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Chapter 7 - 34

There was the click of a cup being set down on the saucer.

"Well then, it seems we already have source material for those

locations," said Yukinoshita.

"Yep!" Isshiki answered as she put away her phone. It seemed she

intended to use the photos from our expedition for the free

magazine. Or so Isshiki explained, and though I don't know how

Yukinoshita and Yuigahama took that, I was freed from their icy

stares.

"So then Iroha-chan will be in charge of this," Yuigahama said,

making a circle on the notepad.

We'd decided on the content. Now for the division of labor. It wasn't

just assigning pages; we also needed to pick roles.

Yukinoshita summed up what was written on the notepad. "I'll

handle page composition, schedule management, and design.

Yuigahama, you handle interviewing the clubs and editorial stuff."

"Roger!" Yuigahama answered with energy.

Yukinoshita nodded back at her, then glanced over at me. "And

Hikigaya…"

"I'll be the cameraman."

Taking photos of the clubs meant I could legally take pictures of

Totsuka. I was totally raring to go, like, Leave the camera work to me,

snap-snap-snap, but Yukinoshita's response was a merciless one.

"Writing, interviews, photography, planning, production,

proofreading, client relations, accounting, and miscellaneous tasks."

That's a lot of responsibility…and things that seem irrelevant! I

made sure she knew I was disgruntled.

Yukinoshita shot me a nasty look. "Problem?"

Not a specific one. I have a problem with everything, I was thinking,

when Yuigahama tap-tapped on Yukinoshita's shoulder.

"H-hey now, Yukinon. Look, he's already handled the data collection

on those locations…," she mediated.

Yukinoshita didn't seem quite happy, but she let out a little sigh and

flipped her hair. "…Fine. Page | 137

"…Roger."

As I nodded, I also went Capisce! with a sideways peace sign to

acknowledge—in my head. Well, it would be fastest for me to handle

the wordsmithery. It'd take us longer to proofread if Yuigahama or

Isshiki wrote it, and I feel like Yukinoshita would be too formal in her

writing.

With each of our roles decided, we were ready to get started. Isshiki

timidly raised her hand. "Ummm, what should I do?"

"You're editor-in-chief, of course," Yukinoshita answered instantly.

"Ohhh…that sounds real cool." Yuigahama gave a smattering of

applause as to celebrate.

Well, Isshiki had been the one to come up with this, so it was

reasonable for her to have the job with the most responsibility.

However, it seemed the one in question didn't know about that last

part, and she was tilting her head to the side. "What should the

editor-in-chief do?"

Yukinoshita sighed in resignation. "Yes… First, get permission to

publish information and photos of these businesses."

"Right! I'll go check!" Isshiki exclaimed. Morale was high, it seemed.

Yukinoshita added, "And secure a channel for distribution. Have you

already decided where they will be handed out?"

"In front of the student council room, and, like, in front of the

teachers' room and places with high foot traffic?"

"Then go get permission to use those."

"Right! I'm going to tell Miss Hiratsuka."

"And if I could ask you to make copies of this on your way back?" Page | 138

Isshiki accepted the notepad from Yukinoshita and clasped it tight to

her chest, then saluted us, palm out. "Right! Understood! …Wait, are

you just sending me on odd jobs?" Her shoulders slumped.

Ahhh, busted.

"General supervision and permissions, negotiation with outside

parties, the final check, and appropriate support are all your job,"

Yukinoshita explained.

Isshiki sounded like she was impressed, then stood up. "Theeen I'll

go tell Miss Hiratsuka!"

"Thank you."

As Isshiki was passing by me in order to leave the clubroom, she

grabbed me by the sleeve. "Let's go."

"Uh, go by yourself…"

"If you're with me, you can be like a lightning rod—whoops, I mean

lead to lightning-fast ideas, right?! And you're reliable!"

You didn't have to correct yourself… But as she said, I do have a

reputation for being a lightning rod. If my presence would make the

conversation go smoothly, then I would just pop over there and get it

done with.

"Guess I'll go, then." Slipping out of her grasp on my sleeve, I left my

chair.

Then there was some scraping of chairs as Yuigahama stood. "Oh,

then I'll go, too!"

"Agh… If we're to explain the materials, it would be best for me to

go, wouldn't it?" Yukinoshita sighed, then quietly got up from her

own chair.

