Chapter 4: How We Spend Our Time

Chapter 4:
How We Spend Our Time

 

IT WAS THE TWENTY-FOURTH of December. Christmas Eve.

Today and tomorrow, even busy couples would go out of their way to spend time with one another. To most students, these were still ordinary days, but I was curious about how people would spend them.

I left my room before seven o’clock in the morning. I had separate engagements with two different people—one whom I’d asked to meet, and one who’d invited me out. Bizarre.

When I left the dormitory, everything around me had turned completely white. It seemed like a true winter morning.

“Snow sure piles up, huh?” I muttered. Nature was certainly incredible.

The snow fell heavily, but according to the forecast, it was supposed to stop around seven. Even though the temperature was almost the same as it was yesterday, the sight of such heavy snow made me feel colder. I should probably start wearing gloves and a scarf now.

Since it was before seven in the morning, most students were still asleep; the campus was empty as I approached a bench near Keyaki Mall. Clearing off some snow, I sat. Soon, a man appeared.

“It’s rude to ask somebody to come out so early in the mornin’,” he spat.

Ryuuen Kakeru, Class C’s leader—no, its former leader—glared sharply at me.

“I needed to meet you when I was sure no one else would be around.”

“That’s your problem. It’s got nothin’ to do with me.” True. I had more to lose being seen with Ryuuen than he did with me. “So, what do you need?”

“I thought we could make small talk.”

“Hah. That’s a real funny joke for a real shitty morning.”

“Come to think of it, I saw you yesterday,” I said. “Plus Ishizaki and some other guys.”

“What, are you happy you stopped me from dropping out?”

“I’m impressed. Even though you’re all alone, you’re not hiding in your room and sulking.”

“I do whatever I want, wherever I want. Does it scare you to see me out? After all, you don’t know when I’m gonna take revenge.”

“And after you take revenge, I’ll regret that I didn’t get you expelled?”

Ryuuen kicked snow off the bench, then sat beside me.

“I’d like you to hold off on that, if possible. I’d rather live peacefully. Fighting you again would just be a pain,” I told him.

“Then don’t ask me to meet you! Don’t draw my attention back to you.”

I decided to dispense with the small talk and cut straight to the heart of the matter. If I dragged this out too long, Ryuuen would just get up and leave.

“Regarding what happened on the roof the other day… I wanted to add something to that story,” I said.

“Add something?” Ryuuen sounded wary. Analyzing his defeat wouldn’t be fun for him.

Still, I had to show him the truth he couldn’t face. “If you’d been alone up there, you could’ve stuck it out. You would’ve been able to keep fighting.”

However, Ibuki, Ishizaki, and Albert had been there. Their presence, and the knowledge that they’d share the blame for whatever happened, might’ve hastened Ryuuen’s decision. He surrendered after seeing that possibility down the road, not just because of what happened in the moment.

It was a wise move. Of course, I’d manipulated him into it. But in terms of living up to my expectations, Ryuuen had a great deal of potential after all.

“You really are a piece of work, huh?” Ryuuen snapped. “I’m amazed at how far you’ll go just to screw with people. I thought that was my specialty, but you put me outta business.”

“I’m only speaking the truth.”

“I’m guessing that this benefits you in some way, and that’s why you used Ishizaki and the others to stop me from dropping out?”

Hmm. I’d hoped that Ryuuen might catch on by now, but it seemed that wasn’t happening.

“Do you really think you can still make me your puppet?” he demanded.

“Puppet? What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb. I’m talking about using me to take down the other classes. Why else would you keep me at this school?”

“You’re a man who enjoys battle, aren’t you?” I asked.

“Even if, for argument’s sake, I crushed Classes A and B—with you around, it’d be meaningless.”

Quite a definitive statement. “What? Did I break you that badly after just one defeat?” I asked.

Anger sparked in Ryuuen’s eyes. “You wanna go? Right here and now?”

“I said too much. Please forgive me.”

If the whole incident on the roof hadn’t happened, Ryuuen probably would’ve punched me out. This guy didn’t know fear.

But he’d learned it since then.

Even so, Ryuuen would likely have fought me right here and now if I pushed him enough. Still, he had to avoid dropping out or being expelled if he was ever going to mature.

“We’ve already settled the score between us,” I said. “I won’t bring up the rooftop anymore after this. I promise this is the last time. So, let’s talk.”

Of course, Ryuuen didn’t believe a word I said. “Talk is pointless. I can’t see what I get outta this. I’m leaving.”

He stood up, looking angry.

“You might get something useful,” I replied, stopping him in his tracks.

Ryuuen sat back down without looking at me. He’d probably risen to draw something out of me. He had no intention of going home empty-handed.

“Interpret this however you like, but don’t you think these simple battles are getting boring?” I asked.

Ryuuen looked annoyed. “Simple battles, huh?”

“Class D beats C, then B, and finally A. Then, Horikita and the rest of us become Class A ourselves,” I said. “It sounds like the formula for a big-budget movie. But we needn’t adhere to such a formulaic structure, right?”

Real life didn’t conform to a narrative. We were free to strike Class A before going for Class B, or even to ally with our enemies, Class C.

