“It’s not enough to warrant a conversation. I happened to hear that you have no plans at present to appear as a representative. I just wanted to confirm whether or not that was true,” he said.
“It depends on Horikita’s plans, but as of right now, I don’t plan to, no,” I replied.
Despite getting the same answer I’d given in my previous statement, Kanzaki’s facial expression turned somewhat stern.
“Is that true?” he asked.
“I thought I already answered your question, but you don’t seem to believe me,” I replied.
“We are in direct competition with each other this time, of course,” he said. “It is not necessary for you to tell me the entire truth in this conversation, and it’s not for us to decide whether you do or do not appear as a representative. It’s just that… Ichinose wants to believe what you’ve said. Or rather, I should say she does believe you.”
While I could interpret what he said as a reserved, modest statement, it also showed some bullishness. It sounded like Ichinose was the source of his information after all. I didn’t pay any mind to that part, and just let it slide.
“I would like to believe you as well, but…” began Kanzaki.
Still, Kanzaki tried to ascertain the credibility of my statements. I told him already that there wasn’t any deep meaning to what I was saying here, but he was insistent.
“Perhaps there’s some reason you don’t believe what I’m saying? It sounds like you’re questioning me because you have some kind of basis for thinking I might be a representative,” I replied.
“…Well, no, I…” Kanzaki began to deny it, but then he stopped to think, and then restated his position.
“It’s just hearsay. I’ve heard through the grapevine that you had agreed to being a representative early on. Moreover, you were given the position of general, rather than vanguard or center, for this exam. That’s what the rumor says,” explained Kanzaki.
If it were merely the fact I was chosen as a representative, I could dismiss it as plain old gossip. However, Kanzaki had included the important keyword “general” in conveying this to me. Even if Horikita was widely recognized as the leader of the class, she had given up that position. Considering that this fact was included, it seemed like this couldn’t be dismissed as just hearsay. Judging from the look of uncomfortable embarrassment on Kanzaki’s face, he probably didn’t intend to tell me something so pointed when he’d started this conversation.
However, my quick denial of representative status must have strengthened his desire for the truth. Information that I had warned Horikita to keep confidential appeared to have been leaked, and rather easily at that.
“That’s an extremely specific rumor,” I replied. “But it’s just that. And rumors are just rumors. There hasn’t been any such talk as of yet.”
While I was certain of what had happened, I continued to deny it. Even if denying it here and now was a lie, Kanzaki would simply have to understand that it was a permissible lie, necessary as part of making a strategy.
“…I understand. If you say so, then I’m sure it must simply be a rumor. However, if Horikita does ask that you participate as a representative, would you…please decline, if at all possible?” asked Kanzaki.
“That’s quite a drastic request to make,” I replied.
“I understand quite well what you are truly capable of. If you do appear as a representative, our class will inevitably have a difficult battle. More importantly though, there’s also the fear that Ichinose will not be able to show her true potential if she has to fight you too,” said Kanzaki.
So he was saying that he didn’t want me to be a representative, and I could tell that he was speaking honestly about that point, at least.
“I understand what you’re trying to say,” I said. “But that’s not an ask I can easily accept. If Horikita makes a request like that, it’s only natural for me to consider it, as her classmate.”
I could feel the strength in Kanzaki’s straightened arms.
“My apologies. I just asked you something that no one should accept. Please forget it,” said Kanzaki.
“It’s all right. It just shows how much you’re staking on this upcoming special exam,” I replied.
There haven’t been many times where I’ve so plainly insinuated that I would be taking to the stage like this before. I could completely understand his wariness.
“That was all I came to discuss with you today, Ayanokouji. I apologize for prying into your business so persistently. I am also grateful for all that you have done for us,” said Kanzaki.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s only natural that we’re each trying our very best in our quest to reach Class A,” I said.
Regardless of whether his approach and direction were correct or not, Kanzaki was thinking through things in his own way and trying to find a means of survival for his class’s sake. I had no intention whatsoever of denying that. If anything, I found him interesting to observe. If Ichinose hadn’t gone through a chemical change, I would’ve liked to have done a little more work revising him, but it wasn’t too late to see what kind of results he could achieve in the End-of-Year Special Exam. After seeing Kanzaki go, trying to hide his discouragement as he walked away, I decided to head back to the dormitory myself.
3.8
IT WAS JUST BEFORE ten o’clock at night, and Sunday would soon be over. Since I wanted to be considerate to Sakayanagi, who had told me that her schedule was full, it was decided that I would be communicating with just one of the people I wanted to meet in a particular way. I received a call from Sakayanagi on my phone. I turned off the TV and pressed the button to accept the call.
“I am terribly sorry to be calling you at such a late hour. Is this time still acceptable?” asked Sakayanagi.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I told her.
“You said that you wished to speak with me?”
I would have thought that she would’ve had an idea of what this was about, but she asked me that question as though she didn’t know.