First Encounter

Kokoro Connect Hito Random — LNCrawler · All chapters

First Encounter

At Yamaboshi High School, all students were obligated to take part in club activities.

At the start of their first year, they were required to choose a club from a ridiculously long list of potential options and submit a formal application before the deadline. It didn’t matter whether the student in question was actually interested in clubs, or hoping to work part-time, or planning to go straight home and play video games each night. All students, no exceptions.

This application was then submitted to their class advisor by the end of April. Most were approved immediately. Then, starting in May, students were permitted to start participating in their chosen activity.

For the most part, that was the usual process at Yamaboshi. But this process was far from perfect. In every category exist outliers. And each year, a small handful of students would inevitably hit a snag. For example, perhaps the club they wanted to join didn’t meet the minimum requirement of at least five members.

But outliers couldn’t escape the system, and these students would inevitably be reallocated to an active club as necessary. When it came to how they were reallocated, well...

This year, the teachers didn’t really feel like dealing with it—so they opted for something a little different.

—Day 1 According To Yaegashi Taichi—

Yaegashi Taichi and four other students accompanied Gotou Ryuuzen, advisor of Class 1-C, to the Rec Hall building.

“So this is where we’ll be assigning you your clubroom for the Cultural Research Club. Just so you know, the room next door is empty, but... Look, kids, just don’t get up to any funny business, you get what I mean?” Gotou grinned like a boy half his age as he opened the door to Room 401. “And—yep! Looks like the previous club left it nice and clean for you, so that’ll save you some time! Come on in, everybody.”

At his prompting, the five students filed into the room. On the left wall, in the corner, was a metal locker, followed by some storage cabinets, with a weathered black sofa on the opposite side of the room. There were also a few cardboard boxes lying around, filled with random junk. On the right wall was a blackboard, and in the center of the room were two long tables with six folding chairs situated around them.

“Now then! As I explained, all you need to do now is decide on a club activity. I don’t care how much effort you put into it, but whatever it is, make sure it sounds good on paper, alright?”

Indeed, it was clear from his lighthearted tone that he sincerely didn’t care one way or the other.

“Once you’ve decided, come let me know. Apparently I’m gonna be your club supervisor. Seriously, you kids lucked out. I’m already supervising something else, y’know, technically. Anyway, have fun!”

And so, without waiting for any kind of response, Gotou saw himself out.

“Wh... Hey, wait! Gotou-sensei!” shouted Inaba Himeko, one of Taichi’s classmates in 1-C.

Inaba was a pretty girl, but in his limited experience with her, she was touchy and irritable. They’d been classmates for a full month, but Taichi had barely ever spoken to her; she tended to radiate hostile vibes that kept most people at bay.

“Are you listening?! I said—ugh, he’s gone.”

Sadly, her cries fell on deaf ears, as Gotou had already beaten a hasty retreat back to the staff room.

“That asshole’s way too lazy to be a teacher. People like that are a burden on society.”

“Now, now, Inaba-san. Remember what he told us? He’s trying to be friendly and approachable. And don’t forget, he wants us to call him by his nickname, Gossan,” explained Nagase Iori, another of Taichi’s classmates.

Nagase had exceptional good looks, to the point that Taichi had heard other guys in class raving countless times about how “hot” or “cute” she was. Her hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, almost like an afterthought, but she wore the look well.

“Gossan ? That’s the most idiotic nickname I’ve ever heard. I’m calling him Gotou, and that’s that.”

“B-But that’s so disrespectful...” whispered Kiriyama Yui, from Class 1-A.

The most noticeable thing about Kiriyama was her long, chestnut-colored hair. Taichi had never spoken to her prior to today, but he remembered seeing some other girls coo over her (or at least, that’s what it looked like) during their shared gym class. As he recalled, she seemed to have surprisingly good athletic abilities.

Not that any of that protected her from the sharp glare Inaba sent her way for her dissent. As if struck, she flinched and shrank away.

“Inaba-saaan! No need to start mean-muggin’ everybody! We’re all stuck here, so we might as well be friends, amirite?” said Aoki Yoshifumi, Class 1-A, as he stepped in between the two.

Taichi recognized him from gym class, too. Tall and gangly, Aoki was always making jokes with a goofy grin on his face. It was hard not to notice a guy like that.

“Fuck off,” Inaba spat.

“Wow, really?! We just met and already you’re telling me to eff off?! That’s a little aggro, don’t you think?!” Aoki wailed melodramatically. In response, Inaba fixed him with a scornful scowl.

It was pretty clear the two of them weren’t going to see eye to eye anytime soon, so Nagase stepped in once again to mediate.

“Now, now, everybody. Let’s all just have a seat, shall we? Wait... Okay, I know I’m saying ‘now, now’ a lot today, but it’s not my catchphrase or anything, got it?!”

“Literally nobody was going to accuse you of that,” Taichi retorted under his breath.

At this, Nagase turned and stared directly into his eyes. Then she donned a smile sweeter than sugar itself.

Full disclosure, it made his pulse quicken.

Technically Gotou had introduced them all to each other earlier that morning, but for propriety’s sake, they all went around the room introducing themselves once again. After that, their next topic was the task Gotou had saddled them with.

“Long story short... I guess we’re the misfits who failed to get into an actual club,” Inaba mused. Taking charge seemed to come as second nature to her, because she was already leading the discussion. She scoffed. “You’d think he’d reassign us individually, but instead we get this. The man’s got balls, dumping us all into the same club.”

“So now we’re all registered as members of this brand new ‘Cultural Research Club,’ right? What’s our, like, objective or whatever?” Kiriyama asked.

“I think it was ‘a broader scope of research unfettered by existing frameworks,’ ” Nagase piped up.

Taichi nodded. “Which is pretty vague. I mean, that’s basically like saying ‘anything goes,’ don’t you think?”

“Anything goes?! So basically we can just screw around?! This club rocks!” Aoki shouted. He seemed to be the only one who didn’t feel any awkward tension in this room full of people he had only just met.

“Are you people actually serious about staying in this club?” Inaba asked, her level of enthusiasm the polar opposite of Aoki’s.

“Huh? Aren’t we already stuck here?” Aoki asked.

“Why the hell should we be stuck in some pointless—oh, I get it. All we have to do is make it so I still get to do the things I want to... Alright, well, I’m gonna need to use the data processing room, so we’d better apply for that.”

“What for?” Taichi asked.

“The great thing about this school is, it lets you access a ton of sites where you’d otherwise need a paid membership. And like I said, my hobbies are information gathering and analysis.”

“Okay, well, maybe you wanna do that, but—” Kiriyama began.

“Yeah, I do. What of it?” Inaba asked in a challenging tone.

“Um...” Intimidated, Kiriyama shrank down in her seat like an anxious bunny.

“Not like you people actually want to do anything important,” Inaba sneered, adding further fuel to the fire as she glanced around the room.

Taichi, for one, didn’t appreciate being condescended to—

“Th-... That’s not true !” Kiriyama shouted, her chair clattering behind her as she leapt to her feet.

Inaba blinked in surprise.

“You know what they say. Corner a cat and it’ll bite,” Taichi commented quietly.

“Nice one,” Nagase snickered.

With the spotlight now on Kiriyama, her cheeks flushed red. She was clearly nervous... but nevertheless, she pushed bravely forward.

“I, um... I really like cute stuff! Like, sincerely! Cute stuff is great because it makes people happy! So... yeah, I do think it’s... important or whatever.” Having said her piece, she returned to her seat.

Meanwhile, Aoki let out a whistle and started clapping. “You rock, Yui!”

“Wha...?! Will you calm down ?! And another thing—I told you not to call me by my given name! You’re just a stupid boy! A boy! A boy !”

We heard you the first time, Taichi thought. Evidently she had some kind of grudge against the male gender.

Out of nowhere, Nagase started laughing. “You guys seem like best friends!”

“No, we don’t!” Kiriyama snapped right as Aoki shouted “I know, right?!”