"Okay! Let's all go together!" Yuigahama grabbed hold of both

Yukinoshita's and Isshiki's arms, then briskly headed for the door. Page | 139

Hmm, body heat seems like a good defense for the cold hallway…

Well, if all three of them were coming, I could probably just stand

there and do nothing. Following the girls, I left the clubroom behind.

Upon entering the teachers' room, I headed straight for Miss

Hiratsuka's desk.

Among the rows of desks, I discovered her sitting at one that was

particularly messy. She was in front of her computer, clattering away

on the keyboard as she occasionally drew soba out from the take-out

bowl at her side.

Eating again, huh…? "Miss Hiratsuka."

"Hmm? Ohhh, it's you, Hikigaya. Why's everyone here?"

"We wanted to ask about something…"

"Hmm? Mmm." Miss Hiratsuka glanced over at the bowl, then

paused as if considering a bit.

"We won't mind if you keep eating," Yukinoshita told her.

"Oh? Sorry." Miss Hiratsuka gave an apologetic laugh, then picked up

the bowl. Spinning her chair around to turn her profile to us, she

took her chopsticks in hand. After slurping up some soba, she

prompted us to continue. "So then what were you asking about?"

"We were thinking about making a free magazine," said Isshiki.

Surprised, Miss Hiratsuka dubiously parroted, "A free magazine?"

Isshiki began to explain the plan to publish it. With Yukinoshita

supplementing where necessary, we showed the teacher the

summary, the pamphlet, and the estimate. Page | 140

"We've already gotten a quote," Yukinoshita explained, "and it's

possible to get this within the budget. As for the content, we've put a

general plan together. It's still rough, though."

"Hmm." While occasionally slurping on her soba, Miss Hiratsuka

examined the materials with interest. After flipping through the

papers, she seemed to get the gist and raised her head again. "Well,

you're totally free to do it… But couldn't you do it on straw paper,

using a mimeograph?"

Yuigahama tilted her head. "Straw paper?"

"What? Mimeograph?" Isshiki gave Miss Hiratsuka an unconvinced

look—actually, it was just downright rude.

This girl has a serious attitude problem…

In normal circumstances, this was Miss Hiratsuka's cue to offer

educational guidance, but it seemed she didn't have the energy. "Oh,

you've never heard of those…," she muttered weakly, breaking into

this worn, bitter, somehow self-deprecating smile.

"I've heard of them, but I've never seen them in real life…,"

Yukinoshita admitted apologetically, as if finishing her off.

"Of course…," Miss Hiratsuka answered, voice trembling slightly.

It was inevitable, seeing how advancements in machinery and paper

improved by the day. And hey, a mimeograph? Even at her age, I

doubted she's seen the real thing… Uh, though I obviously didn't

know her age.

And then said thirtyish woman of unknown age slumped over,

cradling her bowl. "Well, just give it a shot," she muttered and

offered nothing more as she sadly began to slurp her now soggy

soba… Page | 141

Now that we had received permission from Miss Hiratsuka, finally,

we began the actual work.

I borrowed another laptop so that we could all deal with the tasks

allotted to us, and I began typing up what we needed.

That was when Yukinoshita ambled over to me. "Hikigaya, do you

have a moment?"

"Uh-huh," I replied, and she sat down diagonally across from me,

spreading out the transmittal form. The transmittal form is, simply

put, a summary listing the composition of each page and the

assigned editor.

Yukinoshita tapped one corner of the draft. "The problem is what to

do with the cover page."

"Wouldn't it be easiest just to avoid the problem with a simple

design or photo?"

"Or a picture with a caption and something like a logo or a border

around it?"

"Yeah, I figure it just has to look like we got inspo from Time or

Forbes."

"Yes, I think making an obvious homage might make it more

aesthetic."

"And that'll shave off some time."

As we were talking, I felt eyes on us from a distance. Isshiki was

looking at us with an expression of pure horror. "I have no idea what

you two are talking about…"

"Yeah? Me neither!" Yuigahama admitted, leaning over her desk.

She seemed almost glad to have company…? The two buddies were

right in the middle of making a form to request comments from the

clubs. We had our own discussion to move along. Page | 142

Yukinoshita was making notes in the layout draft when her hand

paused, and she brought her pen to smoosh into her cheek. "So

that's our design direction. The question is the subject matter."