“Interestingly enough, it seems that Class A will attack Class B once the third semester begins. We could take Class A out with a single strike while they’re focused on that,” I told Ryuuen.

He suddenly looked interested. “How credible is this information?”

“I’d say about fifty-fifty.” I had to consider whether Sakayanagi was bluffing. If I read her correctly, though, there was a ninety percent chance she’d told me the truth.

“If your information’s solid, this’d be a good chance. But I thought you Class D folks had a whole non-aggression thing going on with Class B? Striking at Class A is all well and good, but they’d crush Class B in the meantime. Ichinose can’t beat Sakayanagi,” said Ryuuen.

“I don’t care who wins or loses. I don’t plan on getting involved.”

“So, you’re just gonna watch her burn, huh?”

“If Sakayanagi crushes Ichinose, that saves me the effort. It could clear Class D’s path to Class A. Besides, this’s Sakayanagi we’re talking about. It might be time I looked up what kind of infractions the school punishes with expulsion.”

“There’s a lot I don’t like about this. You have no ambition to rise. Don’t you want to stay invisible?” Ryuuen asked.

“I do, but if people around me take their own actions…well, I’m fine with that. I’m not opposed to the idea of us rising to Class A easily,” I told him.

“So, you’re just gonna sit back and observe?”

“I need a problem taken care of. There’s someone rather troublesome in my class.”

“Kikyou, huh?” Ryuuen didn’t even need to think about it. “Yeah, she’s certainly giving you a lot of trouble. The way this school works, having an enemy on the inside’s real bad.”

Kushida was targeting Horikita at the moment, and causing enough problems in the process that she—rather than moving up to Class A—was my primary concern. Since I’d been a bit reckless during the incident on the rooftop, I couldn’t afford to make an enemy of Horikita Manabu, the former student council president. If Horikita Suzune, his sister, was expelled while he was still at this school, he’d show me no mercy.

I wanted to avoid anything that endangered my school life’s tranquility.

“Kikyou contacted me the other day, actually. She was askin’ when I’d attack. Unfortunately, I was engrossed in hunting you down, so I didn’t respond. Seems she hasn’t given up on getting Suzune expelled. She’s looking for the opportunity to pounce. Heh. She’s quite a girl,” said Ryuuen.

“If you’d made good use of Kushida, you could’ve dealt a heavy blow to my class.”

“To Suzune or your class, sure. But Kikyou’s way too weak to take down someone like you. You don’t care about anything.”

True.

“So, what’re you planning?” Ryuuen demanded. “You can slow a cancer’s growth, but it’s not going away till it’s excised, y’know? That shit can spread.”

And then we’d all die. “I know that.”

“Oh? Then let’s hear your plan, Ayanokouji. How’re you gonna end Kikyou?”

“Do I need to answer that?”

“Whether I help you might depend on your reply.” A faint smile appeared on Ryuuen’s lips, but maybe his mouth was still tender where I’d hit him, because the smile immediately faded.

It’d gotten colder. Staying outside for too long right now wasn’t wise.

“In the third semester, Class D will be promoted to Class C,” I said. “However, we’ll probably fall back down to D when I get Kushida Kikyou expelled.”

“Heh heh. Ha ha ha ha!” Ryuuen howled with laughter despite his pain. “You really are terrifying. You’ll sink your class if it means taking down your enemies, huh? I knew you had it in you, Ayanokouji.”

“We can help each other with this particular endeavor without formally establishing an alliance, don’t you agree?”

“Heh. This talk about getting rid of Kikyou tickles me. But going along with your bullshit and recklessly attacking Class A? Different story.”

“It could work, though.”

“Save it. If I’m going to throw down, I’d rather target you.” Some of Ryuuen’s vigor had returned, judging by his heated gaze. Even after learning fear, his eyes still had that sharp gleam. “It seems like you plan on using me, Ayanokouji. But I have no intention of being used.”

“Seems that way.” Ryuuen appeared ready to disappear from center stage. Maybe he had plans to enact in the wings. “Let me give you a piece of advice,” I said. “Your plan with the private points—it’s not a bad strategy, but it’s flawed. Even if one or two people make it, taking the entire class with you is impossible.”

“Ibuki spilled the beans, huh?”

“She didn’t spill anything. She just asked me whether it was possible to save eight hundred million points.”

That was likely Ryuuen’s strategy. Never in this school’s history had it worked. I initially thought he was only saving enough points to buy his own way to Class A, or perhaps to promote himself and those closest to him. He’d surrendered his private points on the rooftop because he’d meant to drop out. I would’ve expected him to go underground and collect private points again if he planned to stay in school.

However, judging from what Ibuki said, Ryuuen was trying to find a way for his entire class to win. To be a tyrant, you had to provide your followers with some acceptable quid pro quo.

Of course, he could just as easily renege on a promise. “Perhaps you were only pretending to save eight hundred million points?” I asked.

If he’d deceived Ibuki, too, this conversation was over.

“Even if you exhausted the points you have now, the contract with Class A’s still in place,” I continued. “If you bring in eight hundred thousand points per month, you’ll need twenty-five months to reach your goal. You’d just barely make it before graduation. If you factor in the private points you need to use every month, you’ll squeak past.”

