5

At some point unknown, the ending credits begin to roll.

The day after Zaimokuza’s unusually cool declaration, the promised time finally came.

In the classroom after school, I glanced over to the back of the room, by the window. The usual group was there, with Miura in the middle. Of course Yuigahama was among them.

With a deep, deeeep sigh, I steeled myself and pushed out of my desk. I must have gone for it too hard, as the chair scraped ridiculously loud. Yuigahama noticed it and looked my way. Actually, everyone still in the classroom was looking at me.

I was so embarrassed, I wanted to go right past where they were by the back windows out into the sky, diving through the glass into the grand blue. The courtyard just about turned into an ocean of red…

But it seemed I hadn’t humiliated myself for nothing, as Yuigahama heaved her bag onto her back and waved to Miura and Ebina before trotting over to me. “So let’s get going?”

“Yeah…” What a relief, for Yuigahama to come talk to me first… But that’s embarrassing in another way! Hachiman is a shy and selfish seventeen!

I was sure people were staring, so I swiftly left the classroom to shake off their eyes. Yuigahama came after me like a penguin, her indoor shoes smacking along.

I walked down the hallway, just half a step ahead of her, until eventually, we approached the same fork as the day before. Go right for the stairs, while left was the special-use building.

That was when Yuigahama tapped on my back. “What should we do today?”

“Oh, so I got a message from Zaimokuza…,” I said, pulling out my phone to check the place he’d indicated, and Yuigahama leaned in to take a peek, hopping around to emphasize that she wanted to see.

Shoo, you’re in the way and cute and annoying; stop jumping and hopping. I’m showing you now, hold on…, I thought as I held up the phone to show her. “Mm. Well, he says we’re meeting with some additional personnel here.”

“Huh.” Yuigahama peered over my shoulder at my phone, blinking a few times. Then she cocked her head, giving me a questioning look. “…Is there anyone Snowflake could invite?” she asked.

I stared far away, out the window. The sky outside was blue and clear as far as the eye could see. In the azure sky, I had a vision of Zaimokuza doing a thumbs-up, and a weathered, manly smile befitting that image rose on my face. “Let’s believe in him…”

“Was that supposed to be convincing…?” Yuigahama sounded very uneasy.

Before long, we were at the special-use building, as Zaimokuza had indicated.

Not on the fourth floor, where the Service Club room was, but on the second floor. Zaimokuza stood there in the corner imposingly, and when he noticed us, he waved. “Ohhh, over here,” he beckoned, and we approached a certain classroom.

“Wait, this is…” Yuigahama’s mouth dropped open as she stared at the door. I looked blankly at it, too, but then I suddenly remembered.

…I’ve come here before. I think it was, like, the games or pastimes something… Oh yeah, the Pastimer’s Club, right? My memories about it are vague, but I do recall it being a workshop of fun, the time we played Millionaire there.

“Let us ask them.” Zaimokuza knocked and then barged into the empty classroom without waiting for an answer. We snapped out of our daze, too, and rushed in after him.

Beyond the door were boxes, books, and packages piled high, rising in walls to make a maze. If anything, it made me think of a bibliomaniac’s study crossed with an urban toy store.

“Heeey. This is the UG Club…right?” Yuigahama asked me, tug-tugging on my sleeve.

That reminded me. Oh yeah, it was the United Gamers. I remember that.

As I was thinking this, Zaimokuza glided on ahead, disappearing off to where the books and boxes were piled up highest. Circling around them to follow him, we found two long tables, along with two boys.

When they saw us, they both pushed up their glasses. “Hi…”

“…It’s been a long time.”

Those familiar, slightly hip glasses… I failed to recall their names, and Zaimokuza gleefully started putting out folding chairs and setting tea and snacks on the table. After placing chairs for Yuigahama and me opposite the UG Club pair, he put a seat for himself on the UG Club side.

“Th-thanks…,” Yuigahama said.

The UG Club guys and Zaimokuza all mumbled “You’re welcome” as they gestured to a chair. Yuigahama quietly, almost reservedly, sat down, and I let my rear settle with a thud.

“Zaimokuza, the help you mentioned…was this?” I asked.

“Aye! Sir Hatano and Sir Sagami!” Pointing ahead with his jaw, Zaimokuza seemed quite pleased as he introduced them with an eager and desperate smile.

When the hell did you guys become friends…? Is this an arcade connection or what? Well, I don’t even have a hair’s worth of interest in Zaimokuza’s friendships, so whatever. The issue here is which is Sagami, and which is Hatano… But even staring closely at them, I couldn’t quite tell.

“Whoa, you were totally right, Master Swordsman.” The one who I’m gonna call Hatano whispered to the one I’m gonna call Sagami.

“Seriously, I thought for sure there was no way…”

Given how they whispered secretively to each other, it seemed Zaimokuza had already informed them of the circumstances. That would make things faster.

“…All right, so we’ll be having you two help us in opposing the prom, as well as planning a dummy prom in order to ensure the real one actually happens.” Setting my elbows down heavily on the table, I emphasized my enthusiasm by leaning forward an inch. So let’s work hard together!

The UG Club pair both just stared back at me. “This guy has got to be brain-dead.” Hatano was exasperated.