"We can just go with a photo of Isshiki. She's the president, after all."

I jabbed my thumb in the direction of the girl in question.

Isshiki waved her hands wildly. "Huh? You mean, like, gravure?

Swimsuits are off the table for me."

"Who cares… And hey, we never asked you to do that." Just what

else is off the table for her…?

I could see she was playing up her coy act to seem purer. When you

get to my level, you stop believing in terms like the girl next door, or

amateur, or magic mirror.

"…Oh, really?" Isshiki must have been offended, as her voice was

weirdly cold, and there was a sharpness to the flash in her narrowed

eyes. She pulled her lips in a tight downward V, putting her hand to

her chest as she considered awhile. Eventually, she got this nasty

smirk like she'd had an idea, then did an about-face. "Okaaay then,

who are you asking to do it? Ohhh, Yui?"

"H-hey! I—I can't do that! No way! Absolutely no way!" With Isshiki

yanking her, Yuigahama pitched forward, and her skin peeked out

from her loose collar, emphasizing her chest. I felt myself

magnetically drawn to it, but with force of will, I tore my eyes away.

I won't give in! I can't give in to temptation!

I somehow managed to lift my gaze, but then our eyes met.

Yuigahama's cheeks were bright red, and she hugged her shoulders

as if hiding her body. "Ah, I mean…th-that stuff is too embarrassing…

There's no way… People seeing me like that would be too much…"

She paused between words, turning her face away. She was red to

the neck. Once she was done talking, she flicked me this little

questioning glance, and her eyes seemed hot, too. Page | 143

Frankly, I feel like a certain sector would very much enjoy seeing her

on the cover, but I don't think I'd find that situation pleasant. I mean,

look, she doesn't want to do it, all right? "Uh, I wouldn't… Like, I'd

never do…something like that."

"R-really? …Oh, good." Yuigahama seemed relieved, her shoulders

relaxing. I let go of some tension as well, letting out a deep sigh.

Once Yuigahama had calmed down, I hit on the reason the

conversation had gone in this direction. "And wait, gravure doesn't

mean swimsuit photography. I think, like, printing a page of photos?

Or something like that is called gravure."

Right? Miss Yukipedia? I turned to Yukinoshita. She'd been fiddling

with her ribbon tie this whole time, but when my eyes met with hers,

she jerked her gaze away. Then she retied her ribbon. "…"

I heard a faint sigh. I wish she would stop going silent at moments

like these…

"Anyway, a normal uniform photo is fine. Okay, next. Yukinoshita,

what do we do about the back cover?" I changed the topic, and

Yukinoshita narrowed her eyes at me for just a second. It seemed

that despite her lack of reply, she did basically intend to listen.

I just went on ahead. "Will we put ads in? Like for mysterious prayer

beads, or speed-reading techniques, or exercise machines, or health

goods," I said, irresponsibly imagining pictures of Zaimokuza in a

bathtub full of cash.

Finally, Yukinoshita spoke up. "It's not realistic to start searching for

places that would advertise with us this late. If we're going to

continue publishing this in the future, then it would be fine to look

into it, but it's not feasible this time, at least. Since we don't have

material, we should fill the space with written content," she said

dispassionately, eyes still on the layout. Page | 144

I considered a bit. "Something like a column, or an editor's note?

…Well, I'll handle that stuff."

"Yes, please do," Yukinoshita replied briefly, and then as usual, she

began carrying out her task without looking at me. The scratching of

her ballpoint pen was particularly loud.

Dear me, is she still bothered by that earlier conversation…? It's not

like there's anything to worry about…

It's okay! There's still hope! Genetically speaking, of course!

I was tasked with writing and taking photos, which was the job I'd

asked for. That meant I needed to interview the clubs. There wasn't

much time, so we were splitting into two groups for the job: me and

Isshiki, then Yuigahama and Yukinoshita. If you took an average of

our communication and academic skills, then, well, it was a fair way

to divide us up. We went for the boys' clubs, while Yukinoshita and

Yuigahama would be mainly interviewing the girls' clubs.

Our first subject for interview was, of course…the tennis club!

Yuigahama had handled making the appointment beforehand, so

Isshiki and I just went down to the tennis court, where the cold

winds whistled by.

"Your receive is slow! You can try a little harder!" The cute voice that

rang across the court was that of the tennis club captain, Totsuka.