Of course, that was based on the assumption that Class A wouldn’t collapse in the interim, and that Ryuuen could avoid unnecessary expenditures.

“You’re certainly a clever guy, Ayanokouji, but you’re far from perfect.” Ryuuen wasn’t joking. He sounded like he was mocking me, but not like he was bluffing.

“So, you have some secret plan to save your entire class, Ryuuen?”

“Listen. An enormous amount of private points move around in a year. There are a hundred and sixty people per grade, if we assume no expulsions. If we add all three grades together, that’s four hundred and eighty students. If I can squeeze a hundred thousand points out of every student per month, that alone gives me forty-eight million points. If I get two hundred thousand points or more a month, I can snag up to one hundred million.”

After just eight months, he’d save about eight hundred million. But even if those calculations checked out in theory, they wouldn’t work in practice. The school would probably strengthen its surveillance if it noticed massive numbers of private points moving around, for instance. If they caught Ryuuen in the act, they’d immediately reclaim those points and hit him with a penalty.

I did the math in my mind with a mental abacus.

Assuming that Class C’s cooperation was a given, and assuming that Ryuuen got the highest possible level of points—one thousand points per month—that made about fifty million points in a year. Doing well at the special exams might net an extra ten million points or so. That averaged out to sixty million points a year, not even two hundred million.

I stared at Ryuuen as I thought. “You can’t reach that number. Or can you?” What strategy did he have in mind? What couldn’t I see?

“You and I have similar methods, but fundamentally different thought processes,” he replied.

“My policy is to avoid choices with low probabilities of success,” I told him.

“Of course. But you can see it, can’t you? The strategy?”

“Yeah. Originally, I thought you had a zero-percent chance of success. Now, I’d estimate five percent or higher.” However, to pull it off, a few things were absolutely essential.

“Anyway, Ayanokouji…why’re you covered in snow?” Ryuuen brought my focus back to my physical appearance.

“Ah. It just…happened. The sensation of snow is quite refreshing. Is that weird?”

I’d remained still during the snowfall, allowing it to blanket my head and shoulders. I was grateful that Ryuuen pointed it out, but I didn’t brush it off. It’d melt on its own soon enough.

“You really are an odd one,” said Ryuuen.

“Well, now that you’ve heard my pitch, I think we might work together,” I told him.

“It sounds too good to be true. Something stinks,” Ryuuen retorted. “You’d get rid of anyone, even your allies, without hesitation. How can we work together when we’re thinking about stabbing each other in the back?”

“If you’re afraid of someone outsmarting you, then you simply have to outsmart them first. That’s all there is to it, Ryuuen.” I wasn’t looking to make a friend. Ryuuen and I merely had shared interests. In some sense, that was the perfect basis for a relationship.

“In that case, Ayanokouji, I’ll lay the groundwork.”

“Lay the groundwork?”

“Next semester, Kaneda and Hiyori will probably lead Class C…no, Class D. I’ll let them know that it’s in our best interest to attack Class A instead of you guys,” said Ryuuen.

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” If Kaneda and Hiyori did decide to attack us, though, it’d be a hassle. Ishizaki and Ibuki, in particular, disliked me. They might try to influence their class to challenge mine.

“However, my help comes with a price. If you give me what I want when you guys move up to Class A, we can work together.”

“So, you’ll be pulling Shiina’s strings behind the scenes as well?” I asked.

“Impossible. I already told ’em I’d step down.”

“You want a lot for a small favor.”

“I don’t come cheap, Ayanokouji.”

I thought about his contract with Katsuragi. Ryuuen was happy to slip a hand into his opponent’s pocket.

“Well, I’m fine with your terms, but we can’t put them on paper. It’s a verbal agreement,” I told him.

“Heh. I didn’t exactly expect a signed document, since you like working in the shadows. Remember, if you welch on our deal, I won’t show you any mercy. I’ll make you regret it.”

“Answer me one thing. Even if you and I reach an agreement today, doesn’t the whole strategy fall apart if you can’t convince your class?” That would require a fair amount of skill and luck. If anyone had those things, though, it was Ryuuen.

“I don’t know. That’ll be up to Kaneda and Hiyori,” he answered.

In other words, Ryuuen was merely setting the stage. As the guy who’d ruled Class C with an iron fist, he probably thought it was the least he could do to make amends.

“Our negotiations are finished, then,” I said, shaking Ryuuen’s hand.

He couldn’t be controlled that easily. Even though he was “retired” now, I would need to work hard to keep him out of my way. I couldn’t afford to be careless.

“So, that’s it? In your original invitation, it sounded like you wanted me to meet somebody, but I can’t imagine there’s anyone worthwhile among the first years.”

“That’s right. It’s no first year,” I replied.

“Huh?”

“It’s time.”

Punctual as ever, a young man approached us. Upon seeing who it was, even Ryuuen couldn’t hide his surprise. “Really? This is who you wanted me to meet?”

I ignored Ryuuen and spoke to Horikita Manabu. “Sorry for calling you out so early.”

“It’s no bother. This is a good time for a secret meeting. A good place, too.”

