Yahari Ore no Seishun Love Come wa Machigatte Iru - Volume 6 - Chapter 5

5

Meguri Shiromeguri is pleasantly trifled with.

What’s something that never decreases in amount, no matter how much of it you do?

Work.

Such thoughts lingered in my brain as I faced the PC with empty eyes.

Even writing up the minutes for the meeting had become my job now. When the hell did that happen? I could’ve sworn the Records and Miscellaneous section head, some third year, was supposed to be the one doing it.

“Records and Miscellaneous, you have yet to submit the record of the proceedings from last week.” It had all begun with that one line from Madam Vice-Chair of the Committee.

Who was the one responsible for it? Absent, huh? So then who was next in line? They were off, too. Then next after that? After that? After that…

After that was me.

When I was informed that I would do it, I literally snorted.

Of course there was no way I’d remember a meeting from a week earlier. Half of it was completely fabricated, a string of vague words that sounded appropriate: proceeding in earnest refer to progress report on attached sheet, suitable adjustments, and general compilation planned. It was fine. The responsible parties would take care of it. That’s why they’re the responsible parties.

I finished up when it was basically good enough and guzzled down some tea I’d poured for myself.

It’s quieter than usual, so I’ve gotten a lot done, I thought. Looking around the conference room, there were fewer than twenty people working like me. Five of the people there were from student council. Originally, there should have been two kids from each class in the cultural committee, but at this point, not even half of them were there.

The one most aggressively plowing through the work was Yukinoshita. Perhaps because Haruno wasn’t around that day, she was able to calmly get things done. She seemed to be working more and longer than she had before. Maybe the cause was her rivalry with Haruno.

There was also that the work volume had simply increased.

The arrival of Haruno’s volunteer group must have triggered this new wave of groups, which meant we were flooded with adjustments to make.

We wouldn’t have been able to manage it all with our diminished numbers if it weren’t for the efforts of the executives and the student council, Yukinoshita’s talents, and Haruno’s help. She would occasionally float in to handle a few things when she was here for practice with her volunteer group. Somehow, we had been scraping by.

On my break, I checked up on how everyone else was doing and found someone else taking a breather.

It was Meguri. When her eyes met mine, she tried to talk to me. “Uh, um…” It seemed like she was trying to remember my name. I sensed she was about to pleasantly ask me, Sorry, what was your name again? And that would make me sad, so I decided to beat her to the punch.

“Working hard, huh?”

“Yeah. So have you.” Meguri smiled. I could see a touch of exhaustion in her expression. The way things were going, the burden on all personnel was increasing. You could say there was no way around it, though, and you’d be right.

“So…,” I began, “our numbers are kinda dwindling, huh?”

“Yeah…it looks like everyone is pretty busy.” The conference room was so empty, it felt even larger than usual. “B-but I’m sure we’ll get more tomorrow!” said Meguri. That probably wasn’t going to happen.

In fact, more and more people were bound to drop out from that point on. Once this idea that it was okay to skip out had taken root, the attendance rate would plummet faster and faster.

There’s something called the “broken windows theory.”

Let’s say there’s a broken window on a building in a certain town. If you leave it be, it becomes a sign of apathy, and that apathy invites the erosion of morality, which leads to crime. The theory born from this string of causation is the “broken windows theory.”

Fundamentally speaking, people are soft on themselves.

Not all members of the cultural committee had volunteered to join up. Some, like me, would have been forced into it. But they’d still do the work anyway because they believed everyone else was working hard, and the guilt would drive them forward. If you remove that general perception or compulsion that prevents people from slacking off, it all collapses. It’s axiomatic.

It’s a lot easier to look for reasons to not try than it is to do the opposite. I’m sure everyone has felt it before, be it when studying or dieting. You use the weather, the temperature, your mood—anything as a reason to skip out.

At some point, we wouldn’t be able to handle things anymore. Meguri must have understood that, too. But nobody knew what to do or how to get out of this. Anyhow, the chair herself wasn’t around, and the vice-chair was so remarkably talented, she could more than make up for the people who were skipping out.

Meguri and I both sipped at our tea in silence. I was enjoying my peaceful moment with her (though neither of us said anything), but we couldn’t rest for long. As we got closer to the festival, things were getting more intense, and with that intensity would come more work.

Now there was yet another knock, knock on the door of the conference room.

Speaking of which, I’ve heard that the well-known dun dun dun duuun of Beethoven’s “Fate” is the sound of destiny knocking on the door. If that’s true, destiny sure has nice manners.

I wondered if the person knocking on the door right then would be the bearer of more work. In other words, fate means work, and I, in my attempts to live without toil, am he who struggles against fate. I think they really should turn my life into a game with the Characteristic Genre Name “RPG to struggle against the fate of work.” I hope I can use the royalties to feed myself without getting a job.

“Come in,” Meguri called out, since nobody had replied yet.

Someone stepped in, saying, “Pardon me.” The identity of the one knocking on heaven’s door was Hayato Hayama.

“I’ve come to submit my volunteer application…,” Hayama said to Yukinoshita when he noticed her.

“Applications are to the right, at the rear,” she responded, hands still flying across the keyboard. She would get zero points in customer service for that, but, well, this was Yukinoshita, so there was no helping that.