Evidently they weren’t on the same page.

“That’s a load of crap, Aoki-kun! Since when are we best friends?!”

“Since I decided we are!”

“Eww ! You’re delusional!”

And so Kiriyama and Aoki continued to bicker for quite some time afterwards. Idly, Taichi wondered if they were like this in class, too. If so, then Nagase probably wasn’t the only one who saw them as good friends.

Eventually the two of them settled down.

“Ugh... What a waste of my energy... Anyway, like, what were we talking about?” Kiriyama asked.

“We have to figure out what our club activity’s going to be, remember?” Taichi answered.

“Oh, that’s right. Okay, um—”

“Hey, you,” Inaba called.

“Yes?”

Just a moment ago Inaba was leaping down her throat, but now she seemed hesitant and uncertain. She scratched her head bashfully and averted her gaze. “Look, uh... I’m sorry for... talking shit about your hobby.”

“Oh, um... that’s okay,” Kiriyama replied, nodding.

And although the other three weren’t directly involved, in that moment, somehow it felt like all of them had grown a little closer.

“Is it just me, or... is Inaba-san actually kind of adorable?” Nagase grinned.

“Adorable , my ass! What part of this is ‘adorable’?!” Inaba shouted, slamming her hand on the table.

“Wait... Adorable? Inaba-san? ...Oh my god, you’re right... Holy crap, how did I not see it before?! YES! She’s so cute !”

“God damn, Kiriyama, calm down! You’re freaking me out! And both of you stop calling me cute! I’m not your fucking pet!”

“But being cute is what every girl dreams of!”

“Not this one!”

“Okay, got it!” Nagase clapped her hands together. “You want everybody to see you as a badass, and that’s why you swear so much! Right?”

For some reason Inaba seemed more offended by this than anything else. “Wh... I don’t do it for other people! This is just how I talk!”

“Hold up, Inaba-san! Why the heck would you choose not to be cute?! Like, on purpose?!”

“Don’t get pissy with me, Kiriyama! God, I seriously don’t understand you people and your freaky hobbies!”

“What’s there not to understand?! Cute stuff is just... cute !”

“That doesn’t explain anything!”

Taichi spotted a chance to speak up. “For the record, when you say ‘you people’... are you including me and my love of pro wrestling?” he asked Inaba.

“No shit, idiot! What’s so great about a bunch of grown men throwing each other around?! It makes zero sense!”

“What’s there not to understand...? Pro wrestling is just... pro wrestling! ”

“Like I said, that doesn’t explain anything! Oh, and by the way? The 1980s called—they want their hobby back!”

“Hey! Take that back! You can dislike pro wrestling all you want, but don’t you dare look down on it!”

“They’re not even real fights! It’s just make-believe!”

“Haah... You non-fans just don’t get it. It doesn’t matter that it’s make-believe. Yes, pro wrestling is a scripted show. But it’s not about who wins or loses—it’s about who does a better job of entertaining the audience! Frankly, the word ‘show’ doesn’t quite capture its depth. Only ‘pro wrestling’ can perfectly depict—”

“Wow, Yaegashi-kun’s real chatty all of a sudden!” Aoki commented.

“He sounds like one of those annoying ‘well, actually’ guys!” Nagase agreed.

“And here I thought maybe he was normal...” Kiriyama sighed.

Inaba clucked her tongue. “This is why I can’t stand you fanboy types.”

“W-Was it something I said...?”

“Now that I think about it,” Inaba replied, “we were all marked as oddballs right from the moment we tried to join our various non-standard clubs, weren’t we? And for that matter, we still have no idea what those two even want to do.”

“I’m fine with whatever, as long as it’s fun! Then again, anything’s a blast with Yui here!” Aoki struck a triumphant pose.

Meanwhile, Kiriyama flushed pink and started to panic. “I... I told you, quit imagining things! Don’t talk about me! Don’t even think about me!”

Was Aoki teasing her, or did he sincerely feel that way?

“Yeah. As long as the club’s fun in some way, I’m down for anything,” replied Nagase, the girl who had asked her teacher to decide on a club for her. She grinned.

In the end, the Cultural Research Club spent their first day making absolutely no progress in deciding on a club activity. That said, Taichi did get to know his new clubmates a little better.

Inaba Himeko had appeared prickly and aloof at first glance, but judging from the way she apologized to Kiriyama, she seemed like she had a good head on her shoulders. Her foul mouth wasn’t representative of her personality in general; she was simply the sort of person who didn’t bother sugarcoating her opinions.

Kiriyama Yui was a bit shy, but it was clear she was passionate about her interests (maybe even a little too passionate at times), and she was still brave enough to push back against the others, especially her classmate Aoki. She’d probably be a lot more fun once she opened up to them.

Similar to what Taichi had witnessed in their shared gym class, Aoki Yoshifumi seemed like the paragon of a “class clown” type. He didn’t even try to be subtle in his flirtations with Kiriyama—but was he really just messing with her? Because it kind of felt like he was serious about it.

Last but not least, Nagase Iori. Truth be told, Taichi still wasn’t quite sure how to describe her. Obviously she was pretty, and really nice, and considerate, and funny... but it felt like there was something more to her. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on...

In summary, they all seemed like nice, fun, and interesting people. That said, Taichi was a little concerned about the current gender split. After all, if Aoki was ever absent—if he was out sick or something—then Taichi would end up the only guy in a room full of girls. Talk about awkward. What would they even talk about at that point?

But the biggest problem by far was the club activity dilemma.

Taichi was a pro wrestling fan, and the very instant he found out there was a “Pro Wrestling Research Club,” his heart was set on joining it. But here in the Cultural Research Club, none of the other members were fellow fans. They didn’t even seem interested in learning more about it (though they were free to change their minds at any time).

So what was the point of him staying in this club? Was he going to waste his entire high school career doing pointless nonsense?

Maybe it wasn’t too late to switch clubs.

In middle school he was on the baseball team; his family had suggested to him that he should try out for the high school team, too. Not only that, but a friend in his class had invited him to join the soccer team.

If he didn’t spend high school in a proper club, he’d regret it for the rest of his life... right?

Calmly, Taichi began to list out the pros and cons... and the more he thought about it, the more he started to feel like he needed to make a change. No matter how he looked at it, joining a sports team seemed like the objectively better choice from every angle.

He knew the Yamaboshi school rules forbade students from quitting a club outright, but he was pretty sure they were allowed to switch clubs instead... I’d better check the student handbook to make sure.

One thing Taichi noticed, however: for a group of people that had (for the most part) never spoken to each other prior to today, it felt like they’d all made friends with each other really quickly. One would think the two-guy, three-girl split would have made things awkward, but looking back, Taichi himself had felt pretty comfortable around them—almost like it wasn’t really his first time meeting them.

Weird.

—Day 3 According To Kiriyama Yui—

How could this happen?! I cursed myself silently.

My name is Kiriyama Yui, and I love cute stuff. A lot.

As far as private schools went, Yamaboshi seemed like it was pretty lax in the rules department, so I was looking forward to showing off my style. And luckily for me, there were soooo many cute girls in my grade! (Trust me, I did my homework.) I knew I was right to choose Yamaboshi over that all-girls’ school.

And when it came time to choose my club, I discovered the perfect choice: the Style Club. Oh, it was love at first sight! I couldn’t wait to discover the glitz and glamour that awaited me when I arrived!

But sadly, what actually awaited me was...

“What if we all go watch a pro wrestling show once a month, then discuss the finer points together afterward?”

“Hmmm... Instead of trying to set up some kind of strict routine, why don’t we all just take turns picking an activity for the day?”

“That does sound fun! But let’s be real—if we do that, we’re basically refusing to commit to anything at all. I mean, look at us! It’s been two days ’n we haven’t decided jack!”

Aoki was right. Instead of figuring out an activity for our new club, we’d spent the past couple days totally goofing off. But to be fair, why the heck would they make a club for us and then expect us to just “figure something out”? It felt, like, completely backwards.

