"Huh? Oh, roger." Upon receiving that sudden instruction, Tobe trotted off to the field. It was almost like he was being shooed away. 

I couldn't stay, either. I pushed my bike along, meaning to go right back to the community center. 

But then someone called out to me from behind. "…Do you have a minute?" 

When I turned around, Hayama was still there. 

Hayama pulled off the towel hanging around his neck. Folding it lightly, he said, "Seems like it's rough going." 

I didn't really understand what he was referring to. With a tilt of my head, I asked what he meant. 

Inferring from my expression, Hayama smiled. "You've been doing a lot of work on the student council's request, haven't you? Thanks for helping out Iroha." 

"Oh, you knew?" I'd thought for sure Isshiki hadn't said anything to Hayama about this. 

He smiled wryly. "Yeah. She won't say what she's doing, but she does make it look like she's busy." 

I see. So it's a complex maiden circuit thing, where she doesn't want to cause him trouble, but she wants him to know what she's doing. I understand. Wait, no I don't. 

I also didn't understand Hayama's attitude. "If you know, then you help her out." Hayama had more of a relationship with Isshiki than I did. Isshiki had told me the reason she wouldn't rely on him, but I'd gotten the impression that if Hayama inferred she was busy, he'd at least offer to help. 

But Hayama gave a thin but genuine smile and said something unexpected. "She didn't exactly look to me for help. You're the one she's counting on." 

"She's just getting what she can out of me." 

"Because you can never refuse when someone asks for help." He said that kindly, almost appreciatively. However, as pleasant to the ears as that remark was, it also struck me as sarcastic. 

So I replied more harshly. "That's what my club does. There's no particular reason for me to refuse. And unlike you, I have nothing else to do." 

"Is that all?" 

"…What are you trying to say?" His question had sounded like a test, and it got on my nerves. 

Hayama didn't reply, and neither did his smile fade. I felt like the calls of the guys practicing were just as loud as he was quiet, but despite that, the noise seemed far away from where Hayama and I stood. 

The silence was painful, and I had to fill it. "…I mean, you don't refuse, even though it's not your club." 

"I don't know…" Hayama turned his face away and looked toward the western sky. 

The trailing clouds were beginning to tinge red. 

Hayama pursed his lips in thought before turning back to me. Though his face was lit by the setting sun, strangely, I felt no warmth in it. 

"…I'm not as good a person as you think I am," he said with distaste. His eyes glared at me with penetrating cold. I couldn't say a thing. 

Though he was quiet, his tone was severe. I felt as if I'd heard it before, at some point during summer vacation. Was this the look he had given me in the darkness of that night? 

I didn't respond, and Hayama didn't say anything more. 

Our gazes intersected, but I don't think there was any other point of contact between us. It was as if time stopped right there. Only the calls of the teams practicing continued without pause, the sole indication of the passage of time. 

One of those voices called, particularly loud. 

"Hayatoooo, we're starting again!" Tobe's yell made Hayama suddenly snap out of it. 

"Coming!" He replied to Tobe, who was farther down the field, then raised a casual hand at me and walked away. "See you, then…" 

"…Yeah, sorry for bothering you." Without watching Hayama go, I threw a leg over my bicycle. When I pushed off, I suddenly noticed my legs were tense. 

Hayato's attitude rubbed me the wrong way. It was like he was poking around for my true intentions, and I was uneasy that I'd overlooked something. Both feelings lurked in the pit of my stomach, making me feel sick. 

Something about his attitude didn't sit right with me. 

Just what was wrong about my perception of Hayato Hayama? 

I think he's a good guy. On the other hand, I also understand he's not an ordinary person. He will occasionally reveal a more callous side in the name of his goal—maintaining the friendships around him. That was who I'd thought Hayato Hayama was. 

But that smile had been a little different. That mild and gentle smile had looked perfect at a glance. But the perfection of that impenetrable mask made it cold and empty, hiding whatever lay far beneath it. 

I know I've seen something very much like that before. 

As I pedaled my bike, searching for the answer, I arrived at the community center. I stopped my bicycle and was about to go inside when Isshiki came out of the convenience store on the other side of the street. Her head sagged as she walked, and her stride was particularly slow. 

"Isshiki," I called out to her, and she looked up. 

When she noticed me, with rustling convenience store bags in both her hands, she breathed a little sigh, then grinned. "Oh, sorry. Did I make you wait a little?" 

"Wait? I actually went to look for you." 

"Isn't that where you're supposed to say, I wasn't waiting at all, I just got here…?" Isshiki pouted sullenly, and without a word, I reached out to her. She looked at my hand and huffed into a smile. Almost like a tiny sigh. "…They're not particularly heavy today." 

"Is that right?" 

"Yep," she replied briefly. It was true the bags didn't seem all that heavy. But her arms carrying them actually looked more burdened than usual. "We're late, so let's hurry," she said. She went into the community center, and I followed. 

From behind, her shoulders appeared more slumped than usual, and her back was a little hunched. 

Ugh, her motivation's drying up, huh…? She comes off as bold, but she's surprisingly weak. 

That was understandable. The event itself and the internal affairs of the student council were not going well, so she had to be fed up. It was a fairly heavy situation for a first-year. 

But my own actions were one of the factors that had trapped her in this sort of environment. There wasn't much I could do to help, but still, I would support her as best I could. 

For the time being, all I could do was carry her convenience store bags, though. 

If you spend more time on something, will you get more out of it? 

I think that question may be an eternal challenge for people who create things. 

Very often, you'll be thinking, I still have time, I'm still good, I think it's almost done… And then before you know it, it's all fallen apart. The more time you have, the more you can slack off, get lazy, and underestimate the task. That's how humans are. You think it's that easy? What are you talking about?! This is just carelessness! 

And right now, the situation had gotten pretty bad while we were telling ourselves, We can still save it! We can still save it! We'll just corporate slave it! 

As proposed by Kaihin High School previously, starting that day, some elementary school kids from a nearby school would be joining us. Despite not a single concrete decision having been made, the scale had grown. 

"From here on out, let's decide things together! I want everyone to make lots of suggestions!" Tamanawa greeted the elementary schoolers with enthusiasm and nothing else. 

The kids answered back with their formal greeting in unison, fully matching the energy in his voice. 

Of course, we couldn't have every kid in the school participating, so the elementary school had selected some children to come—I guess you could call them a kids' council. There were about ten of them. 

And I saw a familiar face among them. 

She looked a little more mature than the other kids, so I recognized her at a glance. She had long, glossy black hair and a somehow chilly air to her. 

Rumi Tsurumi was alone, as she had been during summer vacation. 