It seemed Hayama understood that well enough, as he headed over to apply with a smooth “Thank you.”

Now Hayama had done what he came to do, but strangely, he was still here. In fact, he came right up to me. “…Are you down some people?”

Oh, that. “Yeah, kinda.”

“Hmm…” He combed up the hair on the back of his neck in thought.

Hey, if your hair is irritating you, then cut it off. Actually, what was weirdly irritating was his presence, although that was nothing new. “So…did you want something?” I asked, unable to take it any longer, and he grinned at me.

“Oh, not really. I’m just waiting for my documents to be evaluated. She said she was going to look and see if there was anything missing.”

Is that all? So why is he standing right next to me? I wondered, but then I remembered he was just like that. I don’t know why, but these types form groups even when they have no real reason to. I guess when they see a face they know, they’re just unable to keep themselves from approaching it. It’s less uncomfortable if you just think of the habit as something a puppy would do.

Meanwhile, we got another guest, and yet another.

The volunteer groups weren’t the only ones who needed to fill out applications for their presentations; classes and clubs did, too. For volunteers, we also had to keep the stage situation and equipment issues in mind, which was part of Volunteer Management’s jurisdiction, but the executives handled all other applications. For anything regarding foodstuffs, Health and Sanitation would be sent to handle that, and they would be the ones to evaluate and approve it.

The due date for applications was coming up, and this contributed to the particularly large number of visitors that day. But this rush was poorly timed, and there weren’t enough people at each counter, so things were starting to get chaotic. That was when we started getting some applicants who didn’t know where to go.

One confused-looking girl, probably in first year, didn’t know what to do and came over to talk. To Hayama…to Hayama. “Um…I’m volunteering…”

“Applications for volunteer groups go over there.” He helped her so naturally, it was like he was on the committee himself. Obviously, that invited some misunderstandings, so all the people who had come in with their applications were going, Oh, you ask Hayama, you ask Hayama!

“I don’t know how to fill this out… Could you help me with this?”

“Oh, if you don’t mind getting help from me.”

I think that girl is probably asking because it’s you, Hayama.

While Hayama was explaining it to her in-depth, a line formed behind her.

“Come give me a hand,” Hayama said to me.

“Ah, hey—” Before I knew it, I’d been roped into this, too. Did the girls who were turned over to me look disappointed for a moment? Well, yeah.

Hayama and I both had our hands full, and we processed the line as best we could. Meguri hurried in, too, and the three of us managed the crowd until the application rush had passed.

“Sorry. Thank you!” When things had finally settled down for the time being, Meguri poured some tea. For Hayama…for Hayama. Well, she must have felt awkward for making a nonmember like him help out. It’s just, um, I was doing work outside my jurisdiction, too, though…sniffle.

Hayama thanked Meguri as he sipped his drink and then asked, “Do you have enough help?”

“I don’t know the whole situation,” I said. “Us underlings have our hands full with our own responsibilities.”

“So what are you in charge of?”

“Records and Miscellaneous,” I replied.

“Ah.” Apparently, that made sense to him. “That’s very you.”

You trying to start a fight here?

Having seen the situation firsthand, Hayama seemed to have a general grasp on what was happening. He nodded with a know-it-all look. “I see. Must be rough, then.”

“…Oh, not really.” There wasn’t really any problem. Exactly the opposite: The problem was that there were no problems.

Yukinoshita was dealing with just about everything herself. She had the skills, she had a certain degree of authority as the vice-chair, and what’s more, without any work to do for her club or her class, she had nothing but time. Even with about half the committee skipping out, she managed to cover for them all.

“But from what I can see, Yukinoshita is doing just about everything.” Hayama turned around and tried to get Yukinoshita’s attention.

Yukinoshita had been silent for a while, but she couldn’t resist Hayama’s warm gaze. It was like he was waiting for a reply. So she said, “…Yes, this is most effective.”

“But you’ll burn out soon.” It was an unusually harsh way to put it for a guy like Hayato Hayama.

Meguri reacted to the change in mood with anxiety.

The only sound in the room was the clickity-clack of the keyboard.

“…”

That was true. Yukinoshita couldn’t argue that.

“You should really start relying on other people before it’s too late,” said Hayama.

“You think so? Actually, I disagree,” I said, and Hayama gave me a hard look in the eye, waiting for me to continue. “A lot of things really do go faster when Yukinoshita does it on her own. Fewer losses, and that’s a plus, right? Most of all, trusting people with responsibility is exhausting. And when you’re so much more capable than they are, that goes double.” We—or at least I—can’t trust people to handle stuff.

If things don’t go well for you and you alone, you have only yourself to blame, and you don’t get the urge to pawn off responsibility. You can’t bring yourself to resent someone else for it. And not out of kindness or a sense of accountability. It’s because when it’s you, you can let it go, but when someone else has done it to you, you can’t. Living your life thinking If she’d only done this then or If he’d just done his job is oppressive, painful, and miserable.

So it’s better to do it yourself.

Because when it’s only your own regret, all you have to do is mourn.

Hayama narrowed his eyes just slightly and then gave a short, slightly pitying sigh. “…Will it work out if you do it that way?”

“Hmm?”

