4.4
“You’re empty-handed?”
Horikita, the water-bottle woman, glared at me, but it didn’t matter. There was nothing I could do.
“I wanted to fetch some from my room, but I’ve already used all of my water.”
This tragedy was born of multiple misfortunes.
“So, what are we going to do now?”
“If you’re okay with it, we could ask Ike or Sudou for water.”
“Pass,” she replied.
I’d thought that was how she’d reply.
“I could lie and say it’s for me.”
“I’m opposed to using any water they might have. Who knows what they’ve put in it?” she muttered.
She was treating them like harmful germs or something. I wanted to disagree, but lacked the confidence. Those guys did tend to leave uncovered tea and water
lying around. They’d probably try to rustle up clean water for Horikita’s sake, but they might be a lot less considerate if I said I wanted water. Friendly malice was a diabolical thing.
“Okay. Want to try one more time?”
“Yes. Even if it hurts,” she replied.
Horikita offered her right arm, bracing herself. She wanted her freedom as soon as possible. I saw sweat trickle down her arm.
“Okay, I’m going to get a really good grip on it.”
I wanted to free Horikita and return to my own room, so I grabbed the water bottle tightly, putting myself in a ridiculous pose. I pulled twice as hard as I had the last time. Horikita looked as though she was in agony, but endured it without complaint. However, the bottle didn’t budge.
“I guess we really do need water,” I said.
The bottle probably wasn’t going to come off unless we made Horikita’s arm slippery. If it was stuck after that, we might need to contact emergency services.
“You’re telling me to wait until twelve? Like this?”
“Well, the only reliable guy left is Hirata,” I said.
“I wouldn’t have any concerns about the quality of Hirata’s water, but…I dislike the idea of owing him a debt,” replied Horikita.
“Well, I’ll say I’m the one who needs water, for appearance’s sake. It won’t be your problem,” I told her.
“I suppose that’s true,” she answered.
Horikita still sounded somewhat dissatisfied, but appeared to accept the fact that you can’t make an omelet without breaking eggs. I tried to call Hirata. No matter how many times the phone rang, however, he didn’t pick up. Even when I tried to send him a chat message, it went unread.
“Maybe he’s asleep. I’m not getting a response.”
“I see. My emotions are a mixture of joy and despair,” she replied.
“Well, we probably don’t have any other options. I think we can only rely on Kushida or Sakura.”
“Please ask Sakura-san,” replied Horikita immediately.
“Are you still on bad terms with Kushida?”
“There’s no reason for us to get along. Besides, there are still quite a few things about her that I can’t accept,” she said.
“What do you mean, ‘can’t accept’?”
“The test on the ship. She abandoned the idea of trying to win right from the start. She wanted the Dragon group to end with a draw.”
Horikita crossed her arms as she recalled the events of the previous test. Unfortunately, she still had her hand stuck in the bottle, so her declaration lacked impact.
“That’s because she’s a pacifist. She was probably choosing the option where everyone ended up happy,” I reasoned.
“I had no intention of completely rejecting Outcome #1. But it was something entirely different for the VIP herself to steer us toward it,” Horikita answered sharply.
During the test, students had been separated into twelve groups. We’d played a game where we had to discover the hidden identity of a chosen VIP within each group, with four possible outcomes in total. The most difficult outcome to achieve was Outcome #1, which required everyone in the group to discover the VIP’s identity and wait till the assigned time to submit their answers, without anyone betraying the group by turning in an answer early. The group that achieved Outcome #1 would have 500,000 private points awarded to each member, and a million private points awarded to its VIP.
The only drawback to Outcome #1 was that the VIP’s class wasn’t awarded any class points. That had caused some discord. Kushida hadn't taken advantage of the privileges that came with being a VIP, and Horikita hated that.
“Kushida being our group’s VIP gave Class D the advantage. All we had to do was keep the VIP’s identity hidden, but everyone found out that Kushida-san was the VIP. I think that Kushida herself had something to do with that.”
“But that’s just speculation on your part.”
“Yes. The possibility remains, though. Therefore, I assume she’s guilty.”
Horikita’s words grew forceful. I understood how she felt, but the seriousness was lessened, since Horikita’s arm was still stuck in that water bottle. I needed to tread carefully.
“I understand how you feel, but that won’t do,” I said.