The school campus provided limited options. At our current position, I could see anyone coming from a mile away. That had its uses.

“Seems like you’re pretty close with the former student council president. That’s probably useful for Suzune too, eh?” asked Ryuuen, chuckling. Of course, he’d already guessed that she was Manabu’s younger sister.

“I thought you’d be alone, Ayanokouji.” Manabu didn’t sound especially shocked to see Ryuuen, though. The elder Horikita briefly noted that I was thoroughly covered in snow. Then he continued, ignoring the sight utterly. “I assume Ryuuen Kakeru is a coconspirator. I’ll speak quickly, then. There’s no telling who might spot us.”

“Wait just a second. Who are you calling a coconspirator?” asked Ryuuen.

“At the very least, he’s not an enemy,” I told Manabu.

“Ayanokouji, do you recall the promise you made when you sought my help earlier?” Manabu asked.

“Yeah. It was about helping you stop Nagumo Miyabi, right?”

“Nagumo? The new student council president?” Ryuuen asked.

Ryuuen was here because I wanted him to know what concerned Horikita’s older brother. “It seems he doesn’t really like Nagumo’s way of doing things,” I explained.

“I see. So, you plan to use Ayanokouji to stop Nagumo? Word has it he’s dominatin’ the second years. That means you gotta use a first-year student to deal with him, huh? Tell me, Horikita, since when have you had your eye on Ayanokouji?” asked Ryuuen, addressing the upperclassman condescendingly.

“Since soon after he enrolled. It appears that your path to understanding him has been longer and more arduous,” replied the elder Horikita. He sounded more indifferent than defensive.

“Heh. I’m the type of guy who thoroughly enjoys the journey,” said Ryuuen.

“Yet you appear to have been beaten,” Horikita Manabu shot back.

Ryuuen glared. “If you think I’m so easy to beat, care to put your fists up and find out?”

“I’ll pass, thank you,” answered Horikita calmly.

“Heh. I thought so,” Ryuuen snorted.

He crouched—then launched a front kick, sending snow flying toward Horikita’s face. His goal was to blind Horikita. Ryuuen jabbed at his opponent’s abdomen, but Horikita blocked the attack completely, even though Ryuuen had obstructed his vision. He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, looking completely unfazed.

“I thought you were some intellectual jerkoff who only had book smarts, but you ain’t half bad,” said Ryuuen—a rare compliment.

“I already told you I didn’t choose to fight,” Horikita repeated.

“What’s the matter? If you’re not happy, you can come at me anytime. Or maybe you don’t fight against first years?” taunted Ryuuen.

“You’ve made quite a fascinating friend, Ayanokouji.” Horikita brushed snow and dirt from his clothes.

“Well, whatever. I suppose you’re somewhat capable, Horikita-senpai.” Ryuuen tacked on a sarcastic honorific.

“Likewise. You aren’t fit to serve on the student council, but I suppose you’ve some measure of worth.”

“Whoa. Complimented by the former student council president. What an honor.”

Now that the two had finished their back-and-forth, the elder Horikita got to the point. “I’d like Ayanokouji to preserve and maintain order at this school. I don’t care by what means. Ayanokouji, you may choose whatever’s most convenient, whether that’s having Student Council President Nagumo Miyabi removed from his position, or simply obstructing his plans. Once the third semester begins, Nagumo’s power will only grow. He’ll move quickly.”

“So, how exactly are things going to change?”

“The student council isn’t all-powerful, of course. But it does wield a certain degree of authority, unlike the councils at most ordinary schools. At present, whenever a problem arises within the student body, the student council takes the lead in resolving it. Both of you should be aware of that.”

The faculty hadn’t presided over Sudou’s trial during the assault incident. Rather, it’d been the student council, headed by Horikita’s brother.

“The student council also plays a role in designing the special exams. The first years’ desert-island test was based in part on a student-council proposal.”

That meant Nagumo could create a truly terrifying special exam.

“Nagumo’s just tryin’ to make this shitty, boring-ass school into something fun, from the sound of it. We should be happy,” said Ryuuen, snorting in amusement.

“If he did it correctly, yes. However, Nagumo’s unorthodox measures have resulted in many expulsions. As a matter of fact, seventeen second-year students have already been expelled. According to their exit interviews, Nagumo was involved in over half the cases,” said Horikita.

Seventeen people. No small number.

“If he can get that many students expelled, it won’t be hard for him to rule the school,” I said.

“And, now that he’s student council president, he can control first- and third-year students, too. His influence will only grow in the third semester,” Horikita continued.

“Ain’t this Nagumo guy just being rational? If those seventeen people were worthless nobodies, then that’s why they got crushed.”

“The school will expel rule breakers. That’s only natural. However, shouldn’t a leader strive to help the entire student body graduate, without leaving anyone behind?” countered Horikita.

“Are you saying you’d never let a single person get kicked out of school, oh-so-venerable Horikita-senpai?”

“I’m speaking of the ideal scenario. Currently, no first-year students have been expelled. Pursuing the scenario where that continues isn’t a bad thing, wouldn’t you agree?”

“So you say. What do you think, Ayanokouji?”