“If things go well, that’s fine, but right now, you’re not managing everything, and it won’t be long before it all falls apart. The most important thing is to make this work, right? If so, you should change the way you do things.”

“Ngh…” Just gonna sail on in here with your perfect arguments, huh, Hayama? Wait, wasn’t that a place famous for making black tea? He’s argued me down with assam real flair.

While I was moaning, I heard a quiet “You’re…right.” It seemed his remark had hit Yukinoshita where it hurt, too. Her hands had gone still over the keyboard.

But Yukinoshita had no one to rely on. If Yuigahama were around, things probably would have been different, though.

“So…I’ll help out,” said Hayama.

“But you’re not on the committee…” Meguri attempted to refuse him.

Hayama smiled in reply. “No, I’ll just handle the coordination of the volunteer groups. As their representative.”

His proposal was attractive. Unlike the classes and clubs, which had clear representatives and systems for giving them directions, the volunteer groups and their presentations varied in composition and content, and dealing with each one appropriately would get very complicated. If the groups could do that for themselves, then the burden on Volunteer Management—the burden on Yukinoshita, to be blunt—could be significantly reduced. Furthermore, it did make its own sort of sense for the volunteer participants to coordinate independently.

Meguri wavered for a moment, but then she raised her head and smiled shyly. “If that’s all it is, all right. It would be great if we could ask you to do it.”

“How about it?” Hayama asked Yukinoshita.

She put her hand to her chin and considered for a while. “…”

“Relying on other people is important, too, Yukinoshita,” Meguri admonished her kindly.

Hayama and Meguri were not wholly wrong. It was wonderful. Touching. What a lovely expression of fellowship.

That was all well and good for people accustomed to getting help. They can rely on people without hesitation. To cooperate and work together: What truly wonderful things those must be.

But I wasn’t going to praise those acts with blind conviction. I mean, that’s what they were doing, right?

If participating with the group is wonderful, if it’s such a good thing, then is working by yourself a bad thing? Why do you have to reject people who work hard alone?

I couldn’t allow that.

“…I’m sure it’s important to rely on others, but right now, we’ve got nothing but reliers. Relying by itself is fine, but some of these people are using.” It came out more aggressive than I’d expected. When I noticed Meguri had gone pale, I played it off as a joke. I didn’t want the guilt of freaking out such a pleasant and comforting beauty. “Specifically, you know, um… Oh! Yeah, like the people dumping off work on me. Man, that’s some pretty heinous stuff. I can’t avoid getting off my ass this time around…but that means no one else gets to take it easy, either!”

“You really are the worst, aren’t you?” Meguri shot back cheerfully. She must have taken it as a joke, then.

“I’ll help you out, too.” Hayama smiled wryly.

Yukinoshita sighed very quietly. “It’s true—it does seem that much of the burden has been shifted to the miscellaneous section, so I’ll reconsider the assignments. Since Meguri has judged it appropriate as well, I’ll accept your proposal. I’m grateful… I’m sorry.” Her eyes never left her computer the whole time. It wasn’t even clear who she had apologized to.

I’m sure a blithe interpretation was that Yukinoshita was being considerate for my sake, but I hadn’t really been sticking up for her. There was no reason for her to apologize to me, either. I really just can’t stand people who dump their work off on others so they can take it easy.

I hate it when people who are putting in a diligent effort get the short end of the stick. I can’t turn a blind eye when the people who are seriously tackling the matters at hand are stuck doing the dirty work.

That’s all.

I mean, it’s not like I’d helped at all anyway. In fact, I’d created a new task: redistributing the workload. I was about as useless as you could get.

“Guess I’m on the team, then,”

“Tomorrow, I’ll try contacting the people I can get ahold of, too.”

Hayama smiled broadly, and Meguri gave an encouraging nod.

“We’re really short on people…”

A week later at a committee meeting, there were even fewer attendees than before. It wasn’t even worth comparing. Aside from Yukinoshita, I could only see a handful of the executives around.

Meguri groaned helplessly. “I did contact people. Maybe I should have said upfront that Sagami’s proposal was no good…,” she said, apologetic.

She must have been referring to Sagami’s earlier claim that the classes were important, too.

Yukinoshita’s hand stopped flipping through documents. “It’s no problem. I will handle the review and approval of applications from each section myself. I believe we’ll be able to proceed without issue to finalization.” Things seemed to be moving along smoothly, perhaps because of the reallocation of labor.

Maybe I got this from some manga or anime, but they say that only 20 percent of ants work seriously. Another 20 percent of them don’t work at all. As for the remaining 60 percent, they sometimes work and sometimes don’t. It seems this is also true of humans.

The point is that 60 percent are reading the vibe to determine which group to side with. Or possibly, they court both groups just enough to avoid causing discord.

The way things were headed with the cultural committee right then, the odds weren’t looking good for the hardworking ants. It wasn’t like people were deliberately not attending. But an unspoken rule was brewing: You don’t have to go.

Everyone gets vaguely more at ease when they have numbers on their side. It’s true; you feel like If everyone else is doing it, then I guess I’m good, too. So in a manner of speaking, working hard wasn’t the trend for the cultural committee.

I’d become part of the minority—again. At this point, it even felt like destiny.