“What do you think, Yui?” asked Aoki.

“I told you, stop—ugh...” Honestly, by this point, I was tired of yelling at him for using my given name. “Personally, I want to spend my club time looking for cute stuff, or making my own.”

Then Inaba, who was sitting diagonally across from me, let out this big dramatic sigh. “That’s what I don’t understand. Why would you base a whole activity around something as subjective as ‘cute’?”

I scowled. “Oh yeah? Then what’s the point of your ‘go on the internet and gather information’ hobby? Like, what do you even need it for?”

“Information has all sorts of uses. For example...” She paused, gazing into my eyes. “Once upon a time, you were considered a karate prodigy.”

She dug up my past?

“It’s just handy to know these things, don’t you think? If some creep tries to attack me, you’ll be the first person I call. Not that I expect that to ever happen.”

“Wait, Kiriyama-san does karate?” Nagase asked.

“That’s badass, Yui!” Aoki shouted.

“If you like martial arts, there’s a good chance you’d like pro wrestling,” Yaegashi remarked.

“Th... That stuff’s all in the past now,” I explained, forcing a smile.

“My point is, we should spend our club time productively instead of pissing it away on bullshit. So let’s just find things to research online. All I care about is getting to use the data processing room.”

“But you’re the only one who stands to gain anything from that,” Nagase pointed out.

We had absolutely nothing in common with each other. Inaba was too... pragmatic or whatever. Aoki and Nagase only cared about having fun. Yaegashi would not stop talking about stupid pro wrestling. And as for me, my main focus was all things cute.

With our priorities all over the place, it was totally obvious we’d never be able to come to an agreement. And so we kept talking in circles... until Inaba finally lost her patience.

“I mean, we’re just a ragtag bunch of misfits anyways! Why don’t we all just do our own thing, write an essay about it, and turn it in?”

On one hand, it sounded like she was just spitballing stuff at random, but on the other hand, it was a lot better than any other suggestion thus far. Still...

“I don’t like that,” I said firmly. “It just... feels like we’re cheating the system.”

There was a pause as her razor-sharp glare stabbed into me.

“Cheating the system? Hah... Your life must be so painfully dull.”

“Excuse me?!”

“But...” Inaba’s stony expression melted into a soft smile I didn’t know she was capable of making. “You’re a good egg, Kiriyama.”

“A good... egg...?”

It was so sudden, I couldn’t process it right away. Then, steadily, it set in.

“A good egg... Heehee...” Pleased, I smiled to myself.

“What a simpleton,” she scoffed. I ignored her.

All at once, Nagase lit up like fireworks. “Wait—didn’t something like this happen last time, too?! Do I sense a romantic spark , perhaps?! Are you two gonna get it on?!”

Then Aoki started yelling for some reason. “Tell me it’s not true, Yui! What about me?! Where do I fit into all this?!”

“Don’t make this weird, you assholes!” Inaba snapped.

“Y-Yeah, what she said!” I chimed in. “To be totally clear, my love for cuteness applies to people too, and while Inaba-san’s more ‘beautiful’ than ‘cute,’ I’m still more than happy to mess around with her. Oh, and while I’m on the subject, I really want to mess around with you too, Nagase-san. Your cuteness is like, certifiable! But just so you know, when I say ‘mess around,’ I’m not talking about anything weird. I mean like what kittens do when they play together—huh?”

Suddenly, I realized everybody was staring at me. And they looked... uncomfortable.

“...Uh, guys? What’s the matter?” I asked.

Seriously, what’s gotten into them? No, okay, let’s think this through. Maybe I... said something weird...? Something that... gives them the wrong idea about me...?

“G-Guys, no! It’s not that , okay?! I just like everything that’s cute, and girls are cute, so—b-but not in a weird way! Argh!”

The more I explained, the more it felt like I was digging a deeper hole for myself.

Then Taichi spoke up.

“So what you’re saying is... you’re a girl who likes other girls... which means...”

“NOOOO! ”

FALSE! I admit, I’m not comfy with boys, but NO! I am 100% NOT into girls like that! Right? Right! Okay, now I just need to explain to them that they have the wrong idea! Uhhh...

“Just... no! I’m not! I, um...”

Some kind of explanation! Anything! But first, I need to calm down! Everyone’s looking at me! I just... Ugh, I can’t handle this right now!

“Grrrrrrrr!”

Frustrated, I bolted from the room before I could even process why I was running.

Behind me, I heard Nagase ask, “You need to be more discreet with this stuff, Yaegashi-kun!”

Ugh, I’m totally going to die of embarrassment!

“Yui! Where the heck are you going at 100 kilometers an hour?!” one of my friends from class shouted after me as I ran out of the Rec Hall and across the athletic field.

“Stop, Yui!” another called.

It wasn’t that late, but their club activities were already over for the day, and now they were leaving campus to go hang out downtown.

Yamaboshi had a lot more clubs than the average high school, and so they all had to take turns using the field or gym. Naturally, club activities ended early on days when they couldn’t use the space they needed.

“Look, Yui, you should really just join me on the track team. Your godlike speed is going to waste!” said Yukina, the friend I ate lunch with all the time.

“Godlike speed ? Oh, please.”

“No, seriously! I just watched you run all the way across the field! Not sure why you were clutching your face and tearing your hair out, but still... Ugh, I’m tempted to give up and go throw my track shoes in the trash.”

I really don’t think I was running faster than a track athlete, but whatevs. “But—”

“If not track, then how about basketball? We don’t have a lot of members, so you’re practically guaranteed a spot on the lineup! Real talk, I’ve been dying to recruit you ever since I saw that crazy vertical jump you pulled off on the first day of school!” Kaori gushed.

“Basketball? I’m not good at those kinds of sports...”

“What? After the way you played in gym class?! Ugh, now I want to throw my shoes in the trash.”

“That’s a mood,” Yukina nodded.

No, seriously, you guys! I’m really not that talented!

“Trust me, you don’t want me. I mean, I...”

I already gave up on my passion once, so to me, you guys are the real superstars.

“I guess if you were going to join an athletic club, it’d be karate, huh? That’s your specialty,” Yukina mused.

“Wait, what? You do karate? That’s so cool!” Kaori exclaimed.

“I... I’m actually on break from karate right now. I quit a long time ago, so... it’s all in the past.”

Yeah... It’s all in the past.

“Well, anyways! I don’t know what you guys even do in the ‘Cultural Research Club’ or whatever, but you should totally switch to a sports team instead,” said Yukina.

“Yeah! Your talents are totally going to waste. Like, it’d make sense if your club was at least working towards some kind of goal, but you aren’t!” said Kaori.

“Nngh...” I didn’t really have a counterargument.

Truth be told, I could see their points. Our club didn’t have a goal or even a set activity. It was totally pointless in every way... The other members were pretty cool, though.

Yaegashi Taichi was a pro wrestling fanboy who always made snarky comments under his breath, but I liked his open honesty.

Inaba Himeko seemed really intimidating at first, but after getting to know her, I realized she actually wasn’t all that scary. In fact, I was pretty sure she was actually a total sweetheart deep down.

Nagase Iori was really cute. Like, totes adorbs. Plus, she had a fun, outgoing personality, so she was actually kind of perfect? But for some reason, I kept sensing this... darkness from her every now and then. Or was I just imagining it?

Lastly, Yoshifumi Aoki... Frankly, I didn’t really enjoy thinking about him. I knew he liked me, but... Sorry. No, really. It’s not your fault, but yeah...

I could see myself getting along with them just fine, but... their values were just so different from mine. We all wanted different things from the club. And because of that, it was hard to picture us coming together to unite around a common goal.

Would I be able to accomplish anything important in this club? What about on a sports team? What’s the purpose of doing club activities? What is achieved if those activities are pointless? It’d be one thing if I chose this club of my own free will, but I didn’t.