As I was watching her, she must have noticed me as well, because her eyes widened. But then she averted her gaze, looking at the floor instead. 

There was such a difference between that gesture of hers and the excitement of the other children, it reminded me of what I'd done to her. 

In Chiba Village during summer vacation, at their summer camp, I'd destroyed the relationships that surrounded Rumi Tsurumi—while pushing Hayama and his friends to act as the bad guys. 

The results of that were now right in front of me. 

I don't know if that was right or not. And as for whether the results helped her, only she could be the judge. 

"Hey, what's wrong?" 

Turning toward the voice, I saw Isshiki giving me a confused look. 

"…It's nothing," I replied briefly, looking back at the kids again. 

I didn't see any of the other children from that field trip group here. So that meant I didn't know what was happening in Rumi's social life now. I could mull it over all I wanted, but it would never leave the realm of speculation. So I stopped. 

There were other things I should be thinking about now. Like first, how to deal with these kids. They were here, but it wasn't as if any particular role had been given to them. A teacher from their school had come with them just in case, supposedly as supervision, but it seemed they intended to leave the course of action to us big kids. After exchanging a few remarks with Tamanawa and his crowd at the beginning, the teacher immediately backed off. 

And as for Tamanawa, once he had concluded his introductory remarks, he came over to us with a cheery smile on his face. "Well then, can I count on you to handle them?" 

You're gonna invite 'em over and then dump 'em, huh…? Nothing had been decided yet, so all we could do was chitchat. What's more, the kids couldn't be kept there very late, so our operational hours would be limited. Frankly, it didn't seem like there was much point in having them there. 

"…Hmm…" Unsurprisingly, Isshiki's response to Tamanawa's request was a complicated expression. 

But now that he'd approached her with this, it was too late for her to tell him we didn't need them after all. I don't know what Tamanawa had said when they were negotiating, but since we'd left that to Kaihin, then we would owe them. Our failure to shoot down the idea during the brainstorming was another painful point. 

If we were to quarrel over this now, it would negatively affect the reputations of both our schools and the elementary school, as well as every institution that had agreed to this project. We'd already reached a deadlock, and if we were to quarrel any more, we'd be even more dead and locked. 

Make one side happy, and you irritate the other… This is beyond damned if you do, damned if you don't! It's pamyu if you do, pamyu if you don't! Pon pon way! 

We were wondering what the heck to do here, but that was even more true for the kids. We'd brought them over, but they didn't know what they were supposed to do, and so they'd all gathered in a clump. 

All except for one. 

I didn't even have to check to know it was Rumi. 

As the other kids were discussing things in a hushed manner, she did not enter their circle. 

The kids glanced over at us, then started whispering in one another's ears. 

"Should we go ask what we should do?" 

"Who?" 

"Rock-paper-scissors?" 

"Sure, but…how many rounds?" 

"Wait. Are we going on 'shoot'?" 

At some point during the discussion, the kids seemed to have forgotten this was supposed to be a secret, and their voices got louder and louder until we could hear them, too. 

Yeah, that's a thing, the culture of trying to decide everything via rock-paper-scissors. It's like those overcompetitive types who try to settle everything via some kind of match. And then when some loner wins, they'll be like, Then the winner has to go do it! Then make it majority rule to begin with! Then you'll be braced for it. Poor elementary-school me. 

Well, never mind me. As I was watching, wondering about modern elementary school culture, something surprising happened. 

"…I'll go," Rumi said with a glance at them—she must have been listening in from the side. She didn't seem particularly eager about it, and perhaps her calm attitude seemed imposing to the other kids. Apparently overwhelmed, the kids sent Rumi off with some timid remarks. 

"Oh, okay…" 

"Thanks…" 

Rumi didn't really respond to their feeble send-off as she walked up to us. Unsurprisingly, she must have felt hesitant about talking to me, as she addressed the nearby vice president instead. "What should we do?" 

Rumi was quite composed for her age, while the vice president was flustered instead. "U-um…" Worried about how he should answer, he looked over to me. "What should they do?" 

"Don't ask me…" 

"Oh, sorry." So the vice president looked over at Isshiki. Indeed, if you considered the chain of command, he should be checking with 

Isshiki first. 

She was with Tamanawa, so I called, "Isshiki!" and summoned her over. She casually let Tamanawa know she was leaving, then trotted back to us. 

"What are we gonna tell the kids to do?" I asked. 

Isshiki folded her arms loosely and tilted her head. "Ummm, but nothing has been decided, huh…? I guess it'd be a good idea to check with them?" 

"Uh…" With the way the Kaihin guys had been acting, I got the feeling there was no use asking. Since they'd left the kids to us, we had to think up something. "I guess something that won't get in our way, but also that needs to get done. They can do things like decorating, or like putting together a tree, right? So going out to buy materials, then making stuff, I guess…" 

"…Yeah. Then, let's do that," Isshiki said with a nod. I went to explain that to the kids, Rumi included. 

This was a good enough task for the time being, but we had to think about the future, too. We didn't even know what we ourselves should be doing, and now we had even more to think about. We urgently had to solidify a structure for this event, or else we'd wind up spending this time as a disorganized crowd sitting around. 

I left dealing with the kids to Isshiki and the others, and I walked over to Tamanawa. This was really something Isshiki should be doing, but compatibility is a genuine issue when it comes to interpersonal interaction. Isshiki must have felt she had to hold back because she was younger, so she couldn't assert herself with Tamanawa. So that was where I should help her out. 

I approached him where he was chatting with his friends and lightly cleared my throat. Noticing my presence, he turned around. "What is it?" he asked with a bright smile. 

I'm not really good at dealing with guys like him. At a glance, he gives off this "good guy" aura, and I can't help but be reminded of another guy I know. I was feeling overly conscious of this, and it made me speak somewhat awkwardly. "Well, even now that we have more people, we're not gonna get anywhere unless we decide what the event will be…" 

"Then let's all consider it together." His answer came back to me almost instantaneously, leaving me speechless. 

"Together…? If you're just gonna have those vague discussions, it'll never get decided. First, we have to choose what to do, then consider—" 

"But then wouldn't that narrow our outlook? I think we should explore a way we can resolve things together." Tamanawa cut me off without waiting for me to finish speaking. 

But if I were to back down now, we'd only get a repeat of before. So I tried again, a counterargument from a different angle. "Uh, but we don't have time…" 

"That's right; we have to consider what to do about that together, too." 

This discussion was like a meeting about reducing overtime hours…running late and making everyone do overtime. I scratched my head roughly, thinking about how I could phrase things to get my point across, but Tamanawa must have taken that as impatience. He put on a particularly kind smile. 

