Tuesday was a national holiday, so we got the day off. Then we returned to school on Wednesday. The club application deadline was Friday. I was out of time.
According to everyone I asked, most people had already submitted their forms, and many were already attending club activities as provisional members. But as for me, I was still scrutinizing all the flyers I’d received from the ten-plus clubs I’d visited.
Every now and then, someone would ask me what club I’d chosen, and I’d tell them I was still trying to decide. Then they’d ask which clubs I was torn between, and I’d list off all the clubs I visited: ping-pong, brass band, tennis, and so on. No one ever openly criticized me for failing to narrow down my candidates, but it wasn’t a good thing.
Here at Yamaboshi, picking the wrong club was a critical error. And now I was terrified to make the wrong choice—
Then I realized: The bell was ringing. I looked up and checked the clock. It was past 3, and school was now over. What did I do all day long? I couldn’t remember. I hadn’t paid attention in any of my classes. Meanwhile, the other students all filed out of the room.
“Let’s get going!”
“Uggghhh, I don’t wanna do warm-ups...”
“We just joined and you’re bored already?!”
“Guess what? Senpai’s going to let us hold the instruments today!”
“Finally!”
A lot of people seemed to be headed to club practice; none of them were going straight home. They all had a goal in mind... and now I was alone, with nowhere to belong.
It was too awkward to visit any clubs now. There was only one option left: to go home. And once I got home, I needed to sit down and pick one of the clubs I’d visited, even if I had to close my eyes and pick at random.
But at this stage, the mere act of leaving campus was now a social transgression. I didn’t want other people to see me going straight home, and if I didn’t want to stick out, I’d have to wait around until more people left... I felt so pathetic.
What was I supposed to do? What did I want to do? I had waited and waited, but there was still no sign of an answer.
April had ended, and now May had begun. Soon there would be no going back.
In middle school, it had only taken about a month for the dust to settle. And as I recalled, nothing ever really changed after that. Was my high school career already set in stone?
Bit by bit, the students dwindled... and once the number of people in the room had reached a single digit, I rose to my feet.
Outside the school building, the sky was cloudless and clear. Bitterly, I cursed the sun. I hated the way it bestowed its light upon all people equally. If only I had my own personal cloud to keep me in the shade.
Meanwhile, everyone else was having a grand old time, enjoying the sunny weather with the rest of their clubs, and it made me want to scream. Not at anyone or anything in particular — I just wanted to fling these emotions back at the world that had inflicted them on me.
NOTICE ME! I’M RIGHT HERE!
I opened my mouth wide... but no sound came, so I closed it again. In the end, it was just a fantasy. I would never deviate from the predetermined path I was assigned to.
If I wasn’t careful, my whole life would end up like this... On second thought, it would probably end up like this no matter what. I could picture it, and the mental image was funny.
I wasn’t capable of change. This was simply the hand I was dealt. And now I was going home.
Along with a handful of other students, I hurried to the front gates. The peak of club recruitment season had long since passed, and the road was quiet... but there were still two people handing out flyers.
“Join the CRC!”
“If... if there’s anyone who’s still undecided, feel free to come check us out!”
It was Uwa and Enjouji from the Cultural Research Club. As I walked straight toward the gates, our eyes naturally met.
I didn’t want them asking me any questions, so instead I took the initiative myself.
“How did it go on Monday?”
“Well... we had a lot of fun with our senpai and all the people who visited,” Enjouji answered. But the gloomy look on her face told me everything I needed to know.
“But no one decided to join? Wait, but... isn’t that a major problem?”
Why was I worried when it was none of my business? Maybe I just wanted to commiserate.
“To be clear, we do have some prospects,” Uwa cut in hastily. “We just don’t have any clear confirmation from anyone. After all, the forms get submitted to the teachers, not to us.”
“That, and we haven’t exactly been forceful about making people join us... We’ve just left the decision up to them...”
I could feel their struggle, but their strange sense of duty seemed to be causing more harm than good. If they simply sat back and let the students come to them, they’d inevitably lose those potential members to other clubs who were more aggressive. Sure, a lot of people had a clear-cut idea of what kind of club they wanted, but it was still fairly common for people to join a club on the spur of the moment — because it seemed fun, or because their friends joined.
“You’re allowed to be a little more aggressive, you know. The third-years all seem really popular. If you start pushing people around a little more, you’ll get the numbers you need to keep the club alive.”
Why was I having this conversation with them? I didn’t understand.
“No. That’s not acceptable,” Enjouji argued. “If they only join because we want them to, they won’t have a fun time.”
“...Aren’t your members supposed to craft their own fun? Isn’t that how your whole club works?” I asked sarcastically. But Uwa took my words at face value.
“Yes, that’s true. The CRC is a place where you can discover your true passions. But you have to want to look for them, or else... it won’t really work out.”
Their club had practically zero structure, and yet they talked as though there were some unspoken rules. Once again, I found myself wondering: What exactly is the point of this club?
“Honestly, I don’t expect anyone to understand what the CRC is.”
“Then why did you join it?”
I had to ask. What else could I have said?
“Because I saw the potential.”
“Was it those five third-years?”
“Yeah... Well, no, maybe not.”
“Wait, what? It wasn’t them?” asked Enjouji.
“I mean, sure, I saw the potential in them, and in the club itself. But looking back, more than anything, I saw the potential in myself.”
Inner potential?
“After all, the world is what you make of it,” Uwa grinned, and I could tell he believed every word.
“Oh god! Chihiro-kun’s acting like he conveniently forgot the part where he made an ass of himself, then got schooled by the rest of us! Just look at that arrogant — OW!”
I told them I’d forgotten something back in the classroom, then turned back and hurried to the school building, staring down at the ground as I walked.
I couldn’t bring myself to go home. Uwa’s voice kept reverberating in my head: potential. What “potential”? I’d been looking for new potential the whole time, but then it never freaking showed up. So where the hell was it? In other people? In the school? In the clubs? In myself? Where was I supposed to go?
I was pretty much just wandering aimlessly. And since I didn’t have a set destination, I followed the path I was most accustomed to, leading me right back to my classroom.
The halls were dim and practically empty. What was the point in me going back there? Would I find something? No way. If something was there, surely I would have found it by now—
Then, I saw the light.
It wasn’t a flipped switch, nor was it a shift in the sun’s rays. A lone girl was walking my way, her long, silky hair fluttering with the motions.