Racket over one shoulder and the other hand on his waist, he was

pushing the younger members. It seemed Mr. Captain was now good

and used to the job.

When we came up to the side of the court, Totsuka noticed us and

waved a hand as he came trotting over. "Hachiman! And Isshiki!

Hello." Page | 145

"Sorry for bothering you." Matching Isshiki as she gave an extra-

polite bow, I also gave a wave in greeting.

"Oh, no, it's totally fine! Um, you were going to take pictures? Go

ahead anytime." Totsuka gave a little shake of his head, then spread

his arms and spun around, gesturing to the tennis court. Then he

turned his head to me and smiled.

Yep, I'd say I'm all ready!

"Then let's get right to it…," I said.

Totsuka with his arms spread was cute, so that was the first shot. I

raised the camera and snapped the shutter. Then Totsuka seemed

confused, so one more. Then he tilted his head cutely, so I took

another. And then as I was raising the camera again to get a photo of

Totsuka's curious expression, he started to talk to me.

"Umm…weren't you taking pictures of practice?"

"That too. But first, this," I declared—quite boldly, openly, and

emphatically, for me.

Totsuka seemed overwhelmed by the force of my remark, as he

faltered slightly. "O-oh…I'm a little embarrassed… Hmm…"

Shy about having his picture taken, he put his hands to his face to

hide his blushing, looking indecisive, but then he glanced over to the

tennis court. "But if new students see this, they might join the

club…"

"Yeah, the new students might read this to get information," I said.

Yuigahama had told him about the aim of this free magazine when

she had made the appointment. This would also be a good

opportunity for the clubs to get exposure.

Totsuka lifted his head resolutely. "I-I'll do my best…" Then he

clenched a little fist in front of his chest to get himself fired up. Page | 146

"O-okay then…let's do our best." It was good that I'd managed to win

over Totsuka, but despite my own words, I was feeling like I'd used

smooth talk to lure him into a photo shoot. Why do I feel so guilty…?

No, wait. This feeling isn't guilt… It's the feeling of corruption! This is

actually getting me more motivated, in a way!

"Okay, let me keep snapping these photos."

"Yeah!" he answered with spirit, and I raised the camera.

"This time, try holding up the racket."

"O-okay."

I got a shot of Totsuka swinging the racket from a low angle, then a

dynamic shot of him taking a step forward, and then when he lost his

balance, I captured him in my finder again. A perfect shot!

I got all the photos of Totsuka in motion I wanted, and the photo

session moved on to the next stage.

"Okay, try hugging the racket next."

"Uh-huh… Huh?" Totsuka cocked his head in puzzlement but

nevertheless squeezed the racket tight to his chest. I got a photo

burst, hot shots, and then even a panorama shot. As an option, we

added a towel. Nice, nice, let's get a little bolder, I thought while

enthusiastically snapping photos.

Off to the side, Isshiki was quite severely disturbed. "Isn't that

enough…?"

"Is it? Well, I guess."

"It is." She nodded emphatically.

Indeed, she had a point. "You're right—that's enough for the racket.

Okay, then let's go without the racket."

"What?" Isshiki froze on the spot. Page | 147

But I ignored her, peering through the finder as I planned out the

next stage of the shoot. "You all right, Totsuka?"

"…Yeah." His response was a little dispirited. Maybe he was getting

worn-out.

It was kind of like when my cat got tired of all the attention. In other

words, Totsuka is just that cute!

Under my instructions, Totsuka put the racket at his feet and sat

down, hugging his knees. I took shots from different angles, from the

front to the left diagonal. I had him make various poses, alternating

looking at the camera and away. For shots where he was looking at

the camera, I got him both smiling and showing ennui.

"H-Hachiman…are we done?" Totsuka asked, his smile strained and

voice stuttering.

"O-oh, yeah…" It did seem he was a bit fatigued. What should I do…?

I thought, and it hit me. "Let's break for a bit."

"There's more…?" His shoulders slumped.

Mm-hmm, it seems my decision to take a break was not mistaken

after all. As I was making camera adjustments to prepare for the

second half, checking the photos I'd taken so far, I had a terrible

realization.

"Isshiki," I called out to her.

She must already have gotten sick of dealing with me, as she was

standing quite a ways apart from us, watching from a distance. She

dragged herself over to me like this was a huge pain. "What is it?"

