Chapter 5: From Older Brother to Younger Sister

Chapter 5: From Older Brother to Younger Sister

Chapter 5:

From Older Brother to Younger Sister

T HE NEXT DAY , March 31, was quite a special day for me as well. Yes—it was the day Horikita Manabu left. Our agreed meeting time was exactly noon. As usual, I did things early and arrived at the front gate. He must not have told his other kouhai about him leaving today, because there wasn’t no else around except for me.

From time to time, while I waited for the others to arrive, I looked at the students headed toward Keyaki Mall in the distance. Come to think of it, I had come to this school through this very gate a year ago, hadn’t I? The location was one I often came close to, but never really walked right up to. There were times when we might head through the gate on a bus for things like special activities and exams, but other than that, the only way you’d walk through this gate would be if you graduated or got expelled. And since there was no system in place for students to repeat a year, we would inevitably see those things happen within our three years here.

“I feel like I’ve been thinking about that all the time lately,” I muttered to myself.

Now that we were about to enter our second year, I’d been reflecting back on my current state of mind more and more.

Just then, close to twenty minutes before we were scheduled to meet, Horikita Manabu arrived. After confirming that it was me, he briefly glanced around at his surroundings. I didn’t even need to bother asking what he was looking for.

“Unfortunately, your sister still isn’t here yet,” I told him.

“Looks that way,” he replied.

Right now, it was around 11:40 a.m. She certainly wasn’t too late, not by any stretch. However, considering how little time there was left, it would have been better if she had arrived earlier. I thought back to when Horikita and I met with Ichinose the other day. The fact that she had gotten to the meeting place then with plenty of time to spare was still fresh in my mind. Was it possible that she had gotten into some kind of accident?

“I think I should try giving her a quick call,” I suggested.

I figured that if I were to make the call, then Horikita’s brother would agree to the proposal quite easily. That’s what I had thought, anyway, but…

“No, there’s no need.”

He refused my offer, gently stopping me with his hand.

“If she fell or something, she would’ve let us know ahead of time,” he reasoned.

“It’s possible she might just be sleeping in.” It was highly unlikely, but I thought I’d mention the possibility.

“If that is the case, then there’s no need to wake her up,” he answered.

He was saying that if she were to oversleep on such an important day, that meant she wasn’t worth his time anymore, huh? Even though this was the last chance they had to meet, his attitude was the same as ever.

“Well, there’s nothing to worry about. There’s still plenty of time until we’re supposed to meet.”

I could also imagine pretty easily that she was sitting around nervously in her room until the last possible minute, since she was meeting with her older brother.

“Suzune aside, though, I didn’t expect you to have gotten here so soon,” said Manabu.

“Somehow, I had a feeling that you’d be getting here early, too,” I replied.

We had agreed to meet at noon. Of course, we still had plenty of time until the bus departed. But this would be a final goodbye. I’m sure that both Horikita siblings must have anticipated that there would be a lot to talk about. And sure enough, Manabu had arrived twenty minutes early. The only thing that both Manabu and I didn’t expect was Horikita’s absence, as she was supposed to be the central person in this gathering.

Anyway, since she wasn’t here, that meant that we could only talk about things with just the two of us. It would be a complete waste to just spend our time in silence. After thinking for a little while, I opened my mouth to speak, telling him about something that had been on my mind lately.

“I’m sorry. I probably should have done a little more for you regarding the student council stuff,” I told him.

Horikita had come to me to talk, in order to find a way to stop Nagumo Miyabi from running amok. However, at the time, I couldn’t eagerly accept his request, because at the time, I had been wishing for a more peaceful life, much more strongly than I do now. So, in order to establish a connection, he had gotten me acquainted with Vice President Kiriyama, but that’s about as far as things got. In the end, I had gotten all the way here, to today, without enacting plans involving Kiriyama.

“Everything has been my responsibility. It was wrong for me to try to impose that on you. Don’t worry about it,” said Manabu.

For him, this school was a thing of the past. He was in a good position now, where he didn’t even need to worry about what was going to happen here in the future.

“But even so, let me just give you one final warning. I basically see the policies of this school as fundamentally positive and lean toward agreeing with them. Even though the school is fundamentally based on the idea of a meritocracy, it leaves enough room for the lower-ranked classes to be able to win. Though it’s by no means an easy battle,” said Horikita.

“I can’t think that argument is all that convincing, considering you were in Class A for three years running,” I replied.

“But you could say that’s also because a lot of people haven’t realized the true nature of things. It is certainly true that there are many areas in which the school can improve. However, in retrospect, you should be able to understand something. Whether it’s the uninhabited island exam or the year-end final exam, there are always chances provided to the lower-ranked classes to beat the upper-ranked classes,” said Horikita.

It wasn’t just with written exams. Other factors needed to be taken into consideration quite strongly for the special exams. For example, on the uninhabited island exam, it wouldn’t be that difficult to beat Class A or Class B by simply coming together and showing solidarity. It was the same kind of thing for the year-exams, too. Although it was an exam where luck certainly played a huge role, it was also proof that there was the possibility for the lower-ranked classes to win.

“Luck plays a big role in determining victory or defeat. It’s a necessary consideration, so that the still inexperienced, immature first-year students can have a chance at winning against the higher-level classes. However… that is also something that is difficult for the upper-level classes to accept. It’s an element that they’d probably revile,” said Horikita.

The school’s considerations for the students at the bottom would certainly draw complaints from students at the top. Putting aside the ability for students to move between classes by accumulating twenty million private points as a special case, the system this school operated in such a way by treating each class as a fundamental unit, and also, the system would not abandon those students who were less capable. In every class, there are superior students who excel, and there are those who struggle even at the lower levels.

I’m guessing that Nagumo had experienced a year going through examinations just like we did, and then had come up with an idea. He wanted to create a system that was even more meritocratic, which allowed individuals to rise up and win on their own power. A system where the people at the top would keep rising and the people at the bottom would keep falling.

“What Nagumo’s trying to do might not necessarily be wrong, though,” I replied.

While I’m sure some students in our grade level could be dissatisfied with what he was doing, at the same time, there were many students who agreed with it. And in the case of the second-year students, you could say that the majority of those students would agree with Nagumo. Of course, that probably wasn’t simply because they just happened to be agreeable people.

I’m sure that more than a few students had no choice to agree to it, after being swept up by the state of things around them. If everyone was to excel, then every class would have to be fiercely competitive.

“Is there a pretty significant gap between second-year classes? In terms of their Class Points, I mean,” I asked.

“Yeah. Class A, which Nagumo is in, has one thousand four hundred and ninety-one points as of March. Class B has eight hundred and eighty-nine points. Class C has two hundred and eighty points. And Class D has seventy-six points,” said Horikita.

Considering the fact that they only had one year left, that meant that Class A was already in position to win. Despite that, though, Nagumo dared to propose something that could save the lower-level classes. It was certainly true that with only seventy-six points, it was nearly impossible for Class D to turn things around.

“There are a lot of people who agree with him. If they have no way to win as Class A, then their only way to get to Class A is to cling to a system where individuals can rise to the top,” I reasoned.

“You might be right. But Nagumo’s ways of doing things would make a great number of people unhappy,” said Horikita.

If the system becomes too meritocratic and individualistic, then suspicion and distrust would grow, even among classmates. It was possible that everyone around you could become your enemy. Horikita’s brother, no, Horikita Manabu still insistently believes that the cooperation of the group, of the classes, is absolute. Not only that, but also, that it was an organization designed with the future in mind.

“Won’t it be the same with how the system works now, though? All three classes except for Class A will be unhappy,” I replied.

I could only imagine just what Nagumo’s ideal system would look like, but if a system that allowed individuals to rise up were to be established, it might add a little something extra, some added relief, for classes that had forty students or fewer.

