But our target was the school; our ultimate goal was to change the way this place operated. That wasn’t supposed to involve lashing out at the better classes—or so I’d thought.
Maybe Kurumi had other ideas. In that case, I’d better say my piece.
I raised a hand, seeking permission to speak.
“Pardon me, Kurumi. If I may?”
“By all means. You have the floor.”
“What is the goal of this scheme? It seems less like an attempt to change the school than like a vindictive strike against the top-ranked students. Are we really hurling the right stone?”
As I spoke, Kurumi’s lips curled into a smirk.
That was when it hit me—she’d tricked me into saying this.
Crap. How irritating.
Fine, go ahead. You’ve got an answer prepared, right? Go ahead and destroy my argument.
“Don’t be so simpleminded, Natsume. This is a scheme with two goals.”
“Uh-huh. Do tell.”
Kurumi waggled her index finger at me, still wearing that mean-spirited smile.
“First, we’ll be spreading awareness of how wrong this is. No matter how perfect their grades are, the good students will still get insulted—turning them against the school itself.”
“Awareness… Okay. I think I get it.”
“At the moment, the resistance is just the two of us. If we truly want to change the school, we’ll need to recruit more people. Supporters—or, if not that, comrades in spirit.”
Hmm. I hated to admit it, but she was starting to convince me.
If the better students turned on the teachers, that might begin to shift the school’s atmosphere. At the very least, more students would realize just how messed up this place was. In that sense, this scheme might provide a solid start.
“Understood,” I said. “And? What’s the other goal?”
“The second part is a bit trickier to explain. Essentially, I want to unnerve the teachers.”
“Meaning?”
“Uh, gimme a sec. I wanna phrase this properly.”
Kurumi pursed her lips and tapped a finger against her temple. The gesture was pretty cute.
After a moment’s thought, she thumped a fist against her palm.
“Aha! Got it. Make sure you listen closely, before I forget.”
“I’m listening. Go right ahead.”
“So, um, I didn’t mention this before, but every insult we put on the good students’ tests will be things the teachers have actually written on our papers.”
So we’ll be sticking to stuff like “Garbage,” and “Quit goofing off!”
“And how will that unnerve the teachers?” I asked.
“Put yourself in their shoes. The faculty will be aware of our crimes. They’ll know someone is doctoring the students’ answer sheets. What will they do?”
“They’ll probably be furious.”
“Agreed. But here’s the thing—no matter how mad they get or how big a problem it is, they can’t tell anyone that someone’s scribbling abusive language on the tests.”
…Why not?
I gave that a moment’s thought and finally caught her drift.
“Oh, since it’s all stuff they’ve written, they can’t classify it as ‘abusive.’”
“Precisely.”
Aha. They might be scum, but they were still teachers. They knew their actions could be used against them. And that was why we had to limit ourselves to stuff they’d already written.
Even if they discovered what we were up to and flipped their lids, all they could say was that the tests had been doctored. If they said, “Someone’s written insults,” it could come back to haunt them. It would be like admitting that they had harassed their own students.
Even if they went ahead and said, “Somebody’s writing awful things on your tests!” they couldn’t make a big enough deal about it that word would reach our parents and guardians. The stronger their response, the more likely they’d be to expose themselves.
This was sure to vex and irritate them, or in Kurumi’s words, “unnerve them.”
So far, it sounded reasonable. We’d make the teachers uncomfortable and generate more rebels. It was a roundabout approach, but it would send a message to the faculty that they should tone down what they wrote on tests.
It wasn’t…the worst idea. Arguably, it was a decently practical approach—on paper, at least.
“I get the gist. Overall, it’s a step toward positive change, even if all we’re doing in practice is carrying out a spiteful little vendetta.”
“Spiteful is my middle name! That was my intent from the very beginning.”
Kurumi slapped her flat chest. Why’d she look so proud of herself? I was baffled, but at least now I knew what kind of scale she was working on.
I ran over the plan once more in my mind, then nodded.
“Okay, that sounds worthwhile.”
“Oh, you think you have a choice in the matter? You have to go along with everything I say.”
“Sure, but—I thought you might have something much worse in mind. I’m relieved that wasn’t the case.”
“Worse, like what?” Kurumi asked, blinking. Then she clapped her hands. “Like spreading word of the faculty’s misdeeds online and building up a public furor? Nope. That would just be passing the buck on to some grown-ups. I want to make this our payback.”
No, I was thinking you might want to kill someone… But thankfully, it didn’t sound like that was in the cards. It seemed her brand of vengeance wasn’t likely to land us in prison, at least.
The tension drained from my shoulders as Kurumi put her notebook away and rose to her feet.
“That concludes our meeting. Natsume, let’s go shopping.”
“Shopping? For what? I’ve got red pens.”
“Oh, we won’t be using pens. We’ll need something more efficient.” With a confident huff, she put a hand on her hip. “We’re gonna buy some new erasers and turn them into stamps!”
“…Uh, what?”