"I understand you're impatient, but we'll work hard to support one another." In a bit of a melodramatic gesture, he patted me encouragingly on the shoulder. My shoulders hadn't really been tense, but they slumped slightly. 

It seemed nothing I said would work. 

I'm repeating myself here, but compatibility is a genuine issue when it comes to interpersonal interaction. And in that area, the compatibility between me and Tamanawa was the worst. And it was probably not all Tamanawa's fault. 

It's true that often you can create excellent results through the wisdom of the crowd, incorporating the opinions and points of view of many people. Maybe that's simply not the way I do things. 

To work together with others and rely on them often means expending more time to do it. I don't have much experience with that, so I suspect I won't really understand the way Tamanawa does things. 

I've made many mistakes. Maybe I was wrong this time, too. 

"…Fine. But then you should have that meeting already," I said, smothering my doubts. 

"So then let's get it started." Tamanawa ended his discussion with me, called out to the Kaihin students, and began the meeting. 

In the meeting that day, we discussed the event in more specifics. "I think with the brainstorming we've done before, we managed to share the grand design with one another, so at this point in time, let's do a deep dive into the creative aspects of the event." From his moderator-like position, Tamanawa gave his overly long statement. 

Everyone nodded in response. 

The students from Soubu were also participating in the meeting, though we'd left behind one person to supervise the kids making decorations. 

Would starting with a discussion of content specifics finally mean some progress with this meeting? 

Confirming there was no opposition to his proposal, Tamanawa addressed the room in a calm tone. "We're starting from scratch here, so feel free to express all your ideas, everyone." Then some ideas popped up from the Kaihin side. 

"Something Christmassy would be good, right?" 

"I think traditional elements will be essential." 

"But they expect something high schoolers would do, yes?" 

And yet again, the discussion was tending further and further toward abstract ideas. This is bad… At this rate, it won't be any different from the brainstorming the other day. 

Even Tamanawa seemed to understand that, as he nodded and said to everyone, "Something that evokes Christmas and also feels like us. What sort of thing, for example?" 

And then, like a word association game, ideas popped up. 

"I feel like for regional events, a classical Christmas concert is fairly standard." 

"But wouldn't it be best to include something youth-minded? A band, for example." 

"Wouldn't jazz be more like Christmas?" 

"So then a choir instead. And we borrow a pipe organ." 

The Kaihin students seemed plenty motivated and proactively made suggestions. Whenever someone put forth an idea, someone else brought up another that expanded on that possibility further. 

An orchestra, a jazz concert, a choir, dance, theater, gospel, a musical, a dramatic reading, etc.… 

Since my job was to make a record of the meeting, I scribbled down the ideas that came up. 

This was going in a decent enough direction, almost as if the snags in the previous meetings had never happened. 

Before I knew it, the Soubu student council members were also raising their hands to propose their own ideas. In the earlier sessions, the mood had made it hard for them to talk, so they hadn't taken the initiative to speak. 

I continued taking notes for a while. 

We'd probably exhausted nearly every concept we could think of. When I looked over what I'd listed again, I felt like I could see hope, even if just a bit. At this rate, maybe we would decide on what we were going to do within the day. 

However, a moment later, Tamanawa said something fearsome. 

"Good, let's consider all of these ideas." 

Are you kidding? Is this some kind of Chibalian joke? I thought, looking at Tamanawa, but he seemed incredibly sincere. In fact, he had a sunny smile on his face as if he were enjoying how things were going. 

…By all of these ideas, does he mean every single one that's been brought up so far? He's telling us to consider every single one to see if it's viable? 

In my opinion, we really didn't have much time. We only had just over a week until the Christmas event. Whatever we were going to do, considering we needed to devote time to training, practicing, and coordinating with the relevant parties, we had to start preparing right away. 

"Wouldn't it be faster to pick one idea now?" I asked, unable to take it anymore. 

Tamanawa closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. "Rather than rejecting ideas immediately, we should take in all suggestions to make something that will satisfy everyone." 

"Uh, but, like…" I tried to argue, but Tamanawa would not back down. 

"Some of them are systematically similar," he said, "so I think we can afford to do it together." 

He was right that exploring compromises between suggestions would be one way of doing this. But was it the best way? 

I was getting an awful feeling like something was out of place, a scraping at the inside of my stomach. 

But before I could think of a further argument, the discussion had moved on without me. 

After that, the meeting took a turn. 

"How about we consolidate the musical ideas to make a Christmas concert of various genres?" 

"If we're considering this from a consolidation viewpoint, then music and musicals are highly compatible." 

"Why not do everything and make it into a movie?" 

It seemed the Kaihin students were, as Tamanawa had proposed, exploring compromises. The majority of the discussion shifted to how to actualize all the ideas. 

There's nothing wrong with bringing up suggestions. Anything that creates energy in a meeting should be welcomed. I also wasn't really against choosing the brainstorm format in order to bring out as many ideas as possible. 

But with the way Tamanawa conducted these meetings, I could see no conclusion. He wouldn't reject anyone's ideas. 

I'd thought this meeting was starting to come together, but the way the wind was blowing now, I was skeptical of its success. Before I knew it, my hands had stopped recording. My arm dangled beneath the desk as I watched the meeting in silence. 

Those actively discussing wore completely different expressions from me. They all had bright, lively smiles on their faces. 

That was when I realized. 

They were enjoying themselves right now. In fact, they were enjoying this exchange. 

What they wanted was not particularly the volunteer effort in itself—they just wanted to feel good about themselves for doing this kind of work. 

They didn't want to do work. They wanted to bask in the feeling of doing work. They had the impression that they were accomplishing something. 

And in the end, they'd think they'd done a hard day's work, but it would all be for nothing. 

Ahhh, it's exactly like a certain someone. It's like I'm having my past mistakes shoved in my face, and it really pisses me off. 

You believe you've accomplished something when you haven't done squat; you don't see anything. 

In the end, we took the whole meeting not to come to a conclusion, and the rest was put off until the next day. 

We decided we would wrap up the meeting for now, while each of us would explore the feasibility of the ideas on our own. We'd discuss it again as a group later. 

The elementary school kids had left quite a while ago. Those of us who remained got our things together and then left in turn. 

Parting ways with Isshiki and the student council, I was pedaling away from the community center on my bicycle, when I suddenly realized something. 

I'm hungry… Since I'd been zoning out, I'd forgotten to eat any snacks during the meeting. 