“Yeah, for example—”

Just as I was about to say anything more though, Horikita cut me off.

“Consolidate the Private Points of all the students in Class B and below all together and use them to compete in a bid to see who gets to move up to Class A. Or something like that.”

He thought of the exact same thing that I did. I nodded in response. Not taking expelled students into account, the total number of students between Class B through Class D was one hundred and twenty people. If you put together all of their Private Points, that would most likely exceed twenty million by quite a bit. It was possible that you might even get forty or sixty million.

Of course, not everyone would likely take part in that gamble. Although I don’t know how the system might have changed, not too long ago, there was a system in place where students could convert their Private Points into cash upon graduation. I’m sure there were some students who probably wouldn’t mind graduating from Class D as long as they were able to get that cash.

However, students who could meet the conditions to participate and secure the number of Private Points needed really ought to take that gamble. Even if they can’t win with the rest of the class anyway, it’s not a bad idea to try to make one last gamble. Besides, that way, there should be a few more students who can get up to Class A. The larger the gap between Class A and the lower levels in terms of Class Points in your grade level, the easier it would be for this last chance to become a reality.

“Have students not talked about that in your grade level?” I asked.

“I’d be lying if I said that people haven’t talked about it. But no one actually did it. Because Class A and Class B were in such close competition, Class C and Class D didn’t have enough points to be able to make it happen,” replied Horikita.

I recalled a student from third-year Class D that I had gotten in contact with almost a year ago now, who seemed to be in desperate need of points. If you keep losing, it would become more difficult to get Class points. If you find yourself falling into a situation where you have to keep spending month after month with only zero points, you’ll be trapped in a downward spiral.

“If that’s all there is to it, then there won’t be any effect yet. However, Nagumo is planning on stirring things up into a frenzy, one which will drag even his own class into it, Class A. In other words, he’s going to put even his own allies at risk as well.”

That meant that the students in Class A whose abilities were meager faced the possibility of falling by the wayside. That was probably likely. If only Nagumo’s own class, Class A, was safely in the clear, then there was no way that everyone else would approve his appeal to create a meritocracy. Every class, whether it was A or D, would be placed on a level playing field.

“I don’t know how far he’s planning on taking things, but even still, it’s a decision that you need courage to make,” I reasoned.

“He just feels bored, he’s bored with his current situation, that his victory is already assured. That’s probably the reason for all of this. The reason why he originally joined the student council in the first place was largely just because he wanted to kill some time,” said Horikita.

If he had the ability and also, the endorsement of others, then no one really had the right to complain, though.

“The class is a whole, where everyone is in the same boat together. Everyone has a shared destiny. I don’t think we should move past that framework,” said Horikita.

“Which is why you can’t agree with Nagumo’s way of doing things,” I replied.

Although he didn’t nod in response to what I said, Horikita’s brother seemed to accept what I said. I understood what he was trying to say, but you couldn’t say for sure which one of them was right. And besides…

“I’m planning on seeing what Nagumo is trying to do, for the time being. If he’s going to change our grade level, no, rather, our entire school into a more meritocratic environment, then I can’t deny him without experiencing that environment,” I told him.

I decided that I would simply state what I was going to do, with no lies.

“I see. You’re going to soar to even greater heights than I did,” said Horikita.

“You think way too highly of me,” I told him.

Furthermore, I just didn’t have the inclination nor the means to stop Nagumo right now. In that case, it wasn’t a bad idea for me to take a look at the world that Nagumo was trying to create. I was able to firmly etch this past year into my mind, this year that Horikita’s brother had been protecting.

“I’m really not as great a person as you think I am,” I added.

“Well, sorry to say, but I don’t think that’s true,” he replied.

Horikita firmly rejected my modesty.

“In any case, it seems like your assessment of me in your mind isn’t getting any worse,” I said.

“If there was anything that would cause it to get worse, it would have,” he replied.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t really changed his opinion of me at all for almost a year now. No matter what he knows or doesn’t know, that standard didn’t change.

“I just can’t wrap my head around it, though. What exactly is it about me that you find so praiseworthy?” I asked.

The only bit of information that he had about me, information that was different from what other students had about me, came from that little fight we had, when I was trying to stop him from going too far and hurting his sister. In addition to that, he had knowledge of my test scores from when I had enrolled here. Test scores that frankly were a ridiculous joke. Other than that, what else he knew was general information: he knew that I was a fast runner, as evidenced when I ran against him in that relay. He didn’t actually know how capable I was in academics or in sports.

“I can sense someone’s talents through my own senses and intuition, to a certain extent,” said Horikita.

So, rather than anything concrete, it was an abstract idea, huh. For him to be able to evaluate me so thoroughly with that kind of method was impressive.

“So, what do I look like to you, exactly, with your senses or whatever you call it? I’d like to know, as a parting gift,” I asked.

I was curious, so I thought I’d try asking him. In fact, I was thinking I’d compare his evaluation of me and see if it was the same as the one I had made of myself, in my own mind. I’m sure that Horikita’s brother would be able to give me an answer, without any kind of unnecessary filter.

“All right. From what I see, you’re…”

Horikita Manabu paused for a moment after saying that, thinking back on the past year that he had spent watching me.

“Based on everything I’ve experienced in my life thus far, you seem to be someone who deviates greatly from what I can predict. No matter what angle I try to come at you from, I can’t find any flaws with you. I don’t think anything would work on you. I don’t think I’d be able to deal with you in terms of brute force, such as in physical strength. Not to mention strategy and resourcefulness, either. Out of everyone I’ve ever met, you are the last person I’d ever want to fight,” said Horikita.

That’s an extremely generous assessment. Especially considering that he’s saying all that simply by what he can sense.

“So, does that mean you’re raising the white flag? You’ve completely surrendered to me?” I asked.

“That’s a different matter. Even against a completely perfect opinion, there’s always a chance to win,” said Horikita.

I felt slightly relieved after hearing his response to my question.

“At this school, it’s especially true that everyone competes as Class A, as a unit. No matter how outstanding the individual, there is a limit,” he added.

“That’s true. That’s exactly why I think it’s interesting,” I replied.

“Ayanokouji. What kind of environment were you raised in? I’m certain that it’s not like all of your abilities happened to be instilled in you by accident, naturally. And they’re not the kind of abilities you could easily pick up because your family found you a thorough tutor,” said Horikita.

“You didn’t grow up in a normal family either, did you?” I asked in return.

If you were an elite student who even as student council president, you probably knew how to rise to the top.

“It’s not as though I’ve stood at the top of everything since the beginning or anything. There were times when I struggled, when I only made little progress. But I have worked tirelessly in light of that fact. From early childhood and even to now, and beyond,” said Horikita.

Horikita’s brother was saying that he had gotten to where he was thanks to the accumulation of all the effort he’s made.

“I suppose if I were to put my answer into that sort of logical pattern, then maybe I’ve put in even more effort than you have,” I replied.

“…I suppose so,” said Horikita.

To beat those who put in effort, you put in even more effort. That wasn’t the answer to everyone, but it was certainly one answer. Horikita Manabu then took out his phone. He showed me the screen, which displayed a phone number on it. Then, he changed what was displayed on the screen and showed me a different number.

“Remember these two sets of phone numbers. The first is mine. The other is Tachibana’s. If you have any trouble after graduation, feel free to contact us, any time. If you can’t memorize the numbers right now, you can jot them down in your notes. But make sure you delete those notes later,” he told me.

Contact with people outside of the school was forbidden, even by phone or other means. If I carelessly jotted down the numbers and made a record, that would only be a disadvantage for me. I nodded in response, signaling to him that it was no problem, and memorized the two sets of eleven-digit numbers, committing both phone numbers to memory. Personally, I couldn’t imagine a day would come when I would actually call either of those numbers, but I supposed there wasn’t any harm in keeping them in mind.