"You don't have any extra memory cards? We're out of space."

"How many photos have you taken…?"

"I've actually deleted the extras, you know…" Page | 148

Isshiki sighed. Then she grabbed a fistful of my blazer sleeve and

began dragging me away.

"That's enough! Totsuka, thank you for your time," she called out.

Totsuka stopped cradling his knees, snapping his head up to smile at

us. "Oh, okay. I should thank you guys, really."

I would very much have liked to capture that smile in a photo, but

Isshiki was yanking me away, so I would not get my hot shot or my

photo burst. And so, to capture it in the photo album of my mind, I

captured one last shot in my heart. Page | 149 Page | 150

With Isshiki pulling me along by the sleeve, we headed for the soccer

club.

Their practice was out on the sports field right beside the tennis

court, so it wasn't much of a trip. Good thing, because I wasn't much

of a fan of their club.

I figured I'd just take two or three easy photos and go, but Isshiki was

not letting that happen.

"Oh, right around there, please center Hayama in your shot. Oh, right

now, go!" Tap-tapping on my shoulder, she gave me minute

instructions on exactly when to take pictures. And then when I was

done, she checked over the photos. "Show me, please… Oh, Tobe

wound up in this one. Delete!" she announced, erasing the photo

and shoving the camera back at me.

Well, whatever, if it's just Tobe… Nobody will care whether he

makes it in.

This sort of thing went on for quite some time, which meant we

didn't make much progress.

"Hey, haven't we done enough?" I said. "There's no more space…"

"And whose fault is that?" Isshiki puffed up her cheeks as she glared

at me out of the corner of her eye. I didn't really have a good

comeback. In the end, I was forced to take photos the whole time,

until the scrimmage was over.

When they were finally done with their practice game, Hayama

walked over to us. Page | 151

"Hayamaaaa!" Isshiki called, waving, and he casually waved back in

response.

"I did hear the broad strokes from Yui. She says you're making a free

magazine? I see you're doing whatever people ask of you again."

Though he wore a charming smile, there was a flicker of exasperation

in his voice.

"Like I've said," I told him, "that's just what the job is. And I don't

wanna hear that from someone who left his club early to get

interviewed. Sorry for bothering you."

"That's a weird way to thank me." Hayama shrugged and smiled,

then turned his face toward the courtyard. "You must be cold. Why

don't we do the interview over there?"

"Ah, good idea."

The courtyard piloti area was enclosed by the school building, so the

wind couldn't get in. With a beaming smile, Isshiki took the lead,

heading for a spot that looked good. Right beside the vending

machine was a bench, though a simple one. Isshiki sat down, patting

the spot beside herself to beckon Hayama. So calculated…

I let Hayama go on ahead while I bought a can of black coffee and

some black tea at the vending machine. Juggling the scorching cans, I

stood opposite from Hayama.

"You just have to say whatever sounds good. You're good at that,

aren't you?" I asked, tossing the coffee at Hayama.

Catching it, he looked at the can with surprise, but then he let out a

little whiff of a sigh and chuckled wryly. "Are you being sarcastic?"

"That was totally a compliment. Whatever. Thanks for taking us up

on this." Page | 152

"…Well, I'll do my best to meet your expectations," Hayama said,

breaking into a broad smile. Then he lightly raised one hand to me

and turned back to Isshiki.

"Well then, let's get this interview started!" Isshiki activated the

audio recorder on her phone, and I set down the tea beside her, then

backed up about two steps and raised the camera to get a shot.

The Hayama beyond my finder was, as I'd known he would be, the

same Hayato Hayama everyone knew—but he seemed a little

different from the boy who had just been joking with a wry smile.

We finished Hayama's interview and photography session, following

which we went around to a number of clubs, and then the

interviewing and photography for the clubs we were supposed to be

handling was done. I'd managed to get a photo of Hayama doing that

gesture like he was spinning a pottery wheel, so when it came to the

ratio of usable footage, it should be good.

Yuigahama and Yukinoshita had been mostly handling the girls' clubs

and would be done soon, by this time. Then the only picture left to

take would be of Iroha Isshiki, who would decorate the cover of the

free magazine.

At the request of the model for this shoot, we would do it in the

library.

We circled from the courtyard around to the front entrance,

swapped into our indoor shoes, and passed in front of the teachers'

room to head to the library.