“You mean, me saying all this without any evidence?”
“I’m saying that situation was your responsibility, too. Let’s assume that, yes, Kushida betrayed us. If so, then you’re at fault for allowing her to betray us. You have to win at all costs. Am I wrong?”
Horikita seemed to understand what I meant. Nevertheless, she objected. “Don’t be absurd. Don’t you understand how unrealistic that is?”
“Unrealistic? I can’t imagine why it would be. If Kushida did manipulate you all into Outcome #1, that’s honestly amazing. In other words, she completely outdid you in the exam.”
Of course, this was all assuming that Kushida had truly betrayed the Dragon group. Honestly, it’d probably been Ryuuen or Katsuragi. I didn’t know which. Either way, someone with more power had forced everyone in the Dragon group into a certain outcome. Still, the fact remained that Horikita had been outsmarted.
“The VIP was in your class. If you didn’t act because you were confident in your victory, then the responsibility lies with the people on your team. If you’re aiming for Class A, you need to be able to manage people better,” I added.
“You’re talking about very complicated things,” Horikita countered.
“I understand that you’re frustrated. But this is the path you chose. Besides, you’re maturing. If I’d said the same thing to you when we first met, you wouldn’t have listened to me at all.”
That was true. Slowly, Horikita was beginning to think like an adult. She was no longer a girl who rejected everything around her on instinct.
“I understand. I accept the test results. Perhaps I was too optimistic. But, right now, my main objective is getting my arm free,” she huffed.
“I suppose I’ll see if Sakura can help.”
Since it was getting late, I decided to reach out to Sakura using chat.
Sakura, my room is out of drinking water. The vending machine is sold out, too. Would you mind sharing with me?
I waited for a while after sending the message, but saw no indication that Sakura had read it.
“No good. I don’t know if she’s asleep or what.”
“Honestly, today is just not my day,” Horikita sighed.
“I take it you want the bottle off right now?”
“If I planned to wait, I wouldn’t have called you.”
“Then you have to take a risk, too,” I said.
“Risk?” Horikita was instantly wary.
“We’ll head to Keyaki Mall for water. There’s no other way.”
“So, that’s our final option.” Horikita put her hand to her forehead. Honestly, no matter what tragic pose she assumed, she still looked ridiculous.
“Most people are eating right now, so this is our chance.” As a matter of fact, I hadn’t bumped into any of our classmates this evening.
“I can’t take the risk. Can’t you ask one of your friends?” she urged.
“Unfortunately, I can’t. I think they made plans to go out for karaoke. They’re not here.”
“This is not my day,” she sighed.
“Let’s get this over with, then.”
“W-wait. I really can’t go outside like this,” said Horikita.
“In that case, do you want to hide your hand? I guess it’s already hidden in a water bottle,” I joked.
“That was completely unnecessary,” she snapped, and raised her hand as if to strike.
“O-okay, I get it. Please put your hand down. Do you have a cloth or something?”
“Cloth? If a handkerchief counts, I have one.” Horikita pulled a white handkerchief off the shelf. I placed it over the water bottle.
“This looks painfully suspicious. It’s not large enough to cover everything.”
“Don’t you have anything bigger?” I asked.
“Will a bath towel do?”
I placed the towel over her arm. “Well, I guess this works.”
Honestly, I suspected the bath towel might make her stand out even more.
“If the towel’s even a little lopsided, it’ll fall off,” said Horikita.
“Well, can’t you hold it with your free hand?”
Horikita folded the bath towel and held it to her body, giving the impression that she was about to take a bath. Yeah, that looked way better.
“If someone were to see me, what kind of impression would they get?” she asked.
“Hmm…”
No one would normally walk around the dorms with a bath towel, nor take one outside. People would be suspicious.
“Depending on the situation, I suppose they might think you were going to use my bathtub,” I suggested. That might have been a leap of logic, but that was the way I saw it.
“Rejected.”
Horikita took the towel off. I supposed that I didn’t really want anyone to think that about us, either.
“How about putting your hand inside your bag?”
“Rejected. Can’t you think of anything better?” She was peerless when it came to complaining.
“Why don’t we just go there as we are? We’ll avoid worrying about a towel or handkerchief falling down.”
“I suppose so.”