If I went home, there would be dinner, but now that I was aware of my hunger, home was too far away. I guess I could have a quick bite somewhere… I stopped my bicycle for a moment and sent Komachi a brief text like a telegram: Don't need dinner tonight. 

Then, calculating based on my current location and the state of my stomach, I considered the optimal meal. They say hunger is the greatest spice, but that's wrong. I think the greatest spice is when someone else pays for your meal. But, well, I was alone, so it wasn't as if anyone would pay for me. So I had to take into account the state of my own wallet, too. 

So…ramen, I guess. 

Once I had decided, I was quick to act. 

Humming Raa, ra, ra-ra, ra, ramen like Nausicaa, I cheerfully raced my bicycle down the road. 

Crossing an overpass, I reached Inage Station. When you pass the roundabout in front of the station, you come out into a commercial district with various restaurants, an arcade, a bowling alley, and karaoke places all in a row. Turning left at the intersection beyond that and going a bit farther, I'd arrived at my goal. 

At the intersection, I waited for the light to turn from red to green. 

There, I caught sight of someone unexpected. 

He wore a windbreaker over a Soubu gym uniform with a fluffy scarf around his neck—it was Totsuka. 

He must have noticed me, too, as he hefted up the tennis bag on his back as if it were a little heavy and waved at me. When the light turned, he looked right, then left, and ran up to me. 

"Hachiman!" Totsuka puffed white breath as he called my name. 

Though I was surprised by the coincidence of running into him in the middle of town, I casually raised a hand in response. "Yo." 

"Yeah. Yo." Totsuka must have felt shy about making such a flippant greeting, as he raised his hand a little with a bashful smile. 

Ahhh, this is so soothing… 

It wasn't often I got the chance to meet Totsuka outside of school. Or rather, that's because I don't go outside much. But when something like this happens, I find myself thinking maybe magic and miracles are real. 

But, well, they aren't; that's just the world we live in. Why was Totsuka here? 

"What're you doing in a place like this?" I asked, and Totsuka tugged up his tennis bag and showed it to me. 

"I'm on my way back from tennis classes." 

Oh yeah, aside from the tennis club, Totsuka takes extracurriculars, too. Is that school close to here? …Okay, from now on, I'll make sure to be around here for no reason at all around this time. Oh, but if I run into him too often, he'll find it creepy. Maybe just once a week. 

As I was drafting my weekly plans for the future, Totsuka was staring curiously at me on my bicycle. "What about you, Hachiman? Your house isn't around here, is it?" 

"Oh, I wanted to get something to eat." 

"Oh really?" Totsuka replied with a little hmm of acknowledgment, then he paused a bit in consideration. With a little tilt of his head, he looked at me with hesitant, upturned eyes. "…Can I come with you?" 

"Hwa?" His unexpected remark made me freeze up, and a really dumb sound came out of my mouth. 

Meanwhile, Totsuka was squeezing the scarf at his collar and twisting around uneasily as he waited for my reply. 

"Y-yeah. Of course," I said. 

Totsuka sighed in apparent relief, and a soft smile came to his lips. "That's great. Then what should we eat?" 

"I'm fine with anything." Once the words were out of my mouth, I realized maybe that was a poor response. With a girl, you can't say you're fine with anything, huh? By the way, I hear even if the guy answers with something specific like ramen or udon, she'll give him a sour look. In other words, when a girl asks you, "What should we eat?" you have to reply with your best guess at what she wants. What the heck kind of catch-22 is this? Are girls a system for cultivating espers? 

But Totsuka is a boy, so it's okay. 

He blinked a couple times and then asked me, "Hachiman, you haven't decided what you'll eat?" 

I was on the verge of saying, I'm going to eat…you! like the wolf in 

"Little Red Riding Hood," but there was no way I could say that, 'cause I'm a human… 

"Oh, I was just kind of wandering over here, so anything is fine," I said in a particularly gentlemanly voice. 

My intention had been to go for ramen, but that had been by process of elimination. When you eat alone a lot, you wind up unconsciously choosing places that have counter seats. There's nothing to worry about when it's not crowded, but using a table seat when I'm alone makes me feel bad. 

Besides, I didn't have to fixate on ramen—eating with Totsuka would make anything taste delicious. I said earlier that having someone pay for your food is the best spice, but I take that back. The best spice is Totsuka. It'd be crazy if Momoya started selling something like It's Totsuka! It'd go beyond panic buying—it'd hit corporate buyout levels. 

While we were talking about what to eat, Totsuka clapped his hands. 

"Ah. Then how about yakiniku?" 

Hey, hey, you know what they say about a man and a woman eating yakiniku together, but what about two boys eating yakiniku together…? 

As I was thinking this, Totsuka seemed to realize that wasn't so good, as he tilted his head. "Hmm, I guess yakiniku is a little expensive." "Yeah, that's something you eat on someone else's dime." 

"You're always such a character, Hachiman…" Totsuka laughed an embarrassed "Ah-ha-ha." But yakiniku, huh…? 

If you want to eat meat, I think there are other options, though…, I thought, looking around, and a certain fast food place, Fa-Kin, caught my eye. Since it was in a great location close to the station, it was a fairly popular place for kids around here. There was a hanging banner set outside the shop with the words YAKINIKU KALBI WRAP dancing on it. 

"How about that?" I pointed at it, and Totsuka's eyes sparkled. 

"Ohhh! Yeah, I think I'd like that!" 

Upon gaining Totsuka's approval, we headed into the Fa-Kin in front of the station. But what's with the abbreviation Fa-Kin? It seems kind of unfortunate. 

The restaurant's interior was a sharp contrast from the outside. It was warm and crowded inside, despite the cold wind blowing through the door. This had to be about the time when people returning from cram school and work would be stopping by for food. 

When we lined up in front of the register, Totsuka breathed a little sigh. His cheeks were slightly red. 

"They keep it pretty hot in here," he said as he brought his thin fingers to his scarf. I heard the cloth slide off, revealing a strangely captivating neck. Just looking at it made my face red. 

This is strange; this is strange. Totsuka is a boy. The heating must be making my face red right now, or it's entirely possible that I've caught a cold or something. Calm down. Calm down and compose a haiku! 

So am I sick, then? / No way, of course I'm not sick! / Ah, I think I'm sick… (I'm sick.) 

…Yeah, I'm sick. If you're composing a haiku about it, there's definitely something wrong. 

As I lined up, feeling flustered, our turn finally came. Judging from the level of the crowds, rather than us ordering as individuals, it seemed it'd be better for us to order together. 

I stood next to Totsuka, and together we took a cursory look at the menu. 

Totsuka pointed to something on it—the yakiniku kalbi wrap. "Oh, Hachiman. Let's have these." 