Truth be told, Yukina and Kaori weren’t the only ones trying to recruit me to their teams. And at one point, I found out that there’s an exception to the five-member minimum rule: Should the member count dip below the minimum after the club has already gained approval, the club will remain in effect for the rest of the school year. In other words, me quitting the Cultural Research Club wouldn’t cause any problems for any of the other members.

I had already made my peace with quitting karate forever, so if I was going to join an athletic club, it wouldn’t be that one... Maybe it was time for me to start giving it some thought.

Your talents are going to waste . Did I really have talent? That seemed like an exaggeration.

Still...

Granted, I was a fairly loud and energetic person, but normally I would never yell like that in front of people I barely knew. It felt way too early to claim that we’d all made friends with each other, but at the same time... somehow I already felt right at home with them.

And one last thing I noticed: I didn’t feel all that nervous around Yaegashi and Aoki. For some reason they were just a little less scary than the average guy.

But if I could just figure out why that was, maybe I—

—Day 5 According To Aoki Yoshifumi—

Five days had passed since Gotou told us “As of today, you’re all in the Cultural Research Club” and dropped us off at the clubroom, and now it was Friday.

As for me, Aoki Yoshifumi, I’d made a point of showing up at Rec Hall Room 401 every day after school. Sadly, the discussion had made absolutely no progress.

“Hey, I know! Let’s all give each other nicknames!” Nagase declared, throwing everything off track.

“Nicknames? What for?” asked Yaegashi.

“I mean, we’re all clubmates now, aren’t we? We can’t keep calling each other ‘Surname-san’ and ‘Lastname-kun’ like we’re strangers!”

Classic Nagase, back at it again with another great suggestion. “Yes! I’m down! I’m so down!” I shouted, raising my hands into the air. We needed nicknames to help break the ice!

“Pass. Sounds stupid,” Inaba complained with a scowl. But Nagase didn’t back down.

“C’mon, don’t be a wet blanket, Inaba-san! They don’t all have to be goofy—we could always just do given names instead!”

“Oh, I see. So when you say ‘let’s give each other nicknames,’ what you mean is ‘let’s figure out how we’re going to refer to each other.’”

“That’s the spirit, Yaegashi-kun! Speaking of which... Me personally, I can’t stand calling you ‘Yaegashi-kun.’ Too many syllables! I feel like I stumble over it every time!”

“Oh... Sorry...”

You don’t gotta apologize, dude, I thought to myself. Maybe I should’ve said that one out loud.

“Okay, let’s see... Something for Yaegashi-kun... Uhhh... Yaa-kun... Yaecchi... Yaa-chan... Yaa-kun-san...”

“Nagase, whatever you do, please don’t call me that last one. People are going to think I’m a yakuza .”

Can’t argue there, I thought.

“Hmmm... Your given name is... Taichi, right? Taichi... Hmm... Taichi. Yeah, Taichi feels right.”

“Taichi ,” I repeated aloud, testing the water. “Yeah, that fits. Really rolls off the tongue, too. Perfecto!”

“I don’t mind it coming from Aoki, but when it’s a girl using my given name, it feels... I don’t know. Intense.”

“Oh, relax! You’re reading way too much into it. You guys don’t mind, right?” Nagase asked Yui and Inaba.

“T-Taichi... Okay, Taichi. Got it,” Yui nodded to herself like she was psyching herself up for it.

Wait, why is she blushing? Is she embarrassed to call a guy by his given name? She doesn’t have any special feelings for him, does she? Nah, no way. And if she does, well, we can cross that bridge when we get to it.

“I didn’t have a problem calling him Yaegashi, but... alright, Taichi it is. Saves me time, I guess... Ugh. Great, now you’ve roped me into it.” Inaba seemed unexcited, but otherwise willing.

Hey, at this rate maybe I can get Yui to call me Yoshifumi! Or some kind of cute nickname! The perfect opportunity to deepen our bond!

“Uno!”

“Uh, Aoki-kun? What was that? ” Yui asked dubiously.

“Huh? Oh, I dunno. I just figured, if this was a game of Uno, this would be the time to say it, y’know?” Not that I’d know. I’ve never played Uno before.

“Wh... What does any of this have to do with Uno...?” She fixed me with a dismal look.

Not to worry—I knew this was the last time she’d ever look at me this way. Once we decided on my nickname, it’d be time to make my comeback... Not that I was losing or anything!

“Now for Kiriyama-san... Your friends call you Yui, right? It’s a cute name all on its own,” Nagase suggested.

“Yeah... That’s what a lot of my classmates call me.”

“Including me! Oh, but... I kinda wish I was the only one who got to call you that... y’know, so I could be special...” Relatable, am I right?

“Oh yeah? Well, I wish you were the only one who couldn’t call me that!”

Ah, the lady doth protest too much! Deep down, I know she’s fine with it... I mean, it’s not like she’s just resigned herself to it because she knows she can’t stop me, right?

Right?

“Yui, huh... Well, um... it feels like a pretty big step for me, so could I stick with Kiriyama until we get to know each other a little better?” asked Taichi.

“Oh, come on, Taichi! Get with the program!” Nagase insisted.

“What’s the matter, Taichi? Are you worried I’ll feel threatened by it?” I asked. “Well, don’t be. I’m not that insecure, trust me.”

“It’s not about you ,” Taichi and Nagase shot back in unison. Nice timing, you two.

“It’s just... awkward, that’s all.”

“You totally don’t have to force yourself before you’re ready.”

“C-Cool. Thanks for understanding, Kiriyama.”

Wait... Why’s she so nice to Taichi?

“Well, no matter what happens, I’ll always call you Yui!”

“You be quiet!”

Huh... She’s still so harsh with me. I’ll just assume it’s proof that she cares.

“So, does this mean I get to call you Iori?” Yui asked Nagase.

“Sure, why not? A few of my classmates already do, and it makes sense.”

“Iori... Hmmm. I can’t call you by just your given name or it’d be like puttin’ you on the same level as Yui. Can’t have that.” Plus, if I went around calling a bunch of girls by their given names, I’d sound like a total player. “So instead... I think I’ll call you Iori-chan!”

“Sure, I’m cool with that!” She curled her fingers in an “okay” gesture. As usual, she was totally down to clown.

Speaking purely in terms of enthusiasm, I got the sense I was most compatible with Iori-chan... but in my view, that compatibility didn’t always translate to romantic chemistry. Maybe some people could fall in love based entirely on specific aspects of a girl, but not me. I was a “whole package” kind of guy.

“I think I’ll stick with Nagase... just for now, anyway.”

“Jeez, Taichi, you’re such a coward!” Iori-chan joked, batting her lashes at him as she shot him a puppydog look.

“Nngh... Nagase, quit looking at me like that! It’s... It’s illegal!”

Apparently this was super-effective on Taichi. Personally, I could relate. It was hitting me pretty hard, and she wasn’t even aiming for me.

“Illegally cute, you mean?”

“No! Er, well—I guess so, yeah...”

Iori-chan giggled. “Oh my god, you’re blushing !”

She’s got him right in the palm of her hand... Note to self: Iori-chan’s more than just a pretty face. She’s a force to be reckoned with!

“Ugh... God, you’re so cute, Iori! I’m all aflutter over here!”

“Yui, I thought you said you didn’t have the hots for Iori,” Inaba retorted. Well now, look at that. Even Miss Grump is using their given names just fine.

“I mean, Iori-chan’s cute and all... but Yui will always be my number one!”

“Will you quit making every conversation about me?! It’s, like, so obvious that you don’t mean a word of it! You’re so shallow, you’re a kiddie pool!”

So she says... and yet she’s clearly flustered. I know it’s working. Slow and steady wins the race!

“Just FYI, I don’t like people using my given name,” Inaba warned. “Stick to Inaba.”

Sheesh, what an ice queen. How’d you make any friends in middle school with that attitude?

“Awww, but Himeko’s so cute!” Yui complained.