Sagami, on the other hand, was pitying. “He wants to make something so big just for that… Is he out of his mind…?”

And then Zaimokuza looked sincerely amused, puffing out his chest even more smugly. “Right? This is it! This is Hachiman Hikigaya! His methods are strangely inscrutable, as expected. He is a fool, a buffoon, a clowning knave! Pffft, hnerk, hnerk!”

Damn it… He’s so annoying… I thought about kicking back my chair and just walking right out of there, but Yuigahama was sitting beside me, tugging on the sleeve of my jacket, so I couldn’t.

“Hikki, you have to ask them properly…,” she said, as if she were chiding a little kid, and I was really weak to that. But it was true that we were the ones requesting help. I had to be reasonable and ask them honestly.

With a sigh, I abandoned my complaints and irritation and bowed my head. “This is gonna sound bad, but we need your help as free, basically unlimited labor. Please think of yourselves as Olympic volunteers. Roll up your sleeves and help us out.”

“That really does sound bad…”

“Even a politician would use a slightly better choice of words…”

Perhaps I’d been a bit too honest, as Hatano and Sagami both jerked back a bit.

“Ta-haa! This isn’t good!” Yuigahama waved her hands wildly in a panic as she cut in. “S-sorry! Hikki’s just like that! He just, y’know, kinda does that!” Her support wasn’t really much support, but the guys weren’t able to be harsh on Yuigahama, either, and only gave her vague, polite smiles.

And then immediately, the glasses conference began.

The glasses sitting in the middle whispered to the one beside him, “…What do we do?”

“Hmmg, I oppose it.” For some reason, Zaimokuza answered instead.

Uhhh, you do…?

Meanwhile, the glasses who had been consulted raised a lazy hand. “Ummm, I don’t want to do a prom or whatever anyway…,” he said, and the other two glasses went up and down in nods.

Hmm, I get that. I do get that. Or so I would have liked to say, but this was the one time I couldn’t back out.

Zaimokuza, of all people, the Zaimokuza, the Zaimokuza whose communication skills were even worse than mine, had reached out to his juniors, who had even made a fool out of him once. I couldn’t possibly snap this fragile connection. To reward Zaimokuza’s noble sacrifice, I had to convince them somehow… If not, then I wouldn’t be able to apologize to Zaimokuza on the other side. I would like him to rest in peace, at least.

So it was time to get serious and attempt to win them over with all my full-hearted sincerity.

Clearing my throat with a gefum, gefum, once I’d gathered their attention, I lowered my voice like it was a secret as I began, with some gravity, “…The truth is, just between us, they’ve demanded the prom organizers exercise self-restraint.”

This must have been unexpected information, as unease stirred among all three of the glasses. Zawa…zawa… I don’t know why even Zaimokuza was joining in on the zawa zawa-ing. I explained this stuff to you yesterday.

Well, whatever. Since I’m explaining things here, might as well set a little fire under this conversation. “On the other hand, that’s just self-restraint. They could shut it down… In fact, there’s about an eighty percent chance. In that case, it’s possible we’ll see something like what happened with the recent pre-prom.”

“Uh, like we said, we can just not participate…” Sagami or Hatano still tried to argue.

But I only nodded at him to show sympathy while also raising a hand to say, No, wait. “Hold on. Consider—just consider—what not participating in the prom now would mean… It’ll make it difficult to show your face at the coming-of-age ceremony or alumni events.”

At the alumni events at age thirty, the participation rate of those who never came to the post-graduation ceremony gatherings or the coming-of-age ceremony is zero percent (we call this just not showing up). Also, if you foolishly screw up your courage to go to one of these, then generally about half of the attendees are married, and some of them have children in elementary school, and it’s quite possible you will look back on your life and suffer unnecessarily (we call this blowing up). And the cost of going then will be about five thousand yen, and if you pay with a bill that features a portrait of Ichiyou Higuchi, it makes paying the bill easy (we call this a grown-up with Growing Up).

However, this didn’t change the UG Club guys’ reaction.

“Uh, it’s not like we’re going to those, either…”

That answer was about what I’d expected, so I immediately shot back, “I used to think that way, too,” then stared into the distance to channel John Lennon. “Just imagine… It’s the morning of the coming-of-age ceremony… You’re wearing the brand-new suit your father bought you when you went shopping together for the first time in years. He got it for you just the other day, saying you’d need it for when you’re doing job interviews…”

“There he goes…,” Yuigahama said in exasperation, and I held up a hand to silence her.

I stroked the collar of my jacket for dramatic effect and put a little extra feeling into my speech. “And then your mom gives you a ten-thousand-yen bill and says, You’re going drinking with everyone, right? They’re both all teary-eyed, seeing their son all grown up, coming all the way to the front door to see you off. They’re like, Have a great day, son…” I narrated descriptively, adding a mom smile at the end with a little wave.

The guys suddenly seemed unwell.

“Murg, that hurts…,” Zaimokuza groaned.

As expected of Puberty Zaimokuza. He’s a lady-killer who makes women cry—the rare kind whose tear-inducing is limited to his mother. Apparently feeling guilty, he fell silent and looked down. Sagami and Hatano must have been thinking about their parents, too, as they groaned.