"Yeah. Okay, let's go with that." 

We paid, accepted the yakiniku kalbi wrap combo dishes, then went to the second floor. Fortunately, there was a table open. I thumped myself down and decided to eat right away. First, I munched on what you could call the main item, the yakiniku kalbi wrap itself. 

If you're asking if I burst out yelling, It's so goooood! as lights exploded from my eyes and mouth while I swam through outer space, of course it wasn't that amazing, but Totsuka's recommendation helped, and, well, it was as good as you'd expect. 

And I was fine with that, but I didn't quite understand the reason Totsuka had recommended this. 

"…But why yakiniku?" I asked. I'd had a number of opportunities to eat with him, and I seemed to recall he was a light eater. And I'd also gotten the feeling that, if anything, he liked vegetables more than meat, too. 

Sounding a little embarrassed, Totsuka said, "I figured maybe something like that is good when you're tired…" 

Oh, I see. He had exercised not long ago, so maybe he was hungry. It's like, you know, how it's best to eat protein or whatever after working out. 

Or so I had interpreted it in my head, but Totsuka added quietly, "Since you've seemed tired lately, Hachiman…" 

"Have I?" I was aware of my own fatigue. But that was more like worry, a mental thing. My expression said, This is nothing. 

But Totsuka shook his head vigorously. He put his food down and timorously peered into my face. "Did something happen?" His eyes and voice were both kind. But his gaze looked much more determined than usual, and his earnestness overwhelmed me. 

Before replying, I brought my oolong tea to my lips. I felt like if I didn't, my voice would come out hoarse. "…Not really. Nothing's happened." I'd swallowed so many things, that answer came out smoother than I'd expected. My tone was more cheerful than usual, and I think I was smiling, too, to avoid making him worry. 

But my smile just seemed to make him a little sad. "…Oh yeah, you don't talk about that sort of thing, huh, Hachiman?" His shoulders slumped and his head drooped, so I couldn't see the expression on his face. Still glum, he added, "Maybe Zaimokuza would know…" "No, he's got nothing to do with anything." I was a little surprised Totsuka would pull out that random name out of nowhere. 

But it was relevant to Totsuka, apparently, as he shook his head hard and lifted his face. "But you told Zaimokuza before," he said, and finally, I understood what he was talking about. 

During the student council election, the one person I'd consulted, aside from Komachi, who was family, had been Zaimokuza. After that, Komachi had pulled some strings and gotten a bunch of people to help me, but the only one I'd spoken to personally was Zaimokuza. I'd never meant for that to have any kind of special meaning. He'd simply been the first one I'd seen who was also easy to talk to; he was also someone I had no reservation about getting help from. 

But Totsuka must have interpreted that differently. 

"I thought it was nice… I was really envious you could talk to him about that stuff, you know…" Totsuka slowly and falteringly put one word after another. When he said it that way, he made it sound like a good thing. 

But it wasn't. I'm sure it's nothing so beautiful as what Totsuka was saying. I think it was self-righteous and self-interested, just relying on someone else's kindness. 

Totsuka didn't know about that. 

That was why he was still speaking to me so warmly. 

"I don't think I'd be useful, but…" 

I could see Totsuka squeezing his jacket underneath the table. His thin shoulders were trembling as if he were shivering. I didn't want to cause him any more unnecessary worry. 

I hesitated a bit as to how I should talk my way out of this, scratching my head roughly as I put it into halting words. "That's not it. It really wasn't anything big. Isshiki just asked me to do something, and I was busy with that… And since I was basically the one who recommended her to be president, well, that was part of it. That's all." I summed up the brief facts to tell him and mentioned nothing else. The omission made it that much harder to say. 

But it seemed even that was better than nothing, as Totsuka lifted his head. Then he looked me straight in the eye, as if trying to ascertain whether this was true or not. "Really?" 

"Yeah. So you don't need to worry about it." If I had even a moment to think, I'd say something else. So I answered instantly. 

"Okay." He breathed a little sigh, then reached out for his coffee. Even after taking a sip, he didn't let go of it. With the cup warming his palms, he muttered, "You really are cool, Hachiman." 

"What?" 

My surprise must have been quite apparent; when Totsuka saw my face, he was startled, too. "I—I don't mean it in a weird way!" He waved his hands frantically. Face bright red and fiddling with his hair, he added, "Ummm, I'm not quite sure how I should say it, but…you don't ever complain, and you work hard on your own, even when things are painful or tough. I think…it's just…cool…" 

His explanation made me even more embarrassed. I pretended to lean my face on my hand and looked away. Reflexively, my manner of speech became curt. "…Not really. I complain, and I whine a hell of a lot, too." 

"Ah-ha-ha, maybe that's true." Totsuka suddenly burst into smiles. And then, his expression still kind, he hesitantly murmured, "…But if you're in trouble, tell me, 'kay?" He added that question at the end like a reminder, and I nodded wordlessly in response. The seriousness of his tone reminded me I shouldn't speak so casually. All the more so if Totsuka thought trust and cooperation were beautiful things. 

When I agreed, Totsuka nodded back at me. 

There was a strange silence then. Totsuka looked down, a little shyly. 

The air between us felt more relaxed than before. "Wanna eat something sweet?" I asked casually. 

"Oh yeah. Dessert," Totsuka agreed, head jerking up. 

"I'll go buy whatever. You wait here." The moment that was out of my mouth, I stood up without waiting for his reply. 

When I went down to the first floor, the register was crowded like before. I was going to have to wait awhile. 

Perhaps because there were so many people coming in and out of the restaurant, the area next to the register was a little warm. I started worrying I would zone out, so I decided to go outside for a bit. 

The December night was cold, but the chilly outside air felt good on my cheeks. I'd come outside without putting on my coat or scarf, and the dry wind sneaked down my collar. I huddled into myself. 

As I was trembling alone on the nighttime street corner, one of the passersby gave me a funny look. Most of the other people didn't pay attention to me. 

Suddenly, what Totsuka had just said rose in my mind. 

Cool, huh…? 

He was wrong about me. I was probably being stubborn. I think I was just trying to look good. 

What he said was "cool" was nothing more than a form of obstinacy, an attempt not to betray the version of myself I'd decided I should be. 

Even now, a repulsive monster of reason and self-consciousness haunts this body. 

Maybe I should have simply taken what Totsuka said positively rather than focus so hard on it. 

However, Yuigahama's forced happy face, Isshiki's occasionally revealed glum expressions, Rumi Tsurumi's isolation, and most of all, Yukinoshita's quiet, resigned smiles asked me repeatedly: 

Was that really right? 