“Oh, that reminds me. I still haven’t heard yet. Where are you going now, after you’ve graduated?” I asked.

Considering the fact that he also gave me Tachibana’s phone number, I figured that they would continue to have a relationship after graduation.

“About that—”

Just as Horikita was about to tell me, he stopped speaking, and checked the time on his phone.

“Let’s continue that conversation after you graduate. It’s almost time for our scheduled appointment,” said Horikita.

It was almost noon. The time when we would be meeting with his younger sister. However, she was nowhere to be seen. Even though Horikita’s brother looked the same as he ever did, his expression unchanging, there was something about this that made me feel a little sad.

“Maybe it’d be a good idea for me to give her a quick call,” I suggested.

I couldn’t imagine something like she wasn’t showing up because she didn’t keep her promises. Even if she didn’t oversleep, it was realistic to think that she might have had some kind of accident.

“No… Better not,” he replied.

Even if she did have some kind of accident, it seemed like her brother’s stance was to not call her anyway. Though, considering their past, I understood quite well that it wasn’t like he disliked his sister or anything.

“You don’t have to be so stubborn. It wouldn’t be a bad thing if you reached out to her yourself from time to time, y’know,” I told him.

“I would be afraid that me temporarily showing such emotions might stunt my sister’s growth. If my sister was late simply because of some kind of accident, then that’s fine. However, if she has decided that not meeting with me will help her grow, then me reaching out to her would merely be a hindrance to her,” said Horikita.

“She’d grow without seeing you? Do you really think she’d arrive at such an idea?” I asked.

“That is for Suzune to decide.”

Though he didn’t come right out and say it directly, he was basically suggesting that this wasn’t something for an outsider to have any say in.

“I can’t see you ever indulging her like this, though.”

“I’ve just determined what kinds of situations I can indulge her in is all,” said Horikita.

So, he was thinking that this was exactly the time to indulge her then, I supposed. It was now a minute past noon. I thought that he’d immediately start walking through the main gate, but he hadn’t started walking yet. Although it didn’t look like he was indulging her, I supposed you could see this situation as him doing just that, albeit only a little bit.

“There’s also something that I wanted to confirm with you, as well. I want you to give me an answer about something. Considering it a parting gift for me, for graduating,” said Horikita, directing his gaze at me as he spoke.

In light of the consideration that he was showing to his sister here at the very end, I decided I’d act in kind, and nodded.

“If it’s something I can answer, sure,” I replied.

Horikita would probably start walking through the main gate once this conversation was over.

“Why do you spend your days hiding your talents?” he asked.

It wasn’t like I didn’t expect that kind of question, but he asked me fairly straight out.

“It’s simply because I don’t like standing out, I guess,” I answered.

“That’s something you plan to stick to, even if it means hiding who you truly are?” he asked.

“I can’t say for sure, really. I’ve never thought that much about it,” I replied.

When I came to this school, I just wanted to lead the life of a normal student. However, when he posed that question to me like that, I did have some doubts.

“I decided that I wanted to spend my days living like a normal, ordinary student. The kind of student you’d see anywhere else. Though there have been many twists and turns along the way so far, and there have been times where I’ve had to take action, I suppose,” I added.

“Are you planning to continue on as you have been, in the future?” he asked.

“No clue. I have been getting more and more attention lately. Maybe I’ll start taking things a little more seriously,” I replied.

To be perfectly honest, there were lots of things I didn’t understand, but I told him how I honestly felt right now. Upon hearing my answer, I wondered how Horikita would respond.

“What did I accomplish at this school? What was I capable of accomplishing? That’s all that I’ve been thinking about lately,” he replied, briefly glancing toward the school building in the distance.

“Did I give it my all? Was there any more room for growth? Those kinds of questions.”

Meaning, he spent his life in a way close to the exact opposite of mine. That was exactly why he rose to become even student council president.

“Is it really meaningful, spending your life here at this school while keeping your head down?” he asked.

“Well, if you consider what’s meaningful to me, wanting to take it easy, then I don’t think it’s wrong for me to do so.”

“You might be right, I suppose. But didn’t you come to this school so that you could leave something behind, to mark your mark, too? If that’s the case, then I think that you should make every effort, to have the most impact,” he replied.

“Leave something behind… That’s something that can only be done by people as radiant as you, though.”

I denied the suggestion of making my mark, but Horikita didn’t seem to be convinced.

“If you can’t make some kind of mark on the school, then make your mark on the students. The students probably wouldn’t ever forget it—their memories of the person named Ayanokouji Kiyotaka, which have been inscribed in their mind.”

Inscribing my existence into someone else’s mind. I had never thought of something like that before.

“I appreciate that you’ve been helping my sister mature. But throughout this past year, I’ve come to understand well enough that you aren’t the kind of man to stop there, with only accomplishing that. You are hiding the strength of a giant. Which is why…I ask you to not disappoint me.”

He was giving me a stern, strongly worded pep talk, both as the former student council president and as my senpai here at the Advanced Nurturing High School.

“If you’re going to pursue finding yourself while you’re keeping yourself in bondage, then become someone who will remain in the memories of those around you in the three years you have here,” he added.

“Someone who will remain in the movies of those around me, huh? I might get expelled along the way though, in my second or third year.”

“Even if by some accident you are fated to be expelled from school before the end of your third year here, you can still remain in people’s memories. If you can make even one student glad that Ayanokouji Kiyotaka was there when they look back on the three years they spent at this school, then I would consider that to be an accomplishment,” said Horikita.

When he told me that, reinforcing his point, I felt his words slowly but surely burrow their way into my heart.

“I see…huh. I’ll think it over,” I replied.

That was the best answer that I could have given at the present moment.

“Then, good. The answer won’t come from me. It will come from you, Ayanokouji.”

The student council, led by Nagumo. Horikita’s little sister. The school. I’m the one who will make a decision about those things in the end. The world is full of things that can help you grow. No matter where you look, there are hints you can find all over, which will help you improve yourself.

I supposed that’s just what I was doing by engaging with Horikita’s brother right now, like this. By leading a quiet life here at this school, while keeping my head down, I supposed I certainly would still leave something behind. My memory. Just a random memory that I could think of as fun. At first, I was satisfied with that.

That’s exactly why I had been living my life here as quietly as possible for the past year. But maybe that wasn’t the answer. Coming to this school itself also has meaning. That’s right.

“Sorry, I got strangely preachy there at the very end. Apologies,” said Horikita.

“Not at all. Actually, as your kouhai, I think those might have been the best words I could’ve heard from my senpai,” I replied.

I’m going to feel kind of lonely, once you leave. I thought about saying that, but stopped myself.

“Hm… It seems like we’ve each shown each other a side of ourselves that is rather unlike us,” he mused.

There were things we could discuss with one another precisely because we knew the distance between us. And also, there were some things we could understand precisely because we didn’t put them into words.

“Well, I suppose I’d better be going now,” said Horikita, as if he had sensed that his little sister wasn’t going to show up, now that it was after 12:10 in the afternoon.

Then, somewhat regretfully, he looked over in the direction of the first-year dormitories. The absence of his little sister, who was supposed to have come. No one could have predicted this turn of events. Was this your answer then, Horikita? I couldn’t help but wonder. I certainly had to admit that the relationship that these siblings had built was somewhat complicated.

However, I’m sure that they continued to suffer for years, in order to break that relationship. And finally, it was the very moment when we would arrive at the correct answer. I took hold of my phone inside my pocket. Should I forcefully bring her here to be together with her brother? Even if it’s just for a moment, even if it’s just for a short glance, if it’s something that will nurture Horikita, then even somewhat forceful measures will…

No… Even if I did that, it would probably have the opposite effect. That would likely cause a rift to open up in their relationship, when these two siblings had only just started warming up to each other. In the end, whether they met or not, whether they wanted to meet or not, everything would happen based on how both of them felt, together. This wasn’t something that a third party should intervene in.

