The day Kurumi blackmailed me into becoming her accomplice, we split up without further action. It was time to leave school, and she promised we would formulate a proper plan later. For my part, I wanted to sort out my thoughts, so I had no objections.
We traded contact info, and I headed home.
Joining the flood of students leaving after-school clubs, I headed to the nearest train station.
I was stuck on the platform for half an hour, waiting. The local train eventually showed up a few minutes late, and I boarded it.
There were too many commuters to sit, so I stood, hanging on to a leather strap to keep my balance. I stayed on the train, getting jostled around, for a total of fifteen minutes. Then I changed trains and spent forty more minutes on another train, also standing. The last leg of my trip was a twenty-minute bike ride.
I pedaled through a residential area. Every home had lit windows save for the one, about halfway down the street, with “Natsume” on the sign out front. This was my house—or more accurately, my dad’s.
I parked my bike next to the empty carport, unlocked the front door, and went inside.
Silence and darkness welcomed me. I felt my way to the light switch and turned it on. This brightened the place up, but since all it revealed were plain white walls and hardwood floors, the view remained depressing.
I shucked off my shoes and moved to the living room, turning on the lights as I went.
“……”
I knew no one would answer, so I never bothered announcing that I was home.
My parents never got along. They used to have screaming fights on a daily basis. They constantly talked shit about each other, and my mother would disappear for long stretches at a time. When things got really bad, my dad would move in his mistresses. Eventually, my mother couldn’t take it anymore and filed for divorce. That was eight years ago.
I don’t know what kind of discussions took place, but I wound up with my dad. My sister, who was four years older than I was, went with my mom. That was how our family split up, and this house became half-empty.
My dad was a busy man and rarely around. I basically had the place to myself. He was out again today, as evidenced by the darkened windows.
“…Here we go again.”
I found three ten-thousand-yen bills on the table in the living room. I’d be using these for food money for the foreseeable future. It was a routine so established, my dad didn’t even leave a note.
I wasn’t lonely or disappointed; I was used to this, so it was whatever. I don’t know if their marriage problems were to blame, but neither of my parents had ever paid much attention to me.
They expended the minimum effort to keep up appearances, but otherwise left me to my own devices. They never came to parents’ day or sports festivals at school and showed no interest in my grades or test scores.
The only time my father ever butted in was when I’d chosen which high school to attend—the sole point in my life where he’d intervened.
I’d basically raised myself.
Yeah, I guess I’ve always made my own decisions. Maybe that’s why I was so scared today.
How would a father like him react to me smoking? What would he say if he found out I’d sworn vengeance on my school?
I had no idea. And I was terrified of the unknown.
His face was always like a mask, and it scared me to imagine it twisting with emotion. Maybe nothing I could do would ever shatter that poker face—and I hated that idea, too. I was scared to find out how little he really cared.
I briefly wondered if growing up watching my parents fight was what made me so sensitive to the teachers’ verbal abuse. Maybe the reason I didn’t want to screw up was because my parents’ neglect had given me a particularly strong sense of responsibility for my own actions.
How strange. My parents had barely raised me, and yet they still defined my values. I supposed that was inevitable. I, like most high school students, didn’t have a lot of contact with adults outside of my parents and teachers. But thinking about this stuff didn’t change anything.
I had no energy to go out. Should I get something delivered?
I picked up my phone, and a cheery jingle played. I had a new message. The sender’s field read “Kurumi.”
“Natsume! Come to the room at the very back of the old club annex tomorrow. We need to strategize!”
I opened the chat app and typed the first thing that came to mind.
“As you wish, Lady Kurumi.”
“Just Kurumi is fine! Or does calling me ‘Lady’ do it for you?”
She included a picture of a cat with narrow, beady eyes, which I left on read.
It didn’t matter how scared I was of my dad’s reaction. As long as she had that photo of me smoking, I had to obey.
I could only hope this wasn’t the beginning of a terrible new stage of my life. Then again, I had the feeling people who swore vengeance didn’t usually get happy endings.
…I wonder if we have any instant ramen left in the kitchen.
✦ ✦ ✦
“…The Stargazing Club.”
After school the next day, I found myself in the very back of the old club annex, staring at a sign above the door. This wasn’t the original sign, just a piece of paper taped over it—but that hardly mattered.
Kurumi had told me to meet in a clubroom for a club I’d never heard of. Was this even the right place?
I glanced back down the way I’d come, but there were no other hallways to try. The old club annex was a single-story building, so this was the only place she could have meant. This had to be her intended meeting spot.
Hmm. She wants us to strategize here?
It was a totally ordinary clubroom. Could I just waltz in?
I knew nothing about the Stargazing Club, so I wasn’t sure what the proper protocol was. It was probably safe to say, “Pardon me,” as I walked inside, but if Kurumi was the only one there, I’d be totally embarrassed.
Was I overthinking things? That’s just how I am, I guess.
But standing around in the hall like this was going to arouse suspicion. I had to at least knock. I reached for the door—and it swung open.
“Oh, I thought I heard noises! There you are, Natsume.”
A pair of cat ears appeared before my eyes. Had a cute kitten come bounding out of the room? No. Kurumi’s newsboy hat had ears on it. She bowed, wiggling the hat and ears.
“Come in, come in,” she said. “You got here faster than I expected!”
“You startled me. I didn’t recognize you with that hat on.”
“Oh, this? Heh-heh, pretty sweet, isn’t it?” She adjusted the hat, a smug smirk on her face.
Objectively, Kurumi was pretty cute. The hat, with its little ears, appeared to grow right out of her black and ash-gray hair, making her look like a gray tabby cat.
“Why are you wearing a hat inside?” I asked. “Aren’t you supposed to take that off?”
“An excellent question!” she said, puffing herself up. “I’ve decided to wear this hat during all our vengeful activities as a symbol of my minority status. It’ll help me mentally change modes.”
Ah. So when she’s wearing the hat, she’s Kurumi Hoshimiya: Vengeance Mode.
It seemed Kurumi was the type who liked to externalize things. I decided to leave her to it. It was pretty cute, after all.
“When I’ve got this hat on, I’m being bad. Maximum evil! Don’t you forget it, Natsume.”
“Right, okay. Will do.”