But even among those remaining few, some people were actually giving it their all. As you’d expect, the student council had a strong sense of responsibility and unity. They were playing an active part in both their regular duties as student council members and also as executives of the cultural committee.

Perhaps they accomplished this feat due to the natural virtues of their leader, Meguri. That day, like every day, the student council members were working together to support their pleasant but still somewhat featherbrained president.

Meguri was trying hard to respond in turn, too. She went around addressing all the executives and each person in attendance. “We don’t have a big crowd, but we do have regular attendees, so there’s nothing for it but to give it our best. I’m counting on you, okay?”

“Ha-ha-ha, thanks, I guess…,” I replied. She’d even come to talk to me, too. Phew… If she’d skipped me and no one else, I really might not have shown up the next day.

I put down my bag and checked my tasks for the day. Recently, we’d been chipping away at the work, so quite a lot of progress had been made. At this rate, if I worked hard, it wouldn’t be long before I was done.

I was slowly muddling through my work when I felt a couple of taps on my shoulder.

When I turned around, there was Hayama carrying a bunch of files. Even though hardly any others were showing up, Hayama still came in now and then. In fact, he was going out of his way to come and work. Of course, it wasn’t every day, but it seemed like he was making the effort when he had the time.

Hayama was a good guy.

“Sorry to get you in the middle of work,” he said. “Help me consolidate these equipment applications. It’ll just be thirty minutes.”

“O-okay…” Not only had he given me a fixed timeline, he’d also clearly described what we were doing, so I couldn’t find any reason to refuse. Not a bad way of roping a guy into something.

He was the ideal manager. And now, I was undeniably working under him. Ahhh, I want to die.

We were silently chugging along when someone opened the door with a big rattle. The conference room was a desolate wasteland, so it sounded especially loud.

All eyes gathered on Miss Hiratsuka, who was standing in front of the door and beckoning with her hand. “Yukinoshita, do you have a minute?”

Yukinoshita poked her head around the monitor on her desk. “Miss Hiratsuka…I can’t really leave my work right now. If you don’t mind, you can tell me here,” she said.

Miss Hiratsuka seemed to consider for a moment. “Hmm… Well, it’s not like we need to be formal about it…” She strode into the conference room and stood quietly beside Yukinoshita. “It seems you haven’t decided on your curriculum stream yet,” she said.

“…I’m sorry. I’m a little busy right now.” Yukinoshita looked down, embarrassed. Her hands had left the keyboard to lie on her lap.

“I see… I understand that the committee is a lot of work, but don’t push yourself too hard.”

“I understand.”

Miss Hiratsuka smiled kindly in admonishment, and Yukinoshita’s reply was brief.

“Hmm… Well, you can do it after the cultural festival is over. Since you’re in the international curriculum, your choice won’t have an impact on class arrangements. You still have time. Really, it’s just an attitude survey. Nothing you need to think too deeply about.” Miss Hiratsuka patted Yukinoshita’s head lightly, almost stroking her hair, then left the conference with a casual raised hand. A scowl on her face, Yukinoshita rearranged her hair as she watched the teacher go.

I was a little surprised that the Yukinoshita had failed to submit something like that. Apparently, I wasn’t alone, as Hayama was giving Yukinoshita a doubtful look, too. Both Hayama and I had paused in our work.

“Hey…are we done yet?” I asked. It’s hard to say that when the other guy has his nose to the grindstone, but now that our task had been interrupted, I could say it! I wanted to be free!

Hayama snapped out of it and smiled at me. “Yeah, sorry. Let’s get started again.”

That’s not what I meant… I’d been trying to ask, Can we stop doing this task now? It wasn’t a request to start again. But now that Hayama had interpreted my comment in good faith and even given me his Hayama smile, I couldn’t tell him he had the wrong idea. More significantly, the thirty minutes I’d been promised weren’t up yet. Yeah… I wasn’t getting out of this.

I was typing the information from the applications into Excel and making them all into a list when Meguri, who had been doing her own work nearby, struck up a conversation with Yukinoshita. “So which are you going for, Yukinoshita, arts or sciences?”

“I haven’t quite made up my mind yet.”

“Of course! Yep, yep. I understand how hard it is to make a decision! I had a difficult time, too. So then which subjects are you better at? Sciences?”

“…Not necessarily…” Yukinoshita didn’t seem angry, exactly, but her answer was very chilly. Meguri didn’t know quite how to reply.

Hayama’s hands paused in their task, and he lifted his head from his computer screen. “You’re good at arts subjects too, huh, Yukinoshita?”

“Oh, she is?” said Meguri, relieved at having Hayama join in on the conversation.

Come to think of it, I’d had a vague sense that Yukinoshita was good at arts subjects, too. At our grade level, I’m third in Japanese, while Hayama is second, and Yukinoshita is number one. We’re locked in at the top three, and if we all were to select the arts stream, we’d probably be ranked at the top there as well. Anyway, Yukinoshita reads a lot, too, and I think she has plenty of artistic inclinations, at least as far as I can tell on the surface.

“I’m in arts, you know,” said Meguri. “If you’re unsure of what to choose, ask me anything!”