“I’m sorry. My sister’s been causing you trouble all the way until the very end.”

Horikita quietly apologized to me, as if he could see what I was feeling.

“It’s not like I’ve suffered in any way, though,” I replied.

Turning his back to me, the man who had continued to stand at the forefront of this school for three years, started to leave.

“I’m quite proud of the fact that over these past three years, I haven’t stopped, and I’ve continued to lead the way here,” said Horikita.

That’s how he had summed up his time here. Last words from Horikita’s brother, as he looked back on the three years he had spent here.

“I had lost a great number of classmates along the way. And students from other classes, too,” he added.

I didn’t feel the slightest hint of joy over graduating from Class A from him. But still, having said that, it wasn’t like he looked disappointed, either. He was solemnly reflecting on what happened.

“In the end, a total of twenty-four students had been expelled by the time I reached graduation. Thirteen of those just in my third year here alone,” said Horikita.

Whether that was more or less compared to previous years, I had no idea. In Nagumo’s grade level, the second-year class, there had been seventeen withdrawals as of winter, if I recall.

“You first-years, you’ve still only had three students drop out,” he observed.

It wasn’t difficult to imagine that things would get tougher and tougher as we moved up through each grade level.

“I mean, it’s inevitable that the students who don’t get through the assignments will fail, right?” I asked.

“Yes, that’s certainly true. The students who get left behind are generally those who fail to meet the requisite standard. However, sometimes, you lose exceptional students, too.”

Maybe it was because that student was protecting someone else, or they ended up getting caught in a trap by more a powerful opponent. The disappearance of students you didn’t expect wasn’t necessarily a mystery.

“There are some who question the school’s methods. However, I am very grateful to this school,” said Horikita.

Horikita didn’t reject the school’s way of doing things, which at times could lead to people losing friends in quite an unreasonable fashion.

“At this school, students are being educated in order to carry the future of Japan. It’s obvious that out of a hundred people, not all one hundred of them will be able to adapt. The same is true for people at a university or people who get a job at a company,” said Horikita.

It wasn’t just whether you were suited for it or not. A pass or fail decision was made after consideration of a variety of factors.

“I was able to learn this foundational principle. My experiences have taught me that once I leave here, I won’t be easily screened out for a superficial reason.”

I guess that’s how much he had grown here then, huh. I wondered how many students in his same grade were able to reach the same heights that he had gotten to.

“Well, I suppose this is it.”

The front gate. Horikita looked at the gate a few meters in front of him. Then…he looked back at me one last time.

“This is a very one-sided request for me to make, but take care of Suzune,” said Horikita, offering his right hand to me.

“Can I shake your hand?” he asked.

“Of course.”

I took his hand and shook it. A handshake was the act of joining your hand with someone else’s. Horikita’s brother’s hand, which I was grasping with my own, had a curious power behind it. Then, we both released each other’s hands.

“Let’s meet again, Ayanokouji.”

After giving me that parting message, he started to walk toward the front gate. If he were to go through that gate right now, there’s nothing anyone could do about it. Two years at minimum. Or getting expelled from school. Those were the only options that Horikita Suzune had for reuniting with her brother. And I would never see the man again myself.

“ Oniisaaaan !”

A shout rang out from behind me. Considering the situation, there was no doubt in my mind whose voice it was. After hearing the voice, Horikita Manabu stopped in his tracks. It seemed that she had arrived just in the nick of time, at the last possible second, apparently. It was past noon, and Horikita Manabu was only a few short meters away from leaving. If she had arrived just one minute later, she probably wouldn’t have been able to see his face.

When Horikita’s brother turned around, I saw that in his eyes, there was a strong feeling of surprise. Something I hadn’t ever seen before. Was his little sister’s arrival really that unexpected? Well, I supposed there was that, of course. That’s what I had thought, but it wasn’t yet. Well, I suppose I should say that it wasn’t all there was to it.

The answer, the real reason for his surprise, would soon become clear to me.

“You…”

It was past the time we had been scheduled to meet. Horikita, who must have been running here in a hurry, was completely out of breath. She lined up next to me. But I supposed that right now, in this moment, I was basically just part of the scenery to Horikita. I wasn’t even in her field of vision. Then, while she caught her breath, she took a step closer to her brother.

“I’m so sorry I’m late…!”

She bowed deeply, apologizing. But why was she late? Normally, I would have probably asked her that question.

“Well—”

But this time, there wasn’t any need for her to answer why. Because you could tell the reason why with just a glance.

Was I confused? No. Just surprised. Because there was such a big difference between the Horikita of yesterday and the Horikita of today.

So, that was it, huh? The reason why Horikita’s brother had been able to tell right away that his little sister hadn’t grown at all when she started school here.

It looked like Horikita’s brother was at a loss for words right now, seeing her. The same went for me. This was their final day, a day to say farewell. And it was clear that Horikita had come here, fully prepared to be late, but coming anyway. There was no way a brother could scold a sister like that.

“Seems like you’ve changed,” said her brother softly, sounding somewhat relieved that his sister had appeared.

“I’ve…changed?” she repeated.

“No… Allow me to correct myself. You’ve returned to your old self, Suzune.”

This wasn’t a new beginning. She had returned to her original starting point.

“A year… No, many years have passed,” said Suzune.

As she continued to catch her breath, Horikita slowly started to respond to her brother.

“I don’t know why I couldn’t go back to being my old self much, much, earlier… I can’t begin to tell you how much I’ve deeply regretted it,” she added.

Taking a step forward, Horikita closed the distance between herself and her brother.

“What are you thinking about right now?” he asked.

“I wonder… To be honest, I’d be lying if I said that there weren’t still things that I was confused about,” said Horikita.

She struggled to get out what she wanted to say, sounding flustered. Horikita’s brother just watched her with calm, gentle eyes, waiting for the words to come.

“But there’s just one thing that I can say, quite clearly. I…have been chasing your shadow for a long, long time. But I’m not that person anymore,” she added.

Horikita Suzune, who thought only of her brother and lived only for his sake. She studied hard and did well in sports, all to gain the approval of her brother.

“Then, let me ask you something. Now that you’ve decided to stop following me, what are you going to do?” asked her brother.

Horikita took a deep breath and then started to speak once more. “I’ve had enough of chasing after other people. I’ve learned my lesson. I’m going to look for my own path.”

She was finally beginning to shed her doubts and indecision. She had only just begun to see what was happening around her. Even so, she couldn’t stop moving.

“And…”

Walking on your own path. It sounded easy, but was actually extremely difficult. Just being able to show her brother that was the best farewell gift she could have given him.

“I’m hoping that I can continue walking forward on my own, for the sake of my classmates,” she added.

Becoming an example, a mentor to others. That was an important aspect of being a leader.

“And in order to find my own path, I’m going to keep learning together with my friends at this school,” said Horikita.

When I met Horikita a year ago, I didn’t think that would have grown this much. A somewhat arrogant honors student, who excelled above other people. A neighbor who simply sat close to me. I had this image in my head of her as someone who, for better or worse, was all about personal ability.

“I see. Finally, you…really seem to have gone back to being your old self. The version of you that I kept tucked back in the corners of my memories.”

Unlike me, Horikita Manabu might have been able to really see it. He knew about and believed in his sister’s potential more than anyone else.

He placed the luggage that he had been holding down by his feet, and then drew in close to his sister. With just a few steps, the emotional distance that had existed between them would be no more. The two of them were now close enough that they could reach out to one another.

