The aroma wafting on the wind created hunger pangs. The smell of curry being prepared during cooking class drifted out from the ventilation fan of the home economics classroom.
It was so darned hot one wondered if anyone would actually feel like eating curry. Then again, it sure smelled good.
Makoto was seated on a bench in the school’s inner courtyard, shielded from the sun by the shadows of the trees. He was drinking cafe au lait out of a carton.
It was just after third period. His breakfast had already been digested, and his stomach was now empty. He’d reached his limit for enduring hunger. Makoto was in his growth period, so this was a grave situation. Of course, the cafeteria would not be open to students until fourth period was over. The only thing he could do was buy juice at the vending machine and get by on that. But the smell of curry was making him even hungrier.
“Aaagh! I definitely wanna have curry today!” Makoto complained, slumping backwards.
His eyes met with someone’s. The second time it had happened today. But this time, it was a normal human’s.
“Ngah…?” Lying on his back, Makoto uttered a strange, surprised noise.
The inner courtyard faced Makoto’s homeroom, first year/group 6. Although it was forbidden, it was possible to climb down to the inner courtyard from the window.
Now, from the classroom window, about two meters away, a female student peered at Makoto.
The girl smiled, perhaps at the sight of Makoto’s open mouth gaping in surprise or perhaps because their eyes had met. Makoto stood up and faced the girl. She had long hair and a hint of makeup. The girl did not make a bad impression on Makoto. On the contrary, she was quite cute, though not particularly memorable.
Makoto tended to have trouble placing his classmates’ names to their faces. And if he did not make an effort to remember, it was even worse.
But he remembered this girl’s name.
Hiura Toiro.
It was a peculiar name, so even Makoto remembered it. For a while after enrollment, the teachers from various departments had marveled in unison at what an unusual name it was.
And each time, the girl’s cheeks would redden and she would feel embarrassed. Perhaps because of her cute reaction, she became popular with the boys. Makoto’s male classmates proclaimed this year to be a “boon year.” In other words, the girls in this year’s incoming class were a fine harvest.
On the other hand, Makoto was not interested in any one girl. He also took no notice of Toiro, even though she was supposed to be rather cute.
“Break time’s almost over,” Toiro said.
“Yeah.”
Makoto left the bench. Without the protective shadow of the trees, the heat of the sun singed. He placed his hand on the windowsill next to Toiro. The windowsill was hot. He had no intention of holding onto it forever, so he hurried into the classroom.
“It’s so hot, I don’t understand how you can eat curry,” Toiro said.
“Huh?” Makoto asked in return. Then the thought hit him. “Oh. You were… listening?”
Those were the words he had muttered to himself on the bench. He felt a bit embarrassed over having been overheard.
“I heard you,” she said, smiling. “You said you wanted curry.”
She usually spoke with a tense voice during class, but now she was bright and cheerful. And when she smiled, she was much cuter than he thought. The school’s dowdy sailor uniforms didn’t look so bad on her either. He was impressed, but not that interested. He still hadn’t formed an opinion of her yet.
✦ ✦ ✦
During the entire fourth period, Makoto conducted an orchestra performed by his growling stomach. He somehow kept his hunger at bay. He dashed out of the classroom as soon as class ended. He usually ate lunch with a few of his classmates, but today he wanted to eat as soon as possible, so he rushed off alone.
Running into the still-empty cafeteria, he immediately leapt towards the food ticket vending machines. Shoveling in the coins he had prepared in advance during class, he purchased a curry ticket without hesitation.
Giving the ticket to the lady at the counter, he received a plate full of curry in return.
“All right!” Giving a cheer, Makoto placed a spoon on his tray and took a seat at a table. But he had forgotten to get water.
“Crap.”
He reluctantly stood up. “Water is curry’s best friend,” he reminded himself.
But by that time, several students were already lined up at the water dispenser.
“You gotta be kidding…?!”
He had no choice but to line up. The girl in front of him was taking her sweet time, and Makoto became irritated. She was getting five cups of water. She must have been getting some for her friends too. But he couldn’t very well slug her and tell her to hurry up. So he waited quietly and was finally able to get some water for himself.
“Such a hassle,” he grumbled.
He finally returned to the curry that awaited him. He scooped up an ideal amount of rice and curry sauce and brought it to his mouth. But before he could chomp down on it, the P.A. system crackled to life.
“Attention, first year/group 6 student Hayama Makoto, please report to Handa-sensei in the faculty room immediately.”
The dull voice of the old man from the in-school P.A. system had singled him out. Handa-sensei was the math teacher, from the class Makoto had just left. He was someone who looked older than his years, and was a dull, flabby man.
Makoto had no idea why he was being called. “Hm?” he wondered. “Did I do something wrong?”
“I can’t just ignore it…” he told himself. “But what am I supposed to do with my curry?!”
Though he found it hard to leave, Makoto grabbed one of his classmates and told him, “I’m putting you in charge of world peace and the fate of my curry!”
Leaving these orders, he hurried off to the faculty room.
Handa-sensei accused Makoto as soon as he arrived. “You weren’t paying attention in class at all, were you?”
It seemed Handa-sensei didn’t like the fact that Makoto had constantly looked down to control his hunger, and that he had not remained astute during class.
Now that he thought about it, he recalled being reprimanded in class, but his hunger made him oblivious to it. And to top it off, he might have dashed out of the classroom without making the end-of-class bow to the teacher.
Oops…
“Hayama, why are you here at this school?” Handa asked.
“The tuition is cheaper than a private school,” Makoto answered swiftly. “And I can walk here from my house. It’s convenient.”
Makoto had intended it as a serious answer. In actuality, he chose a public school over a private one in consideration of his family’s finances. But it was also true that it was the closest high school to his house.
In the countryside, public schools were better than private schools. And this was a top-ranking high school. This was why Makoto had studied hard and passed the entrance requirements.
Of course, Handa-sensei didn’t buy his answers. “Don’t mess with me!” he yelled. “You’re nothing but a freshman! I don’t buy that big attitude of yours!”
Makoto gave a vague reply. His heart wasn’t in it. It was with the curry. But still, Handa’s attacks continued.
“And furthermore, Hayama, just because you’re popular with the girls doesn’t give you the right to get a big head!” Handa-sensei screamed, adjusting his glasses, which had slipped because of the sweat pouring from his face.
I’m popular with the girls? Makoto thought. That’s news to me.
If it was a boon year for boys, it was actually a boon year for girls too. And Makoto was counted as one of the cute guys. Makoto was tall and thin and his face wasn’t bad-looking either. He was cheerful and sociable, and his seemingly aloof nature—which was actually laziness—might have made a good impression too.
Handa-sensei must have heard about Makoto’s popularity from somewhere and was now referring to it.
“Listen up, now. You students…”
Handa-sensei lectured on and on. By the time he was finished, lunchtime was over. The bell sounded and Makoto was told to return to class.
He was unable to eat his curry.