And so I chose this as my moment to strike. “And then an hour later,” I said passionately, “you crush that ten-thousand-yen bill in your hand and blow the money at the arcade and on binging ice cream at Kaikatsu Club, and once your stomach’s nice and cold, you keep drinking miso soup to kill time. You sneak back home late at night. The lights should have been off, but your mother has gone to the trouble to stay awake. She asks you if you had fun, and you answer, like, W-well, it was normal. Then your mother wipes her eyes and says, …You’re all grown up already, Yoshiteru.”

“Me?! This is me?! This was about me?!”

“Sorry, Master Swordsman…” Sagami and Hatano each clapped a hand on Zaimokuza’s shoulders in a show of consolation.

Watching that out of the corner of my eye, I declared dramatically, “We must educate ourselves in order to avoid this fate—on how to use our heads to get through it. You could say the prom is the perfect place for that training.” Once I was done, the guys all sighed, ohhh.

I smirked and continued. “But if the prom is too big and loud, it’ll be too high a hurdle. So this time around, we arrange an event that’s the least of all evils… By having a prom that will be even slightly more comfortable for us, we build up our experience points.”

When I was done, the glasses trio all stuck their foreheads together and began a glasses conference.

“I feel like he has a point.”

“That bit about parents really hurt.”

“Bet he’d do a good job, too.”

“Yeah, and I hate it. If he just wasn’t…like that…”

“Hey, could you lean back a bit, Master Swordsman? Eugh.”

“That’s looking way too close.”

“So what do we do?”

“Yeah, huh…”

Yuigahama watched their whispered conversation and did not seem impressed. I could plainly see exhaustion on her face. Sorry, Yuigahama…

It seemed the glasses summit was coming to a close, as all three of them wound up thinking. Considering how they’d initially straight-up rejected the idea, it was fair to say my attempts to win them over had borne fruit.

“I wouldn’t call this a reward, but we can promise that your opinions will be reflected in the event next year and onward, and that we’ll arrange for a prom that can satisfy you. We’ll work to make it possible. So give us a hand here.” I added one more push at the end—not enough of an advantage to call a merit, but a suggestion that they would get something out of it. I gave them a bow, too.

Then, after some silence, one of them spoke with some reservation. “Um, is that okay? …Next year means when you guys will be graduating, right?”

“Yeah. So to reiterate, it’ll be next year and after that.”

I lifted my head to see one of the UG Club guys—guessing from the shape of his glasses, Sagami—give a sulky sigh. “…Then I’m on board.”

“Whoa there, seriously?”

Zaimokuza and Hatano were both startled.

Sagami frowned. “Well, I’d like to eliminate any familial shame beforehand, I guess…”

“Hmm?” His reason was a bit surprising. I tilted my head, seeking an explanation.

With some very obvious resentment, Sagami began muttering, “My big sister is the type who always butts in for these things. I could definitely see that happening next year… So then I’d like to intervene ahead of time, to eliminate that chance.”

“Hmm…” As I listened to him, thoroughly examining his expression, it suddenly hit me. Now that I was thinking about it, they really did look alike.

Beside me, I heard a soft “Ah” from Yuigahama.

“Oh, Sagami—are you her little brother?” The moment I said that, Sagami’s face twisted into an expression of the utmost distaste. Oh, now I really see the resemblance. Hmm, that sucks, having someone like that as your sister. Yeah, yeah, I get that, I get that.

“Shame to the family, huh?” I said. “I understand. My little sister is starting at this school next year, and when I think about the embarrassment she’ll feel at seeing her pathetic brother, the humiliation is unbearable. Just imagining hurting my sister’s little heart pains me…” My eyes were already tearing up.

“Oh, that’s what you’re worried about…” Yuigahama’s shoulders slumped, semi-exasperated.

Well, Komachi’s not someone you need to worry about, though! Back in middle school, she just committed to pretending she didn’t know me! Even though we both have the same cowlick!

But what an unexpected moment for Minami Sagami to become useful. If not for her, then her little brother probably wouldn’t have helped us. I am very thankful. Thankful for everything that has made our meeting possible!

So for the other glasses…, I thought, turning my attention to Hatano, who I could finally identify now.

He was taking off his glasses and polishing them with a cloth. “I honestly don’t really care…but I don’t like the idea of feeling less-than at graduation, or people pitying me because they made assumptions or whatever…so fine.”

“Really?” I’m kinda happy here.

But Hatano narrowed his eyes at me. “But can you actually manage that? A prom that’ll satisfy us, too, I mean.”

Wow, this Hatano guy—the way he talks and that edge in his eye just now had exactly the right amount of rot. I’ve got rather high hopes for him.

I was impressed, in a way, and I decided to sort of play the role of the upperclassman. “Yeah. That’s no problem. I’m sure they won’t have enough people to organize the prom anyway. Next year, you should just get together to handle it on your own. Like DIY. For that, just try groveling to Isshiki and licking her shoes,” I said with full confidence.

“Groveling…? That’s even too much for me,” said Zaimokuza.

“The shoe licking is the part that’s too much! And, like, you don’t have to go that far. I think Iroha-chan will listen to you…” Yuigahama, on the other hand, was unsurprisingly used to this. Though she was weirded out, she calmly returned to the conversation right away.