All that was left for us was to act. I peeked into the hallway, taking a slightly hesitant Horikita with me.
“Okay, no sign of anyone. Let’s go,” I said.
“W-wait a minute. I still haven’t put my shoes on.”
Because Horikita could only use one hand, putting on her shoes took quite a bit of time. Finally, the two of us stepped out into the hallway.
“Wait. There’s a faucet on the path to school, right? If we make it there, we’ll be okay.”
If we walked at a normal pace, we’d arrive at the faucet in about five minutes. We’d be fine under the cover of darkness, as long as we got out of the dormitory. We reached the elevators, but—
“It’s no use, Ayanokouji-kun. We can’t use them,” Horikita said.
“What?”
“There’s a surveillance monitor in the first-floor lobby, right? I don’t know who can see us on that.”
A monitor on the first floor did display whatever the elevator cameras captured. Horikita was concerned about being seen. Even if she managed to hide her arm, she couldn’t avoid looking mysterious.
“Should we take the stairs?”
That would probably take quite a bit of time. Also, the fact that Horikita couldn’t use one hand made it a little riskier.
“I’d rather take the stairs than let someone see me,” she confessed.
Horikita chose pride over safety. Two emergency stairwells were each located an equal distance from the elevators. No matter which we took, we’d have to pass students’ rooms again. There was no getting around that.
I brought Horikita toward the stairwell. She stayed behind me, as if hiding herself from view. I was starting to agree with her words earlier. “This is not my day,” indeed.
I heard a door open about three rooms behind us.
“Th-this is bad. That’s Maezono-san’s room.”
Maezono from Class D, huh? There was no way for us to escape. However, Maezono didn’t leave the room. Instead, her friend Kushida stepped out. Another piece of bad luck for Horikita.
“Thank you, Kushida-san. I’ll return the favor next time!”
“Oh no, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Good night, Maezono-san.”
I didn’t see Maezono’s face. As the door closed with a ka-chak, Kushida headed toward the elevator without noticing me or Horikita.
“That was close,” Horikita said.
“Yeah.”
If Kushida had looked back, she would’ve noticed us. I was sweating an uncomfortable amount. We were far too conspicuous like this.
We headed to the emergency exit as quickly as possible, but I heard Maezono’s door open once again.
“Kushida-san, you forgot something!” Maezono shouted as she stepped outside. Kushida turned.
“Ah, Ayanokouji-kun. Horikita-san. Good evening.”
“Y-yeah.”
Our exchange was brief. It seemed as though Kushida wanted to check on what she forgot. She headed back toward Maezono, and Maezono inevitably noticed us as well. Horikita froze.
“You forgot your phone!”
“Ah, sorry. Thanks! You’re a lifesaver.”
“Let’s get going, Ayanokouji-kun. There’s no need for us to linger,” said Horikita. She pushed the water bottle against my back, emphasizing that this was our chance.
If Horikita were seen in this state, her pride would be utterly demolished. We reached the emergency exit, and I tried to open the door.
“It won’t open.”
“You’re joking, right? There’s no way an emergency exit door wouldn’t open, is there?”
“I’m serious. It won’t open.” Locking an emergency exit was normally prohibited, which meant…
“Where are you going?”
Oh no. Kushida approached us.
“Oh, uh. We were just thinking of taking the stairs.”
That was the best answer I could give.
“Oh? But the power’s out in the east emergency stairwell right now. I’m pretty sure it isn’t usable. It’d be really dangerous to go downstairs in pitch darkness. I think the west stairs are okay, though.”
“So, that’s why it’s locked. Huh,” I said.
Horikita said nothing, continuing to hide behind my back.
“Horikita seems to be acting differently than usual. Is something the matter?” asked Kushida. She kept moving toward us, overshooting her room.
Horikita raised her voice. “Nothing’s wrong!” she replied curtly.
Her bluntness worked. Kushida stopped.
“I see. Well, if something’s troubling you, please tell me. Okay? Maezono-san was in trouble earlier because she had no water. I have more than enough,” said Kushida.
Kushida had what we wanted most of all. If Horikita could only ask for her help, she’d get water quite easily.
However, Horikita pushed the water bottle into my back like the muzzle of a gun. She didn’t want Kushida’s help.
“Well then, good night to you both,” Kushida said sweetly.
“Yeah, ’night.”
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