Friday
Day
YANO’S BULLYING was due in large part to the sense of unity that our class shared.
The next morning, just like Yano had said, it started to rain.
On rainy days, I walked to school with an umbrella. To be honest, I would rather have ridden my bike like usual, but if any teachers spotted me wielding an umbrella while riding I would be chewed out. That’d be a major pain, and no one ever went around wearing ponchos, and I wasn’t about to be the one dweeb using one.
Walking to school took a fair while longer, but since I no longer required sleep, I could wake up early and take my time eating breakfast and get to school without issue. I was much hungrier than usual that morning and ended up eating four slices of toast. I wondered if it had anything to do with last night’s fire breathing.
I arrived at school after a relatively easy commute, my walk scored by the sound of my music player. It was full of popular tunes. On rainy days, some students had their parents drive them to school, and there were others like me who preferred to walk, so more students than usual came skirting in just before the bell. I, on the other hand, arrived much earlier than I predicted, while the entryway was fairly empty. Still outside, I folded up my umbrella and shook off the raindrops before heading in.
Yano stood there, drenched from head to toe.
I hadn’t anticipated this encounter. My expression was probably a bit strained. When I looked at Yano, who was busy wringing out her skirt, she gave me that satisfied grin. “Good mor…ning.”
Yano offering pointless greetings to her classmates was the norm. Even so, I stood there for just a moment, struck dumb. The gods of fortune must have truly been on my side, given that none of our other classmates were present.
“Some…one took my um…brella.”
Before she could even finish informing me of this tragic circumstance, I returned to my senses. I averted my gaze and successfully carried myself to our class’s shoe boxes. Despite my ignoring her, I caught Yano still grinning in the corner of my eye. Just as I was thinking to myself how truly strange she was, I heard a voice from behind us.
“Good morning, Yano-san. Why don’t you come with me to the nurse’s office? I’ll lend you a towel.”
“Thank…you very…much.”
Classic Noto, always on the ball. I silently thanked her. With her arrival, both my wishes had been granted. Not only did I avoid having to talk to Yano, the girl was going to stop dripping everywhere. Thank the heavens above.
When I arrived at the classroom, sure enough, over half of the seats remained empty. Two cliques had already arrived: Takao’s group of boys, with their loud voices, and Nakagawa’s group of girls, who had been the ones to attack Iguchi yesterday. All of them bubbled with talk of how they had destroyed a classmate’s umbrella. I put my umbrella into the stand and my bag into my locker, pretending not to listen.
I worried that just sitting silently at my desk might be bad for my health, so I turned and discussed a show that had aired the night before with my neighbor, Kudou. It was a garden-variety romantic drama with very few twists. It was popular, and I had been watching since the second episode. Honestly, I still didn’t get what was so great about it, but other people seemed to be moved by it—and I wasn’t opposed to having a close female friend rave about it and show me her full, double-toothed smile.
Kasai arrived after a short while, giving a spectacular greeting that reached every corner of the room. I raised a hand to him as well. Since Takao had already enthusiastically confessed to the divine punishment he had dispensed, I decided to chime in, too. I picked my moment, waiting until Kasai was passing by my seat to take his bag to his locker.
“Y’know, she was totally soaked back at the entrance,” I said.
A laugh erupted. Thank goodness. It was weird for such a rainy day, but everyone seemed to be in slightly higher spirits than usual. Perhaps it was because the windows were closed tight in order to keep the room from getting drenched. It made the room feel a bit like a secret clubhouse of sorts. We felt that sense of unity stronger than ever.
I had previously heard the teachers say that our class was a good one, without any problems. That was, of course, as long as you turned a blind eye to the matter of Yano, but it was clear that was exactly what the teachers were inclined to do. There were some rough guys like Motoda, and some minor violations of school regulations now and then, but there were no reports of violence or matters that would concern the police. On the whole, we were a good, well-disciplined group.
“I just wish Midorikawa had seen it,” said Takao.
“Right?” I laughed.
Of course, I had no intention of arguing that Yano was the victim here. Yano had brought this situation down upon herself. It was her own conduct that incited this bullying. What could one say but that Yano was the one in the wrong here for going after Midorikawa?
That said, the reason that she’d made a mistake by harassing Midorikawa was not simply because Midorikawa was beloved by everyone.
“Morning!”
I turned to look as Kasai greeted someone at the back of the classroom with a wide smile. Midorikawa herself had just arrived. She replied with her usual “Mm,” and we responded by casually greeting her back. It was impossible to discern what internal rules governed the number of times Midorikawa might nod or the timing of such, but she gave one more “Mm” for good measure and headed to her seat.
He probably didn’t want the rest of us to notice, but Kasai had just received his own individual “Mm” from Midorikawa and was grinning even wider than before. It was a different type of smile than the one he gave anyone else—that much was painfully clear to everyone.
Without a doubt, Kasai was the heart and soul of our class. In the center of our class, which had developed an all-around enmity for Yano, was Kasai.
That said, Kasai had never done anything to Yano. The only connection between the two was that Kasai was the nucleus of the class and that he was unhappy with her. The greatest tragedy for Yano was the fact that everyone was aware of that one tiny thing.