But Hatano and Sagami still aren’t fans of this, after all…, I was thinking, although it seemed it was something else that had put them off.

“Isshiki…”

“Iroha…” Both of them were muttering. They suddenly shared a look with each other, and then their heads were whipping over toward me, too. “Wait, you mean that Iroha Isshiki?”

“There aren’t any others, right?” The only Iroha Isshiki I knew was the student council president and soccer club manager, the Iroha Isshiki who was the number one cunning-cute junior. I doubted there would be another Irohasu at this school with the same first and last names.

“The worst…the very worst girl…” Hatano had his head in his hands, while Sagami was giving me an imploring look.

“Isn’t she a raging Stacey with a year-round pass to nighttime pool parties…? Like a party bimbo queen with a brand-name addiction and a boyfriend who’s the CEO of an IT company whose life revolves around Instagram engagement?”

Aw geez, that Irohasu—just what kind of girl do her classmates think she is, huh? We can’t have that. Even Yuigahama was smirking at this.

But as her senior, I should correct this for the sake of her honor. “Well, that’s mostly right, but those rumors are all lies. Her personality isn’t the greatest, but she’s a pretty good person.”

But my attempt to persuade them was to no avail, and Sagami and Hatano were both trembling. “But she treats us like garbage…”

“No, she won’t even look at us… She treats us like we’re not there…”

“She is a fearsome beast… A goblin, that creature is a little goblin…” Even Zaimokuza was quivering, repeating himself almost deliriously. No, no, she’s a little devil, okay?

“…All the more reason you have to do it. You guys just don’t know her yet,” I said with a shrug, and Yuigahama nodded. And then she smiled at me as if to say, Yeah, tell them.

So with only a hint of a smile on the corners of my lips, I puffed out my chest and spoke loud and clear to preach of her virtues, the Iroha Isshiki I knew. I hoped this would unravel the misunderstandings about her, even just a little.

“…All that horrible stuff about her? You’ll find yourself getting into it, and then before long, you’ll actually find it cute instead.”

This brought remarks of high praise from the glasses trio: “Advanced tastes…” “He has a point.” “I can get that.” I high-fived my comrades who had touched upon this door to a new truth, one after another. We were on the road to having a toast: Thinking of our firm bonds, happiness to you.

Suddenly, something cold ran up my spine.

“You’re soft on Iroha-chan, huh, Hikki?”

“Huh?”

My youkai radar cowlick was pinging, but I was too scared to face the source.

Despite all the various twists and turns, we succeeded in winning over the UG Club pair.

It was completely unknown just how much could be expected from them, but still, it was pretty big that we’d managed to acquire that unpaid labor. Their competence (or lack thereof) aside, if I could work them to the brink of death, they would surely be a great asset.

The problem was what came next.

First, we had to make a counterproposal and take it to the point of dispute. And so we began to put together our own offer to oppose Yukinoshita and the student council’s plan.

“All right, and now to begin our planning meeting…,” I said. “Ummm, the concept iiiis…one that’s bigger and more attention-grabbing than the other prom proposal…”

The air around us was heavy, and nobody followed up my remarks. The only sound was Yuigahama’s quiet clapping, which echoed in vain before eventually fading out as well.

Though I’d been the one to get things started, I hadn’t exactly come up with anything in particular. I was groping in the dark. I mean, aside from Yuigahama, no one here was even interested in a prom in the first place.

“For starters…does anyone have anything they want to do?” I asked, already thinking, Nope… As expected, zero hands went up…

Except for one Miss Gahama. “Oh! Oh! Ohhh!”

“…Yes, Miss Yuigahama?”

“A food stall! I think that’s an idea!”

“Mm, yeah.” I wrote the idea that had come up on the whiteboard without arguing it or rejecting it. The good old Tamanawa in my heart was telling me, Did you know? When you’re having a thought shower… “Anything else…?”

“Ohhh, ohhh!” Instantly raising her hand was, of course, Yuigahama.

“……Yes, Miss Yuigahama?”

“Fireworks! They’re fun to set off and fun to watch!”

“That’s an idea.” Committing myself to agreement and sympathy, I recorded her valued opinion on the whiteboard. The Orimoto in my heart was yelling, Yeah, that’s it!

“Anything else…”

“Ohhh!”

“………Yuigahama.”

“Like a campfire! That’s kinda got memories, right?!”

“…You’re just listing your memories of summer vacation, aren’t you? Well, that’s not a problem.” Though I wrote that on the whiteboard just in case, this was kind of turning into a little kid’s picture diary or something.

I gave Yuigahama a mildly weary look, and she combed at her bun and turned away. “…But when I’m trying to think about stuff I enjoyed and had fun with, that’s what I’m winding up with,” she mumbled.

That bashful blushiness was making me really embarrassed, too. As for what was embarrassing—the guys were all apparently ready to puke sugar. It was unbearable.

Clearing my throat with extra force, I moved proceedings along. “All right, so any other ideas, Hatano?”

“No, and I don’t even want a prom in the first place, okay…? What the hell are you forcing us to watch here, asshole?” Hatano grumbled under his breath.

I couldn’t hear the last part there. Remember to speak from your diaphragm, okay?

