Sota looked around to make sure Toranosuke and his buddies weren’t around. “Toranosuke forgets stuff all the time. And he never does his homework. He’s smart, so he answers a lot of questions in class and wins points that way. But there was a time when he raised his hand, and the teacher asked someone else. He whined, ‘It’s favoritism!’ and caused a fuss. Since then, he’s been sulking and refuses to raise his hand in class.”
“Huh,” Niko remarked. He pushed his glasses up. “So you’re saying this is a system designed to incentivize following the rules, healthy expression during lessons, and general improvement among the entire class?”
“Y-yes. I think so.”
Sota replied in the affirmative, but the truth was, he hadn’t known all that. Oh, okay, I guess that’s what these stickers are supposed to do. Sota had been so focused on the competition that he never considered there was a point to it.
“Interesting, interesting.” Niko bobbed his head. He stared at the sheet on the wall. “This has been most informative. Thank you.”
Soon after, Sota realized just how strange Niko was.
Everyone either became one of Toranosuke’s entourage and did whatever he said or did their best to avoid him, like Sota. However, Niko started policing him instead.
For example, when Toranosuke forgot his eraser or ruler, he would turn to Niko to borrow it because they sat beside each other. Sota and others would have thought Ugh or Not again before reluctantly lending the item. Niko was different, though. When Toranosuke reached for the other boy’s eraser in the middle of class, Niko stated, “You can’t have it,” in a loud voice that carried. “That won’t do you any good. And I don’t like people repeatedly borrowing my things.”
It startled Toranosuke. He wasn’t used to being told off right to his face, and it proved so stunning he forgot to sulk.
The teacher was surprised, too, but soon looked relieved. “That’s right, Toranosuke. You need to remember to bring your own.”
Niko didn’t stop there, though. At the class meeting before the end of the day, he suggested, “We shouldn’t lend things to anyone who forgets them. Today I refused to give Toranosuke my eraser, but it doesn’t just have to be him. Lending people objects when they forget them doesn’t help. They need to regret their actions to learn they’re better off remembering next time.”
Everyone applauded him. The kids were sick of Toranosuke’s slovenly nature.
Toranosuke grinned like he always did, despite the clapping. “Well, I don’t really mind that sort of thing,” he muttered. “I don’t need to borrow your stuff, because I can still study just fine. You guys and the teacher are the ones with the real problem.”
Toranosuke’s forgetfulness never improved, but he stopped asking to borrow stuff from his seat neighbors. When the teacher grew concerned that Toranosuke wasn’t reading his textbook and said, “Please follow along using your neighbor’s,” Toranosuke loudly replied, “Nobody will let me see. It’s for my own good.” He made it sound extra snotty. It was an obvious jab at Niko.
When the class split up for group projects, he announced, “Nobody will lend me their scissors, so it’s okay if I don’t do this, right?” and started scribbling on his own for fun.
Niko just watched the entire time.
Sometime after that, Toranosuke’s mother messaged the other moms with kids in the class.
“Hey, Sota, I heard that new transfer student is going to Toranosuke’s house every day. Do you know anything about that?” his mother asked.
“Huh?”
He didn’t know what she was talking about. Niko was going…to Toranosuke’s place?
“He walks home with Toranosuke every single day and won’t leave until Toranosuke’s finished his homework and packed for school the next day. If Toranosuke tries to leave alone, Niko manages to find him.”
“Every single day?”
“That’s what it sounds like.”
If Sota’s mom was surprised by this, so was Sota.
He realized that Toranosuke had been doing his homework for the last few days. And he hadn’t been scolded for forgetting things, either. Group Five’s total flower-circle stickers were increasing.
Sota’s mom looked confused. “She said that on days Toranosuke has cram school, Niko comes over right when Toranosuke returns. She warned him that it was too late for a boy to be out, but I guess Niko told her, ‘It’s fine. I came with a parent.’ He must be getting a ride from his mother or father.”
“Well, Toranosuke does forget stuff all the time. And Niko’s the group leader,” Sota explained. He told his mom about what had happened at school—the flower-circle stickers and Niko’s refusal to lend Toranosuke anything. But even after his explanation, his mom looked troubled.
“But… Why would he go so far?”
“Uh, because Toranosuke forgets stuff all the time and causes problems for everyone.”
“Yes, I get that, but this is a little much, don’t you think? Going to his house every day to make sure he fulfills his responsibilities? And getting a ride from his parents? I can’t imagine Toranosuke’s family is thrilled about it.”
“But…”
Sota agreed, but it was Toranosuke’s fault. Sure, Niko was a bit excessive, but he was doing the right thing.
“Toranosuke’s mom called it scary.”
Scary…
That word pricked at Sota’s memory.
“Who sends an essay like this out of nowhere? What a freak. It’s scary.”