“Do you know the main reason I coldly pushed you away?” he asked.

“…No,” she replied.

Most likely, Horikita didn’t quite understand how her brother felt. She had only just been released from the spell of her past that had kept her bound. It was like forcibly wrenching open a locked treasure chest, unintentionally. Which means that she hadn’t found the key, her answer. Why did Horikita’s brother come to reject his sister? How did he come to shun her so harshly?

“It’s because you’re very precious to me,” said Horikita.

“Wha—?!”

And now, Horikita had received one final gift from her brother, in the form of him telling her what that key was.

“And I sensed incredible talent in you when you were very small. Even though you were inexperienced, I could see a brilliance in you, like an unpolished gemstone. I was hoping that in time, you would be refined and polished, that you would acquire abilities that surpassed me.”

Her brother took one last step, closing in even closer. He was now so close that he would be able to touch her if he just raised his arm a little.

“But you were held prisoner by some illusion of me. You decided that you were inferior to me, and you gave up on trying to surpass me, deciding that it was impossible. You chose to throw away your own potential to grow. You simply chose to chase after me, making following me your last stop. I just couldn’t possibly tolerate such a thing,” said Horikita Manabu.

Chasing after her brother’s shadow and wanting to stand beside him certainly wasn’t a bad thing. You could say that it’s an admirable goal, of sorts. However, if you were to put it another way, that meant she’d be reaching her goal when she stood next to her brother. That’s precisely what he meant when he said last stop. There was a conflict between the little sister, who wanted to chase after her brother and have him as her final destination, and the older brother, who wanted his sister to surpass him and go beyond. I’m sure that created a significant estrangement between the two siblings.

“Be strong for others. And be kind.”

The older brother gently embraced his younger sister. He held her strongly, as her brother, supporting her when she was trying her absolute hardest simply to keep standing.

Horikita’s hair— which had been cut short —was fluttering.

“Oniisa—”

“You’re all right now. I’m sure of it,” said her brother, interrupting her.

There was no longer anything for me to say. There wasn’t any space for me to say anything.

“I’ve been silent for several years now about something. And it’s something I owe you an apology for.”

“An apology…?” asked Horikita, her face still buried in her brother’s chest. She didn’t know what he was talking about.

“I’m the main reason why our relationship has gotten so strained,” he replied.

“What do you mean by that…?” she asked, in a quiet voice.

“A long time ago, I told you that I like long hair. That was a lie I told on purpose.”

“Huh? Wh-what do you mean?!” she replied, the shock evident in her voice. She must not have known, even now.

“I did it on purpose, to confirm something. You had always preferred short hair, and I was wondering if you would take me at my word and would grow your hair long, even if it meant losing a bit of your own personality,” said her brother.

As a result, Horikita had started growing her hair out in order to suit her brother’s preferences. Which was exactly why her brother immediately understood where things stood with his sister when they reunited at this school. He knew that Horikita Suzune hadn’t changed one bit. When he met with his younger sister, who continued to simply chase her brother’s shadow and nothing more, he was filled with disappointment. He didn’t even need to go so far as to check whether or not she was good at her studies or sports.

“…Please forgive me for lying to you.”

“…That was really cruel, oniisan.”

“I have no excuse.”

Maybe her brother purposefully didn’t come clean about the lie because he was trying to detect some kind of change in his sister, whom he believed would change some day.

“I forgive you, oniisan, for that lie. Since I’m sure that it’s because of that lie that I’m here today.”

It was precisely because Horikita, too, understood the reason for the lie that she smiled and forgave her brother for it. Manabu held her shoulders, and the two siblings looked at one another, face-to-face. Horikita was smiling ear-to-ear as she looked up at her brother. When her brother saw that, he returned a smile of his own, almost like he’d taken off a mask.

It wasn’t like he was a guy who never smiled at all. But this was just the first time I’d seen him smile so gently. I’d never see that smile ever again. Just one more year… I felt like if I could have spent just one more year with him in the same school, I could have gotten to know the person named Horikita Manabu better. Gotten closer to him. And I might have been able to change.

That really was a pity.

“Suzune. In two years, I’ll be waiting for you outside this gate. Please show me how much you’ve grown, then.”

“Okay. I will do my best… I’ll continue fighting until the very end,” she replied.

Everything that stood in the way of Horikita’s growth had now been removed. From here on out, Horikita would continue running forward, as far as she could go.

“Ayanokouji. I’m also looking forward to meeting you, too,” said Manabu.

Perhaps Horikita’s brother was feeling the same way I was.

“Yeah, definitely,” I replied.

Even though I knew that it was a wish that wouldn’t ever come true, I agreed strongly that we were feeling the same way.

“Well, it’s about time.”

It was almost twelve-thirty. Before I even realized it, the time that the bus was supposed to be arriving was already fast approaching. The Horikita siblings pulled apart from each other slowly, albeit reluctantly.

“Until we meet again.”

And with those parting words, Horikita’s brother passed through the front gate. And just like that, he left. Horikita continued watching him, fixated on his back, trying not to even blink. I felt like Horikita Manabu had left behind a signpost for both his younger sister and for me.

5.1

E VEN THOUGH Horikita’s brother could no longer be seen through the gate, she and I still continued looking in that direction for a while. But it wasn’t like we could just sit around and stay immersed in this sentimental moment forever. Horikita seemed like she was petrified, unable to move. I used my words to break her free.

“It’s going to feel lonely, isn’t it?”

“…Yes.”

Although it wasn’t like they were saying their final farewells or anything, she still wasn’t going to be able to see her brother or even hear his voice for two years. But Horikita’s expression remained firm, and the look on her face seemed dignified, resolute.

“Thank you, Ayanokouji-kun… I’m glad you were here today.”

“Is that so? I thought I was just getting in the way, though,” I replied.

“That’s not true. If you hadn’t talked with my brother, then I wouldn’t have caught up in time. I’m truly grateful,” said Horikita.

Horikita once again expressed words of gratitude to me, a guy who was clearly out of place here. But she wasn’t even looking at me, she turned to look away, like she was looking in the direction of the future.

“Besides, this is the day that my brother left. It would have been sad if I was the only one to see him off…”

Although you could say that was what her brother had decided, it certainly did seem a little sad, I supposed.

He was someone who should have had a lot of students coming to see him off. I’m sure that the reason why he only had us come here was for his little sister’s sake. In order to make it easier for Horikita to face herself, he kept everyone else away. Maybe her brother had planned that far ahead, taken that into account.

“I also had a kind of connection with your brother, too. Enough so that I wanted to talk to him a little more,” I told her.

Initially, I didn’t really treat talking to him as a welcome thing. But now, I think I really would have liked to have talked with him a little more. Hindsight is 20/20 they say, I suppose. The two of us walked back toward the dormitory.

“Anyway, though, you really chopped a lot of hair off, huh?” I told her.

Considering the fact that she looked the same as she always did up until yesterday, and that she had gotten here late, it wasn’t hard to imagine that she had hastily come up with the idea to cut her hair this morning. I’m sure it was a last-minute decision.

“I used to always like it like this. But now it feels kind of strange,” she replied.

However, that being said, I suppose it wasn’t like she could just hastily lop her hair off and spoil her brother’s big moment. In order to see her brother off in proper form, she had to bet on making an all-or-nothing last-ditch effort, even if that meant choosing to arrive late. In the end, though, Horikita won.

“But wouldn’t it have been a better idea if you had talked to me about that in advance? If you were afraid of missing your chance of seeing your brother, you could have improved your chances of meeting him by using me to keep him here,” I answered.

If I had known for sure that she was coming, I could have given her a little helping hand. It was a good thing that I just so happened to talk to her brother and buy her a little time, but…

“So, if I asked you for something, you would honestly help me, then?” she asked.