“It’s basically the sort of thing your sister would like, Sagami the younger,” I said.

“I don’t wanna think about it.” Sagami the younger immediately hung his head and shut me out. I suspect I’d said something he didn’t like.

Mm-hmm, I’m starting to tell them apart now. The one with the bad mouth and attitude is Hatano, and the one with the bad sister is young Sagami.

All right, the only one left is…, I thought, looking over to see Zaimokuza in the Gendo pose, muttering gravely, “Cosplay…is an idea.”

“Oh, like Halloween? That’d be cool!” Yuigahama chirped.

“Heh.” The strained smile on Zaimokuza’s lips was somehow sorrowful.

Hmm, I think Zaimokuza and Yuigahama have different images of “cosplay,” but that’s actually not a bad idea. I added it to the white board, just in case.

Staring at our ideas vaguely, I was getting the feeling that something was off. “…This doesn’t quite feel like it.”

In addition to Yuigahama’s various suggestions, I also added Singing, A play, and Acclamation, which had been in my Hachiman notepad, but none of these were game-winning hits. Instead, it just made me question whether we knew what a prom was about at all.

As I was internally pondering this, I heard Hatano and Sagami snickering derisively behind me. “We’re just firing random counters at the other plan. What’s the point?”

“If nobody’s doing anything, maybe you should consider why.”

“You have a point, and I hate it…” Oh yeah, now I remember. These guys are the kind of otaku who basically know how to talk and like to get snarky. But they weren’t saying anything I hadn’t vaguely realized myself, so I couldn’t even argue. Ngh…

I spun the whiteboard around to the other side to get a clean slate, starting from scratch, and folded my arms to think over it again.

“Hey, Hikki.” I turned around to see Yuigahama hesitantly raising her hand.

“Yes, Miss Yuigahama.”

“We honestly don’t know much about proms, and I don’t think we’ll be able to come up with anything better than what Yukinon and the others have been thinking.”

“…Well, true.”

“So, like, why don’t we make it a bigger event? Like, not just for us, but having a big party with everyone.” Yuigahama spread her arms wide, waving them all around in a simulacrum of a big party.

“…I see.” Yuigahama and I both sort of understood where the upper limit was, the capacity of how many we could mobilize from this school. Thus, we also knew it would be next to impossible to come up with the sort of prom plan that high school students could actualize.

Knowledge and common sense are really a nuisance: Once you understand something, you’ll wind up boxing yourself within that range. So our ideas were limited to extensions of events like cultural festivals, Christmas, Halloween, and our memories of summer vacation. Further, the original prom proposal Yukinoshita’s team had come up with was already pretty exciting. If you went even further than that, you’d wind up with something really out there.

“…We need a different approach,” I said.

When you’re running around and around in mental circles, it’s best to go back to the beginning.

In this case, we’d return the focus of attention to why we were putting together this plan in the first place. Going up against Yukinoshita had been one of the reasons, but not the goal. The goal was the actualization of the prom, and the elimination of those who would obstruct it.

In other words, the real enemy here was the parents.

I wrote Anti-parents on the whiteboard and rapped it with a knuckle. “This is it. We should think about how we can best be discovered by some of the parents, and then how we can get them to stop us.”

So instead of putting too much work into the content of the event, which more or less was already there, we’d shift gears to how we could easily up the sense of scale. And the simplest way to scale it up would be the power of numbers. Yuigahama’s suggestion of involving other schools was a good one.

After a bit of consideration, I wrote on the whiteboard, marker squeaking, Joint prom event with Chiba Kaihin area elementary/middle/high schools.

Zaimokuza tilted his head with a hmm. “Can you do something like that?”

“Nope,” I answered instantly.

“Huhhh…,” Zaimokuza replied with confusion.

I wagged a finger at him and chuckled smugly. “At this point, whether we can do it isn’t the issue. The important thing is making them think we’re on course to do it.”

The proposal couldn’t be too outlandish. The crucial part was giving them a sense of its realism.

So we had to mix in the truth—or facts that seemed very much like the truth.

“For now, we make some ‘inquiries’ to nearby schools,” I continued. “By showing them evidence of a fait accompli, we get the parents worried about it.”

Whether we would make it happen was irrelevant. We’d just say we’re “making inquiries” or “checking in” to keep from promising anything while still planting the idea. It’s the same as with anime proposals. Even if they talk about it, that won’t necessarily make it happen. There are shows out there that get announced but then are never made at all, you know! The anime industry truly is strewn with carnage.

“Assuming I’ll tell Komachi soon enough, if there’s anyone else…” And then it hit me. I don’t have anyone else I could call a connection…

When I was folding my arms and hmming, Yuigahama waved a hand to make a suggestion. “How about Kaihin? We did lots of stuff together before, so maybe it’ll be easy to talk to them.”

“Conversing with them is so hard, though… But we do have a track record with them, so points for realism.” It was extremely difficult to have a constructive discussion with Tamanawa, the president of their student council, but it wasn’t like we were actually going to make this prom happen. We just had to pretend, and the fact that we’d had talks would be enough. Thinking about it that way, Tamanawa from Kaihin was the optimal choice, in a sense. He had a reputation for holding meetings that might appear smooth and legitimate but accomplished absolutely nothing.