Once it got a little late after school, there were hardly any students

using the library, and it was peaceful.

"So why here…?" I asked Isshiki's back. Page | 153

She was doing a full lap of the space, walking around searching for

the best photo spot. When I asked that question, she spun around to

face me.

"Makes me seem more intellectual, right?"

"And what you just said makes you seem less intellectual…"

"It's fine. I only need the image." She stuck her nose in the air, then

started walking again, pausing many times.

She seemed to finally reach a decision and sat down at an available

table with a bookshelf behind her. Then she took out a compact

mirror and began cheerfully checking her looks.

The tall bookshelf towered over her protectively, the dark colors of

the book spines casting her in sharp relief. Perhaps so people could

read comfortably, the library was bright, even close to nighttime,

giving Isshiki's pale skin a warm glow.

Being an amateur, I couldn't really delve into further detail, but still,

Isshiki had created the picture-perfect image. As expected of Iroha

Isshiki—I guess this means she knows how to make herself look

attractive.

"Okay. Let me take a few," I said to her, and instead of a reply, she

posed herself with her chin in her hand, elbow on the desk.

Her puppy-dog eyes examined me invitingly, emphasizing her dewy

pupils and long eyelashes, and the little proud smile on her lips had a

lingering innocence, despite the alluring pink of her soft lips.

Though I was properly pointing the lens at her, I'd forgotten to click

the shutter. I heard someone clear their throat and shook myself out

of it.

After I snapped a few photos, I lowered the camera. And then, while

checking over the data I'd just taken, to cover how I'd been zoning

out, I said, "You're used to being photographed, huh…?" Page | 154

Isshiki was right in the middle of looking in the mirror, considering

various options as she attempted a new pose. She tilted her head at

her reflection. "You think? Isn't it normal to take pictures all the

time?"

"Not all the time." I think trips, events, and special times are the

kinds of things to commemorate, and we do that with pictures. At

the very least, that's what I've been taught.

But Isshiki was saying something completely different. She snapped

her compact mirror shut and glanced over at me, and though my

camera was not pointed at her, she had on a soft smile. "But

memories are important, right?"

That was normal to Iroha Isshiki.

She said she made no distinction between the mundane and the

extraordinary, and that even the same old sights of nothing new or

special were precious memories to be embraced.

"…Yeah."

With only that brief reply, I once again raised the camera, thinking…

All right, is this photo a memory of the mundane, or a record of the

extraordinary?

A few days had passed since we'd assembled most of the material

and commenced production. We were making progress on the club

introductions and the hot spot guides, and the interview article was

mostly done. The design work was also going smoothly, filling up

pages from the cover onward.

The articles would be just about done, after some adjustments like

adding in minor captions and massaging the headlines. And the

comments from the captains were mostly there with some minor

text corrections. Page | 155

It was going well. Or it should have been.

I'd done a neat job with the club introduction text, the articles on the

recommended spots, the audio tape transcription of the interviews,

and the translation of those in Isshiki-speak. We had gotten the clubs

to check over the photos we'd taken. And even with the cover, when

Isshiki had said she wanted it photoshopped, I had safely settled the

matter with some soothing and coaxing.

But. But, for some reason, my writing was still not done.

"How did this happen…?"

Was it because I had been taking this seriously? It's true I'd been

hard at work. I had not only done the writing of the regular article

page, I had also helped out Yukinoshita, and I had gone to prompt

the UG Club for comments in Yuigahama's stead.

I'd spent these past few days diligently and busily, for me. Perhaps

that was why…so occupied in the flurry, I had carelessly forgotten

other work…

We had two days until the deadline! I still had the whole column to

do.

As I was holding my head in my hands in despair, Isshiki, standing

beside me, poured some tea out of a plastic bottle and offered it to

me. "Here you go. Good luck," she said, putting the plastic bottle

away in the mini fridge under the desk. She sat herself down

diagonally across from me.

The tea was different from usual, the desk was different from usual,

the chair was different from usual. And the room was a different one

from usual, too.

I was presently being confined to the student council room, where,

under surveillance, I was to write the column. The heater in the Page | 156

clubroom still wasn't fixed yet, so Isshiki had very kindly offered the

student council room to be my personal prison.

I glanced out the window and saw it was already evening. Even if I

wanted to know the exact time, my cell phone had been confiscated,

so there was no way for me to know. When I swept my gaze across

the student council room, the table clock pointed to a cruel number.