“I don’t like it. End of story.”

“Yeah... Fair enough. I guess I’ll stick to Inaba... but I’m heartbroken about it!”

“Personally, I’m right at home calling you Inaba.”

“What’s with that little smile, Taichi?!” Iori-chan shouted. Then she let out a sigh. “I was really hoping we’d get to call you Hime-chan or something... Inaba just feels so formal , you know? Hmm... Inaba-chan... Ina-chan... Inaban... Ooh, I really felt that one! Yes! I’m going with Inaban!” All at once, her expression lit up.

Somehow Iori-chan exuded this... radiant optimism, so bright it was almost dazzling. But it didn’t feel quite natural—more like a spotlight instead of sunshine.

“Well, uh... sure, knock yourself out. I don’t see how adding an N at the end changes anything, but whatever.”

“Okay then, I’ll go with Inaban, too! ...Mmm, no, it doesn’t feel quite right. Inaba... Inaba-chan... Inabacchan! Perfect!”

But Inabacchan herself didn’t seem to agree.

“All you did was make my name longer . Wouldn’t it be easier to just call me Inaba?”

“Oh, calm down, Inaban ,” Iori-chan teased. “That’s not what this is about.”

Exactly! N-Now then...

“Alright, guys! Last but not least, it’s finally my turn! What’s my nickname gonna be? Go ahead and lay it on me!”

By this point the mood in the room had warmed up considerably, and everyone had gotten into the full swing of nicknaming. My hopes were high.

“...Uh, guys? Hello?”

Nothing.

“Let’s hear some suggestions! Come on!”

Zilch.

“Is the silence deafening in here, or is it just me?!” Why won’t any of them play along?!

“Ummm... What’s your given name again? Yoshifumi?” asked Iori-chan.

“Yeah!”

“Welllll ...”

“Where’d all your enthusiasm go, Iori-chan?! You were full of ideas for everyone else!”

“Honestly, I’m kinda tired of it now.”

“But we’re right at the finish line! Just one last push!”

Don’t give up now! Not when we’re so close!

“Fine, fine. I’ll take over for the last one,” said Yui.

“Yes! I couldn’t ask for anyone better to decide mine!”

It felt like we were finally building a connection. I couldn’t wait to hear what sort of nickname she would give me—

“Honestly, like, don’t you think he’s fine as just Aoki?”

“...What?” I froze. Was she saying they should just... call me by my family name? That’s it?

“Yeah, Aoki’s good enough,” Iori-chan nodded.

“W-Wait a minute! Can’t you guys put at least a little more effort into it?!”

“Calm down, Aoki,” said Taichi.

“You’re the bottom of the totem pole. Get used to it,” said Inabacchan.

“Wh-Why...? Why am I being singled out...?!”

I slumped forward onto the table and hid my face in my arms. How could they be so mean to me?

Sadly, no other important decisions were made that day. I’ll admit, even I was starting to ask myself, what’s even the point? Granted, there was nothing wrong with the members themselves.

Yaegashi Taichi seemed a bit too serious for my taste, but I liked him. He’d probably be more fun once he loosened up a bit.

Inaba Himeko was another serious type, and she didn’t seem to want to open up to us quite yet, but I could tell she was a sweetheart deep down. Despite all her complaining, she always showed up after school. And even though she wasn’t enthused about the nickname discussion, she agreed to it all the same.

Nagase Iori was cute, cheerful, and a good sport—basically perfect. I could tell why all the guys in our grade were obsessed with her. And yet... why was there this voice in the back of my mind, questioning whether she was actually having fun with us? Was I just overthinking it?

Kiriyama Yui—well, this one’s easy. She was adorable. Mega adorable. Like, she was basically in her own separate category. After all, I had a crush on her.

Honestly, when Gotou summoned us all to the staff room and told us we were gonna be in the same club, I was sure it was destiny... Okay, I was already convinced it was destiny from the moment we were assigned to the same class, but this just solidified it.

The first time I saw her in the classroom, I noticed that she looked a lot like someone I used to know. That was my first impression of her. But pretty soon after that, it was like, pow ! It struck me in the heart, right down to my core. So I guess that was my real first impression.

The shape of her face... Her long, pretty hair... Her small stature and athletic body type... I liked a lot of her physical traits, so in that sense, maybe it was love at first sight. But not in the way most people think of the term. What I fell for wasn’t just her appearance—it was something else. Something more than that.

Granted, I’m not sure why I’m so convinced about this. Not like I have it all analyzed. But whatever that feeling was, I could tell it was important. And if I managed to piece it together, I got the sense that my life would get a whole lot more interesting. Why? No idea. But I want to find out.

So here we are, stuck in the same club. Nobody’s decided what it is we’re doing, but if you turn that on its head, it kinda means we’re free to do anything, and that sounds pretty awesome. But more than that, I mean, Yui’s there... and Yui’s there... and Yui’s... Yep, ’nuff said!

But now it occurs to me... What if Yui wasn’t there? Unthinkable, I know, but hear me out. What if, hypothetically, she left the club? Would I stay?

Obviously I can’t follow Yui to the next club like some kind of stalker. But since we’re here together, I want to see it through to the end.

A big part of my motivation for staying in the Cultural Research Club is the knowledge that Yui will be there. But what if she stops coming? Will I still want to be in the club? Can we really unite under a common goal when our interests are so different?

At the end of the day, all I really care about is having fun. But “fun” is more complicated than you’d think. “Fun” doesn’t mean we all sit silently in the same room and do our own separate thing.

People always tend to conflate “fun” with “easy,” but they’re sooo wrong. In that case, can the Cultural Research Club rise to the challenge and find a group activity that’s genuinely fun?

At the rate we’re going, it looks like the answer is no.

Still...

Granted, I acknowledge that a lot of the time I end up in the “butt monkey” role, like earlier during the nickname discussion... but usually it didn’t happen... that fast. What made the Cultural Research Club so special?

Come to think of it, when the five of us first met, I felt it—I felt the pow of destiny. At first I just assumed it was ’cuz Yui was there, but looking back, maybe it was more than that. So who was I vibing with? Or was it the whole club in general?

In that case, maybe I—

—Day 8 According To Inaba Himeko—

Before I knew it, Monday had rolled around once again. And thinking back on the past week of after-school activities—if you could even call it that—I had to ask myself: What the fuck am I doing?

We hadn’t accomplished anything of value; we just sat on our asses and made small talk all week long. But holding hands and singing kumbaya doesn’t get shit done... Damn it, why am I blaming myself for this? I did nothing wrong! I could feel my frustration building.

Once again, after school I found myself in Rec Hall Room 401 with my four fellow club members—ugh, “fellow” club members? Getting real cozy with them already, aren’t we?

“Remind me again why they’re making us do this shit? Is Gotou just dicking around or what?”

“You just refuse to call him Gossan, don’tcha, Inaban?” Iori replied cheerfully, but I ignored her.

“Think about it! If we called it in, we could probably get someone fired. I can see the headlines now: Teacher Forces Students Into Club Against Their Will .”

“But it’s our fault for not committing to a real club by the deadline,” Taichi pointed out. Annoyingly enough, he had a point.

“Hmph. With a little more time, I could’ve revived the Data Processing Club. All I had to do was poach enough members from the Computer Club or somewhere... It’d be easier if you guys would just agree to see things my way.”

Unfortunately, that dream was already crushed, since last week was the deadline for club creation and/or revival.

“We’re stuck here. Just get over it already,” Yui sighed. “Then again, if he was going to pick our club for us, I kinda wish he would’ve assigned us to one that, like, already existed instead of making some random new one.”

“Y-Yui?! How could you say that?! He brought us together, man!”

“Yeah, and I wish he hadn’t! I’m miserable enough as it is just sharing a class with you! I must be cursed or something!”

We were barely a month into the first semester, and already Yui and Aoki had established a rapport. These people are WAY too comfortable with each other. I could never be like that.