I sighed, looking up at the starless night sky. Illuminated by the lights of the city, the part of the sky I could see was covered with clouds. 

5: Shizuka Hiratsuka wishes them a good future. 

The raindrops slid down the glass. The rain hadn't stopped since morning, and it was still falling now in a cold drizzle. 

I'd brought up Komachi's entrance exams the other day when it was time for me to go, so maybe that was why Yukinoshita didn't question me as I left the clubroom. 

Someone must have left open a window, because the empty hallway floor was damp. I could hear the squeaking of my indoor shoes with every step. 

There was one week left until Christmas. 

Snow rarely falls in December in Chiba. I didn't have to worry about a white Christmas. What I had to worry about was the black company I was heading off to now. 

After leaving the school building, I headed straight for the community center. 

Since it had been raining when I'd left home in the morning, I had commuted to school by train, transferring to the bus after that. In a warmer season, I would have taken my bicycle, even if it meant getting a little wet, but of course I didn't want to get soaked in winter. 

The barren trees made the path by the park feel quite a bit chillier. 

Normally, it would have been a while longer before sunset, but the weather that day meant the sunlight was already fading. 

Against this somber backdrop, the umbrella of the person walking in front of me was bright and colorful. It was a plastic one, decorated with an appealing flower design. 

The owner of the umbrella was spinning it around as she walked, probably staving off boredom. Occasionally, golden hair would peek out from underneath. 

From my view of her hair and back, it looked like that person was Isshiki. 

She walked at a leisurely pace, so I caught up to her right away. When I came up beside her, she noticed me, tilting her umbrella to get a look at my face. "Oh, hi." 

"Hey." I lightly raised my umbrella in reply. "You gonna buy snacks today?" 

"No. It doesn't look like there's going to be a meeting today." 

"Oh, that's right." 

As Isshiki said, there would be no meeting that day. The time had been allotted to a thorough examination of the ideas that had come up the day before, to consider whether they were realistic, as well as to come up with some compromise proposals. So that meant no need for food shopping. And inevitably, I wouldn't be carrying that bag of snacks. 

As I was pondering this, Isshiki peeked under my umbrella and gave me a wicked smile. "…Heh-heh-heh, too bad. You can't try to earn points with me that way." 

"I know that's not enough to earn anything." 

As we were having this stupid conversation, a somewhat large, inelegant, and plain plastic umbrella came over with a hurried pitterpatter. The hem of a skirt from Kaihin fluttered restlessly underneath it. 

"Huh? It's Isshiki-chan and Hikigaya." The one calling out to us with her umbrella raised high was Orimoto. 

"Hello!" 

"Heya. Geez, I was just chatting with some friends, and I wound up running late." As usual, Orimoto was acting familiar. She came right up by Isshiki's side immediately, and they started a friendly chat. Of course, Isshiki never revealed any displeasure toward Orimoto's behavior. She wore a beaming and affable smile as she accommodated her. 

Watching from the side, I walked through the rain. 

When it seemed they'd run out of things to talk about, Isshiki seemed to suddenly remember something. "That reminds me—you two knew each other before, right?" 

"Yeah, yeah, we went to the same middle school," Orimoto replied. 

Isshiki glanced at us. "So even he had friends, huh?" 

Could you not react like that? It makes me uncomfortable. 

It seemed Orimoto felt the same way, though, and she looked like she didn't quite know how to reply. "Friends? Well, hmm…sort of, I guess." 

Isshiki must have sensed something off about Orimoto's vague reply, and she pounced, eyes sparkling. "What, what?! That's a meaningfulsounding way to say it." 

Orimoto made an oh nooo face and looked at me. 

But she really had no choice but to reply. Orimoto and I had never exactly been friends, so it made sense for her to answer vaguely. 

But Isshiki wouldn't overlook this opportunity. With a grin, she tugtugged at my sleeve. "Heeey, come on, what's up?" 

Stop it, don't tug it, our hands touched a little and, like, it was soft, and I don't want to keep thinking about it, so don't! 

I bet it was a strategy for the sake of rattling me. I was weakened by Isshiki's persistent, pestering attack, and in the process of avoiding her hand, I let it slip. "Well, stuff happened, a long time ago…" 

"Stuff…" Isshiki repeated that word, and this time, she turned to Orimoto. 

Pressed for a reply, Orimoto got stuck. "Uhhh," she said, then covered it with a laugh. "Ah-ha-ha, well, it was a long time ago." Her answer was a little surprising. I'd thought for sure Orimoto thought of my confession as a good story for getting a laugh, but she looked away from Isshiki and avoided giving her a straight answer. 

I wouldn't go so far as to say I wouldn't mind if they talked about our past, but I'd expected it as an inevitable outcome, so Orimoto's change there was a bit curious to me. 

Isshiki still wanted to ask questions, but Orimoto sensed that and spun around to me instead, changing the subject suddenly. "Anyway, Hayama isn't coming to this thing, is he?" 

Isshiki twitched at the name Hayama. She'd been grinning and having a good time, but now her smile froze. "…Do you know Hayama, too?" 

Her voice was pitched a little low. Scary. Her eyes were smiling, and her mouth was giggling, but I think she was squinting up her eyes on purpose to hide the gravity behind them… "We hung out a bit before," Orimoto said. 

"Ohhh, so you hung out…" Isshiki pounced on those words, shooting Orimoto a dark look. 

Not good. This is going to turn into a hassle. 

"I'm sure he's busy with his club, so he can't come," I cut into their conversation, and Orimoto tilted her umbrella and looked at me. 

"It seems like you get along well with him," commented Orimoto, "so I was just wondering if he might show up later on." 

"We're not friends. If he did, it'd just be awkward." 

"Oh? But we're kind of in trouble, aren't we? The student council started up in the fall, and they're not used to things. So I thought you might call him in to help or something." 

I see; so Kaihin—or Orimoto, at least—is aware of the trouble. She had appeared to be agreeing unconditionally with the current state of affairs, but it seemed she had her own problems with it. 

"It's true that things aren't good, but I'm not calling Hayama." 

"Hmm… Well, it'd be pretty awkward if we did see him, though," she murmured. She'd felt that awkwardness personally. 

It was true, considering what had happened right before we'd parted ways with Hayama and the others when we'd gone to hang out downtown. It would be hard to face him again. I didn't really want to go out of my way to find him myself, either. 

Orimoto had probably brought him up just now to prevent him from showing up later, since it'd be awkward if they did meet. Or maybe she was just making sure he wouldn't be coming. I could understand that. 

