“I really suck at being a teacher...”
It was the middle of the night. The scene was the Kageishi residence’s courtyard, a traditional Japanese garden. I, Kageishi Sumire, sighed as I sat on the moonlit porch, staring at the light of the line of lanterns moving up the mountain path in the distance.
I wonder how many times I’d sighed since becoming an adult. When I was still a student, I only sighed when I was blown away by a fantastic piece of art featuring my favorite ship and it was too much to handle. I couldn’t remember when sighing became something that equated depression for me.
Aki’s question really hit home. Did I want to be a teacher, or did I want to be an illustrator? He made me pick there, on the spot. He was right that I needed to make a decision, which was why I found myself unable to argue.
I’d spent my whole life up until that point running away. I suppressed what I really wanted to do and—no, I pretended to suppress my true passions but just ended up following them in secret instead, which was cowardly.
I lied to a ton of people, and I betrayed my own feelings. Only when a bunch of kids almost ten years younger than me—my students—came to save me did I ever try to move forward. There were “bad teachers,” and then there was me.
I couldn’t let these negative feelings hold me back right now. That would just make me even more useless than I already was. I had to make full use of the opportunity Aki and Iroha-chan had given me.
Growing up, I was always taught to be a good little girl. To get better grades than anyone else, to be more polite than others, and to follow a straighter path than they did. And why shouldn’t I? Even if it felt restrictive, those were all good qualities, and so I had no right to argue.
I couldn’t believe that my grandfather and other relatives were hiding secrets like I was. They were too strict for that. Aki was right, though. If they did, they couldn’t argue with me taking hold of my own future. In fact, I would even be able to stand up to them, and ask how they had the right to be so strict with me when they couldn’t hold themselves to their own standards.
It never occurred to me that I might end up in a position like that. I realized Aki was always challenging my perspective on things ever since he invited me to join the Alliance. He broke down every rigid idea I had and every limit I decided to place on myself without batting an eyelid.
“Maybe that’s why I feel so at ease around him.”
I only ever used to be Murasaki Shikibu-sensei around a very select few. They were all people involved with my doujinshi circle, such as the girls who helped out at the booths. Nowadays, I was happy being Murasaki Shikibu-sensei among the Alliance members, including Iroha-chan and Mashiro-chan too. If those two hadn’t fallen for him...
“Maybe I could’ve gotten married to him and been happy.”
I was so taken in by his chivalry that I could well imagine that scenario. I had no intention of getting married at all, of course. I was happier being the houseplant that blended into the background. I didn’t want to get in the way of the love between two young people.
“Do you...like Aki, Sumire-sensei?” Mashiro-chan asked me.
“No. Well, I don’t dislike him. I just don’t like to ship myself with anyone.” I shook my head, not missing the tone of jealousy in her question.
“Oh. Good.”
She really didn’t need to worry as much as she did, though I guess that was all part of Mashiro-chan’s charm.
Wait.
“Mashiro-chan?! What are you doing here?!”
“I thought I’d help you find some evidence.”
As though summoned by my thoughts, Tsukinomori Mashiro-chan stepped out from behind the thick bushes of the courtyard. She wasn’t trying to hide the pout on her face, but it just made her look all the cuter with those leaves caught in her silvery-blonde hair.
“I want to help you finish up Aki’s mission and then I’m going to the shrine. I don’t like the idea of him and Iroha-chan being alone up there...”
“Mashiro-chan... Right. It’s my fault for getting you wrapped up in this mess. I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s not your fault.” There was still a sharpness to Mashiro-chan’s voice as she took her shoes off and joined me on the porch.
I happened to glance at her right hand. Her fingertips were ever so slightly swollen and red.
“Your hand...”
“Huh? Oh. Don’t worry about it. I’ve just been typing too much.”
Aki and the others told me Mashiro-chan happened to come to the village with her editor to help her make some deadlines. The news surprised me; I knew she was writing a novel, but I didn’t know she was good enough to get herself an editor.
I could tell by the blisters on her hands that this wasn’t some cringey teenage fanfiction she was writing; she was producing something for the real market.
“Does your editor know you’re here? I thought you were close to the deadline.”
“I snuck out through the window. Canary-san won’t come to check on me unless I call her, so I don’t think she’ll know I’m gone.”
“The window, huh? I never thought of that!”
“I think it’s too late for you, Shikibu. Your editor needs to trust you first.”
“I guess! I never keep deadlines, so Aki’s always keeping too close an eye—Wait, what?” I stopped laughing. Was it just my imagination, or...