“…What do we do about the rest? …Do we try talking to…our old middle schools?” Sagami said, clearly averse to the idea.

Hatano was openly sickened. “Yikes… No thank you…”

Zaimokuza, meanwhile, committed to feigning utter ignorance of the conversation. Hmm, I understand the feeling! And so I will decide not to go.

“There’s no need to actually go, for that stuff,” I said. “It’s enough for Kaihin to be the only school we actually engage with. For the rest, we just borrow their names.”

“Borrow their names? This stuff again…” Yuigahama’s gaze sharpened a bit.

I reworded myself with a wry smile. “I shouldn’t have put it like that… We just bring up their names as candidates for negotiation. Then we don’t go any further, but the possibility remains that we could approach the other schools to negotiate. It’s enough if we can make them assume that.”

The aim of this dummy prom was for the parents to see it as a problem, which would give us the opportunity for the pros and cons of the other prom to be weighed. When that happened, if we could give them the impression that the dummy side was out of control, while Yukinoshita’s side was the controllable one, they would be forced to give Yukinoshita’s plan their passive support.

As I was talking, Sagami’s expression turned serious. “So that information…is going online, then?”

“Yeah, I think that’ll be the best, in terms of cost efficiency.”

The prom had gotten complaints to begin with because of posting on social media. That was a guarantee that they were checking the Internet. For the dummy prom, there was no need for it to be widely known by the student body. If we could just ensure it was exposed to those particular fussy parents, it would actually mean less promotion labor than the real prom. Depending on how things went, we might have to think up a way to leak it to the parents, though… But whatever the case, it should be fine to cross that bridge when we came to it.

Right now, we had to hash out the basics.

“First, we make social media accounts and a website…and a group name,” I said as I wrote on the white board Name suggestions ♡. Yuigahama and the UG Club were all like, What’s up with the heart…?

Uh, no real reason…

Zaimokuza was the only one unfazed, rubbing his chin and tilting his head. “Hermm, so then like a production committee?”

“Yeah, something like that. We obviously can’t call ourselves the student council, too. We either think up something fake that sounds good, or we borrow the name of an organization like the student council and parasite off them…”

The quickest way to make this dummy prom seem real would be to get a thumbs-up from a trusted organization. Since we couldn’t operate as the student council, I wanted to find some organization with a similar appeal and pin them as our backing organization, or underwriter.

“Something besides the student council… Oh, like the club captains’ association,” Yuigahama said with a clap of her hands.

Hatano gave her a skeptical look. “Do they have some kind of authority?”

“Huh?” Yuigahama’s face went blank, and then she said innocently, “Uh, I dunno, but…but they seem kinda important.”

“…They do.” Hatano’s lips twitched, but he didn’t argue and dejectedly backed down.

Well done, Yuigahama, I thought as I watched the exchange and tried to follow that line of logic. “The captains’ association isn’t satisfied with how the prom is going, so they’re independently considering a joint send-off party among all the clubs… Blow up the scale, and it’s functionally a prom.”

“Ohhh, I didn’t know they were thinking about that.” Yuigahama seemed impressed as she reached out for the snacks.

“Oh, not like I know,” I replied nonchalantly.

“Huh?” Yuigahama clearly didn’t get it.

Meanwhile, there was someone else who apparently did. “Ohhh, that’s what he means by realism. This guy tells some wild lies…”

“Well, it’s logical, so it seems plausible as a motive.” Hatano and Sagami were half disturbed, half exasperated, and they were whispering to each other (“He’s got to be an idiot,” “There’s something wrong with his sense of ethics,” etc.).

Beside them, Zaimokuza was nodding. “Indeed…”

“This is ultimately just about what sort of setup will increase believability for the people who see it. I’ll run this by the captains’ association separately, so that won’t be a problem.”

The captains’ association was there so they could help each other and regulate all the clubs…or maybe not, I dunno, but that’s what I’d assume, from the name. If we could convince parents that the captains’ association would be the body holding the prom, that would be enough.

Writing out this big pack of lies on the board, I encouraged myself: I’ll do my best to wrap this up!

“Well then, I think it’ll work. Who’s the most important person in the captains’ association?” I asked, spinning around.

Yuigahama answered instantly. “Hayato.”

“………Oh… I’ll try talking to him tomorrow.”

I’d kinda seen it coming… Actually, I might’ve heard something to that effect before, but the fact that I had to negotiate with Hayama was a real downer. Hayama, huh…? Can’t we have a coup d’état and put Totsuka in charge…?

“Um, I get the concept for the plan, but the content is still really vague. We won’t have a proposal to send off anywhere in the end, will we?” And just as my heart was getting heavy, Hatano hit me while I was down. Painful.

But we had to do what we had to do. “…The content is… Well, I’ll whip up something on my end that looks legit. For now, could I have you guys make the website and social media accounts? Like something sleek.”

“Aye, leave the social media to me! I’ll copy-paste some of the foolish drivel from Twitter or Instagram!” Zaimokuza reacted instantly with aggressive enthusiasm.

Hatano glowered at him. “Whoa, he got the easy job.”

“It’s not a big deal… Please give us a bit of time for research,” Sagami said, then immediately flicked on his tablet and began a discussion with Hatano.