“I think it’s fine,” I answered. “But I can also say that Ryuuen and I aren’t the type to pursue such a best-case scenario.”

“Heh. Exactly.”

If anyone was such an idealist, it’d probably be Ichinose Honami.

“Of course. I’m not trying to convert you,” Horikita said. “If you can stop Nagumo, that’s enough.”

It sounded simple. If it were, however, he wouldn’t be asking for our help.

“Well, I’m gonna head back before I get roped into becoming a coconspirator for real.” It seemed Ryuuen had no interest in student-council drama. “It was a pretty interestin’ chat, but any more would be a waste of my time. See ya.”

I called out to Ryuuen as he walked away. “Do you plan to go it alone from here on out?”

“Save it. I’ve always been alone,” Ryuuen answered. He trudged off through the snow, leaving only those words behind.

“Why did you let Ryuuen hear all that, Ayanokouji?”

“Mostly to shift his attention away from me,” I replied.

If Ryuuen felt as though he had to fight the student council, he’d be less likely to come after me. Besides, he’d probably have a lot more fun battling someone like Sakayanagi. Of course, he didn’t seem to want to fight anyone anymore.

“Well, you’ll need all the friends you can get. In that sense, someone familiar—like Ryuuen—could be an asset,” said Horikita.

“Familiar, huh?” Otherwise, what I needed right now was to collect as much data as I could. “I barely have any information on the seniors. Can you get me that?”

“Of course. I’ve already prepared it.” Horikita pulled out his cell phone. I gave him my number and received a text soon afterward.

As I scanned the message, he explained. “I’ll tell you which student council members to keep an eye on. One is Vice President Kiriyama, from the second-year Class B. Next is Secretary Mizowaki. Then there’s Secretary Tonokawa. Both secretaries are Class B students who’ve stuck with Nagumo through thick and thin. They’re also among the few students Nagumo will listen to. And now, the remaining members.”

Horikita handed over documents with attached photos, almost like resumes. I deduced who belonged to which class with only a glance. Since several students were in Class A, including the vice president, I could guess Nagumo’s real power. This was valuable information.

It wasn’t easy to contact students from other grades. I couldn’t afford to be careless, especially when it came to the student council’s circle. It must’ve taken Horikita a considerable amount of time simply to gather the information he just gave me.

“The only people who know Nagumo’s real personality and intentions are most likely those in his grade. Even though we were both in the student council, I don’t know much about him myself,” Horikita continued.

“But the second years are in his grip, which makes things more difficult.”

“Exactly. However, one second-year student opposes Nagumo,” said Horikita.

“Who?”

“Unfortunately, I cannot tell you at the current stage. I can’t guarantee their safety if Nagumo finds out.”

“He might try to get them expelled? Is that it?”

“I can protect them while I’m enrolled here, but after I graduate, that protection will be gone.”

Why was he telling me this? “You want to get me and this second-year student together, don’t you?”

“I want to mention you to them as a capable first-year student.”

Figured. If this second year had to stay undercover, that meant I should offer my name instead. I’d be in less danger. Still, I didn’t want word of me getting around.

“What you do is entirely up to you,” Horikita added.

Normally, I’d have declined. However, people like Sakayanagi and Ryuuen had already learned about me. Sakayanagi, in particular, knew a great deal about my life in the White Room. The more I tried to keep it secret, the more power I gave her. Even if I turned down Horikita’s offer, I gained nothing.

“Understood. Tell them about me.”

“A bold decision, but the correct one,” Horikita replied.

“Now, all that’s left is to see whether this works out.”

“If you don’t join forces with this student, you can’t bring Nagumo down.”

“All right. Let’s do it your way, then.”

I just wanted to be left in peace. As such, I had reservations about putting myself in Horikita’s power. If I abandoned his orders after he graduated, what happened then?

“Do you know what I’m thinking right now?” I asked.

“You’re thinking about what happens after I graduate,” he answered.

Superb.

“I didn’t think you’d broach the topic yourself,” Horikita added.

“I can’t read you,” I replied. “I have to know.”

“I don’t mind if you only cooperate until I graduate.”

“Until then, though, what if I can’t beat Nagumo?”

“I wouldn’t entrust so important a mission to someone incapable.”

Did Horikita’s brother truly think this highly of me? Or was he simply trying to flatter me? Either way, I couldn’t get a read on him. “I’ll try, but I can’t guarantee that I’ll succeed before you graduate,” I said.

“I understand.”

Why was this guy relying on a complete unknown like me? If he cared so much about the Tokyo Metropolitan Advanced Nurturing High School, he should’ve recruited a more enthusiastic person.

“I don’t expect you to move heaven and earth because of a single debt. You don’t intend to go above and beyond, either. Am I wrong?” Horikita understood everything quite well.

“As the former student council president, you still have some authority. Influence, rather,” I replied. “I figured making you my ally would be useful.” As long as I was enrolled here, I faced no shortage of risks; having friends in high places could help.

“Drop my name all you like, but don’t expect too much of me.”

“I don’t plan to. I may call in one last favor, but that’d be it.” Hopefully, I’d have no need of that.