“I would have for today, at least,” I replied.

“I’m not so sure about that. Well, that’s what I’d like to tell you, but… The truth is, I actually tried to ask you for help,” said Horikita.

But when I took out my phone, I didn’t see any kind of record showing that she had tried to contact me.

“It’s because I was in too much of a hurry, I suppose. I forgot my phone in my dorm room when I left to go get my hair cut. I didn’t realize it until after I started getting it cut. God, I really am a mess, aren’t I?” she added.

Meaning she had gotten herself into a situation where there was nothing she could have done. It would have been much quicker for her to make a mad dash for the front gate rather than trying to go back for her phone after she got her haircut.

“Such an idiot,” said Horikita, smiling with self-derision.

“It just tells me how big a deal this decision was for Horikita, that you made today.”

It was a little amusing, though, to imagine Horikita rushing into the salon the second it was opening. Since Horikita usually did things in a very calculated manner, I supposed it wasn’t unreasonable to think that she’d make a mistake if she were flustered.

“Cutting my hair was my way of drawing a line in the sand, of making a statement about where I stand.”

“So, you weren’t thinking about what your brother’s likes were at the time? It wasn’t in the back of your mind?” I asked.

“Of course not. I was simply thinking of going back to how I used to be. The time I had started growing it out happened to coincide with the time that I had started to follow in my brother’s footsteps. In that sense, I thought it would be the best way to convey my feelings,” said Horikita.

It was the best course of action, but it was just a coincidence, then. After seeing her with long hair for a year, the feeling that there was something different about her was overwhelming.

“So, how does it feel to be back to being you, after all these years?” I asked.

“How does it feel? I don’t really know how to answer that. It’s true that when I was little, I liked short hair like what I have now. But after having long hair for so long, you feel a kind of affection for it. It’s kind of a complicated feeling, to be honest,” she replied.

Short hair, which she used to like. And long hair, which she had come to accept having now. Her old self and her current self. There wasn’t any doubt that both of them were Horikita Suzune.

“Right now, I feel like I could accept either version of myself,” she added, as she touched her now short hair with her fingertips. “Which is why I’m going to think things over again, from the beginning. Because there are things about me right now that I’m not seeing. Do I continue to grow my hair out until I graduate? Or do I keep it short? If I do keep growing my hair back out, it’ll probably take about two years before it gets back to its original length… Well, I suppose that would be just in time for graduation.”

Her old self, and the self that she had been just before now. Horikita had accepted both of them.

“What I do know is that it doesn’t matter how long my hair is. I’ll be able to meet my brother proudly,” said Horikita.

I’ll be looking forward to seeing what the future would hold for Horikita as well, now that she had cut her hair short. Right at the very last moment, Horikita Manabu had left his sister a great asset. I had thought that Horikita wouldn’t grow without significant help, but it seems like that might have ended up being an error in judgment on my part.

“Do you miss him?” I asked.

To be honest, I feel like even if she had a whole hour…well, no, actually, even a whole day to talk with him, she still wouldn’t be able to say everything that she wanted to. She probably had a million things that she wanted to talk to him, years of thoughts of feelings that had built up. There was so much she wanted to say that she couldn’t even if she wanted to.

“Well… Yeah, I can’t help missing him,” she replied, nodding, as if to convince herself of the fact. “Anyway, though, the wall that stood between my brother and me has been taken down now. I just have to get through these next two years, and then afterward, I can talk a lot with him. Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah, that’s certainly true. He even told you that he’ll be waiting for you to graduate,” I replied.

Once the graduation ceremony was over, she would be free to contact people outside the school. When that time comes, would she be able to face her brother proudly and talk to him about everything?

“Well, it feels like today was a richly rewarding day. If I got anything more today, I feel like it’d just be getting greedy, and karma would come back to bite me,” said Horikita, quickly changing the topic.

Yes. On the surface, she was changing the topic, at least. I’m sure that she had changed the topic because she was trying her absolute hardest to stay calm and collected in her mind. But it wasn’t that easy to just change how you felt and switch back to normal.

“But… This is enough, though,” she said, stopping in her tracks but not turning around to look at me when she said that. She wasn’t showing her face to me. Well, actually, I think it would be more accurate to say that she couldn’t look at me.

“What’s up?” I asked.

Although I knew what was really going on, I decided I’d play dumb and ask her that question. The usual cool-headed Horikita would’ve probably noticed that I had been playing dumb from what I had said. But right now, she didn’t have that composure, so she wasn’t in a state to see through me.

“I…I’m going to take a little detour on my way back,” said Horikita.

It was like she was trying to throw me off the trail, implicitly telling me to head on back by myself.

“A detour?” I asked.

Even though I asked her where she was going, she couldn’t give me an answer.

“It’s just, well, I think I’ll go for a walk around,” she replied, giving me an ambiguous answer. There was a slight trembling in her voice.

“Want me to come with?” I asked.

“No, thank you,” she replied.

After she said that, still being vague, she turned her back to me and started walking away. She wasn’t heading toward Keyaki Mall, nor she was heading toward the convenience store either. She seemed to be walking off in search of a place where there weren’t any people around. I suppose that she wouldn’t exactly find such a place if she were to head back to the dorms together with me.

I followed Horikita. Of course, she was intending to be alone, but she wouldn’t be able to calm down if she were being followed.

“Why…are you following me?” she asked in a hushed voice, without even turning back to look at me.

“Dunno, I wonder,” I replied.

“If you don’t have any reason to, then don’t follow me,” she shot back.

She was refusing me, but I showed absolutely no pretense of heading back. Because Horikita had done a number of nasty things to me over the past year.

“All right, then I’ll give you a reason. Because I wanted to be a little mean to you,” I replied.

“…What are you even saying? I can’t understand you,” she shot back.

“I see. In that case, I’ll tell you.”

“You don’t need to say anything,” said Horikita.

“No, that won’t do,” I answered.

I slowly opened my mouth to speak once more, intending to collapse the defensive line that Horikita was holding.

“When you’re sad, wouldn’t it be better to just let it all out and cry?” I asked her.

That was it. That’s all I said.

“…Were you not listening to what I just said?” she replied.

“I was listening. I’m sure you must have been really happy that you were able to reconcile with your brother, right?” I told her.

“Yes, I was. And I was satisfied. So, what do I have to be sad about? Huh?”

“But there’s no way you could be satisfied. Sure, it’s true that you might be able to talk to him again in two years. But it’s not like people are creatures that are satisfied that easily,” I told her.

The girl who had been dreaming of this day now had to postpone it for another two years. I’m sure it wasn’t like she wasn’t feeling a sense of clarity about this, but I’m sure that wasn’t all there was.

“I’m…I’m satisfied. I am.”

“In that case, how about you turn around and look at me?” I asked.

Horikita still had her back to me. She shook her head no, without even listening to my request.

“I refuse. Why would I need to look at you?” she asked in return.

“I don’t know. I wonder,” I replied.

I hurriedly walked up to Horikita, saying just one more thing to her as she was trying to get away.

“It’s okay to cry.”

Reuniting with her brother after being apart for two years, only to be rejected. Her solitary battle on the uninhabited island, with a high fever. Playing a thankless role in the class poll. But in all those times, Horikita never cried.

“I-I…” she stammered.

She tried to keep moving forward, but her legs stopped. After trying and trying for so long, she had just finally been able to have an actual heart-to-heart moment with her brother. I’m sure that from tomorrow onward, they would be able to go back to how they were and be able to laugh together and talk together. However, her brother had already crossed the gate and was starting a new phase of his life. The next time they would be able to see each other would be two years from now, at the earliest.

“Stop… Stop it…” she replied, her voice slowly starting to tremble more.

During these next two long years at this school, Horikita would have to fight.

“But there’s nothing I can do about it…!”