“…If we’re making it, then HTML?”

“Can’t we just choose a template from a builder?”

“Let’s look for some free software.”

“But what do we do about the domain and sever?”

“I dunno. Let’s just Google it.”

Whoa, these guys might be better than I thought… Their first thought really is to search stuff themselves when they don’t know. They’re pretty highly conscious otaku. Hatano had a decent perspective on things, and Sagami was the conscientious type, unlike his older sister. Perhaps he’s learned from his older sibling’s bad example? Ohhh, I feel that.

Oh, no, I’m definitely not saying Zaimokuza’s the useless one here, though. I think he’ll try hard. In fact, I’m nothing but thankful…, I thought as I regarded Zaimokuza, when it suddenly hit me. “Oh, I know. Zaimokuza, do you have a digital camera?”

“That I do. I thought it would be cool for me to have one, so I bought one in the past.”

I get that. You think a photography hobby would be so cool and dream about buying a camera, but then when you do, you never actually touch it and use your phone for everything!

“Bring it tomorrow,” I said. “It’ll be helpful to have a real camera when we’re producing material for the website.”

“So be it. You could also read the introductory book I bought. It’s like new!”

I get that, too. You buy how-to books, then you never read them…

Well, if I was using it for photography, then I’d give it a look just for reference. I clapped a hand on Zaimokuza’s shoulder.

Having assigned work to the three of them, I was starting to think of what my job would be when Yuigahama jabbed at my shoulder. “What about me?”

“You…can be the art director.”

“That’s kinda cool!”

She was so delighted, it was kinda contagious. “Yeah, supervise them with your special sense of style. Give the site design a sparkly, froofy, brain-dead sort of feel.”

“Wagh! Wording!” Yuigahama whined, but after a bit of pouting, she got over it and tilted her head. “What are you gonna do, Hikki?”

“I’ll throw together a rough proposal and design for this thing. For now, I’ll dig up some material and make the written proposal to submit,” I said, quickly putting together my things. It was good that we’d requisitioned the UG Club room as our headquarters, but I didn’t have free access to a computer here, and it was inconvenient to do research.

I stood up, and beside me, Yuigahama got ready to go home, too. When I eyed her suspiciously, like, Why is she trying to leave…? she slung her backpack over her shoulder with a final heave and proudly chuckled at me.

“If you’re thinking up the proposal and the design, then you need to have an art director. Right?”

“…Yeah.” My expression relaxed, and I nodded.

I swept my gaze over the room. Zaimokuza was busy collecting information from social media, while Sagami and Hatano were loudly talking over each other, discussing the direction for the work. Hmm, yeah. I can leave it to them.

“…Then we’ll see you guys,” I said quietly, with a sense of guilt about leaving before them.

“Thanks! See you tomorrow!” Yuigahama called, and we both left the clubroom.

When we came out into the hallway, Yuigahama, walking beside me, asked, “Where are we gonna work?”

“Where there’s an environment for working… A net café, I guess.”

“Can you watch DVDs there?”

“Yeah, you can borrow players. They’ve got Blu-rays, too. And all-you-can-eat ice cream,” I said.

“Oh. Then let’s go!” Yuigahama pattered off quickly, and I hurried after her to keep from falling behind.

After leaving the school, we first stopped by the video rental store at the station. As I hung around skimming the anime shelves, Yuigahama efficiently went to go rent the item she was after. Then we went straight to the net café. We managed the process fairly smoothly, at least up until that point.

However, we met an unexpected stumbling block.

“…What kind of seat do we get?” Yuigahama asked.

“Well, um, u-uh-huh…”

At the reception desk of the net café, we’d repeated this same exchange about three times already. The clerk at the counter kept smiling the whole time, but after about two minutes of this, unsurprisingly, their smile was starting to turn cold.

“Well, I’ll be on the computer, so the reclining one…” I gently offered my opinion, pointing to the explanation on the seating chart, and Yuigahama nodded.

“Uh-huh. But if you’re gonna be writing the proposal and thinking up site design, wouldn’t it be nice to do it while watching movies?” The photo Yuigahama pointed to included not only a computer but also a TV. Being able to work while watching that would be convenient.

“But we kinda need Office on the computer…” You can’t go without writing software if you’re going to be typing something up. A simple text editor would be fine, but nothing beats stuff like Word or PowerPoint if you’re drafting a proposal.

Yuigahama’s shoulders slumped. “Ohhh.”

I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. And then, the saint at the reception desk, who had not complained once during this whole exchange, smiled brightly and said, “We also have pair seating that includes Office.”

Yuigahama thanked them with a smile for such incredible service. “Oh, really? Thank you very much… So?”

She was asking me directly, and I knew now this was checkmate. Resign.

“Th-then, the pair room…” My trembling finger indicated a room with seats on the floor.

With a smile that was almost warmer than the heating, the staff briskly put through our order and escorted us to the seats. The embarrassment was making me sweat buckets under my coat.

It wasn’t like I was against the pair seat or anything. It was just too much for me. I had no idea how I should behave in that small space.

Once we were actually in the four-meter-square booth, that didn’t change, and with my drink in hand, I struggled to figure out where to sit.