I had not taken one step out of here since I'd been brought to this

room immediately after school. The reason was: The deadline was

the next day.

Waughhh, this is bad… I haven't written anything… I can't imagine

making this in time…

I just typed away on the keyboard to get the words down, but I

wasn't satisfied with them and erased them halfway. I kept doing it

over and over. Oh man, ohhhh man. I'm not gonna make it at this

raaaate!

Seeing me flail in panic at my desk, Isshiki leaned away in disgust.

Her expression seemed to want to say, Eugh… She was giving little

shakes of her head, but then she seemed to notice something with a

jolt, and she fished around in her blazer pocket.

"You've got a call," she said, taking my cell phone out of her pocket

to hold it out to me.

But when a phone call comes to you when you're right before a

deadline, there's no way it can be anything good. I mean, if you can

force something to exist, anime would never need recap episodes,

and the postponement of on-sale dates due to authors' personal

circumstances wouldn't be a thing.

So when you get a call at a time like this, it's best to check who it is,

then ignore it.

"…From who? Editorial?" I asked. Page | 157

Isshiki sighed in exasperation. "If Editorial is the first thing out of

your mouth, you must be stressed, huh…? Um… Ah, it says Mom. Is

that your mom?"

"…From Editorial's mom? …Their whole family is gonna come

monitor me?"

"No? Why would that happen? It's from your mom, probably."

"Oh. I'll call her back later, so you can just leave it."

"Uh-huh, is that right?" With that short reply, Isshiki tucked my

phone back into her pocket. And then she flipped through a bunch of

papers probably related to the closing of the accounts, checking

through them and occasionally stamping.

With her doing work beside me, I started to feel like I had to work,

too… Left with no choice, I began clacking away on the keyboard.

More time passed.

It was already dark outside the window, and eventually, it would be

time to go home. Isshiki must have finished her task at some point,

as I couldn't hear stamping anymore. When I glanced over at her, she

was on her phone.

Maybe I'm good for the day, too… There's still tomorrow, after all.

If I can work harder tomorrow than I did today, I could finish it…

As soon as that hit me, my focus immediately evaporated.

"It's no use. I can't write anymore today. You can't write anything

good if you rush it. I have no choice but to go take a break, go home,

and sleep," I declared loudly.

Lifting her face from her phone, Isshiki looked at me. She let out a

sigh of exasperation, but the look on her face was kind. "Agh, welll, I

guess it's fine." Page | 158

"Right? It's fine for it to be just a bit late." I think they call it a writer's

high or something. The excess pre-deadline stress, the exhaustion of

continuous work, and this mysterious feeling of elation caused by

escaping from reality left me laughing, "Na-ha-ha!"

Isshiki's face stiffened. "…Huh? You're not gonna make it?"

"W-well, who knows…"

The column was in fact just a few thousand characters, and if I

worked hard that day and the next, it wasn't as if managing it was

impossible. Well, given how I'd failed to write even a few hundred

characters over the past few hours, it seemed unlikely.

I hesitated to speak honestly about this. As for why—because even

before I'd explained anything, Isshiki was holding her head in her

hands.

"That's not good… Not good at all… Ummm, that's really bad, isn't

it?" Facedown on the desk, Isshiki moaned, then slowly looked over

to me, her eyes a little dewy. She was muttering quietly to herself.

"The funds…the early discount…additional fees…over budget…the

year's balance…"

From her reaction, I understood. When doing up the budget, Isshiki

had assumed we would make it in time for that discount plan she'd

mentioned, and she'd already written it down on the annual

accounting report form.

Of course, I'd assume it was possible to make adjustments to that

report.

This situation had been brought about because a certain Something-

man Something-gaya had arrogantly taken on this project and

started talking big about how he would manage somehow in a few

days, then put off the column he'd brought up himself by saying

"Yeah, I can dash it off real quick. Easy." Getting cocky never ends

well… Page | 159

"…Th-this is bad, huh…? Uh-huh. I-I'll put in a bit more effort, okay?"

I said.

"Y-you will? Please do…" Isshiki's eyes glimmered as she looked up at

me. There was none of her usual cunning there, and I could see

through to her honest self, more childish than normal.