“I mean, you could’ve asked him to put you somewhere else. We all had that option.”

“Why do you always have to be right about everything, Taichi?”

There I was, calling a guy by his first name like it was the most natural thing in the world. But it wasn’t natural—it was weird . To me, anyway.

“I mean, I get it. If I’d known it would turn out like this, I would’ve picked a more normal club myself,” he continued.

“Oh yeah? You can relate, huh, Taichi?” Again with the first name.

“Well, yeah, of course. Don’t we all?”

“Yeah...”

I was starting to think maybe I should wash my hands of club activities altogether. You know, find a club with a lot of other members and then accidentally forget to show up for the next three years. As it stood, I’d have a lot of trouble ghosting the Cultural Research Club, since I shared a class with half the members and saw the other half in gym. Then again, I could always just flat-out tell them I wasn’t going to show up.

What was the point of club activities, anyway? I never joined any clubs in middle school—just went straight home instead. And I would’ve done the same thing in high school too, except this time clubs were mandatory. Without that rule, I would’ve been at home right now, spending my time a lot more productively.

This club was just one big waste of my time. What was the point of getting all buddy-buddy? Not even Yui or Taichi saw any inherent value in this club. And as for Iori and Aoki, they weren’t all that preoccupied with “value” to begin with; they were only in it for the fun of it, so they’d be just as happy somewhere else.

So what was the point of this club existing at all?

Then the door opened, and in walked Gotou Ryuuzen, advisor to Class 1-C, supervisor for the Cultural Research Club, and mastermind behind this entire ordeal.

“...So, to sum it all up: things were a little hectic back when the club was first created, so I kinda skipped a few steps when I approved it, and now some folks are taking issue with the, uh, lack of detail on the forms, and they want me to outline what exactly you’ll be producing and how you plan to do it. Otherwise they’re going to disband the Cultural Research Club and move you all somewhere else.”

His tone was so casual, like it was no big deal, and I found myself desperately wanting to punch him.

“So, you guys have two options. Option #1: decide what you’re doing and how. From what they told me, all that matters is that you create something tangible. Option #2: pick a different club. Pretty straightforward, eh?”

“Wait, wait, wait. Back up. So you’re saying it’s not too late to disband the club?” I asked. For some reason I thought we were all stuck here.

“Hmm? Yeah, totally. Think of it as, y’know, temporary housing or something.”

“What, like a homeless shelter?” Yui muttered.

Seriously? Is that all this is? Here I was, thinking I needed to actually give a shit about this club he made for us without asking. Apparently not.

“Anyway, there’s your status update. Once you’ve decided, come and talk to me. But if you want to keep this club alive, you’ve only got two days to figure out what you’re doing. Make it quick.”

“Wh-What? We’ve only got two days to find a new club to join?” I asked in disbelief. I was convinced these people had to be out of their minds.

“No, no, no. If you folks can’t come up with a game plan for the Cultural Research Club in two days, then we’ll just assume you all want to be transferred to a different club. We’ll worry about that deadline later on down the line,” Gotou shrugged. “Anyway, have fun!”

And with that, he left the room.

“Hmmm... Sounds stressful,” Iori commented once he was gone.

“I know, right? Now we got two days to figure out what the heck our club’s gonna do,” Aoki agreed.

“Not necessarily,” I cut in. “First, we should ask ourselves... Do you see any reason to stay?”

Gotou had made me realize something: the five of us had all subconsciously assumed that disbanding this club was inherently a bad thing. After all, it was created expressly for us, and this engendered feelings of obligation that otherwise prevented us from quitting on the spot, to say nothing of letting the club disband altogether. Whether we liked it or not, they’d already put us down as the “Cultural Research Club” in the school system, and it would be awkward to object to it this late in the game.

But all of us were skeptical about staying. Nobody chose this. And deep down, I knew we were all questioning if we might be better off in a normal club. A club we chose of our own volition. A club that wasn’t quite so fucking pointless.

And now the barriers to quitting the club had been lifted completely. Nothing was stopping us. For the past week, we were just kind of going with the flow—but now we’d have to do more than that if we wanted to keep the Cultural Research Club alive. The “flow,” in other words, had been reversed.

Who among us would bother fighting it?

“You don’t want to stay in the Cultural Research Club, Inaban?” Iori asked weakly.

“I...” I began, but couldn’t find the words to continue.

“What about you, Taichi? Yui? Aoki?” She glanced around anxiously at the others.

“I was just kind of going along with it, to be honest,” Taichi replied. “But now that I think about it, I was never really that attached to this specific club... and a friend of mine is trying to recruit me to his club... and even my family thinks I should quit...” He trailed off vaguely.

“Same here,” Yui chimed in. “I mean, real talk, this club isn’t what I was hoping for. And like with Taichi, I’ve got other people asking me to join their clubs instead... so I’ve been thinking about why I’d want to stay in this one, and... well...” She fell silent.

“Me personally, uh... I haven’t really thought about it,” Aoki replied sheepishly. Even he didn’t have a concrete answer.

Not one of them could come up with a definitive reason to stay.

“...Gotcha,” Iori muttered in a low voice. Then she hung her head—but right at the last moment, I caught a glimpse of her expression.

A shiver ran down my spine, chilling me to the bone. Her face was perfectly blank, like a mannequin. What happened to your happy-go-lucky routine?

Yui and Aoki both stared awkwardly at the ground. The mood in the room was murderously tense; I couldn’t bear to look at them. They were all in my field of vision, but I didn’t focus on them. Instead, I intentionally chose to ignore the visual information I was receiving.

“Who here wanted to be in this club? Nobody, right?” I asked.

They looked at me.

“I mean, why make a club when you haven’t even decided what its purpose is?”

I ignored them.

“Kind of pointless, don’t you think?”

Pointless. Pointless. Pointless.

“We have absolutely nothing in common. None of us want to be here. And it’s not like we’ve already accomplished anything together, so we have no attachment to this club in particular. Right?”

After all, an organization without a common cause wasn’t much of an organization—just a random selection of people who sat in a room together. What was the point of us meeting up at all?

“My point is... why would any of us want this ‘Cultural Research Club’ to stay alive?”

There was simply no logical explanation for it.

In the end, we packed up to leave in silence. Our deadline was in just two days, and yet we didn’t even discuss whether we’d meet up again tomorrow or the day after.

Alone, I headed home for the day. At the rate we were going, we could kiss the Cultural Research Club goodbye... Not that its members were all that annoying, for the record.

Yaegashi Taichi was stupidly honest and stupidly obsessed with pro wrestling—okay, maybe he was stupid in a lot of ways—but I could appreciate his open, straightforward demeanor. Stupid people were typically pretty genuine like that. That said, I could picture him charging headfirst into trouble.

Kiriyama Yui struck me as immature, simple-minded, and a little vapid. In other words, she was another moron, and not the kind I could get along with. However, I could tell she was possessed of a pure heart and a lot of integrity. Definitely a good egg.

But Aoki Yoshifumi was the biggest dumbass of all—so laid-back, his brain has probably never put in an honest day’s work in his life. A complete simpleton. It was kind of impressive, actually.

Lastly, there was Nagase Iori. With her cheerful personality, I could see why she was popular with guys and girls alike... but every now and then, I got the sense that there was something more lurking under the surface. Like that frigid expression I’d glimpsed earlier today, for example. Perhaps we were kindred spirits... I’d need to get to know her a little better first.

In summary, none of the existing members rubbed me the wrong way. Naturally, however, this didn’t automatically translate to a reason to keep the club alive. The Cultural Research Club was an anomaly, born of a flaw in the Yamaboshi system; it was an error, and errors were meant to be corrected.

Granted, I was never one for “camaraderie” in the first place. I saw no point in getting all buddy-buddy with the randos who happened to share a class or club with me. That would only lower my guard and put me at risk. After all, who could hurt me more easily than a friend?

The answer to that question, of course, was me .