But Isshiki seemed thoughtful as she glanced over at our faces. Well, if she didn't remember Orimoto, then I didn't have to tell her. She probably wasn't interested in other girls… 

After we'd exhausted the conversation about Hayama, the one common topic among the three of us, we walked in silence for a while. 

We were nearly at the community center entrance when Orimoto gave an "Ahhh" to indicate she wanted to say something. I glanced over at her, wondering what it was, and found she was staring at me. 

"…I also thought those girls you're friends with might come, 

Hikigaya." 

"No…they're not coming." 

I wasn't going to call them. I couldn't. 

"Hmm…" Orimoto expressed her disinterest, then kicked up a splash from a puddle before tilting up her umbrella to look up at the sky. I followed her gaze. In the west, the sunset was just barely peeking out. Maybe the rain might stop soon. 

But the sky was still dark. 

A little while after we went into the community center, I happened to look up at the clock. 

Another day of time passing, nothing more. 

I closed my borrowed laptop with a click and pressed my fingers to my eyes. The task of surveying the ideas that had come up in the meeting the day before was tougher than I'd thought. 

The more time passed, the fewer options we had. 

We didn't have enough time, people, or money. Put together those three excuses, and they make some fine rationale. With these as your reasons, you can give up or give in on anything. 

Of course, if we could postpone the plans or suspend them, we wouldn't be so limited, but we were already past the point of backing out. 

We kept getting more people involved with this project, while the key elements were yet to be decided. To put it in anime terms: It's like you've only come up with a production committee, while the actual anime hasn't been done. An anime like that is never gonna go well… 

And plus, while we were doing this, time would keep marching on, and the days on the calendar would keep flipping by. It sounded nice to say we were putting time and effort into it, but we were really just killing the time we had to do the work. In anime terms, it's like putting all the time into planning meetings, while all the other important stuff is a mess… Something like that. 

What was important was balance and making decisions. Right now, both of those were lacking. 

After that short pause, I faced the laptop once more. 

I calculated the budget, confirmed the schedule, and weighed the potential costs of the more realistic plans. Just in case, I also looked up the contact info for churches and jazz bands and stuff. 

But the more I engaged in these tasks, the more overwhelming the feeling became that this event would never happen. This is just, 

eugh, this is, like, so dumb! This is, like, so totally impossible! I complained under my breath. The others from Soubu must have felt the same way, as the vice president sighed. 

Then he came over to show me some papers. "Here. Run the numbers any way you want, but there's not enough money. So what do we do?" 

"Either we do less stuff, or we raise some money. We've got no choice but to take a vote about it at the next meeting, right?" Frankly, we didn't even have time for that. But in order to make them give this up, we had to have some proper grounds for argument and some documentation, or it'd never work out. We still might be overruled anyway. 

I scratched hard at my head and reached out for a paper cup of coffee. The black liquid was so aggressively bitter and acrid, I couldn't find it good. Isn't there anything sweet…? I wondered, searching around the tabletops. 

That was when my eyes landed on Isshiki, and she drifted over. "We're about to finish making the decorations. What should we do next?" 

Oh, that reminds me—our job was to deal with the elementary school kids… I paused the task at hand, folded my arms, and considered for a while. 

Something that would be necessary, regardless of our eventual decisions, and also something that even elementary school kids could do. They were almost done making the decorations for the venue. They'd need something else to do… I suddenly struck on an idea. 

"How about setting up the tree?" I said. 

But Isshiki's face said she wasn't on board. "The tree's been delivered, but…if we set it up now, wouldn't it get in the way?" 

Well, I'd figured she'd say that. If we set it up and left it bam in the middle of the room, it would be annoying as hell. The Christmas tree we'd gotten this time around was pretty big and had an unusual sense of presence. So then we had to make use of its inconveniently large presence. 

"Let's negotiate with the community center and ask them to let us put it at the entrance. It's a week before Christmas, so that should work out perfectly. Then we just have to carry it into the venue on the day of." 

"I see… Understood!" Isshiki gave me a couple nods, then trotted off to the kids. I watched her go, then turned my eyes to the computer again. In the end, I hadn't found any snacks, but that exchange with Isshiki had been a good break. 

But man, using work as a change of pace from your other work is like a terminal symptom, right? Our complacence as corporate slaves reflects the lies, gives us "freedom" before we die of overwork… 

But I couldn't be joking around about this. Helping Isshiki was supposed to be my way of accepting the consequences of making her president, but I'd accidentally started telling her how to do her job. 

This was clearly different from support or backup. And nobody was questioning it. They were completely naturally starting to come to me for confirmation. 

This was an awful way to go about this. And I'd witnessed a bad situation like this before. I had to change this, or eventually, it would all fall apart. I knew that from experience. Most of all, if I considered Iroha Isshiki's future as student council president, this state of affairs was not at all desirable. 

With the goal of changing things quickly so I could leave the rest to Isshiki, I went to go negotiate. 

I went to Tamanawa with some papers gathered in my hands; we couldn't have the usual style of meeting. Two representatives had to make a decision in conference, or he would weasel out of this. 

"Hey, do you have a minute?" 

"What is it?" It looked like Tamanawa was working on some task alone. The characters of a plan outline danced on the screen of a MacBook Air. When I took a peek at it, I saw he was writing about things like how to synergize multiple ideas. 

Apparently, he was still trying to make everyone's ideas happen. 

After seeing a plan draft like that, it was a little hard to say what I had to, but regardless, I shoved the papers in my hands at him. "We've looked into all the various ideas. The ones that seem achievable, and the ones that don't… Well, most of them don't, but…" 

"Oh! Thank you!" Tamanawa accepted the documents from me and flipped through them. "We've made the problematic areas clear now, yes?" 

"Yeah." 

Those went without saying: We didn't have enough time or money. 

"So then let's all consider together how to resolve them." 

"No, hold on. That really is impossible. We only have one week." 

"Yeah, for bands and such, we should hire externally, I suppose. You know, I looked into it a bit, and I found quite a few services that do private concerts for hire. I think it would be great if we could work in something like that to make our own sort of event." 

Where's the money for that coming from…? I nearly asked, but that probably wouldn't be effective on someone who was fixated on his own ideas. 

It wasn't that Tamanawa wouldn't listen to people. He would listen— to everyone. 

This was exactly why he was trying to derive a conclusion that took every single idea into consideration. 

"First, let's consider it all together and decide at the next meeting." 

His will was firm. It kind of looked like he was doubling down. Even after speaking with him countless times, he still would not retreat from this position. Perhaps rather than stubbornness, I should call this an obsession—no, a delusion. It was incomprehensible to me why he would go this far in an attempt to make use of every idea. 