“As you wish. Taking down Nagumo won’t be simple, after all.”

“I’ll start on a strategy. But, before that, I want to know something about your little sister.”

“You can use Suzune in any way you wish,” he replied.

“It’s not that. I’ve watched her in action for nearly a year now, and I think she possesses a certain talent. How is it you haven’t noticed that? You grew up with her.”

“Talent? What makes you think she’s talented? Her academics? Her athletic ability?” he asked.

At least he’d noticed that she was gifted in those areas. “I mean overall. She’s clumsy in some respects, but generally very capable.”

“My sister’s incompetent. She always chased after my shadow. She’s made it her goal to catch up to me. That’s foolish,” he spat.

“Is her earnestness the problem?” I asked.

“You may interpret things however you wish. It’s not going to change anything.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Still, I was beginning to understand why Horikita’s brother treated her so harshly. “If I told you that your sister was joining the student council, would you help her too?”

“I’d cooperate.”

With that in mind, I began formulating a strategy to best Nagumo.

“I have the data,” I said. “I understand what’s at risk. All that’s left for you to do is wait.”

“Very well. Remember, this school’s future depends on you.”

Laying that exorbitant pressure upon me, the elder Horikita left.

4.1

 

AFTER THAT UNUSUAL MEETING, I headed back to the dormitory. There, I hung around aimlessly until noon, surfing the web and reading books. My next move was to send a message to Horikita. With the promise of her elder brother’s attention as a reward, she’d probably consider joining the student council.

I need to talk to you.

Horikita was probably also cooped up in her room. She was fundamentally a loner; besides, she didn’t seem to like the cold that much.

A few minutes after I sent that initial message, I received a reply. I don’t mind. Can we do it over the phone? Or must it be in person?

In person, if possible. Would that work?

I’m at a café right now. Come here, and I’ll listen.

Contrary to the isolated image I’d conjured up, Horikita was actually out. Leaving again would be annoying, but the sooner I looked after this, the better.

I’m headed over. I sent the reply and put on my coat.

When I arrived at the lobby, I saw Ike, Yamauchi, and even Sudou. They didn’t appear to notice me as they headed out the door, and I didn’t call out, choosing to follow and eavesdrop on their conversation.

“So, Horikita just turned ya down for a Christmas date? Dude, what the hell, Ken?”

“Shut it, Haruki. Just drop it.”

“Man, we’re all gonna end the year without girlfriends, huh? I feel empty inside.”

“Tch. I’m just going to take things slow. It’s not like Suzune’s got a boyfriend or anythin’. It’s just… I dunno, she doesn’t seem interested in stuff like romance. I’m not gonna rush things.”

Apparently, Sudou had put the moves on Horikita, but been shot down in a spectacular fashion. An honorable defeat. He was far from giving up, though; he’d chosen to press on.

“You really got it bad, huh? Hey, Kanji, how about we pull an all-nighter at karaoke? Let’s belt out lonely Christmas songs with everything we got!”

“Huh? Wh-what?”

“Whaddya mean, ‘what’? I said we should do karaoke all night.”

“Oh, uh…sorry, Haruki. I kinda can’t today.”

“Huh? You can’t? You don’t have anything to do on Christmas Eve, do you? The only hot date you’ve got’s with your right hand.”

“You know, I actually got stuff to do, dude.” Ike was clearly agitated, but he wouldn’t say why he couldn’t go to karaoke.

Sudou, smelling blood in the water, pounced. “Hey, Kanji, don’t tell me…”

“I-It’s not like that.” Ike sputtered. He lowered his gaze. “Look, I’m just going out to dinner with a friend, that’s all.”

Anyone could tell that this “friend” wasn’t a man. A scene from yesterday flashed into my mind.

“Who is it?! Who’re you hanging out with?! Spill it!” shouted Yamauchi, losing his cool and grabbing Ike’s collar.

“I-It really ain’t that big a deal, but…Shinohara.”

“Shinohara? Wait a second…you mean, from our class? That Shinohara?!”

Ike nodded slightly.

“Dude, why Shinohara? Aren’t you two always fighting?” asked Sudou in disbelief. Yamauchi seemed to share the sentiment. Ike and Shinohara were an unexpected pair, to say the least.

“Like I said, we’re just having dinner,” replied Ike. “Come on, there’s no way I’d go for a girl like her, right? She just had some trouble a little while back, and I helped her out. She said she wanted to thank me!”

“Uh, no, dude. I dunno about ‘thanking’ you or whatever, but it’s Christmas Eve!”

“It’s no big deal!” Ike cried. “I mean, me and Shinohara going out? There’s just no way. Not even if the world was ending!”

“I don’t believe you! Come on, Ken, let’s tail ’em!”

“Dudes, knock it off! If rumors about me and an uggo like Shinohara get around, it’ll be a huge pain in the ass!” shouted Ike.

Ike and Shinohara, huh? They might actually be a well-matched couple. Of course, who knew how any of this would turn out?

4.2

 

MOST STUDENTS HUNG OUT at Keyaki Mall during winter vacation, and the place was packed. Since more than 80 percent of the café customers were female, I couldn’t find Horikita right away. After wandering a bit, I finally spotted her.