My chest felt uncomfortably heavy.

—Are you sure this loneliness is what you want?

Shut up. I’m not lonely, okay? All I want is a little distance. I don’t need friends... I just need the courage to go it alone. I don’t need other people; I just need to be strong.

Still...

It was kind of strange how natural it felt to call everyone (with the exception of Aoki) by their first names. I had to admit it—we were already on good terms with each other. And with them, I somehow fit in more easily than I ever had in my entire life. Why? How? I couldn’t begin to understand it. It made me sick. Sick to my stomach.

It was just so sickeningly warm.

...Wait, “warm”? Why would warmth make me feel sick? What’s going on with me?

The feeling was familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. All I knew was that every time I’d encountered this feeling in the past, I’d run from it at full speed. But was that really what I wanted? Maybe I—

—Day 8 According To Nagase Iori—

Alone in the clubroom—if we could even still call it that—I stared blankly up at the ceiling.

We’d barely spent any time in here, and yet it already felt like home to me. And I wasn’t just acting, either; I sincerely meant it from the bottom of my heart. At least, I was pretty sure I did. I could feel something there, and it was real, albeit faint. Even I was having trouble believing it.

I shifted my gaze from the ceiling to the recently vacated folding chairs.

Inaba Himeko was, at first glance, an unfriendly pragmatist who didn’t put much stock in social bonds... and yet I got the sense she was actually a deeply emotional person who was trying her best to keep a level head at all costs. I was curious to see what she was like beneath the mask.

Kiriyama Yui was the sweet, energetic ingénue of the group. I could appreciate a girl who was willing to wear her emotions on her sleeve; it made me want to get to know her better. Maybe she’d rub off on me.

Aoki Yoshifumi was always a blast to hang out with. At times he seemed to cross the threshold of laid-back and enter straight-up thoughtless territory—but to me, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, per se. More than that, however, something told me he was acting like this for a reason. Maybe it was part of his philosophy.

Lastly, Yaegashi Taichi was a charming guy whose biggest flaws were his brainless fanboyism and brainless honesty... but at the same time, I could sense that there was more to him than just that. I couldn’t put my finger on it. It was like a strong beacon of light that could get snuffed out at any moment.

Bottom line, they were all good people in their own unique ways, and I felt like I could stand to gain a lot from being around them. But now the one thing holding us together was gone. No one wanted to be in the Cultural Research Club—not even me. Or to put it more precisely, I didn’t have the first clue what I wanted. At all.

But although I lacked insight into my own desires, I still had feelings like any other human being. And when I was with them, it just felt right . Did I belong with them? Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. But that didn’t matter so much. They were just so interesting and fun to be around.

Were . Past tense.

I thought something was finally going to change. I thought I could feel myself slowly rising up from rock bottom. But I guess I was just imagining things.

In the end, it was all just make-believe.

—Day 9 & 10 According To Yaegashi Taichi—

The day after Gotou gave them that ultimatum, Yaegashi Taichi went with his friend Watase Shingo to visit the soccer team.

This greatly confused the older students—“I thought the recruitment period was over now... and we’re not allowed to switch clubs for another couple weeks, right?”—but after a brief explanation, they laughed and said “Sure, why not?” In fact, they even let him participate in a practice game with them.

That night, at dinner, Taichi told his family all about it.

His mother said, “You should take this opportunity to go back to baseball! But if soccer’s what you really want to do, then I won’t stop you.”

His sister said, “Do it! Soccer’s sooo much cooler than baseball nowadays! You’ll be so popular!” (She was really into soccer these days; she’d been gushing about the “hotties” on her favorite team as well as the insane salaries of those players drafted overseas.)

He hadn’t seen Kiriyama or Aoki all day. And when he spotted Nagase and Inaba in class, he greeted them with a “hey” and left it at that.

The next day was the day of the deadline. They had until the end of the day to figure out a club activity, or else the Cultural Research Club was as good as dead.

Taichi hadn’t really spoken to any of them since the last time they met up in the clubroom. Why would he? They weren’t friends with each other prior to the creation of the Cultural Research Club. They were just fellow first-years. And no one was actively trying to save the club, so it was looking like they’d soon be right back where they started.

They’d only spent a tiny bit of time together... and once they were disbanded, they’d all likely end up assigned to entirely different clubs. They’d still see each other in class and in the halls, of course, but... never again would their lives all intersect in quite the same way.

All day long, Taichi found himself preoccupied with his own thoughts.

Like Inaba said, none of them had any attachment to the club. They hadn’t spent enough time with each other to bond, nor was there any special event that brought them together as a unified group. For that matter, they didn’t even have anything in common to begin with.

Granted, they were all good people—interesting people. Taichi wasn’t opposed to hanging out with them again sometime. But that was the extent of his interest. He had no burning desire to see the club die, but then again, he wasn’t campaigning to keep it alive, either.

Then, before he knew it, school had ended for the day.

“Yaegashi! You’re sitting in with us again, right? Man, you should just try out for the team already,” called Watase.

“Haha... Yeah...” Taichi replied halfheartedly as he rose from his desk.

For a moment, he gazed at Nagase and Inaba, sitting with their backs facing him, their desks both positioned ahead of his.

Then he turned and left the classroom with Watase.

They arrived at the locker room situated in one corner of the athletic field and changed into their uniforms with the rest of the other first-years. No older students—they were assigned a different location.

At Yamaboshi High School, soccer practice was fairly rigorous, but there was no strict hierarchy between the older and younger students, so the team felt like one big, happy family. There were a lot of fellow first-years, too, so Taichi could see himself easily making some new friends.

All in all, it was a respectable choice from any angle. His family was sure to approve. Plus, unlike with the Cultural Research Club, he wouldn’t have to awkwardly try to explain himself whenever someone asked him about his after-school activities. Besides, it would be good exercise—and as a small added bonus, being on the soccer team generally boosted one’s popularity with the opposite sex as well.

Above all, however, he would only get one chance at high school, and if he wanted to make the most of it, he was better off on a sports team. It was time to put the Cultural Research Club behind him and—

Just then, Taichi felt his cell phone buzz in his pocket. His heart skipped a beat. Was someone trying to get in touch with him? No, it can’t be them, he thought to himself. After all, they hadn’t traded phone numbers or email addresses. They hadn’t gotten that far.

Wait... Who did I think was trying to contact me? Who was I hoping it was? Maybe I—

Meanwhile, his phone kept buzzing. It had to be a phone call. Which meant he needed to answer it.

He took out his phone and flipped it open. As it turned out, it actually wasn’t a phone call at all—it was an alarm he’d set in his calendar app. Onscreen, the notif read:

Deadline: Cultural Research Club

He didn’t remember setting this alarm, but he must have done it at some point after Gotou gave them the ultimatum. Clearly his past self had wanted to remind his future self—but why? Had he simply set the alarm out of obligation? Or...

Joining a proper club was the right choice—the correct choice. The sensible choice. The logical choice. The reasonable choice. The appropriate choice. The analytical choice. The obvious choice. The coherent choice. The rational choice. The wise choice. The responsible choice. The natural choice. The best choice.

Yes, it was correct in every sense.

So why did it feel like his heart was being torn in two?

The Cultural Research Club was going to disappear just ten days after it was created. That knowledge weighed on him, threatening to make his knees buckle.

He’d only spent ten days in that club, excluding weekends, and only a couple of hours per day at most. It was, comparatively speaking, a tiny fraction of time, and they hadn’t spent it doing anything of importance—just chatting. So why in the world did it feel like he was losing something so special—so precious—so irreplaceable? He just didn’t understand. He couldn’t begin to put it into words.

But in the end...

“Uh, Yaegashi? What’s wrong? Hurry up and get changed, man!”

...he knew what his heart wanted.

“Sorry, Watase... There’s something I gotta take care of.”

He wanted to see it through to the bitter end, no matter the cost.

“What?”

“I’m really sorry... I promise, I’ll explain everything later!”

