"Ah! You scared me!"Kunii Osamu, a burly guy from the baseball club, flinched, putting on a mock frightened expression.
Watanabe Tetsu smirked. "Was it really that scary?"
"How could it not be?!" Kunii, trying to save face, raised his voice. "That's Seino Rin we're talking about! A perfect beauty!"
"Really? I think Yamaguchi Naomi isn't so bad either," Watanabe Tetsu said deadpan.
"Watanabe, don't push it! Though, I guess Naomi isn't too shabby," Kunii said, sounding almost flattered by the compliment.
Keisuke Saito was a little more composed, though slightly nervous. He said, "Seino's father isn't just a big company president—he's also a member of parliament. If she thinks we're bothering her, we could be asked to transfer… or worse, suspended."
"That extreme?" Watanabe Tetsu's expression mirrored the one he'd worn yesterday when hearing that Tamamo Homami was being supported financially.
Kunii patted him on the shoulder in mock solemnity. "This is Tokyo, Watanabe."
Maybe it was true, maybe not, maybe half and half. Either way, Watanabe Tetsu figured it had nothing to do with him.
The afternoon brought two consecutive art classes, held once a week like home economics.
Watanabe Tetsu mixed his paints while studying a white plaster statue.
Halfway through, Kunii leaned over. "Keisuke, come look at Watanabe's painting!"
Saito walked over and glanced at it. "Isn't that… an ape-man?"
The two burst out laughing. A lively female student nearby glanced over and joined in. The classroom echoed with laughter.
Even the young, artsy teacher chuckled. "Impressive, Watanabe-kun! Capturing Da Vinci's essence at such a young age."
"Just okay," Watanabe Tetsu said casually.
When class ended, his gender-ambiguous ape-man earned a B—breaking his personal record.
"It should have been a C, but it's just too funny. Hahaha! No, we need to keep this for the other classes to see," the art teacher wrote.
Compared to the art club members in class, his work was far behind—even if they'd only joined a month ago.
Clubs weren't just for fun. Essentially, they were like training classes in society: real skills could be learned, and those who excelled could reach top-tier levels in the wider world.
Back in the classroom, Watanabe grabbed his bag.
"I've got to meet at the field! Dinner's on me tonight at that family restaurant, same as last time, six-thirty!" Kunii said and dashed off.
Saito turned to Watanabe Tetsu. "I'm heading to the computer research club. You going home or to the Human Observation Club?"
"No work today, so I'll sit at the club a bit and wait for you and Kunii."
"Then let's go together."
"Okay."
The campus was noisy after school. Students ran through the hallways in pairs or groups, some leaning by windows chatting.
The overhead walkway leading to the club building was packed. The reality of a school was far from the anime cliché where only two or three students are present.
In the distance, like a ticking clock, the wind carried the sounds of the wind instrument practice from the brass band.
"Next week's test, right?" Saito asked.
"Monthly test," Watanabe Tetsu replied.
"Feeling confident about getting first place this time?"
"First, huh… Rin's eight o'clock intelligence is a tough standard. I'll do my best."
"And the golden week after exams? Plans?"
"Study and part-time work."
"Why not go out? Like Akihabara? Gashapon? VR games?"
"Trying to save money."
"Next month, then."
The two chatted as they reached the club building. On the third-floor stairway, they parted ways: Saito to the computer research club, Watanabe Tetsu to the fifth-floor Human Observation Club.
He opened the club door. Rin Seino was there, as still and picture-perfect as ever, absorbed in a hardcover book.
"Sorry," Watanabe said. "I'm just waiting for some friends from other clubs. Not here to bother you."
"Doesn't matter," Rin said, barely nodding.
Watanabe Tetsu dug through a corner pile of discarded furniture and found a relatively new steel chair. He placed it far from her and sat down.
He idly glanced around for a moment before focusing on the girl reading.
Now it was easy to see why Kunii had been so flustered around her: pale, flawless skin; glossy black hair; a slim figure; long legs in black knee socks. Flawless except… maybe her chest?
Could her lack of bust be her only flaw? What if she grows? Too presumptuous to judge now… or perhaps the stats update in real-time?
"Whatever you do, always consider the cost beforehand," the girl suddenly said.
"Uh?"
Rin smoothed her skirt and continued, "Certain aspects of humanity are outside my observation scope."
"Can I ask a few questions?" Watanabe Tetsu ventured.
"You can understand the meaning behind certain numbers? Impressive." Rin propped her chin on her hand, voice flat. "Too bad, I won't tell you."
Watanabe Tetsu went straight to the point. "What exactly does the Human Observation Club do?"
"It's what I just demonstrated. I was testing you. Too stupid, and you can't join this club."
Being called stupid didn't bother him. After all, this wasn't about words. And a club where you could leave early whenever you wanted was probably unique in the entire school. Perfect for Monday and Wednesday part-time work.
Watanabe Tetsu recalled everything about this strange club for the first time seriously.
"Today I submitted something to the Literary Club. They were unhappy with me. At first, I thought it was you, but if it were, not everyone would glare at me. At least a few girls would have persuaded me to quit. So it wasn't you—they were upset with the Human Observation Club as a whole, represented by you. Why? The only thing I can think of is the submission. Were you trying to write something better than every Literary Club member to observe their—humans'—reactions?"
"Correction: not intentional."
"So they offended you first?"
Rin tucked hair behind her shoulders. "Those people aren't worth my notice. They were just unlucky to be my first target."
"How pitiful," Watanabe muttered, as if reading lines.
He remembered: the Literary Club submission said the best entry would be chosen by school-wide vote. Representing the school's avid readers, yet the winner wasn't even one of them. Would someone commit seppuku?
"You seem confident about your work," Rin said, crossing her arms and scrutinizing him.
"You're not first place, and yet so confident," Watanabe replied.
"Lie. Continue answering."
"Mind-reading?" he asked curiously.
Rin tapped her arm with a finger. "Answer the question."
"Fine," he said, switching tactics. "You're highly intelligent, so I assume you don't act without confidence."
She nodded, almost imperceptibly. Approval.
"Passed. Congratulations. You're now an official member of the Human Observation Club."
"Thank you."
"Now, my turn to ask."
So far, the questions had been his—but now it was her turn.
"Although I asked before, I wasn't satisfied, so I'll ask again: do you like men?"
"Huh? What kind of question is that? Some rumor? Why do you need satisfaction as a premise?"
Perhaps some girl had sent a love letter, arranged a meeting behind the gym or in the courtyard, and he stood them up while always hanging out with Kunii and Saito—thus, the rumor about his orientation.
"Answer the question," Rin repeated, her catchphrase.
"Of course not. I like women, aged fourteen to thirty-five," he said firmly.
"Strange," Rin murmured, looking down. "Did someone really say you like men?"
He couldn't let that rumor spread. Not a chance.
Rin raised her beautiful face. "Relax. Who would care about gossip regarding someone like you?"
"Good." Watanabe exhaled. "Then why ask?"
"A normal man whom nobody likes… doesn't that strike you as odd? Curious?"
He studied her, ensuring she wasn't joking. "Are you serious? Why does everyone have to like you?"
Rin smiled silently, saying everything without words. Her aura alone delivered the answer.
"By the way, if I say I don't like someone, I don't. You seem confident too," he said.
"Correction: confident in myself. Since you don't like me and are under me, I'll tell you," she flicked her hair. "I've been able to see through all lies since I was little."
The statement carried so much information, Watanabe Tetsu didn't know where to start refuting it.
A small, almost invisible blue interface flickered.
[You have a new message]