“JUST who does she think she is?” Asuka mumbled, the evening sun backlighting her figure as she and Sayaka watched the doorway where Mio had departed.
“Right?” Sayaka added. “She did kind of save us, though.”
“Yeah, as an afterthought,” Asuka spat. “She didn’t even make them apologize to us. She probably just thought they were an eyesore and wanted them out of her classroom.”
Sayaka only smiled wryly in response, but internally, she doubted if that was true. Yes, Mio drove Shina away. Mio had explicitly stated her reason for doing so was to defend her honor—but if that were true, then what was all that about redemption? There was one possibility, but… No, Sayaka brushed the thought from her mind.
Asuka sighed. “Whatever. Who cares what that girl thinks? More importantly, we have to do something about this.” She glanced at the partially defaced desks, knocked over to the ground when Shina had pushed them. “I am not getting chewed out for this.”
They began to restore their desks in silence.
“Hey, Asuka,” Sayaka suddenly spoke. “What are you going to do?”
“What am I going to do?” Asuka repeated, confused. “About what? Nothing. After what Ms. Mio said to them, I doubt Shina and them will be back.”
“Right. But I meant more like what are we going to do? After all that, I feel like we owe it to her.”
Asuka looked at Sayaka in disbelief. “You’re not seriously thinking of apologizing to her, are you? She may have helped us, but through intimidation, which makes her no different from the rest.”
Asuka’s point was straightforward: someone with power oppresses a subordinate, who in turn lashes out at someone even weaker. Mio’s actions, using her authority to silence Shina, were a clear perpetuation of this cycle.
“Asuka, I know how you feel,” Sayaka said. “But I feel like we’ve been given a chance here—a chance to escape from all this. Or would you prefer to spend the next three years at Sosei constantly looking over your shoulder?”
“Of course I don’t,” Asuka spat bitterly. She paused, her thoughts tumbling over each other. Guilt gnawed at her for the mess they’d created, particularly with Mio. Her pride, however, clung stubbornly to her, a trait so deeply ingrained it seemed part of her very bones.
But Sayaka, her long-time friend, understood how she worked perfectly. “Then how about this: First, we make things right with Rikka.”
“Rikka? Why start with her?” Asuka echoed in confusion.
“Because we messed up, Asuka. We thought we were doing the right thing but completely misread the room. Let’s sort that out first, and then… Well, we can cross that bridge when we get there.
“But—”
“Remember when you dragged me out for ice cream by the station? What did I say?”
Asuka blinked. “What? Wait, what? Why are you bringing that up now?”
“I said yes, didn’t I, Asuka?”
Asuka hesitated, her gaze darting around as if looking for a loophole, a typical escape route. But the memory, combined with Sayaka’s unwavering support, was a guilt trip that worked like no other. With a resigned sigh, she conceded, “Fine. You’re right. We’ll do it your way.”