Friends. That helped me connect the dots.
Tanaka was aware I was shunned by our classmates. She was wondering if that was a new thing, or if it had been going on for a while.
“Last year all I did was study, so I didn’t really have time for friends.”
“So you are smart. I knew it!”
“…My grades aren’t that great. That’s why I was studying. I was trying to get into a better class.”
This was safe to admit. Tanaka looked faintly surprised.
“Are you still trying?”
“Not anymore, no. Too much effort.”
“Hmm, okay. I see.” She broke off and thought for a moment. There was a long silence, and then she made up her mind. “You know those boys in charge of the masking tape?”
“Huh? Oh, for the festival. I think so, why?”
“You might try talking to them. I think they’ve got the wrong idea about you.”
She must have been suggesting I try to join their group. The wrong idea, huh? Was it that simple? I’d only convinced the teachers I’d make trouble if they harassed me—they didn’t actually like me or anything. I figured my classmates had misunderstood the situation, but how was I supposed to explain something like that?
While I pondered this, Tanaka sighed.
“Okay… Look, Natsume, I could—”
“Ah!” A yelp cut her off.
I looked up, saw who it was, and almost yelped myself.
There was Kurumi, in black hair mode, right in the middle of the crowd.
What a weird coincidence. Bad timing all around. We’d kept our relationship under wraps all this time, and if we made contact now, Tanaka would find out. It hurt, but I had to ignore her.
I blended into the crowd and tried to pass her by—but she blocked my escape.
“O-oh, hey! Fancy meeting you here,” she called out as we passed.
Come on, Kurumi, what are you thinking? We have to pretend we don’t know each other! Was she trying to cover for her yelp?
Crap. Now that she’d said something, I had to respond. Fine, here goes nothing.
I stopped and turned to face her. But there was no need to reply—Kurumi wasn’t looking at me.
“What’s up, Tanaka?” she said. “Out shopping?”
“…Yeah, we’re getting supplies for the festival.”
“I see, I see! Well, keep up the good work!” Kurumi was acting awfully friendly. “You two are in Class five, right? What kind of shop are you guys doing?”
“Well, we’re actually not doing a shop. We’re just making decorations.” Tanaka sounded equally at ease.
What was happening? They were completely ignoring me while I stood to the side, at a loss.
“Oh. Hi, Natsume.”
When I heard my name, I finally snapped out of it and began to calmly take stock of the situation.
…So these two know each other?
“What brings you here, Hoshimiya?” Tanaka asked. “You don’t live out this way.”
“Oh… Yeah, I’m…also on a supply run. My class asked me to go.”
“Oh, okay. What’s your class doing?”
“We’re making a maze. Lining up the desks, setting up cardboard walls, you know.”
As Kurumi spoke, she hid her shopping bag behind her back. This kept it out of Tanaka’s line of sight, but I could see what was inside. The bag bore the logo of an electronics shop, and there was a round object inside it—likely a blank CD-R. It was the kind you used to make your own music CDs.
I was pretty sure what she intended to do with it. This was for our plan. Kurumi was going to make a CD of our teachers’ insults and play it over the school’s broadcast system, just like how students played music at lunchtime.
“…Kurumi,” I said softly.
“……”
She looked away, avoiding my gaze.
Maybe she didn’t want me bringing up the CD, or maybe she just didn’t want to talk to me here. It could have been either one, and I wasn’t sure how to take it.
Her smile was definitely fake, like she was talking to a stranger.
“Oh, sorry!” she said at last. “I’m short on time, so I’d better run!”
“Yeah. Sorry for keeping you. Later, Hoshimiya.”
“Same. See you both later. Swing by our maze on festival day!”
Kurumi hurried off in the other direction. Our eyes briefly met in passing. She was frowning, clearly upset. She looked like someone whose favorite candy store had just gone out of business. First she won’t meet my gaze, now she looks sad—what’s going on?
“We’d better go, too,” suggested Tanaka.
“Oh, right.”
She set off toward the station, and I followed a half step behind.
“Natsume, let’s get some crepes on the way home. I’ll pay, as a thank-you for helping.”
“…Uh, crepes? Sounds good, let’s do that.”
Tanaka was endlessly nice, but even as I spoke, my thoughts were elsewhere.
In that moment, Kurumi had looked nothing like the girl I knew—the one who wanted to wreak havoc on the festival. What lay beneath her melancholy?
“……”
One possibility sprang to mind. Maybe, just maybe, she felt the same way I did.
For the last few days—or rather, since I’d thanked the club leaders the previous week—I’d been plagued by a nagging sense of doubt. I’d stuffed it back down, put a lid on it, tried not to give it my attention—but now I took it back out and peered into its depths.
At that point, I stopped in my tracks and turned around. Kurumi had already vanished into the crowd. But when I held my doubt up to the setting sun, I was pretty sure its outline looked just like Kurumi.
“Natsume?” asked Tanaka.
What were we—no, what was I trying to accomplish?
Revenge? Resistance? Change?
I got all that. I got it, but something felt wrong.
Did we really comprehend what this next attack would cost?