The moment the broadcast began, I shot out of the clubroom.
I knew what “sounds of daily life” really meant.
“Kurumi…!”
I rushed down the hall like I was trying to outrun the heat itself.
My destination: the broadcast booth on the second floor of the main building.
I didn’t know what she’d meant by a “fake taste of high school life,” or what was going on with that membership application, or what Kurumi was really after. But I knew what was about to happen, and I knew what I had to do about it.
Move. You have to get to Kurumi before anyone realizes what this broadcast is really about.
“Saigou High is a preparatory school where students toil together to earn a ticket to colleges with demanding entry requirements.”
By this point, I’d left the club building behind and was hurtling across the schoolyard.
The scene around the school hadn’t changed much—students were everywhere, enjoying the festival. Nobody was paying any attention to the broadcast. They probably assumed it was just part of the goings-on.
“We take pride in the quality of our classes and thought you might like to hear what they’re like.”
I threaded my way through the crowds as fast as I could.
Lack of exercise slowed me down, but I forced my aching muscles to work and took the stairs two at a time.
I reached the east end of the main building. It was filled with special-purpose classrooms, so there weren’t any festival displays.
The closer I got to my goal, the more the crowds thinned and the noise subsided.
Halfway down the second-floor hall were some orange cones with a warning bar across the top. From that, someone had hung a sign reading, NO TRESPASSING, FACULTY ONLY.
I ignored this and vaulted over the bar, then raced down the rest of the corridor.
That sign must mean I was on the right track. The broadcast booth had to be down this hallway, and I knew I’d find Kurumi inside.
“I know there are many visitors today considering joining us here at Saigou High, and we hope this will help you make a decision.”
I could see it now. A plain, gray door. A red light outside, meaning “on air.”
“Please have a listen to a typical Saigou High lesson.”
I turned the knob, almost tackling the door.
The inside of the room was purely functional, devoid of color. There were sound-absorbing walls, a rack of audio equipment, and in the middle of it all…
…a girl, perched on a chair. She spun around to face me.
I saw her pale pink lips, her long eyelashes, and her eyes that gleamed like black quartz. She was in uniform, but I could see the ash-gray underlayer of her bobbed hair. She wore her newsboy hat with the cat ears. Before me was a bad girl with a dash of little sister appeal.
“…Kurumi.”
It was her. Kurumi Hoshimiya in the flesh.
Her eyes went wide, then narrowed as her lips curled into a mean smile.
“…Oh. Hey there, Natsume. Long time no see.”
“Hahh…hahh… I don’t think that’s…quite right…”
I wheezed, and she snorted.
“You’re out of breath. Why the big hurry? I’m impressed you knew to find me here.”
“I knew what you were up to the moment you started that broadcast.”
“And what, exactly, am I up to? I don’t believe I said anything strange.” As she gazed at me, her face went blank. “I’m just playing a tape of our lessons. Nothing out of the ordinary about that. You’re only here because you remember our plan to ruin the festival.”
“……”
“That’s why I’m impressed,” she said, shrugging. Her voice was dripping with spite.
She was implying that because I argued against the plan, she assumed I’d forget all about it.
I wanted to defend myself, but I didn’t know what would get through to her.
Now that I’d found her, what did I have to say? My regrets, my questions, my emotions—everything I wanted to tell her was all mixed up inside me. My head spun, and I couldn’t form words.
“Natsume,” she said, getting up before I could say anything. She took a step closer and glared up at me. “Did you enjoy the fake taste of high school life I arranged for you?” Her tone was aggressive.
That’s right. I wanted to ask her about that.
“The thing you wrote in your notebook? I read it. What did you mean?”
“You didn’t get it? I stuck a hint between the pages.”
She must have meant the club membership application. I’d seen it, but it hadn’t led to any answers. I’d chosen getting here over thinking about it.
When I said nothing, she scoffed, “Wow, do I really have to spell it out for you? I was talking about Tanaka!”
“What about her?”
“When she started treating you nicely all of a sudden, you didn’t think that was weird?”
“…What are you saying?”
“Ugh, you are so dumb. Let me start from the beginning.”
Kurumi sneered at me and launched into a monologue, like some criminal mastermind.
“I recruited you for my resistance movement. But at the time, I had no grounds to trust you. I wasn’t even sure if you really hated our school.”
“You don’t say… So, what?”
“I needed to determine if you were a true comrade. I racked my brain for a way to do that and realized Tanaka was in your class. She’s technically a member of the Stargazing Club, even if she never comes to meetings. And she feels guilty about that, like she owes me.”
Kurumi was peering into my face, watching me closely.
“I used her to test your thirst for vengeance.”
“To test me? How, exactly?”
“Nothing terribly complicated. I just put on a worried frown and told her, ‘A boy named Ren Natsume is in your class, and everyone’s ostracizing him. Could you be nice to him on the sly?’”
“I don’t get it. How is that a test?”
“For better or worse, Tanaka is a typical Saigou High student. If someone like her being nice to you makes you feel guilty about what we’re doing, then you’re not fit to share in my vengeance. That’s it, plain and simple.”
Ah. And I fell for it and got all chummy with Tanaka.
I was lured in by the illusion of a normal high school life and never even realized it was a trap.
“That explains it. That’s what you meant, huh?”
“Yep,” Kurumi said with a nod.
I could suddenly think of a bunch of things that proved what Kurumi was saying. For example, how we bumped into each other on the shopping trip, and how Tanaka didn’t seem surprised that we knew each other.
Of course she wasn’t. She already knew. Tanaka speaking to me and trying to help me out was all part of Kurumi’s plot. It made me sad, but it didn’t shock me. To be honest, it explained a lot.
To me, Tanaka had been like a single flower blooming in a desert. No matter how awful the environment, she was able to keep an eye on those around her and offer them kindness. It had seemed almost miraculous.
But I’d been wrong. She was nothing like that. People like that didn’t exist. This was reality, and girls who were nice to you for no reason only existed in fiction.
The first seventeen years of my life had taught me that, and this just proved that I’d been right. It was almost a relief.
“…Hmph. Don’t get too mad about it. I called it a test, but sending Tanaka to help you was also a present.” She looked away awkwardly. “If you failed my test, at least you’d have a new friend, right? I figured I’d leave you to it. She could help you join the other students again. Wouldn’t that be the best ending for you?”
Ah. If I passed the test, I’d be a true comrade. And if I failed it, I could go back to a normal life, with Tanaka’s help.
That was Kurumi’s plan all along.
It seemed very like her, though I supposed it wasn’t like any of the other plans she’d shared with me in the past.
“Do you understand now?” she asked. “For the past two months, you were dancing in the palm of my hand.”
A fake taste of high school life. A present from Kurumi. I knew all too well what that meant.
“It’s a shame it had to end like this. You failed my test. You made friends with Tanaka, turned away from revenge, and backed out of our plan to ruin the festival.” Kurumi shrugged dramatically, and then she took a step forward and poked me hard in the chest. “I despise your weakness. Begone!”
She was spitting fire, but the brim of her hat hid her face from view.
I started to reach out to her, then thought better of it and turned on my heel.
It made me sad, but she was right. I’d failed to meet her expectations. I hadn’t actually soured on the idea of revenge, but it was true that I’d tried to call off our plan this time for the sake of Tanaka and the soccer team captain. If Kurumi despised me for that, then we were done. Apologizing wasn’t going to cut it. She’d never listen to me.