“Agh… Thank you. I’m grateful for your concern.” I thought for sure Yukinoshita was going for a polite response, but then she went in to refuse Meguri in a super-roundabout way.

But Meguri didn’t seem to have noticed that. She continued to babble on with some excitement. “Yep, yep! Oh! I don’t know much about the sciences stream, so I can’t answer things about that, though. But Haru was in sciences, so I guess you can ask her.”

“I…suppose…I could.” Suddenly, a shadow fell over Yukinoshita’s face.

I doubted Yukinoshita would ever ask Haruno, though.

Yukinoshita hadn’t been very talkative before, but after that, she didn’t say a word. The atmosphere called for silence, so Meguri naturally stopped talking, too. After that, the only sounds in the room were taps of typing and the rustle of documents, like badly done Morse code.

In the silence, even an ahem draws your attention. No matter who the source or how quiet it was, anyone clearing their throat to speak pulled your eyes toward them.

“…The rep for 2-F? Your plan application documents have yet to be submitted.” Papers in hand, Yukinoshita breathed a short sigh.

There were still people who hadn’t turned those in? Good grief. Who was it? …It was meee! My sense of affiliation with the class was so weak, I forgot entirely.

Wait, didn’t Sagami say she’d take care of it? Well, she hadn’t been attending the committee meetings lately, so I couldn’t check with her.

“…Sorry, I’ll write it up.” I could have waited, but the documents might never be handed in otherwise, so I’d just write whatever myself.

“All right…then submit that today.”

I accepted the documents from Yukinoshita and immediately began writing.

Number of people, name of representative, registration name, equipment required, name of homeroom teacher… Come on, why are they even making me draw a diagram? Throwing down the gauntlet, are we? I took Art 2…

I skimmed over the other items for entry.

Ah-ha… I have no idea.

My commitment to nonparticipation in class activities had borne fruit. Not only did I not know their group registration name, I didn’t even know the number of people in my own class.

But it was for times like this that he was around. In fact, it was the only time I needed him around. “Hayama, what do I put on this thing?” I asked him.

He seemed to think a bit. “Sorry, I don’t really know everything about it.”

“That’s fine. I’ll just make something up for the rest.”

“Uh, you can’t do that.”

“…I can hear you.” Yukinoshita’s eyes remained locked on her monitor, but her voice was enough of a warning.

Hayama gave a wry smile. “I think it would be faster for you to ask someone who’s been with the class.”

“Okay, then.” I gathered up the papers and left for 2-F.

The classroom was abuzz with activity after school in preparation for the festival. The noise from the large number of participants in the middle of their preparation showed how much they were enjoying the project.

When a girl and a boy are conversing together, the number of times he succeeds in making her laugh is equal to one youth hit (yH), each hour engaged in the undertaking is expressed as one youth hour (yH), and the product of these two values is his youth hero degree (yH), which they compete over. It’s pretty hard to understand ’cause all the units are the same.

And as for 2-F, the yH value was fairly high. There was the play, so they were putting tables together to build a stage. In one corner, they were sewing the costumes, while in another, the actors were rehearsing their parts.

“Geez, guys, do it right!” Sagami was yelling at a number of boys, including Ooka.

So Sagami was out here, huh?

Well, even if Sagami had been with us, she wouldn’t have been very useful, so it didn’t really matter. Sometimes, it can be cruel when someone outclasses you so thoroughly.

I don’t know if I should tell her to actually come or not, I thought.

But if I did, she’d just talk about it behind my back: Like, so Hikitani was complaining about me. Ew. This is basically harassment. Actually, he’s so creepy, that makes it sexual harassment, right? lol. Lawsuit, lol! But actually, like, he’s not even the boss of me or anything, lol. Who is he, seriously? LOL… Wait, actually, who is that guy? And that would be the punch line. The vision rose so vividly in my mind, I started to wonder if my powers of clairvoyance hadn’t spontaneously awoken before an impending super-powered battle.

Scanning the classroom, I saw that my classmates were not in their regular uniforms.

It has been done…

Those fearsome, soul-destroying weapons: class T-shirts.

Class T-shirts. Basically, the T-shirts that each class makes for the cultural festival. Exactly what it says on the tin. That explanation was a waste of time.

I think these shirts are supposed to emphasize class unity, camaraderie, and excitement for the cultural festival. I also get the sense it’s a memento of the event, concrete proof of their youth.

With class T-shirts, you usually see everyone in the class’s nicknames printed on the backs for whatever reason, at least in my own experience.

These shirts had everyone’s nicknames written on them, too, while I was the only one with my real name written on it, as Hikigaya. Since the majority of the nicknames were written in phonetic katakana or hiragana letters, the formal kanji characters stuck out like a sore thumb. What’s more, they even added a friendly little kun honorific in katakana in an attempt to somehow make me sound more like part of the group. That misdirected kindness even made me feel kinda bad.

Back in first year, this sort of thing would have hit me rather hard, but now, I’m like, Just bring it on. I wouldn’t even care if they wrote my full name in kanji. Ha-ha-ha! Once the cultural festival was over, I’d immediately use this shirt as a rag. It wasn’t very high quality, so it wouldn’t make good pj’s.

I searched for Yuigahama’s figure in the classroom. Hmm… Gahama, Gahama…

And that was when a lovely figure suddenly entered my field of vision.