“I’m here.”

“That was fast,” she replied. I noticed that she wasn’t alone.

“Good morning, Ayanokouji-kun,” said Kushida.

This was a wholly unexpected pair. They had to be with someone else. I looked around.

“No one else is with us,” Horikita said, noting my confusion. I thought that Hirata would be here as a peacekeeper, but apparently he wasn’t.

“Not to sound strange…but which of you initiated this get-together?” I asked.

Kushida smiled gently.

“Me. I invited Kushida-san,” said Horikita.

I hadn’t anticipated that, but it made sense now that I thought about it. Horikita was trying to bury the hatchet with Kushida, and meeting in public put restrictions on what Kushida could do or say. Horikita had played this well.

“By the way, Horikita-san, how have things been with Sudou-kun recently?” asked Kushida.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, aren’t you spending Christmas with him?”

“I’d never do that,” said Horikita flatly.

“Really? Didn’t Sudou-kun ask you out?”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with the topic at hand, does it?”

Kushida had attempted to use my arrival to change the subject, but Horikita wouldn’t allow it. She could afford to be blunt, because she had two advantages: she’d won their previous bet, and the café was full of people.

“How long do you plan to stand around, Ayanokouji-kun? If you have something to say, spit it out.” Horikita clearly wanted to keep talking to Kushida.

“Sorry. I didn’t think there’d be someone else here. Another time.”

However, Kushida had apparently decided that my presence was welcome. “Come on, Horikita-san. How about we have Ayanokouji-kun join us for some tea?”

I stopped in my tracks, but didn’t sit down, feeling the pressure of Horikita’s angry silence. “Maybe next time,” I said, trying to escape.

“Wait. Say what you came here to say,” replied Horikita.

“No, it’s nothing.”

“There’s something you don’t want Kushida to hear?” Horikita asked, guessing what I was thinking.

“Is that true, Ayanokouji-kun?” Kushida wore a sad look.

I intended to deny it, but Horikita cut me off. “Kushida’s a member of our class. There’s no need for secrets.”

“This has nothing to do with the class. This is between you and me, Horikita,” I told her.

“I see,” she replied. “This does have something to do with me, then, right? Well, out with it.”

“I’ll pass.”

“If you won’t say it now, I absolutely won’t listen to it anywhere else.”

Horikita’s determination was steely. Maybe she thought total transparency would improve her relationship with Kushida. Kushida, for her part, smiled as sweetly as ever. Her smile always made you want to believe her kindness was genuine, no matter what unease you felt.

I might’ve been able to come up with a convincing lie, but I doubted that Horikita would be receptive to my real proposal once she found out. “In that case, I’ll come right out and say it.”

“Good.”

No use beating around the bush. “Do you want to join the student council?”

“I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’m not following you.” Horikita tilted her head. “Why do you ask?”

“I have my reasons.”

“Then continue.”

“Um, is this okay, Horikita-san?” asked Kushida.

“Is what okay?”

“Is it okay if I overhear this? If this is about the student council, it might involve your brother.”

“You’ve known about my brother since junior high. It’s a little late to worry.”

I steeled myself and sat at the table. “A certain person has a burning desire to see you on the student council.”

“A certain person?”

“Your brother.”

Strictly speaking, Horikita’s brother had said nothing of the sort. Rather, he’d said I was free to decide whether to use Horikita. To get her to act, however, I had to dangle her brother like a carrot.

“Why would my brother say that he wants me to join the student council? That’s unbelievable.” Horikita looked discouraged.

“It’s true.”

“If it were really true, my brother should’ve told me. Why did he go through you?”

“Is he the type to tell you things directly?”

“No. But he’s also not the sort to ask me to join the student council in the first place.” She just wouldn’t believe me. Was their relationship really that poor? “I have no intention of listening to your lies.”

“If you think that I’m lying, why don’t you confirm it yourself?” I asked.

“You’re being really stubborn.”

“Stubborn or not, just contact him.”

“Um…do you know his phone number?”

“No. Don’t you know it? As his sister?”

“I don’t know it.”

“Well, how about we try contacting Tachibana-senpai?” asked Kushida.

“Tachibana? My brother’s secretary?”

“Yeah. I’ve talked to Tachibana-senpai a lot. I know her contact information.” Just as I’d figured, Kushida was making friends in the most unexpected places.

“Are you really okay with me calling him, Ayanokouji-kun? If it turns out you’re lying, the consequences will be severe.”

“Do as you wish.” Horikita’s brother would recognize this as part of my strategy and cover for me; he’d say I was telling the truth.

“Thank you, senpai. Yes, I understand. Goodbye,” said Kushida, who’d just called Tachibana. She hung up and fiddled with her phone.

Horikita’s phone buzzed. Kushida had forwarded the contact information. “Thank you, Kushida-san.”

“Oh, you’re welcome.” Putting on a friendly face with Horikita had to be quite the struggle for Kushida.

Horikita stared at her phone’s screen. You might’ve thought that she’d call immediately, but her fingers didn’t move. She clutched the phone with both hands.

