She didn’t know what kind of job it was, but it sounded important, so she didn’t press the issue. They didn’t have a choice but to keep working on their decorating job.
And so that bloody last night of preparations ended, and the morning of the day arrived. The opening ceremony took place on a specially built stage in the courtyard under a clear blue sky.
It was a finely built stage. Banners had been hung up over the courtyard beside the flags of various countries, streamers, and ribbons decorating the school building. There were speeches from the executive committee head and the health committee heads, too.
Then the PA committee member acting as MC said, “Okay, next we have some words from the head of school security and aide to the student council president. Sagara-san, take it away.”
Sousuke took to the lectern under the eyes of all. “I am the aide to the president,” Sousuke said into the mic. “We’ve been blessed with good weather today, and the culture festival will proceed without issue. I cannot tell you how pleased I am. But in order to enjoy the event, please heed my next words regarding the open house period.” He cleared his throat, took out a sheet of paper and began to read aloud.
The students gathered in the courtyard breezeways and on the rooftop watched him curiously.
“First, if you see any suspicious figures, please report them immediately. Do not approach. The student council SWAT team will take care of it. If you see a suspicious object, report it immediately. Do not touch it. The student council bomb squad will take care of it.”
The students looked on, dumbstruck.
“Next,” he continued, “do not bring any objects of a length of more than fifty centimeters to the roof. If you break this rule, it will be assumed that you’re carrying a sniper rifle, and you’ll be shot to death on sight.”
The students continued to look on, dumbstruck.
“Additionally, anti-personnel mines have been planted around the school perimeter to prevent unlawful entry. Please see the detailed diagram of mine layout on the sheet provided with your pamphlets. Also, two dobermans at the front gate will attack anyone who might be smuggling in explosives. Please be advised, they are trained to go for the throat. These measures were taken in the interest of security and terrorism prevention. Anyone caught breaking them or causing any kind of trouble should be prepared for the consequences.”
A mood ill befitting a festival settled over the crowd.
Here, Sousuke wrapped it up. “That is all. Now, have a fun culture festival, everyone.”
“As if!” Kaname, who had been quietly watching in her capacity as vice president from the back, suddenly charged and kicked him off the stage. “Is that the job you spent all night on?! You were planting mines?!”
“It was quite difficult,” he told her.
“Oh, shut up! And you did all that without helping our class... you creep!” she said, leaping off the stage after him and standing astride him.
The MC eyed Kaname as he said, “Um... A-Anyway, let’s have a word from the president.”
Hayashimizu stepped up and spoke into the mic. “Testing, testing. I hereby declare the 49th Annual Jindai High Festival open.”
“Um... is that all?” the MC asked.
“That is all, yes,” said Hayashimizu. It was as barebones a declaration as could be imagined. The students, shaken out of their daze, let out a cheer and headed off to their own exhibits.
After lecturing Sousuke and neutralizing all the mines, calling off the guard dogs, and returning to Class 2-4... Kaname learned that the café still wasn’t ready to go.
They’d truly worked at it all night, but there was just no fighting the EC. The room was still strewn with lumber and construction paper, and they hadn’t even finished the entrance sign. They hadn’t set up the cooking space, the wall decorations, or even the menu. It was as far from the café they’d originally envisioned as could be.
“How’s it going?” Kaname asked.
Kyoko, who’d skipped the entrance ceremony to focus on preparations, just groaned in response. “It’s no use,” she said. “I’m not sure we’ll even be done by noon...” The students of Class 4 all looked at Kaname in exhaustion. The classroom they’d been allotted was still sixty percent ready at best. “I’m really not sure how it could possibly work out...”
The whole class slouched and sighed, but kept on working regardless.
In the morning after the culture festival started, Onodera, who went to scout out Class 7, came running back.
“How was it, Ono-D?”
“Amazing,” he told them. “I just looked in and the place is packed. The decorations look amazing. And the waitresses...”
“The waitresses?”
“They’re wearing aprons over swimsuits.”
Kaname gasped.
“The people are loving it,” Onodera went on. “The costume café thing was just a front. It’s basically a lingerie pub. And for the female patrons, the waiters are wearing aprons over swimsuits too. And they’re all totally hot!”
“Th-That’s so sneaky!” Kaname was too disgusted to say anything more than that. After Tomita had said in the first term that ‘cosplay’ would give parents the wrong impression, now his own class was wearing aprons over swimsuits!
“We can’t win by fighting fair. If only we’d fought back with a no-panties café...” Onodera said.
Kaname glared at him. “It’s not too late. Why don’t you spearhead that one yourself?”
“Hmm? You wanna see it? Wanna see it?” Onodera started working on unbuckling his belt.
Kaname knocked him out flat and then let out a sigh. “Ahh... Looks like Class 4 is a loser this year. I hate being the victim of a dirty trick like that, but it is what it is.”
The whole group sank upon hearing Kaname’s words.
Realizing that her admission was depressing morale, she worked hard to put on a cheerful front. “But... oh, you know! We did call in our friends from other schools! So we should at least make it look nice for the people who are coming to see us!”
“Right...” they all said despondently.
“I’m gonna work hard and make up some awesome sweets for us to serve tomorrow. Even if we give up on the after party, we can still do a good job, okay?”
“Yeah...”
“Okay, so let’s hurry! Our friends from other schools are on the way!” Kaname clapped her hands and the rest of them went back to their jobs.
“It’s weird, though,” Kyoko muttered. “My middle school friends should’ve been here by now. I definitely asked them to fill seats here. But there’s no sign of them yet...”
“You too, Kyoko?” Shiori, another girl in the class, said. “My friends said they’d come in the morning too. I’ve been trying to call them, but I can’t get through.”
“You too, Shiori?” Kyoko said
“Yeah, me too,” said a boy. “It’s weird.”
A few other students nodded in agreement. Nobody’s friends have shown up to the culture festival yet? Kaname wondered suspiciously.
Sousuke, beside her, tilted his head, thinking. “I see... So it wasn’t just me.”
“You called friends too, Sousuke?
“That was the rule, wasn’t it? I put in a few calls last week through every route I could.”
“Not to Mithril people, was it?” Kaname whispered.
“Actually, Mithril is busy testing the just-repaired submarine. The colonel seemed truly disappointed about missing it... but regardless, none of them are coming.”
“Uh-huh...”
“Instead, I called old friends not involved in my current line of work. The last time I spoke to them, they all said they were nearby, but...”
“Your old friends?”
“Yes,” he told her. “From my mercenary days.”
“They’re here?”
“I believe so.”
A strange atmosphere had fallen over Tomita’s Class 7 café, and not at all the good kind—it was as if the smell of gunpowder hung over the proceedings.
The majority of the people there weren’t teenagers. They weren’t even Japanese. White, Black, Asian... Some Arabic, some Latino. They were all dressed in street clothes, but seemed to have a few things in common: their gazes were shrewd, and although they weren’t smiling, they were still strangely polite. They had large, muscular bodies and seemed to have things hidden under their jackets and around their ankles. They had their attention focused on their surroundings at all times, and were sitting in such a way that they could rise from their seats at a moment’s notice.
In other words, they were all just like the “problem student” of Class 2-4.
“E-Excuse me...” a waitress said timidly.
“What?” a middle-aged man of African descent replied in English, his brow furrowing. In addition to his Jindai High Festival pamphlet, he was holding a sightseeing map of Kyoto for some reason. “Excuse me, Miss. I’d like to see Sergeant Seagal. Where is he—”
“Oh, er... E-Excuse me!” The terrified girl retreated into the back of the shop, crying.
Tomita and the others watched, faces pale, and began to argue urgently.