The androgynous being emanated a delicate charm. The baggy, overlong coat sleeves covered everything but the fingertips of Totsuka in his Little Prince costume. It looked like he was currently in the process of having the pants hemmed. His rolled-up cuffs had pins stuck in them.

He seemed bored until he noticed me, and the hands peeking out of his sleeves waved at me. “Oh, Hachiman. Welcome back.”

“…Yeah. I’m back.” As embarrassing as it was, I had returned! I very nearly bowed on reflex. If Totsuka would welcome me back with those words, I’d love to come home to him every day.

“Oh yeah!” Totsuka pattered off as if he’d just remembered something. He pulled that something out of his bag and then rushed back. On his way, he tripped on the hem of his coat and fell right into my chest…! Or rather, I briefly fantasized about it. Things did not actually go that well. Reality is always cruel.

“Thanks for this.” Totsuka was holding out a book to me.

It was the paperback copy of The Little Prince that I’d lent him a while earlier. I’d read it countless times now, so the corners of the cover were worn, and the book was a little dirty, too. I sort of regretted that now, thinking it wasn’t the sort of thing I should have been lending out.

“So I’ve been thinking about how I could say thanks for it…” Totsuka nodded firmly as if he were trying to psych himself up a little, then looked up to gaze straight into my eyes. “Um…is there anything you like, Hachiman?”

You, Totsuka.

I was inches from just blurting it out. In fact, the y had already left my mouth. “Y… Yeah, not much that I can think of, really,” I replied, somehow managing to cover up my slip.

Totsuka folded his arms small and began to seriously ponder the matter. “Hmm…really…? Th-then how about you tell me any foods or books you like, or…snacks? Anything you want.”

You, Totsuka.

Yet again, I just about blurted it out. In fact, I even got as far as the you. “U… Usually can’t think of anything on the spot. Well, if I have to come up with something, then I like sweet stuff.” Like MAX Coffee. Also, miso peanuts, malt jelly, and the soft-serve ice cream from Chiba’s own Mother Farm, and the peanut pies at Orandaya.

“Sweet stuff… Okay, I’ll get you something soon!” Totsuka said with a smile, but then a voice called out to him. It sounded like they were ready to do the hemming. Totsuka answered the call before turning back to me. “Well, I’m off.”

“I’ll see you later,” I replied, watching him go as he left with a raised hand. …I like this. I want to see Totsuka off from my house every morning. But for some reason, having Totsuka be the one supporting me seemed sorta perverse. It made me feel guilty.

Now alone, once again I scanned the classroom. Totsuka was so cute, I’d completely forgotten my original goal.

Um, Gahama…

Oh, there she is.

“Yuigahama.”

The ice cream bar she was biting into suggested she had been out doing some shopping, and she was holding a piece of paper as she participated in a meeting of some sort. Just then, she lifted her head and ran toward me. “Huh? Are you done with your work, Hikki?”

“You can stop doing work, but that doesn’t mean it’s over.”

“What are you talking about?” she said, looking at me like I was an idiot.

Tch, people blessed with good work environments… I considered kindly explaining the terror and tragedy of corporate slavery to her, but I really didn’t have the time. Silently locking away my loathing of labor in my heart, I figured I’d get this over with quickly. “I’m still working. Sorry, but could you tell me what goes here? I have to submit this today.”

“You’re in a hurry? Oh, wait, is Hayato over there, too?” She must have meant with the cultural committee.

“Yeah.”

“Then let’s do it over there, since there’s so much noise here. I was thinking about calling for a stage meeting soon anyway.”

As we were conversing, Sagami piped up behind us. “Oh, I’ve got to head off to the committee, too. Sorry, guys. Once I’ve finished this, I’ll get going.”

I returned to the conference room, and Yuigahama gave me the rundown on their plans.

Aside from the practical side of things, like necessary equipment, number of people involved, and detailed budget, I also had to fill in some pretty abstract stuff, like project intention and a general overview. I would have been able to fake something if it had just been in writing, but I even had to draw a diagram of the structures, too.

This was a real pain in the butt.

“I’m telling you, that’s not right!” Yuigahama was saying. “It’s gotta be more like, bam! It’ll have fancy decorations!”

“I don’t get it…” The pain in the butt was less the drawing itself and more understanding Yuigahama. Why were her explanations so intuition based? She was frighteningly enigmatic.

“Also, the number of people assigned to this is wrong.”

“This is humiliating… To think that Yuigahama would ever teach me a lesson…”

“What was that?! Just redo it already!” She was surprisingly strict.

I sketched out some lines and somehow managed to survive the task.

Seeing other students diligently occupied must have encouraged the executives as well. Meguri had a smile on her face as she did her work. As time passed, the conference room wasn’t mildly tense like it usually was but peaceful and calm.

Just then, a metallic squeak cut through the atmosphere. “Sorry I’m laaaate! Oh, here you are, Hayama!”

Behind Sagami followed her two usual friends. This was the first time she’d come to work in a while. After addressing Hayama, she was about to approach him when Yukinoshita stepped in front of her instead. Sagami seemed nonplussed at the sudden hindrance, but Yukinoshita didn’t give her the time to be surprised. She just shoved some documents and a stamp at Sagami. “Sagami, your approval stamp on these. There should be no issues with the review of these documents, since I’ve personally amended any inadequacies.”