“Whew.” Horikita let out a deep breath. Being this nervous about calling a family member definitely wasn’t normal. “If this all turns out to be a lie, prepare yourself.”

“You don’t need to remind me,” I said.

My clear confidence unsettled her. I could tell she suspected I might be telling the truth. Horikita mustered all her courage and pressed the call button. She held the phone to her ear. The person on the other end of the line must’ve picked up, because her face grew even more nervous.

“Excuse me. I-It’s Horikita Suzune.” Horikita spoke formally, as if talking with a stranger. “I asked Tachibana-senpai for your contact information… Um, well, so I could call you, oniisan.”

Wearing a confused, flustered look that seemed out of place on her face, Horikita asked her brother the all-important question about the student council. Though I couldn’t hear, he seemed to confirm my version of events.

“Yes. Th-thank you very much. Goodbye.” Horikita ended the call and gave me an intense glare.

“I told you the truth, right? Why the angry face?” I asked.

“Why’re you the intermediary? That’s what baffles me.” Gosh, she was paranoid.

“Are you joining the student council, Horikita-san?” asked Kushida.

“No, I’m not.”

“Wait a minute. Your brother just told you to join, didn’t he?” I asked.

“He told me that joining would be good for me…but I can’t imagine that’s true.”

Even if I pushed Horikita, no good would come of it. At this point, I just wanted to stop giving Kushida information. “I understand. Well, I hope to talk to you later.”

“Wouldn’t further conversation be a waste of time?”

“Probably.” I stood.

“See you later, Ayanokouji-kun.” When Kushida spoke so gently to me, I sensed that something was amiss.

4.3

 

IT WAS NOW TEN O’CLOCK at night. Christmas Eve slipped away with every tick of the clock. Rather than go out and party with my guy friends, I stayed in and watched TV alone. A live broadcast showed people in Tokyo celebrating, all chock-full of Christmas spirit. I flipped through the channels, but every single program was Christmas-related. I did find a show ranking presents to give girls—though Christmas Eve was a little late to think about such things—and also a ranking of presents for children, but none of it looked particularly interesting.

I shut off the TV and turned on my computer, craving something non-Christmas-related. I scrolled through the news at random, noting accidents and incidents, articles on foreign athletes, and other miscellaneous stuff. Apart from it being almost Christmas, it was a day like any other day. Nothing ever really changed.

My doorbell rang. Not the lobby intercom—my actual doorbell.

“Coming.” I made my way to the entrance.

“G-g-good evening, K-Kiyotaka-kun!” stammered a familiar voice as I unlocked the door.

“What’s up, Airi? It’s pretty late.” It was already past ten, yet judging from her appearance, she’d just gotten back to the dorm. “Were you out? I thought the gathering wasn’t until tomorrow.”

“Yes, that’s right. I was doing something different. I’ve been hanging out with Haruka-chan since two in the afternoon.”

“I see.” That was a long time to hang out. “Did you have fun?”

“I’m a little tired, but yes.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” I probably didn’t need to worry about Airi. At the very least, she’d be safe with a member of our group.

“I heard from Haruka-chan that you have something going on tomorrow, Kiyotaka-kun. That means you won’t be able to come with us.”

Ah, right. I had indeed talked to Haruka about that. Hanging out with Airi was probably her way of “handling” things.

“Yeah, I do have plans. Sorry I can’t join you,” I told Airi.

“No, that’s perfectly okay. To tell you the truth, I planned to give you something tomorrow, but…” Airi handed me a package tied in a cute red ribbon. “Um, well…I hope…that’ll you like it.”

A Christmas gift.

“For me?” I asked.

“Yeah! I-I, um, got a gift for everyone else too.”

In that case, it was easy to accept. I took the present, wondering what was usually done in these situations. Should I open it now, or after Airi left?

As I agonized, Airi spoke. “I-I don’t mind if you open it now.” Well, that answered that question.

Inside the package, I found warm-looking gloves. “I’ve thought for a little while that you could use gloves, Kiyotaka-kun. You don’t have a pair, do you?” she asked.

“I was thinking of buying some. Thank you, Airi.”

“Hee hee hee! You’re welcome,” she answered.

The plain-blue gloves were simple in design, much more to my taste than the patterned ones I saw other students wear. I put them on right away—the first time I’d ever worn gloves, though I didn’t say that, of course. After putting on the left glove, then the right, I flexed my hands over and over to get used to them.

Airi happily watched me. “H-how do they feel?” she asked.

“They’re the perfect size, and warm.” If I’d bought gloves for myself, I would’ve picked these.

“I’m glad,” said Airi. “Well, uh, sorry for dropping by so late. Good night, Kiyotaka-kun.”

Airi turned to leave. I wouldn’t have minded getting her a cup of tea or something, but it was pretty late. On top of that, having a girl in my room on Christmas Eve might’ve gotten me in trouble.

As Airi headed for the elevator, she glanced back once, perhaps because she felt me looking at her. She gave a tiny wave, then hopped on the elevator.

After seeing her off, I went back inside. “When would be a good time to show my gratitude?” I muttered.

If you received a present on Valentine’s Day, you gave one back on White Day. I knew that much. What about Christmas gifts, though? I’d have to look that up later.