“I was poking around some prom-ish stuff, too, just in case.” Yuigahama, who went in first, set up the DVD she’d borrowed and clicked the Play button.

For my own part, I selected a position as far to the edge as possible to boot up the computer and start typing. While I was writing up the rough draft for the proposal, I watched the video playing out of the corner of my eye, and whenever I saw things I was curious about or seemed promising, I noted it.

When the show approached the prom scene, Yuigahama tapped on my shoulder to let me know. “Our school doesn’t have a building like this. It’s, like, a sort of dance hall? Oh, but the one we saw before, they did it outside.”

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be in any particular building. Or, like, if you’ve got multiple schools coming together or whatever, then would it be more realistic to have a location not specific to any one school?” I said, noting down the idea.

Yuigahama seemed impressed and nodded like Ohhh, yeah. “That makes sense. Oh, like Destiny Land or something!”

“We definitely don’t have the budget.”

“I know that, but…I just wanted to try saying it.” Yuigahama pouted and turned away, bringing the hot chocolate in her hands to her lips.

It was kinda cute, and my hands paused over the keyboard as I let a smile slip. “Well, though it’s true that is pretty Chiba.”

“I feel like most people would say it’s pretty Tokyo.”

“It belongs to Chiba.”

“So stubborn!” Yuigahama said, covering her mouth with her hand as she laughed.

We were talking at a quieter volume than usual, the place being what it was, and it lent the chat an air of intimacy despite the topic. The space was dim, with dividers around us, so we could see each other a bit better than usual.

Instead of a cushion, Yuigahama squeezed a whole balled-up blanket in her lap. “Hmm, so then Ryugujo Spa Hotel Mikazuki!”

“That’s pretty damn Chiba. But not very prom.”

“That’s not true. I went a long time ago, with my family…,” Yuigahama said, picking up her phone. She must have been looking for a photo, as she flicked with her fingers for a while before she seemed to eventually find it. With a hup, she slid out of her seat and came over to me.

“Here!” She was pointing to a selfie. The app showed Yuigahama wearing a T-shirt and doing a peace sign. In the background was a poolside at nighttime, with sparkling lasers and neon lights. And then, while unfortunately the picture was slightly cut off, I could also see Yuigaha-mama in a swimsuit, reclining in a poolside chair. Gaha-mama, so youthful… Great genes.

Oh, uh, that’s not the important part. The pool, right. The focus here was the pool, with the super-fancy, glamorous setup that reminded me of a concert or something.

I focused on the pool in the background again. “The heck is this pool? This is racy… This is a night pool party… The kind where stuff happens…”

“Wha…? It’s not racy!” Yuigahama blushed bright red and whacked my leg with the balled-up blanket. Then she swiped madly at her phone to immediately come up with a Ryugujo-related website to show me. “Look!”

The official site did indeed carry a wholesome vibe, and the word I’d use for it was more like beautiful or dreamy. “Well, that’s more realistic, budget-wise… Wait, they don’t just do this in summer?”

“Hmm, apparently.” Yuigahama nodded, showing me her phone again.

Peering at it, I saw it said 365 days a year. Whoa, Ryugujo… Now I kinda want to go.

“But it’s kind of far. I want to take pictures, so nearby would be better,” I said.

Remembering, I opened up the file for the proposal I’d started writing. Considering the website design, I wanted an impressive image in there somewhere, but selecting a location would take time, so I’d been putting it off.

Yuigahama considered the matter with a hmm that was interrupted by a yawn. “Photos, huh? …Oh, what about the beach?”

“A beach? Where?”

“The one right by the school.”

“That’s Tokyo Bay…” That’s not even, like, Chiba Bay… A resort area or a nighttime photo of an industrial district were one thing, but there was nothing photogenic about the normal ocean in winter.

But Yuigahama didn’t see it that way. She bumped my shoulder with hers grumpily, then explained slowly, like she was trying to make me get it. “That’s fine. Or, like, it’s good because it’s that beach. You can see it from our school, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So in the evenings, the sun always sets into the sea… It’s so pretty. It makes you think of all the fun you had that day,” she said dreamily, closing her eyes.

She didn’t mention when or where, but regardless, I thought she had to be talking about that sunset. That room, filled with sun for the briefest moment, right before it disappeared into the distant ocean.

It was nothing at all special—just the ordinary view of the sunset that we’d seen so many times. It had become so common for us, I don’t even remember what we said those times, and I’ve forgotten what kind of books I was reading then, but I can vaguely envision that idle time in the twilight.

“So…,” she whispered, almost trailing off, and the weight I felt against my shoulder became more definite. “I wish…those kinds of days could go on forever…” She murmured so quietly, I could barely hear her voice.

After enough time had passed that the words had melted into the air, I nodded. “…Yeah.”

Maybe that had been too long a pause to call this a conversation; I got no answer. Instead, I heard the peaceful breathing of slumber. There was a soft pressure on my shoulder.

The movie had already reached the climax.

The end credits would play soon. Even if I wanted to rewind, I’d only been half paying attention, so I didn’t know where to go back to.

Should I keep watching until the end?

Or should I start over from the beginning?

Or should I keep pretending I hadn’t been watching at all?

I didn’t have the time to wonder, as the ending credits began to roll.