“…Really? Thanks.”

The conversation went straight to business, with no room for any small talk.

Perhaps because her conversation with Hayama had been interrupted, or perhaps unhappy about being forced into a sudden business conversation, Sagami was expressionless for a few moments. Still, she quickly accepted the documents with a smile in an attempt to hide any displeasure.

Sagami went over the documents with her stamp, bam, bam, bam, hardly looking at the papers at all. Meanwhile, Yukinoshita was off to the side, accepting them back and giving them one more check before she filed them. This arrangement wasn’t anything new, but there were quite a few problems with it.

This was something I could sense, being on the inside, but I did wonder how it would look to an outsider. With that question in my mind, I glanced at Yuigahama and saw her lips pressed shut and her gaze pointed at the floor. Well, she must have had her opinions about this. With club on pause, she and Yukinoshita were oddly distant, and now she was personally witnessing this exchange between Yukinoshita and Sagami. And it wasn’t pleasant, either.

On the other hand, the other outsider, Hayama, wore the same unfaltering smile. He even called out to Sagami. “Hey. Were you in the classroom, Sagami?”

Hearing his voice, Sagami twisted around like a weasel toward Hayama. “Oh, uh-huh.”

“I see… So how are things going?”

“Pretty well, I guess,” Sagami replied.

Hayama paused for a few seconds. The glaring pause before it gave his next comment extra impact. “Oh, I didn’t mean that. I meant with the committee. It looks like Yumiko is doing a good job handling the class stuff.” There was just the slightest trace of venom in his words, be it conscious or not. If Hayama had chosen that turn of phrase deliberately, that meant there was something else behind his words. Translated loosely, I think it’d be something like, It looks like you’re skipping out on the committee… Should you be doing that?

But apparently, Sagami was immune to such venom, as she continued unfazed. “Ohhh…Miura. She’s really psyched about this, huh? I hardly recognize her. Like, she’s really got this covered.” (Translation: That bitch is even more grating than usual. It’s so obnoxious how she keeps butting in.)

“Ha-ha-ha. Well, she’s a big help, so it’s all good, right? It’s not a bad thing.” (Translation: Stop talking, okay?)

I was reading so much into their words, I must have eaten a translation jelly or something.

It wasn’t like I really cared. I think it was just because Sagami’s poorly chosen phrasing had flipped some weird switch in me. I could even sense hidden implications in Hayama’s words, and he was supposed to be a good guy. My brain processed this information and projected it across my field of vision as subtitles. I was following along with them until there was a loud clap in front of my face.

“Hey, hurry it up. I wanna go back,” said Yuigahama.

“But, like, this wasn’t even my job in the first place…” Yeah, wasn’t this something Sagami said she was going to do? Why was I the one stuck with it in the end? I can’t understand what’s going on here. I don’t understand, Masked Niyander.

“…You’re being loud,” Yukinoshita muttered quietly at our discussion.

Yuigahama and I shut our mouths automatically, but Sagami must not have heard her, and her fun little chat with Hayama continued. “Y’know, I wish I could be more like her! The way she leads everyone is so inspiring.” (Translation: I want to crush her and take her place.)

“You have your own strengths. You’re fine the way you are, don’t you think?” (Translation: I told you to stop talking, didn’t I? Know your place—for your own sake.)

“Huh? But I don’t really have a lot of strengths.” (Translation: Here, now I’m being self-deprecating! Compliment me, compliment me! Hayama, compliment me!)

“Everyone’s different. Maybe they don’t seem like strengths to you, but other people can see them.” (Translation: Sorry, I don’t know you well enough to give you a compliment, so here’s the standard placation.)

The whole time, I was reading the surprisingly liberally translated subtitles that you sometimes see on American films, and it was really distracting. Dubs are the way to go for foreign films.

The sound of a cell phone snapping shut broke off my train of thought. “Hikki, you stopped working. I put the stage meeting off until evening, so we’re going to do this thing right.”

“It’s twenty minutes until it’s time to go home,” said Yukinoshita.

They were all pressuring me…

“Hey, he hasn’t been in the classroom, so it’s inevitable that it’ll take him more time, right?” Unable to just watch, Hayama swooped in to support me. What a good guy.

Well, if you’d just filled me in on the project outline, this never would’ve happened, though. Still, if this is part of the cultural committee’s job, there’s no getting around it, I thought, biding my time.

Sagami said, “Since I’m chairing the committee, I do have to leave some things to you. Thanks!” (Translation: Do it right, minion. Nyeh.)

I just bided my time… After two turns, I’ll give it back to you double. But that’s not really biding much, is it?

Anyway, somehow or other, after what seemed like an eternity, I cobbled together the application form. “It’s over…”

“Done, huh?” Yuigahama replied, exhausted.

“Sorry. But thanks. You’ve been a big help.”

“Huh? Oh yeah. No problem. You don’t ask me for stuff often anyway.”

“Yeah. I never thought this day would come, either.”

“Just how dumb do you think I am?!”