“He’s not scary,” Sato found himself saying. “Toranosuke’s doing his homework and remembering everything. Before, our group wasn’t getting any stickers, but now we’re doing much better.”
It wasn’t Niko’s fault.
The boy had a strong drive to set things right. That was all. Nobody stood up to Toranosuke before, and Niko was laudable for doing so.
“Is that right? It makes me wonder what Niko’s parents are like, though. Their son goes out late at night, and they encourage it.”
“Didn’t you say Niko’s mom’s kind of weird?”
“According to Toranosuke’s mom, more than a little. She even told Niko’s mother off. She said, ‘This is a real problem for us.’ But Niko’s mom just smiled and answered, ‘That’s right. Me too.’ When she yelled at his dad, he apologized and said, ‘I see. I’m sorry,’ without scolding his son. It sounds like both of his parents are total weirdos.”
At some point, “more than a little strange” had become “total weirdos.” Sota hummed to himself and nodded.
The next day at school, Sota asked Niko, “Do you go over to Toranosuke’s house?”
Without an ounce of hesitation, he replied, “Yep. It’s not good for the class to be sloppy.”
Sota looked over at Toranosuke’s seat. The boy was silent, and he never looked in their direction. He carved nicks in his desk with a razor, evidently irritated. His usual smirk had vanished.
There was an unannounced group change that day.
“We’re starting first period with a change of plans. It’s time to switch groups,” the teacher announced, to the class’s surprise. It was right in the middle of the school term.
Sota happened to be watching Toranosuke when the news broke. He leaned disinterestedly over his desk, but there was a faint hint of a smile on his lips.
Maybe Toranosuke’s parents asked for this to get him away from Niko.
After the change, Niko and Toranosuke were in different groups, and Sota wasn’t with either of them. The chart with all the flower-circle stickers was taken down, but a new one was not put up in its place.
It seems kind of babyish, but that’s that, Sota thought. Maybe Toranosuke’s learned his lesson, and he’ll be better from now on.
However, all was not well.
One day, Sota’s mom said to him, “Listen, sweetie, can you do something for me?”
“What?”
“Toranosuke’s mom asked me if you would give Niko a warning for them. Can you do that?”
“A warning about what?”
“Remember what I said before? About how Niko visits Toranosuke’s house like he’s on guard duty, making sure Toranosuke does his homework and brings all of his things to school?”
“Wow, really? He’s still doing that? They’re in different groups now.”
The term “guard duty” was new, but it was understandable that Toranosuke’s family felt like they were being watched.
Initially, it seemed that Niko was doing this because he was the group leader and wanted more stickers. However, Niko had also claimed it was for the good of the class. Maybe he had never cared about the competition.
“But why’s she asking you to do that, Mom? I thought Toranosuke’s mom was closer to Yuichiro’s and Go’s moms.”
Yuichiro and Go were good friends of Toranosuke’s and acted as his henchmen. The three had been in the same group since the switch, and Sota suspected that Toranosuke’s mom had requested the teacher set it up that way. All three of their mothers were close friends, regularly attending school events together. Sota’s mom seemed very careful about how she interacted with them, as exemplified by the message she’d sent. The one Toranosuke had shown Sota.
His mother shook her head.
“Actually, Niko’s not the only one standing watch anymore. Yuichiro and Go are doing it as well. It’s like they have a system for who goes each day.”
“What?!” Sota exclaimed. This was a real shock.
“There are girls helping, too—Yuki and Rinko. Toranosuke’s mom asked their parents to get them to stop, but they all say, ‘This is how it works,’ or ‘It’s for the good of the class.’ They won’t listen.”
All those names were from Group Two, Toranosuke’s group. Sota wasn’t involved with him anymore, so he hadn’t realized this was going on.
His mom sighed. “Toranosuke’s mother thinks Niko’s ordering the children to do it. So will you tell him he’s going too far, Sota?”
Sota could definitely imagine Niko doing that. He’d probably said, “You’re all in the group together, so you guys have to help keep an eye on him.”
Before Sota could reply, the phone on the table buzzed. Sota saw Toranosuke’s Mom on the screen.
Originally, Sota’s and Toranosuke’s mothers had only traded messages on LINE, but it had since escalated to phone calls, frequent ones at that. Sometimes they came late at night or during dinner, and Sota’s mom often tried to wrap them up quickly. His dad seemed worried, too.
On several occasions, he’d grumbled, “Is it from that lady again? Can’t you just hang up on her?”
Sota had wondered what was so important that they had to talk about it all the time. Now he had the answer.
His mother pulled the phone close to hide it, like a dirty secret, and sighed again.
“Do you understand, Sota? Please, I’m asking you.”
If she was asking Sota for help, she must have already tried speaking with the other kids’ mothers. Maybe Sota’s mom wasn’t the only one Toranosuke’s mom regularly called for help. When his mother pressed the phone to her ear, Sota heard the voice on the other side say, “Do you have a moment?”