He’d found a reason to care, and now he wanted to make a stand. To protect the club.

“Hey! Wait a minute—!”

But Taichi wasn’t going to wait any longer. As he said, he planned to explain it all later; for now, he sped out of the locker room.

Each step rustled the grass underfoot. Steadily, the rhythm grew faster and faster. He was following his heart—and this time he wasn’t going to take any detours.

By the time he arrived at the Rec Hall building, he was almost at a run. A thousand questions raced through his mind: Is there still time? Is it too late? Should I have told someone? What if no one’s up there? What can I possibly hope to accomplish at this stage?

But his feet kept moving, carrying him up, up, up, one stair at a time.

Think about it logically. Use common sense. What merit is there? What significance is there?

But although these chains tried to snake around him and weigh him down, they broke apart at the slightest resistance. In the end, they were no obstacle in the face of determination.

He reached the landing, then headed up the next set of stairs, two steps at a time. Then, at last, he arrived at the top—the fourth floor.

He headed down the hallway, to the room on the right. Room 401.

He opened the door.

“To think you of all people would be the last one to show up.”

It was Inaba Himeko. And she wasn’t alone.

There, sitting beside her, was Nagase Iori. And Kiriyama Yui. And Aoki Yoshifumi. All of them present and accounted for.

Aoki leapt to his feet. “Dude, I’m tellin’ ya, this is wild!” he exclaimed.

“Hahaha... We never agreed to meet up today, but... here we are, huh?” Kiriyama murmured beside him, her eyes wide in astonishment.

On her other side sat Nagase. Her smile seemed fragile—pained—but most of all, relieved. And it was so beautiful, it took Taichi’s breath away.

“What are you guys doing here, anyway?” He’d been expecting maybe one other person at the most. Certainly not all of them.

“Same reason as you, I imagine.”

“Actually, Inaba, you’re the biggest mystery of all. After everything you said the other day, why would you come back?”

She faltered, then grimaced and turned away shyly.

“Taichi! I keep telling you, you can’t just ask these questions flat-out! Have some tact!” Nagase scolded him dismally.

“Oh... Sorry...”

“I just... you know. In the end, I... you know...” Inaba scratched the back of her head, her gaze darting nervously to and fro.

“You don’t owe him an answer, Inaban,” Nagase reassured her.

For a moment, Inaba seemed to give up on finishing her statement, but then she shook her head and resigned herself to saying it out loud:

“I just... felt like it.”

Taichi burst out laughing.

“Hey! Don’t laugh!”

“No, no! I’m not laughing at you! I just... I couldn’t agree more.”

If he’d made the decision through a rational list of pros and cons, the Cultural Research Club wouldn’t have stood a chance. And while it was generally important to try to consider things rationally... sometimes the “right” choice was the one your heart wanted instead. In other words: sometimes you just felt like it . And that was the only reason you needed.

It didn’t matter what their club activity was—none of that was important. Taichi just felt like being with them. And that was the telltale sign that he’d forged real bonds here. Could true friends be chosen purely through rational analysis ? He wagered the answer was no. If you took the time to weigh the pros and cons of the friendship, then it wasn’t a friendship at all.

He knew this from experience, too. In elementary and middle school, there was no real rhyme or reason to the way he made friends—it just felt right. That’s what it always came back to. There was never any big, dramatic event that brought them together; it just sort of happened .

But that gut feeling was not to be underestimated. Those bonds could never be broken; they were stronger than logic and reasoning. As it turned out, the heart could bring anyone together, even people with nothing in common. In the end, that gut feeling was of critical importance—

But on that note, Taichi realized something important: he’d assumed they all implicitly understood this, but he hadn’t actually asked them.

“Just checking, but... are you guys fully committed to keeping this club alive, or do we still need to discuss—”

“C’mon, man,” Aoki cut in. Donning a “cool guy” persona, he ran a hand through his hair. “It’s kinda lame to ask, don’tcha think?”

Yes, Taichi was inclined to agree. But still...

“...Man, I hate it when you’re right about something.”

“Wh... How come?! Why do you hate me, Taichi?!”

“Anyways ...”

“Yui?! This is kind of important for me!”

“Oh, shut up, will you? As I was saying, we kinda need to figure something out, right? Isn’t the deadline today?”

“Oh, right! I guess that is more important than me!”

“Yeah... We need to come up with a solid plan,” Nagase murmured, her expression hard.

“Hmmm...” everyone murmured in unison.

Looking back, they’d spent a solid week trying to come up with something... to no avail.

“Actually... about that...” Inaba began hesitantly.

“What’s up, Inaban?” asked Nagase.

“You see, I, um... I mean, not that I put too much thought into it—I just randomly thought of something, is the thing. Seriously, it’s not like it was keeping me up at night.”

“Spit it out already,” Taichi muttered under his breath.

“Don’t rush me, jackass! Basically, I’ve... you know... got a suggestion for our club activity.”

“For real?! That was fast! You rock, Inaban!”

“You really wanted to save the club, didn’t y—ouch!”

Inaba smacked him over the head. Never before had a girl outright smacked him like that.

“Keep your comments to yourself, Taichi! And for the record, you’re wrong, okay?!”

“Awww, Inaban’s embarrassed! So cute!” Nagase squealed. Blushing, Inaba clenched her jaw.

“So, what’s your idea, Inaba?” asked Kiriyama.

“Put simply, we’ll create a school newspaper and publish it. The Newspaper Club is already doing this, so we know for a fact we’ll get approved. Plus, that way we can each write articles about our own personal interests. See? It’s a win-win for everybody.”

“Wha...?! That’s perfect , Inabacchan!” Aoki shouted.

Nagase clapped her hands together. “I get it! We’ll put a bunch of random stuff together and call it the Cultural Research Club Culture Bulletin! Remember our club objective? ‘A broader scope of research unfettered by existing frameworks.’ It fits!” Then she paused, frowning slightly. “You know, ‘Cultural Research Club’ is a real mouthful. Is there any way we can shorten it a bit?”

“Yeah, we should have some kind of nickname,” Kiriyama agreed.

“Hmmm... Cult-Club...? Cu-Re...?” Suddenly, Nagase looked up, her eyes shining, her ponytail bouncing with her movements. “How about an acronym? The CRC!”

The Cultural Research Club, AKA the CRC. Their club activity: publishing the Culture Bulletin .

“The CRC... That’s pretty catchy,” Inaba mused.

“You’ve got a real knack for naming stuff, huh, Iori-chan?” Aoki remarked.

“CRC... Sounds kinda cute!” Kiriyama exclaimed.

“I like it,” Taichi chimed in.

Starting today, the five of them were officially the CRC.

“Alright, guys! Now we just need to go see Gossan!” Kiriyama leapt to her feet, her folding chair clattering behind her.

But Inaba remained seated, her posture perfectly straight. “We’ll need to decide on a president and vice president, right? We’re going to have to put someone’s name on the form, at least.”

Taichi seemed to recall Gotou mentioning something along those lines. “How should we decide? Do we let people volunteer, or put it to a vote?”

“I think we should let people volunteer!” Aoki shouted, his hand raised. “But for the record, I’m not volunteering for jack!”

“No, no, no. We should do this fair and square,” said Nagase, waggling her finger disapprovingly. “Let’s play rock-paper-scissors.”

“In what way is that ‘fair’?! Rock-paper-scissors is all about luck! It’s random! ” Inaba retorted.

“Oh, relax! It’s fine ! Okay, here we go! Rock, paper, scissors!”

Everyone hastily extended their hands to join the game.

“Wait, so... do the titles go to whoever wins or whoever loses ...?”

“Oh, right, we didn’t decide that... Okay, start over!”

“You just want to start over because you lost, don’tcha?”

“Guilty as charged...”

“Alright, Iori, you’re club president.”

“Welcome to the club, Prez!”

And so the Yamaboshi High School Cultural Research Club was officially approved.