I had my first cigarette in ages.
After all the kissing and rebelling Kurumi and I had done, an empty gesture like this could hardly scratch my itch. But I had to do something, or I’d never pull myself together.
I stayed in the stall till I caught my breath, then headed for the roof.
I walked all the way up the stairs and reached for the metal door like I always did.
“Huh? It won’t open?”
I turned the knob, put my back into it—but the roof door wouldn’t budge.
Oh. I guess that makes sense. Our class’s students had just been up here to hang the banners. This door had only been open because someone else had forgotten to lock it. I should have realized—the next time someone used the roof, they’d fix that little slipup.
Now what? I don’t know anywhere else to smoke. Am I out of luck?
“……”
I looked at the ceiling. No smoke detectors.
Why not just smoke here? I was past caring.
I pulled out a cigarette and a lighter right there on the landing.
Holding the cigarette butt to my lips, I lit the tip. It turned red, then black, then white. I slowly inhaled, just enough to fill my mouth, not letting the smoke into my lungs.
“Whew.”
I blew it back out, and the gray smoke curled upward. It lingered, caught against the ceiling, bumping the walls, filling up the room. It writhed clumsily. What’s with this? No matter how much smoke I made, I didn’t feel any better.
There was a lump in my chest, and none of that guilty pleasure I used to feel. I kept smoking, but it was making me sick. Frustration was eating away at my stomach.
“…Ugh.”
Had I built up a tolerance? Or had I just finally snapped?
How can I feel better? How can I find an outlet for this rage and hatred and grief and discomfort? Somebody tell me. Please.
“We’re really gonna do this here? If they catch us, we’ll be in big trouble.”
I was about to release another puff when I heard voices.
“…?!”
I quickly ducked down. There was a little wall at the top of the stairs, and I hid behind that. I put out my cigarette and stashed it in my portable ashtray.
I pricked up my ears. The voices’ owners didn’t seem to be climbing any farther. I’d moved in time and hadn’t made any noise.
Am I good? …They must not have noticed me. That was close. I was almost caught.
…Isn’t everyone supposed to be rehearsing? Who the heck is it? Why are they up here?
“I was about to leave for a party with my friends.”
“Sorry, sorry. I just had to see you.”
“Please. You’re always so impulsive.”
It was a boy and a girl. From their tone, they seemed pretty intimate. A couple? That was against Saigou High rules.
I held my breath, intending to wait until they’d passed.
“C’mon, face me. Tilt your head up a bit.”
“…Like this?”
……
Wait a second. I know that voice.
I was absolutely sure. I’d just heard it earlier today.
It had to be her. I’d know that soprano anywhere.
I peeped out around the edge of the wall.
And there she was. I could see everything.
“Yumi… You’re so cute…”
“Mm… Thanks. You’re pretty cool yourself, Takumi.”
A floor below me, Tanaka was kissing a boy I didn’t recognize. Both were acting bashful about it, but they were staring into each other’s eyes, their faces close, noses bumping.
And then their bodies pressed together, and their lips locked. He had a few centimeters on her, so she had to look up.
Tanaka’s cheeks were red, her eyes unfocused.
“Mmph… Yumi… Mm.”
“Takumi… Can you…? Mmph…”
I pressed my back to the wall, then slowly slid down into a crouch.
There was smoke in my mouth, and I slowly let it all out.
What awful luck. With them making out down there, I couldn’t exactly leave.
“Mm… Yumi… Smooch… Yumi…”
“Slurp… Takumi… Mmph!”
I could hear heavy breathing and wet, smacking sounds.
I was in no frame of mind to witness anyone else’s happiness. This was torture.
Just as I considered clapping my hands over my ears, the sounds stopped.
“Gasp! …So, Yumi, how long you gonna stay in the bad classes? I’m taking the time to help you study when I should be focusing on entrance exams. Get a move on already!”
“…I will.”
“You can’t keep hanging around with those idiots. You’re dating a good student. You’ve gotta get on my level, or you’ll embarrass me.”
“…Mm, I know. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not looking for an apology! Mm.”
The conversation ended, and they were kissing again. I could hear the wet, sloppy noises echoing off the walls. They were like a solvent, slowly dissolving the shell that had been covering up the real Yumi Tanaka.
“……”
Suddenly, I was forced to think. What had she meant to me?
From what they’d said, the guy with her was in a good class.
That didn’t bother me, but the way she’d apologized when he said she was embarrassing him did. Was she that corrupted? That brainwashed?
I’d been happy to receive her pity. The pity of someone like that. How stupid was I?
“Mmph… Yumi, come closer.”
“Mm… Mmm…”
How long is this going to last? Get the hell out of here!
There had to be more to kissing than just this…basic sexual relief. More guilt, illicit thrills, a jolt of anxiety.
Don’t take how I feel—how we feel—and waste it on tawdry shows of empty affection.
“Yumi, I bet you’re bragging about having a boyfriend in the upper-ranking classes.”
“……I guess.”
She’d just confirmed it. I gnashed my teeth.
Bad classes, good classes. Those who had to listen to abuse and those who didn’t.
Don’t bring all that baggage into your goddamn personal relationships.
Was that normal? Did everyone go through life conscious of their status, obeying whatever values they were taught, without question? Did everyone stick with those they saw as peers, sucking up to their “betters” without thinking about it? Didn’t they see anything wrong with that?
That wasn’t friendship, and it wasn’t love. It was just playing at life, letting yourself be propelled by inertia and resignation.
Who cared about studying? What did grades matter? Screw the SaiHigh Law! None of this was funny. How did no one see that our very humanity was being twisted all out of shape?
Bringing back the festival hadn’t done anything. Nothing had changed.
I’d been a fool. I should never have suggested calling it off. I’d let myself be swayed by fleeting emotions, and I hadn’t fixed one damn thing.
I’d made the wrong choice. I’d been wrong about making the “right” choice.
Now I understood. I had to blow this cesspool up.
“Mm… Takumi… Smooch…”
“Gasp! …Haah… Yumi…just a little longer…”
When they locked lips again, I shared a kiss of my own—with a new cigarette.
Clutching the butt to my lips, I lit it up.
I didn’t know much about tobacco, but my father’s brand must have been pretty heavy-duty.
Right then, I realized that for the first time.