Epilogue:
Shiratama Riko of Class 1-F
FIVE DAYS PASSED. JUST LONG ENOUGH TO LOOK back and shudder at just how stupid what we’d done had been. Up until recently, my philosophy had been to mind my own business. Never rock the boat. My high school career would be an unremarkable one. Little did I know my second year would open with a heist.
I pedaled up to my house and parked. Two weeks. The lit club had been relatively disbanded for two weeks. That was to be our punishment. I thought we’d pulled off a relatively clean operation, but I’d forgotten one very important thing: Komari. Komari had barged right in without a disguise to help us escape. It was no wonder that’d come back to bite us. Despite our best excuses—that being it was all part of a surprise Shiratama-san had been planning, which the venue staff actually bought—the Tsuwabuki faculty who were very much there at the time weren’t forgiving.
What did being “relatively disbanded” entail? What did it mean? I did not know. Neither did anybody else.
“I’m home,” I announced. I noticed many pairs of shoes at the door and sighed. Reluctantly, I trudged into the living room.
“Took ya long enough, Nukumizu-kun.”
“B-be better.”
Greeting me were the faces of the lit club, Yanami and Komari. One thing relative disbandment did, apparently, entail was revoked access to our club room. Making my house our new meeting spot for whatever reason.
Shiratama-san trotted over and took my bag for me. “Evening, President. They’re throwing me a welcome party!”
“Huh. That’s nice,” I said. “Er, I can get my own coat.”
“Please, it’s my pleasure. I’ll just go hang this up.”
Shiratama Riko was our newest face. An official member of the literature club. Nothing like a do-or-die situation to forge and strengthen bonds.
“Breaking news, hot air moving in from the north,” Yanami droned. “Wind speeds over five meters per second.”
“H-hope your head pops,” Komari added. All in the name of friendship, of course. The banter was naturally a testament to our bonds. As was the fact that she had helped herself to my secret stash of manga, and that Yanami was eating my pudding.
Wasn’t it just heartwarming?
“Nukkun’s back? Hey!” Yakishio appeared, drying her hair with a towel. Her excuse for being here was that the run from school made a good warm up, apparently. Which was all well and good, but I wished she’d stop borrowing our shower. For my heart.
Shiratama-san handed her a glass of tea. “For you, Yakishio-san.”
“You’re the best, Tama-chan!” She chugged it down, then sat at the dining table with Yanami and Komari.
I didn’t have it in me to insert myself, so I took a spot on the couch. From behind me, I smelled something sweet.
“The cheesecake is done!” Kaju emerged from the kitchen with a big ol’ cake in her hands. Yanami cheered.
I looked down at my phone. Message from Konuki-sensei. Apparently, we had a lot to thank her for regarding the whole relative disbandment thing. It would have been no surprise for them to hit us with the full thing, but for how unlucky it was that faculty from both schools had been at the venue, it ended up being a blessing in disguise. Among them had been…acquaintances of Konuki-sensei’s. I didn’t ask. Too scary.
“Gotta remember to thank her properly,” I mumbled.
In any case, the message was about potential house visits. Being the supervisor of a club that was ambiguously on the brink, I figured she wanted a way to stay connected to her students.
As I started to fiercely type out a firm “no” so I could get some of that cake, an email notification dropped down from the top of my screen. It was from Shiratama-san, and it came with an attachment. Looked like a story of some kind.
“Better get your butt over here, or there won’t be any left!” Yanami said to me.
“Don’t wait up,” I replied. “Go on and eat.”
I opened the file.