“I-I’m sorry!” Mashiro-chan suddenly spoke up. “I-I meant to call you Sumire-sensei, but—”
“O-Oh, don’t worry about it. I wanna be one of those teachers who’s also your friend!”
We both reacted awkwardly, and I suddenly realized I didn’t often get the chance to speak to Mashiro-chan alone like this. The first time was when she had transferred to the school, and after that it had only been when we had the occasional student-teacher meeting. We only spoke about the regular stuff then too, like what her previous school or lifestyle had been like.
I had no idea about her likes and dislikes. What made her smile, or what made her angry. I didn’t know what to talk to her about now. Last week’s anime? My current favorite yaoi ship? Those topics were probably a little too familiar...
As the two of us searched the huge, traditional hall of the Kageishi residence, I tried desperately to come up with a good topic of conversation. I knew this wasn’t really the time for a lighthearted chat, but doing this in silence was just too awkward. I was still struggling to come up with something when Mashiro-chan suddenly took the initiative.
“You’re really mature, Sumire-sensei.”
“Huh? Well, maybe by some standards. I’d like to think I’m mature, anyway.”
“Then, I wanted to ask you something.” Mashiro-chan said, opening up and rummaging through the closet. “My editor said something really confusing. I don’t get it, but I’ve been trying to work it out for ages and I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“Ooh, is it something lewd? How dare your editor corrupt my pure little Mashiro-chan!”
“Shikibu.”
“Sorry, ma’am. I got overexcited.”
A wave of déjà vu suddenly washed over me.
Huh?
“My editor said if the Alliance keeps taking instead of giving, it’s going to crack. What did she mean?”
“The Alliance?”
It was a more serious topic of conversation than I had expected. That just meant I had to think things through seriously myself.
“Well, relationships like that are about give and take. If a relationship isn’t balanced in how much each party gives and gains, it’s going to break eventually. I guess that’s what your editor was getting at.”
“Give and take...”
“I think it might be kind of tough for teenagers to understand that sort of thing.”
“So do you have a give-and-take relationship with the Alliance?”
“I guess. Ooboshi-kun—well, Aki, made me a promise.”
He promised that he would get me a position at Honeyplace Works, one of the most competitive enterprises out there, and then he’d show my family that I wasn’t bound by their traditions anymore. My existence was one of the reasons he had to aim for us to join that company. I knew it wasn’t just about me, of course. But he was the one who had taken me by the hand and pulled me closer to my dream when I’d been trapped in a maelstrom of fear.
“What if the relationship wasn’t give and take anymore, then?” Mashiro-chan asked, cutting off my reminiscence.
“What?”
“Like, what if we find something now and manage to convince your grandfather to let you become an illustrator? What could the Alliance offer you then?”
“W-Well...” I fell silent. Her question was simple, but it pierced through me like a knife.
The 05th Floor Alliance was a loose gathering of people set up by a single high schooler. Not to brag, but I knew that if I quit being a teacher and became a freelance artist, I’d be overwhelmed with clients. If I was honest, there might not be anything the Alliance could offer me after that.
There was something else that concerned me more than that, though.
“Why do you ask, Mashiro-chan? Is there something on your mind?”
She sounded like she was the one involved in the Alliance. Like she was the one worried that she would stand to lose out in the future. I studied her carefully, but she stayed silent. She put a hand to her chest, and I could hear her breathing quicken slightly, as though she were anxious.
“I’m scared,” she said. “I’m scared of losing my connection to the Alliance. I know Aki will keep doing his best to include us, even if it damages the Alliance, though, because he’s amazingly kindhearted...”
“Mashiro-ch—”
“If you’re set free, the Alliance could be in trouble. It’ll be in danger of losing Murasaki Shikibu-sensei, its sole illustrator. But I know Aki will think that’s for the better. If it’ll lead to its members’ happiness, he’ll even disband the Alliance. That’s what I figure, from what I know about him.”
“Mashiro-chan...”
She knew him well, though I guess she was his cousin and fake girlfriend. She learned a lot about him ever since she transferred to our school. But even then, she spoke like she knew him much better than she should.
“That’s why I’m scared. If the Alliance disbands, I’ll lose my connection to Aki. I couldn’t bear it.”
“W-Wait, Mashiro-chan. What do you mean? You’re not even—”
“I know. Tsukinomori Mashiro isn’t in the Alliance. I have another name, though, and that person is a member.”
Mashiro’s face was pale with fear for her future. She looked straight into my eyes, as though doing her best to work past that terror. Crushed by the weight of her gaze, I could do nothing but stare back at her and listen to her confession.
“My other name is...Makigai Namako.”