But that was when I figured it out. 

It hadn't been that long since Tamanawa had become student council president, either. He had an assertive personality, so I'd gotten the wrong idea, but he would have become president recently, just like Isshiki. 

That was why he sought ideas from others and listened to them. And then after making sure they agreed, he would move into action. He coordinated to avoid any problems now and any quarrels down the line. 

The psychology had to be similar to the way Isshiki would look to me for instructions. I knew Isshiki fairly well and could hardly help her, so there was no way I could support Tamanawa when I barely knew him—and trying to change his mind would be even more of a wasted effort. 

I couldn't ask for too much. I decided to remind him of one thing: Next time, for sure, we would make some real decisions. "…We absolutely have to make a decision at the next meeting, or we won't have enough time to do the work. So please make sure that gets done." 

"Of course," Tamanawa replied, his expression still bright. But now, his grin looked rather fishy to me, too. 

I gave up trying to win over Tamanawa and decided to return to my spot. 

This is bad… There's nothing else I can do. 

Ultimately, the final decision on what we were doing would take place at the next meeting—if we even came to one. Judging from the progress in the meetings thus far, I wouldn't count on it. 

Whatever the case, there was nothing else I could do at this stage. Now all I could do was twiddle my thumbs and watch this event fall apart. 

I was mulling this over on my way to my seat when I discovered Rumi all alone, working on her task. 

I looked around but saw no other little kids nearby. I recalled they were supposed to be setting up the tree or decorating it. Curious about what Rumi was doing alone, I approached her. "…Making decorations?" 

Rumi was taking a pair of scissors to folded paper, cutting along the lines drawn there. It looked like she was making some kind of snowflake decoration. 

I inferred that the task of making decorations wasn't quite over, and Rumi was doing the leftover bits. Well, the way the kids saw it, they must have preferred to do something new, like put together a tree, rather than making more of the same. 

But I dunno about letting an elementary schooler use a sharp object without any supervision. Should I say something to her? Besides, no one else was watching, so there wouldn't be anyone to give me weird looks for talking to her. 

"Working by yourself?" I asked as I crouched down a little, but she didn't reply. She continued to silently cut the folded paper with her scissors. 

Well, if she's ignoring me, I guess there's nothing I can do about that. 

I got up, figuring I'd just leave, when Rumi glanced at me. Then she picked up a new piece of paper and turned away again. "…Isn't it obvious?" she replied in a cheeky, disparaging tone. 

Just how much of a time lag is there, here? Even satellite broadcast is a little faster, at least these days. She's not cute at all, I thought, but seeing her working like that, even when she was alone, I couldn't be too mad. At the same time, I realized what had brought about this situation. 

Rumi Tsurumi's current state of affairs was another result of my actions. So I should be taking responsibility for that, too. 

I thumped down next to Rumi and picked up a piece from the stack of folded paper. I borrowed one of the pairs of scissors lying around. 

Ummm…ahhh, there's a snowflake diagram drawn on the origami paper, and you cut along the lines… No, that's not it. So do you fold it and then cut it to make the shape? Thinking about how they were doing some surprisingly sophisticated stuff, I copied the way she folded the paper, then cut it with the scissors. 

That was when I heard the snipping sounds that had been going on beside me stop. I glanced over to see Rumi's hands were still, and she was looking at me in surprise. "…What're you doing?" she asked. 

"Isn't it obvious?" I repeated back what she'd said to me not long ago. 

Rumi seemed to get that, and she gave me a little glare and a sulky look. "…So you don't have anything else to do?" "Guess not," I said. 

The truth was there were probably a number of things I should've been doing, but I could do none of them right now. For the rest, we had to actually have a meeting, or nothing was going to work out. 

Rumi gave me a dull look. "…Lazy." 

"Leave me alone." 

After that, the two of us silently resumed making the remaining decorations. 

I don't know who'd come up with the idea, but the folded paper ornaments were far more intricate than I'd imagined, and cutting out the tiny pieces with scissors required a surprising amount of concentration. I became completely absorbed in it, and the bustle of the lecture room seemed to drift away. 

But then there was the noisy patter of approaching footsteps. I looked up to see Isshiki had trotted over. 

"Oh, I'm gonna borrow that box cutter." She casually asked for permission, then reached out to one of the box cutters on top of the table. She probably needed the tool for decorating the tree. 

Then she noticed Rumi, who was too absorbed in her task to notice Isshiki in return. But Isshiki seemed curious about something. 

She beckoned me over with little hand gestures. I leaned toward her as if to ask, What is it? 

She whispered into my ear, "…Do you like younger girls?" 

"I don't dislike them." I have a little sister, so maybe that's why I don't really feel all that awkward around kids of that age. In fact, I get far more anxious when they're around my age. On the other hand, I don't really know how to deal with kids as young as Kawasaki's sister. I can be a little awkward around them, but I guess that's it. Oh, I do have a basic dislike of younger boys, though. I 

mean, they're such animals, they can't even understand verbal communication… 

I'd answered her, but Isshiki gave me no reply. When I eyed her, wondering if it was just a corpse, she gave me a confused look. "…Wait, wereyoutryingtohitonmeI'msorryIlikeolderguysquiteabitbuti t'snothappening." 

"Uh, I'm clearly not." Honestly, I feel like an idiot for replying seriously to her questions… 

When I tried to shoo her out of my way, Isshiki whined, "Hey, why're you treating me like that…?" as she left the lecture room. 

Once she was gone, the time passed in silence once more. 

There were only the sounds of rustling paper and scissors snipping away. Neither of us opened our mouths, and there was nothing but snowflakes made of folded paper falling into piles. Eventually, we finished the last one, and Rumi and I looked at each other. 

"Guess we're done…" 

"…Yeah," she answered, and then with a satisfied-sounding sigh, she smiled a little. But when her eyes met mine, she shyly jerked her face away again immediately. 

I breathed a short sigh and stood. "…Right, I guess I'll go now." 

"U-um…" Still sitting, Rumi looked at me as if she wanted to say something. 

But I didn't wait for her. "I bet they're still working on the tree, so why don't you go?" 

"…Oh yeah," Rumi replied, and then she stood and headed out of the lecture room. I returned to my old seat. 

I couldn't listen to what Rumi had been about to say. Seeing that smile had hurt. 

It had made me realize I was trying to buy forgiveness with my petty attempt to help her. But Rumi Tsurumi's smile was not something that would affirm my actions. 

Some things had been saved through my old methods. 

But I'm sure that's not enough. 

My responsibility. I still don't know what the answer is.