I didn’t want to take part in any ceremony that was going to cause Sumire needless guilt. Nor did I want to end up married to her. I didn’t mind signing a bit of paper if it meant she’d stick to her deadlines, but being forced into a traditional relationship with kids was something I wasn’t prepared to accept.
I felt a gentle tug at my sleeve and looked down.
“Please don’t take part in that ceremony.”
It was Mashiro. Though she was staring at the floor, I could tell how strongly she felt. I could only grunt in response, not sure what to say when she laid her feelings bare to me like that. Cue my stomach getting pinched from the other side.
“Don’t tell me you’re gettin’ all excited! For shame, Senpai!”
“I’m not!”
“Don’t forget what you said about giving up your teenage years for—” Iroha began in my ear.
“I know!”
She was right. This wasn’t the time to lose my composure. Don’t worry, Iroha. Everything I did was for the Alliance. Everything I did was in the pursuit of the greatest and most efficient future possible.
“There’s something that’s been on my mind ever since we started this whole fake engagement.”
Who cares about some superstitious ceremony? This “Ceremony of Knots” and its perfect success rate weren’t the issue here. Now wasn’t the time to be worrying about whether we’d be married against our will. This was about one thing, and one thing only:
Kageishi Sumire, and which future she’d choose for herself.
“A question, Sumire-sensei.”
“What?” Sumire asked, her voice quivering. I felt bad for her, but I couldn’t let up now.
“If you really feel bad for Iroha and Mashiro, then there’s only one thing left for you to do. So why don’t you do it?”
“Wh—B-Because...” The hot flush of her teary face faded into white, and she bit her lip.
“What are you talking about, Senpai?” Iroha blinked at me.
“It’s simple. The only reason we’re threatened by this ceremony is because we told Sumire-sensei’s family that we’re engaged. This is an issue of our own making. The fastest way out of it is for Sumire-sensei to accept responsibility and admit the truth.”
“But then she’ll have to marry someone she’s never even met! That’ll make things even worse than they are now!”
“That’s her problem. She shouldn’t have wasted the best part of her twenties obsessing over a fictional five-year-old. She just has to face reality now. That’s what it means to grow up.”
“Senpai, that’s way too harsh!” Iroha glared at me.
Sumire avoided my gaze, her lips pressed together in a tight line. I had no intention of taking back what I said. Even if she wasn’t going to look at me, I kept my eyes on Sumire’s, waiting for her response.
Speak. Tell us how you really feel.
The choice wasn’t between taking part in the ceremony or turning her back on it. The choice was whether she was going to continue on her path as a teacher, or become an illustrator. She must have realized it by now.
Was she willing to keep up this farce and hurt Mashiro (and, in her mind, Iroha)?
Or was she going to make the right choice by Mashiro (and, in her mind, Iroha) and according to her values as an educator?
I wasn’t going to let her get away without a clear response. If I needed to, I was ready to cut Murasaki Shikibu-sensei out of the Alliance for good.
“I...” Sumire’s arms trembled. Tears poured down her cheeks. I had long since learned that her tears were cheap, spilling over whenever she was even slightly perturbed. These tears were different. They came from a place deep within her. “No.”
That was her answer.
“I don’t want to get married. I don’t want to have to worry what other people think, day after day, with no time to draw.” There was no doubt in her words. This was what Murasaki Shikibu-sensei truly believed. They poured out along with her tears. “I want to draw. I want to keep drawing!”
This entire fake engagement seemed so silly, but now I realized how serious the situation was to her. If she got married to a man picked out by her family, it was likely he would report everything she did to her grandfather. She wouldn’t be able to keep drawing her doujinshi, because she risked her family finding out about them. Much as she tried to hide it by fooling around, the thought that her illustration career would end terrified her, and she had been battling with that fear the entire time.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Iroha-chan. Mashiro-chan. I’m too selfish to call myself your teacher. But I want to keep drawing. No matter what, I want to keep drawing.”
This wasn’t our calm and collected teacher. Nor was it the over-the-top fool who lacked social skills. This was a pure young girl, who wanted nothing more than to follow her own dreams. This was who Murasaki Shikibu-sensei really was.
When I had scouted her for the Alliance, I spotted that exact same vulnerability in her. She’d been terrified that I might report her activities to the school and she’d have to stop drawing. She wouldn’t be able to express herself. That was what scared her. That was why I promised to force her away from her family and set her free.
“Your answer has strengthened my resolve, Murasaki Shikibu-sensei.”
“Huh?”
“I’m going to fulfill that promise I made to you. I’m going to free you from the bonds of your family, though it’s happening earlier than I expected,” I said, placing my hands on her shoulders. I then removed them, sunk to my knees, and bowed deeply. “I’m sorry for testing you. We can’t afford to fail the mission I’m about to propose, so I needed to make sure you were ready to give it your all. But I’m sorry for making you cry.”
“Aki...”
“Punch me. I know it’s selfish, but it’ll help me move on.”
“Wh-What are you talking about?” Sumire asked, perplexed.
I looked up at her, sure that my eyes were alight with my determination.
Sumire looked away again and mumbled, “I couldn’t hit you, and I don’t need to. I can forgive you without doing something like that.”
“Huh. Well, that’s kinda a relief.” I felt my tense facial muscles slacken as I realized I wasn’t about to get punched in the face. I know I asked her to do it, but bracing myself against the pain was only human. If she wasn’t going to punch me, then I guess I could just owe her—
“Take that!”
“GWOOORGH!”
The fist of judgment came down on me from a different direction entirely. Wait, fist was the wrong word. It wasn’t a slap either. It was a heavy, torturous, and sharp jab right in the pressure point at the base of my neck.
“Fuck’s sake, Iroha!”
“Omigod, it totally worked! Sorry, Senpai! I just thought you looked a little stiff!”
“S-Since when do you know about pressure points?”
“It’s called learning by observation. You’re always going after them, right?”
“Why don’t you learn some of my upstanding manners while you’re at it?!”
Her elbow dug into that same spot, sending pain shooting through my shoulder.
Iroha bent down and whispered into my ear. “There, now you’ve been punished for what you did to Sumire-chan-sensei. You don’t gotta worry about a thing anymore, so go ahead and tell us your plan.”
“Iroha...”
She knew what I was thinking? She knew me too well. So well that it pissed me off. Thanks, Iroha. (No, that last part wasn’t sarcasm)
“All right, listen up. Iroha, we need your help for this plan. If you mess up, it’s all over.”
“Ooh! You need me?”
“Sure do.”
Iroha let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, I guess I could pitch in just this once! But it’s not like I wanna help you, you know!”
“Could you try and be a little more serious? Uh, but yeah. Thanks.” I turned away from her and addressed everyone in the room as gravely as I could. “We’re going to convince Kageishi Kou-san, the head of the Kageishi family, to set Murasaki Shikibu-sensei free. And I need every last one of you helping out.”
✦ ✦ ✦
“Finally gettin’ off your ass and doing something, huh?”
“Yeah, I’ve made up my mind. I’m not gonna let Sumire-sensei’s family stand in her way anymore.”
“You make it sound so easy. Are you sure you’re up to it?”
“I dunno.”
“Also, Tsukinomori-san was looking like she wanted to kill you when Iroha was clinging to you.”
“G-Great...”