Horikita tried to argue back with herself, but the things that she had been holding in just flowed out of her.

“Because…!”

She was thinking of her brother, who she had only just parted with.

“Even though I finally… I finally realized what my mistake was…!”

She collapsed and fell to her knees. She covered her face with both of her hands, trying desperately to stop the flowing tears.

“I’ve been separated from my brother again…!”

I’m sure that if she could have, she would have run out through the gate together with her brother. She didn’t breathe a word of those thoughts though, and she had resolutely watched her brother leave.

“Yeah. I’m sure you’re feeling lonely,” I told her.

“Yes, I am… I am…!” she wailed.

She was wailing, large tears streaming down her face, like she was a small child.

Tears continued to pour from her eyes, but Horikita was still trying to hold them back. If she didn’t have school, I’m sure that Horikita would have followed her brother wherever he might go. Be able to see him whenever she wanted to, be able to talk to him whenever she wanted.

“So, go ahead, you can cry your eyes out right now, get it all out. Then, afterward, you can show your brother how much you’ve grown when you meet again. You’ve started to change, right at this very moment,” I told her.

There wasn’t any need for her to fret. Two years. In two years, I’m sure that Horikita can grow much, much more. I’m sure that her brother is looking forward to that, too.

“Isn’t that right…Manabu?” I muttered to myself.

My voice couldn’t reach him anymore. It disappeared into the blue sky, which was about to welcome spring.

5.2

N OT LONG AFTER pouring out her emotions, Horikita had stopped crying. But her willpower must have not yet returned to her, because she was still sitting down. I stood next to her, waiting quietly for the right moment. Fortunately enough, there didn’t seem to be anyone else around. There weren’t any other students around who could see us.

“I’m glad.”

“What’s there to be glad about? It’s humiliating to me that you saw that…”

I had tried to offer her a little comfort, but I suppose that it wasn’t going to be that easy.

“Well, I suppose you’re right,” I replied.

That’s exactly why she was trying to be alone, I supposed. If I hadn’t been there, no one would have seen her crying.

“But what’s done is done, you saw it. I’ll try to look on the bright side. Turn it into a positive.”

“Turn it into a positive?” I asked.

“…I’m glad it was you who saw me. That’s what I’ve decided to think,” she replied.

She let out a deep sigh, sounding like she was really relieved. It certainly wasn’t the kind of look that she had wanted other students to catch a glimpse of, that’s for sure.

“All right. How about I share what happened today with Keisei and the others?” I asked, taking out my phone and aiming the camera lens at her.

“Do you want me to kill you?” she asked in return.

After seeing her bright red eyes glaring at me, I immediately put my phone away.

“It was a joke,” I replied.

“Seeing as how you make such pointless jokes, it makes me want to teach you what ‘appropriate time and place’ means,” she replied.

I supposed that if she could talk this much smack with me, that meant she was probably okay now.

“…Somehow, this seems kind of similar to something that happened a year ago.”

“You might be right.”

I remembered that we had talked like this in the middle of the night before, although it was in a slightly different place. Horikita, after reuniting with her brother, was feeling incredibly dejected. Even though today’s situation was the complete opposite of what happened then, I was feeling a sense of déjà vu.

“Why in the world do I keep making mistakes when you’re there right in front of me, watching me? You just happen to sit next to me in class,” huffed Horikita.

Come to think of it, I suppose that I’ve had a strange connection to Horikita ever since we’ve started school here, from the looks of it. It seems as though Horikita doesn’t like that at all though, apparently.

“How about you show me some of your mistakes once in a while?” she added, lamenting about how the situation was unfair.

“Mistakes, huh? Well, you did see one, recently. I lost that chess game against Sakayanagi,” I replied.

“I wouldn’t call that a mistake. That was simply a loss,” she shot back.

It didn’t seem like I could satisfy her, apparently.

“All right, just hope for something to happen when we become second-year students then,” I told her.

“I suppose that’s all I can do. I’ll be certain to add it to the list of things I’m looking forward to in the future,” she replied.

It sounded like Horikita wanted payback for me seeing her cry today, at any cost. At any rate though, I have to say, Horikita cutting her hair really was immensely shocking and impactful.

“I’m sure that a lot of people are going to be shocked when they see you,” I told her.

I’m sure that among our classmates, there would naturally be some of those who wanted to change their image up a little bit, but not that many.

“I don’t mind if they’re shocked to see me, really. It doesn’t really matter to me,” said Horikita, declaring that how other people viewed her didn’t matter and that she didn’t care.

I’m sure that Sudou would probably be the first person to pick up on her new look. There were only a few days left of spring break, so I’m sure that word might get around in that time… Well, no, if anyone were to witness her with short hair in that time, I’m sure that information would spread.

“I know this probably isn’t the best time to bring it up, but do you remember the contest we talked about the other day?” I asked.

“Of course,” she replied.

“I’ve come up with something. About what I want to request from you, when I win,” I told her.

“Huh… I had thought for sure you would’ve waited until much later to tell me. To try to shake me up, mentally,” said Horikita.

“No, I hadn’t thought of doing something underhanded like that. It’s just that I simply didn’t think of anything before is all,” I replied.

Even though she still seemed somewhat suspicious of me, Horikita urged me to say what my request was.

“If I win, then I want you to join the student council,” I told her.

“…I believe I’ve already talked to you about this before,” she replied.

Before, I had asked Horikita if she was interested in joining the student council. I told her that her brother endorsed her, even though he actually hadn’t. He told me to decide whatever I wanted. I even had Horikita call her brother to back up what I said, but in the end, she had refused the idea of joining.

“Yeah. So, can you accept my condition?” I asked.

“I am not interested in joining the student council whatsoever, but…fine. Besides, all I have to do is win,” said Horikita, agreeing to my request, saying that as long as she won, there was no problem.

“But even so, there’s no guarantee that I’ll actually be able to join, is there?” she added.

“Don’t worry about that part. Nagumo is basically the type of person who would welcome anyone,” I replied.

He was very different from Manabu, who rejected a great number of people. More importantly though, since Horikita was Manabu’s sister, there was no way that Nagumo would just flat-out reject her.

“Can you at least tell me the reason why you want me to join the student council?” she asked.

“That’s a secret. I’ll tell you when you lose,” I replied.

“I really don’t like this. Is it not okay for me to at least hear that much right now?” she answered, urging.

“You’re thinking about what’s going to happen when you lose again, huh?” I asked.

“…That’s not it. I’m going to win. I just wanted to hear what your reason was ahead of time, is all. And besides, I could interpret what you said to mean that when you lose, you won’t tell me the reason why you want me to join.”

It was certainly true that after the outcome was decided there wouldn’t be any point in telling her the reason.

“Your brother has been concerned about Nagumo Miyabi for a long time. That’s why,” I replied.

“So, that means you want me to stand watch and monitor the student council president, then?” she asked.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“My brother requested you to do this, didn’t he?” said Horikita, directing her gaze at me, looking somewhat frustrated.

“Well, you two weren’t able to really maintain a friendly relationship before, so there wasn’t much choice,” I replied.

If they had opened up to each other before, Manabu might have been talking to his sister about this from the beginning.

“Stop being so modest. My brother pays more attention to you than anyone else at this school. If that wasn’t true, he wouldn’t have invited you to see him off on his last day. Seriously… Why is it always you ?” she huffed, complaining, slowly getting to her feet.

“Let’s stop talking about this. I’m going to put you out of my mind for a while,” said Horikita, shaking off the notion in exasperation, almost as if to say that if we didn’t stop talking about this, she wouldn’t be able to take it.

“There’s just one last thing I want to check with you about though, Horikita,” I told her.

“What is it? Are you planning on saying more weird things to me?” she replied.

