“Forget all those dudes who just come to these things to pick up girls, though.”
“Oh yeah, speaking of, whatever happened with that lady he took home last time?”
“Mm, doesn’t seem like they’re together anymore.”
“Seriously?”
“My research shows that statistically, men with a high degree of self-confidence like to follow trends and are bad at holding on to their possessions.”
“Yeah, and when they’re born with it, it’s incurable. Ah well.”
There was a loud rustling as one of the girls stood, followed by the sound of chair legs scraping across the floor. At length, I spotted through the window those same four girls, heading towards the three-way junction that led to the hall.
I watched the four of them walk away, stunned at my repeated good fortune. Their conversation was the sort of thing that typically I would have liked to drown out with music. I was both stunned and grateful at my own timing, so good it had almost seemed planned: that not only had the four of them been present in the café, but there had been a seat free nearby, and they had even conveniently brought up this Ten fellow in conversation. Though of course, I had planned none of this; I had merely gotten lucky.
It was only a small thing for now, but perhaps I had already found it—a possible backdoor into a scandal that could send Moai up in smoke.
I studied the grain of the tabletop through my fashion glasses as I pondered. For us to bring up the fact that there was someone who was supposedly part of Moai’s leadership who was using the group for his own sexual gains would be dreadful, but we still might be able to make use of this somehow. If we were able to prove that even just one person was using these meetings as a hook-up spot and that the targets were the professionals who were being invited—and successfully wooed—and then being treated poorly, it might be enough to start raising opposition toward the group amongst the student body. Luckily for us, this Ten guy was a senior, and even part of Moai’s management.
This could work.
Of course, exactly how could we get evidence of that? It would be ideal to catch him in the act, but obviously Tousuke and I could not tail him 24/7. So perhaps it would be best to hunt down one of these professionals who had been cast away by Ten. It was unlikely that such a person would attend another meeting—we obviously couldn’t ask anyone who it was directly.
Getting an e-mail or a statement from such a person would be enough, but how?
I thought hard, utterly lost in my own ponderings. Thus, my focus on the hall outside of the window wavered. I did not notice that there was someone who I knew, and who knew me, fast approaching.
There was a sudden knock on the window, and I nearly jumped out of my own skin. I looked up to see someone standing there. However, for a moment I did not recognize them, but when I did, my stomach leapt into my throat. I inhaled sharply, choking on my own breath.
Standing there in his jeans and casual top, he either didn’t notice or didn’t care how badly I was shaken. Perhaps satisfied enough by the fact that I had noticed him, he waved at me with a soft smile that insinuated nothing less than placidity, then headed the opposite direction and disappeared down the hall.
I had been caught so utterly off-guard that for a few seconds I just sat there dumbfounded, unsure if I had even actually seen him. I had only the pounding of my own heart as proof that the encounter had been real.
Perhaps in order for something to be timed well, in exchange, something must be timed very poorly. I first took a moment to calm myself, taking a sip of my coffee and placing a hand to my chest, breathing deeply.
“Why now…?” I muttered unconsciously to myself.
I was stunned. I had seen him around, but I couldn’t remember the last time we’d actually stood face-to-face. I was just glad he hadn’t come into the café to try to start a conversation.
Seriously though, what was he doing here? If all had gone according to schedule, he should have finished his graduate studies back in March. Had he stayed on another year? I started to wonder if he was still sticking around the school just to look in on Moai, even after graduating, but then it occurred to me that he was exactly the sort of person who would do such a thing.
This former senpai, Wakisaka, was a vexing character, the sort of person who knew no concept of shame or pride, living only in whatever way best suited him—at least, that was the gist I got of him when he dropped in to Moai meetings.
It was when we were still freshmen. Wakisaka became fascinated with Akiyoshi, and despite not joining us, would keep an eye on Moai, popping up to give unsolicited advice and telling all sorts of people about our club. In other words, it was Wakisaka who set the stage for the shift in Moai’s values that would later occur. He was not the one who put a definitive end to the Moai we knew, but nevertheless, I hated him just as much as I did the people who had taken charge of Moai now. I tried to make myself understand that it was not truly his fault, but there was a disconnect somewhere between my head and my heart.
Regardless, he had recognized me, even through my disguise. I wondered if I was a lot more conspicuous than I thought.
As I worked to settle my nerves, trying to stretch my coffee out all the way through the next discussion session, I got another message from Tousuke.
“All done. Next one’s the last one. I’m getting a little tired, but Pon looks practically dead. I’m thinking I’ll take her out for drinks, so you can join us there.”
“OK. I’ll bring some for Pon-chan. Would love to get more info on Ten if possible. Heard some rumors about him having inappropriate relationships with professionals.”
“Roger that. I’ll get in his group.”