Perhaps because he had nothing to do with the website design, Zaimokuza was the one person here who seemed the most carefree. He flipped through the layout sketch concepts, then folded his arms with a ferm. “And how is the project proposal going?”
“This is it, basically… I made it specifically for Kaihin, so I don’t think you’ll understand it.” I held out the documents, which Zaimokuza perused.
Then his expression turned puzzled, and he handed the papers to the side. Hatano took them, and his face twisted up just from looking at the cover. “…What the hell is this?” He dropped the papers on the table.
Sagami flipped through the proposal, too, and the more he read, the more disturbed he became. “This is like some shitty ad for a new condo tower crossed with a new release in the business section… Why does this have diagrams of a Johari window and Maslow’s hierarchy of needs…?”
I told you so… I eyed the proposal cover bitterly. The titles were in an extra-cool font: Blockchain-style diversity inclusion prom night proposal: sunset beach overlooking the waterfront, a serendipitous experience in the ultimate translucent space. No, I don’t know what any of it means, and I’m the one who wrote it.
It was a little embarrassing to expose this to the light of day, if I do say so myself. I cleared my throat with a keff, keff. “…Well, that part’s just for show. Honestly, so long as they go for it, it doesn’t really matter.”
“Falling for a trick like this, what kind of sucker is he…?”
No, no, Hatano. Tamanawa isn’t a crude fish. Don’t classify him with suckers and blowfish. He’s actually the biggest fish in his pond. When it comes to being pretentious, he is in fact a Supreme Being–the Overlord, if you will. This is what’s going to make him jump on it.
Hatano gave up fairly quickly on trying to read it, but Sagami the younger tenaciously kept studying the proposal documents.
Once he was finally done, he nodded. “The actual content seems fine, though.”
“Yeah!” Yuigahama said. I could tell she was glad.
At just about the same time, the corners of Sagami’s lips twisted. “Yeah, bet my sister would love it… Pfeh,” he spat, and Yuigahama was choked silent.
“Mm-hmm, from what I can see, ’tis a proposal so repulsive, I can feel my gorge rising at the sight of it…,” Zaimokuza added with utter loathing.
“The only saving grace is the fact that it’s never going to happen,” Hatano scoffed in contempt.
RIP to Yuigahama, but if I can get this reaction, that means the content isn’t so bad…
In addition to the idea that had come up during our planning meeting—making it a joint event with nearby elementary, middle, and high schools—Yuigahama had incorporated a copious number of flash ideas in this plan. It came out so well that even I would shudder in horror.
In the end, we hadn’t been able to think of anything more extravagant than Yukinoshita’s original plan, so we decided to adjust the setting instead. I’d hypothetically constructed a beach-house-style live venue sort of thing. We’d be circling the campfire on the beach at sunset, a reference to the summer beach events around Shonan. Having the prom there would make for a pretty deranged—er, spirited event. I’d even taken the weather into consideration, mentioning that we might talk with the Hotel Mikazuki to use it as an alternative venue, in case of rain.
Damn, my aptitude for bullshit is scary. If my talents were to continue growing, I might get headhunted by major ad agencies. Truly terrifying.
Meanwhile, Yuigahama seemed displeased at having been categorized as one of the elder Sagami’s ilk, as she jerked her face up from where she’d been scowling at the proposal papers.
“I’m sure Kaihin would be okay with this, but what about Hayato?”
“For him…it’d probably be faster to tell him verbally,” I said with some bitterness.
“Hmm?” Yuigahama tilted her head curiously. But it wasn’t anything worth being curious about.
It would be best to assume cheap tricks wouldn’t work on him. If I went to him with the proposal, he’d probably figure out it was a fake event. It would be easier to make progress with him by being up-front that it was a dummy.
“That’s the idea, so I’ll hand it off to you,” I said, and with that, the meeting was adjourned. I got an unenthusiastic reply in return, and we all went to our own tasks.
As Hatano and Sagami the younger were fighting out their opinions on the site design (“Not like that!” “No, change this!”), Yuigahama nodded at them thoughtfully. “Hmm, that’s not cute.”
After some hesitation, Sagami the younger asked, “…Ummm, if you could be a bit more specific?”
“Well, you know, just like more, like, sparkly…,” Yuigahama said unhelpfully, and Sagami and Hatano racked their brains to divine what she meant.
As I enjoyed their suffering, out of the corner of my eye, Zaimokuza started rustling around and pulling out some stuff. “Hachiman, I brought the camera you asked for,” he said, laying a chunky digital single-lens reflex camera on top of the desk. Then he started thunking down a pile of instruction books.
“Ohhh, thanks,” I said. “I’ll be borrowing those for a while… And tell me how to use it, just in case.”
“Aye, leave it to me. I know not much, either, but I will humbly proffer you my guidance.”
“Uh, isn’t it yours…?” Why can’t he use his own stuff…?
So Zaimokuza taught me the basics, elucidating with arrogance, volume, and a healthy dose of ignorance, and then after he was done, I read over the instruction books.
Now at loose ends, Zaimokuza cleared his throat. “Kepum, kepum.” When I gave him a look that said, What? You’re being annoying, he grinned at me for some reason. And then he blushed and looked away. “I thought up…a name…”
“’Kay…” This is about the light novel he’s not gonna write, isn’t it…? I thought, ready to ignore him, when he pulled out some folded-over paper from his inside coat pocket. He wants me to look, huh…?
Left with no choice, I abandoned the instruction books for the moment and opened that paper. Written there in particularly great handwriting was Soubu High School Neo-Prom-ject.
Whoa… The hell is this…? I was cringing away with every cell in my body when I suddenly remembered. “Ohhh. The name.” Zaimokuza had taken seriously my request for “name suggestions ♡” earlier.
Zaimokuza cleared his throat, gouf, gouf, and made his coat flutter. “Indeed! This Neo part is like—”
“No, I get it; it’s fine.”
“Oh…” Zaimokuza clearly wilted. He’d probably wanted to tell me neo was from Greek and not from The Matrix, but I really couldn’t care less. The important thing was that it was suitably easy to understand and reasonably stupid.
On that point, this name was actually not bad. The pun in particular might have even been safe to call quite stupid. “We’ll go with this. Thanks.”
“Huh?” Zaimokuza was stunned, perhaps because I’d said that so readily.
Ignoring him, I handed the paper around to Hatano and Sagami. “We’ve got a group name now, so put this on.”
“Whaaat…?”
“For real…?” They laughed dryly.
Yuigahama leaned in for a peek, but she seemed satisfied. “I like it!”
“Hmmg! O-oh… Is it that great…?” Finally understanding the situation, Zaimokuza cleared his throat with a gefum, gefum to hide his shyness and joy.
I think it’s actually a good title that’s sure to go places. Please look forward to Yoshiteru Zaimokuza’s next creative work!