I let Yuigahama’s complaint roll off me as I submitted the documents. Yukinoshita accepted them without a word, checking the first and second sheet, and when she was done reading them, she tap-tapped their edges on the desk to align them. “Accepted. Good work.” Without a single glance my way, she put the papers with the approved documents and filed them away.

“Don’t you need to get them stamped?” I asked.

“…Oh.” With a short “Of course,” Yukinoshita pulled out the papers once more.

It was nothing. A thoughtless error.

And that was exactly what made it so incredibly out of place.

“Your stamp here, Sagami,” said Yukinoshita.

Sagami interrupted her discussion to accept the documents. “Oh, sure. Actually, I’ll just give you my stamp, so you can sign off on them, okay?”

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea, Sagami,” Meguri advised frankly, unable to let that one slide.

But Sagami wasn’t shy at all about what she was doing. “Huh? But the way we’re doing things now isn’t efficient, is it? I think substance is more important than formality. You know, delegation?”

Out of context, the words would sound like a wonderful explosion of sound logic. Still, from a purely pragmatic perspective, it would indeed be more effective to leave the stamping to Yukinoshita rather than to wait for Sagami’s approval.

Meguri must have been thinking the same thing, as she was hmming uncertainly. “If Yukinoshita doesn’t mind, then…” She gave Yukinoshita a searching glance.

For her part, Yukinoshita didn’t seem bothered. She nodded. “I don’t. From here on out, I will be making approvals.”

Sagami entrusted Yukinoshita with the stamp, and Yukinoshita immediately stamped my documents.

Now today’s operations were over. Right then, the bell rang.

“Right, I guess that’s it for today. I’ll lock the door, so all of you can leave before I do. Executives, please handle all the end-of-day checks.” Meguri gave her directions, and the student council swiftly scattered. The cultural committee was in charge of handling dismissal, so we couldn’t ignore Meguri and stay late. We quickly cleaned up and packed our things away, then left the conference room.

On the way to the front entrance, I saw Sagami having a friendly chat with her friends, and then she called out to us, too. “Hey, why don’t we all go out to eat after this? Hmm?” As she said it, she was really only looking at Hayama.

Hayama’s and Yuigahama’s eyes moved, apparently checking to see how everyone else was taking this. Yukinoshita noticed Yuigahama’s gaze flicking over to her, and she coolly replied, “I still have work to do.” I’m sure it wasn’t just an excuse, and she actually did have work. To say nothing of the additional task Sagami had just delegated to her. Her responsibilities and workload had increased along with that, too.

“Oh, of course, yeah, I got it,” said Sagami. “There’s no helping that.” (Translation: Listen, I was never inviting you in the first place.)

Apparently, my subtitles had yet to be disabled, as I could see right through to her underlying intentions. Don’t underestimate the power of the Jagan eye…

After Yukinoshita, I refused, too. “I’m going home.”

“Yeah, I gotcha.” (Translation: There’s no seat for your ass anyway!)

I’d known full well I wasn’t invited, but I’d figured it would be the right thing to do to give her a proper refusal. ’Cause I mean, look, forcing someone to say, U-um, so…what about you? You don’t have to come if you really don’t want to at the end is pretty harsh. So is hearing it. That wouldn’t make anyone happy. And why do I have to be roped into parties after work in the first place?

The ones Sagami was inviting were not me or Yukinoshita but the other two.

Perhaps because Yuigahama had already come to her decision, she hesitated as she spoke. “T-today isn’t so good for me, either… I have to go to a meeting for the play…”

“What? You’re not coming, Yui? Let’s gooo!” (Translation: Hey, if you don’t come, then Hayama won’t, either, will he? Eh?)

Whoops, one of those reactions was not like the others, was it? It was so brazen I started wondering if she’d been taking metalworking classes.

“Oh, there’s a stage meeting? I’ll go, too.” (Translation: I’m gonna jump at this chance, thanks.) Hayama gallantly took advantage of the opportunity to refuse Sagami’s offer.

And so Sagami reluctantly withdrew her suggestion. “Hmm… I gotcha… You’ve all got plans, huh? Another time, then.” (Translation: If Hayama isn’t coming, then I really don’t care.)

Though I was aware that reading between the lines was really no fun, I couldn’t help how it came across to me. To have a nature this rotten was a unique ability.

Sagami’s subtitles just didn’t want to disappear, right up until we all parted ways at the school entrance. Sagami wanted to walk some of the way home with Hayama, and even once we were outside, she dragged the conversation out.

Following after her and the others, I shoved on my shoes, too, and went outside.

The sunset was already long past, and the darkness of night had spread across the sky.

“Bye.” Yukinoshita bid her brief farewell and swiftly marched away. Her bag must have been heavy with all the papers she would have to take care of at home, as she was repeatedly adjusting it on her shoulder.

“Well, see you tomorrow, Hikki.” Yuigahama gave my shoulder a light pat and then dashed off. I guess she was going to her meeting. She had a lot on her plate, too.

I began pedaling my bicycle out of the sparsely populated parking lot.

The street lights were horribly overbright. I’d abused my eyes a lot that day. Subtitles really strain your eyes.

As my head filled with trivial thoughts, one more crossed my mind.

Oh yeah. For some people, those weird subtitles don’t show up at all, huh?