“It’s about Kushida. I figured I’d give you a quick rundown on the current situation, and what I’m thinking,” I told her.

Horikita cocked her eyebrow at me, apparently feeling suspicious, after hearing me bring up something that she didn’t quite understand.

“Current situation?” she asked.

In order to prevent Kushida from running amok, I entered into a contract with her. The deal was that I would give her half of the Private Points I had earned each month, in order to protect myself. That way, I would be able to remove myself from Kushida’s list of targets.

“Are…you an idiot? How could you come up with such a ridiculous contract?”

“I did it to gain Kushida’s trust,” I replied.

“Even so, that was just completely thoughtless. Half of what you have every month is way too much,” said Horikita.

“I wouldn’t have been able to make her get real with me if I hadn’t done at least that much. But that being said, I’m sure that whatever trust I had gotten from her has completely gone up in smoke now, after you publicly called her out in class before.”

I supposed that rather than feeling dissatisfied with me right now, it seemed like she was probably feeling distrustful of me again.

“Oh, for the love of… I am honestly beginning to doubt whether you are actually such a superior person again after all,” said Horikita.

Although I understood that she was feeling exasperated, we still weren’t done with the topic at hand.

“So, what’s your reason for telling me this?” she asked.

“Because I’ve determined that making this crazy deal won’t be a hindrance to me in the future after all.”

“You don’t think that continuing to share half of your points will be a hindrance?” she asked.

“Because if the contract holder, Kushida, gets expelled, the risk is gone,” I told her.

When she heard what I had just said, Horikita’s hands stopped moving. She turned to look at me, her eyes still somewhat red.

“You just nonchalantly said something entirely outrageous just now. Was that a joke?” she replied.

“I was planning on getting Kushida expelled. Well, no, actually, I still think that she should be expelled, even now.”

“You’re not… joking, are you?”

“Nope. Even as early as last summer, I had the idea of getting rid of Kushida in mind,” I told her.

In truth, it wasn’t like there weren’t any good opportunities to have her eliminated.

“But… since you’re telling me this now, that means things have changed, then?” she asked.

“Yeah. I wanted to entrust that decision to you,” I replied.

Rather than passing down judgment myself, I’d let Horikita decide what to do about Kushida. That’s why I had told her about what was going on.

“Isn’t it obvious what I’m going to say? I have absolutely no intention of letting Kushida-san get expelled. No, rather, I have no intention of letting any of our classmates be discarded so carelessly, not a single one of them.”

It seemed like her will was becoming more resolute day after day, after all.

“But I have no intention of being as naïve as Hirata-kun. There are always students who are going to stand on that line, to be potentially sacrificed. Of course, who we have standing there may change, depending on their degree of contribution to the class,” said Horikita.

Meaning, if there was a situation where we needed to have someone expelled, like with what happened during the Class Vote, she would make that decision.

“And what happens if Kushida’s degree of contribution is the lowest?” I asked.

“Then she would become the prime candidate for expulsion when such a time comes,” replied Horikita.

There didn’t seem to be any lies or falsehoods in what she just said.

“But the possibility of Kushida falling down to the bottom tier of our class is very low,” she added.

“I know. From what I’ve seen, Kushida contributes quite a lot,” I replied.

She was capable both in academics and sports, and on top of that, she occupied an indispensable position in our class. Yamauchi’s expulsion had certainly caused her some pain, but nothing fatal.

“I just told you all this because I thought you could handle it. But the more that you grow, Horikita, and the more that you become the central figure of our class, the more Kushida will become a thorn in your side,” I added.

People who knew about Kushida’s past. A truth that cannot be erased, no matter what anyone did.

“So, you were thinking that you’d get rid of her before that happens then, I take it,” said Horikita.

“Yeah, that’s right. I mean, you’re not so naïve as to think that you’ll be able to persuade her into becoming your ally that easily, right?” I replied.

“I have to concede that point, I suppose. I am keenly aware of the fact that there’s no point in trying to persuade her or talk things out if I’m only going to do things halfway,” said Horikita.

So, even knowing that, she’s still planning to accept Kushida, huh? In the past, I suppose I would’ve regarded that as mere naivety, but things were a little different now.

“In that case, I guess there’s nothing more for me to say,” I answered.

“You…weren’t trying to get Kushida-san kicked out of class during the class vote, were you?” asked Horikita.

“That would’ve been stupid. Sure, even though she helped Yamauchi, she’s still deeply trusted by our classmates,” I replied.

“Y-yes, I suppose you’re right. And I couldn’t see anything that suggested you were trying to do something like that before… But now that you’ve told me about this, am I right to assume that you’re going to completely leave the matter of Kushida-san to me now, from here on out?” asked Horikita.

“Yep. I promise not to do anything,” I replied.

It was up to Horikita to decide what choice to make in the future.

“So, the reason that you’ve told me all of this is because you’ve determined that you’re able to overcome this obstacle?” she asked.

“Unfortunately, I’m not that optimistic. I have consistently been leaning toward the idea of eliminating Kushida, even now,” I replied.

“All right. In that case, why?” she asked.

After she had asked me for the reason why, I stopped to think.

“You haven’t thought about it before?” she asked.

“Yeah, I haven’t… Well, I suppose that what I’m doing right now isn’t efficient,” I answered.

Thinking about the future, quietly working to get Kushida expelled was definitely the correct decision. And yet, I didn’t do that. I’m going to leave that decision to Horikita. The reason. The reason for that was…

“I suppose it’s that…I wanted to see how you would deal with that obstacle, I guess,” I told her.

I wasn’t too confident in the answer that I had come up with after racking my brain, but there wasn’t anything else.

“Probably,” I added.

“I’ll just leave it at that, then. It seems like it’s a better idea for me to take whatever you say with a grain of salt,” she replied.

Horikita, having seemingly made a complete recovery now, started walking away.

“I’ll be going now. What about you?” she asked.

“I’m going to hang around for a little while longer,” I replied.

After giving me those brief parting words, Horikita returned to the dormitory. She might start crying again in the middle of the night, but I suppose that’d probably be fine for the time being. I thought back to my conversation with Ichinose the other day. Sakayanagi. Ryuuen. Horikita’s growth. I was looking forward to it. The battle between the four classes. I wondered how much more they could change after another year had passed.

There were tons of factors that could spur them to grow more. The words of wisdom that Manabu had imparted were still stuck in the back of my mind. Be someone who makes a mark on the memories of the other students.

“Talk about a hell of a parting gift to give me…” I muttered to myself.

The things I could do in order to be remembered by the other students. That would be doing things to help nurture those students, helping them grow, I supposed, right? And then I could have those students who have matured compete against one another, making them aim for even greater heights.

When I imagine myself in that position… Yeah, I suppose it would be fair to say that it does make me feel pretty excited, I guess. I’m starting to feel like this is going to be fun. In my mind, I unconsciously started analyzing the strengths of the classes, going through the calculations. The results that I could see after one year had passed. Every class was still looking to grow.

Their strengths were still far too feeble. I felt like my heart was starting to race, when I thought about those things. But at the same time, I felt like my heart was rapidly cooling down, as well.

“What I was looking for was…a peaceful everyday life… That’s what I originally wanted, wasn’t it?”

Right now, for the first time in my life, I felt like there was some kind of filter in my heart. What I know as my heart certainly seems to have grown over this past year, undeniably so. Well, no, actually, it’s still growing, even now. I’m sure that my heart is growing.

I tried to tell myself that. But it didn’t work. It was almost as if my own impressions about myself weren’t connecting with me. I wondered if the plating that had been sealing away my insides had just peeled off and fallen away. I couldn’t help but feel a kind of blackness, something like anxiety.

I…

I wondered if I’d still be here at this school around this time next year…

Such an inexplicable darkness…enveloped me.