If she's gonna show me that, then I have no choice but to do it, even

if I have to force myself…

There lies the deadline I absolutely cannot fail to make.

To tell the truth, I just can't. Sorry for saying this out of the blue. But

it's the truth.

In a few hours, a very ordinary bell will ring.

That will be the signal for the deadline.

An editor with a small chest will come, so watch out.

Following which, after a brief few moments, the end will come.

I was zoning out.

I'd psyched myself up by saying I absolutely could not, would not fail

to make this deadline—but the next day after school, I was yet again

borrowing the use of student council space, locked alone in the room

by myself until I finished the job. The after-school writing session

from the day prior felt like a distant dream.

Despite having gotten a second wind the day before and tried for a

while, just like Chiyonofuji in the sumo ring when he was at the limits

of his strength, I had burned out and gone home. After getting home,

I'd made a tiny bit more progress, and then during class, I'd written

some more on my phone, but I still couldn't see the end. Page | 160

And now I was looking out the window of the empty student council

room, gazing up at the setting sun. Of course, I was making no

progress on the draft.

Oh crap… The clack-clack was not coming from the keyboard, but

from my bones as they trembled in fear.

That was when a knock came on the door of the student council

room.

"How are things going, Hikki?" Yuigahama asking, clipping through

the door. It seemed she'd come to check on my progress.

"…M-my conservative guess? About seventy percent."

"Oh, that's great!"

"…Left to do," I added quietly, and Yuigahama let out a tiny cry.

Same, Yuigahama. I'm screwed…

As I was hanging my head, Yuigahama approached my desk and

planted a hand on my shoulder. "Let's do our best! It's okay—you'll

make it in time! I'll work here with you, too!"

That just means she's going to be monitoring me…

Normally, I would refuse to work under surveillance, but the

situation was what it was. I had to keep the pressure up, or I was

bound to drop the ball. I mean, if this were a part-time job, I'd be

flaking out, but being monitored by Isshiki the day before and then

Yuigahama that day, too, I'd have to do it. There's a thing called

temper for steel and men…

Finding my motivation once more, I faced the draft. I brought the

cursor to my current spot so I could write from where I'd left off. And

then, when I managed to wring out a few lines more, despair came

to assault me yet again. Every time I looked at the blank space of the

draft, I was made aware of how few characters I'd written, compared

with the time that had progressed. Page | 161

In one day, I had only made 20 percent progress. Filling up the

remaining 80 percent in a few more hours was physically impossible;

if I could make it now, then the laws of the universe meant nothing!

Wagh… As I was overcome by reality, I heard a clattering sound

beside me that was different from my own typing. When I happened

to look over, I saw Yuigahama sitting there, tapping into a calculator

with a ballpoint pen in one hand.

"…What're you doing?" I asked her.

Sticking her red pen behind her ear, she turned to me. "Hmm? Um,

adding up all the expenses. Since when I looked at it, it seemed a

little rough."

"Isshiki's pretty sloppy with the bookkeeping…"

"Ahhh, yeah… Well, me and Yukinon will make sure to handle that

stuff!" she said with a forced smile. It was somehow big sisterly—it

seemed she was trying to do her part to take care of Isshiki, her

junior.

The problem was that said cute junior often spelled trouble. I mean,

like, her whole thing with coming to the clubroom was already pretty

bad…

However, this is just how work is.

There's one big liar, and work comes from the process of making

their big lie a reality. Out in the adult world, you call those big liars

producers. In that sense, maybe you could say Isshiki was producer

material. So then in terms of this whole affair, Yukinoshita was the

director, and Yuigahama was the assistant director, I guess. And with

this job, as always, I'd be the miserable, low-ranking, subcontracted

corporate cog. Page | 162

To perform my labor, as befit a menial worker, I once again faced my

computer. But I just kept writing a few lines and then erasing them

over and over, and I couldn't manage to make solid progress.

Eventually, I was spending more and more time gazing out the

window at the sunset, or at the clock, rather than looking at the

computer screen.

The passage of time alone is enough to press the spirit to the limit.

And with the exhaustion of sitting at the computer for a long time,

before I knew it, I was letting out a deep sigh.

"Are you okay, Hikki?" Yuigahama must have heard my big sigh, as

she rose from her seat and came up a few steps to stand beside me,

examining my face with concern.

Her face was so close that if I reached out, I could just about touch it.

She was near enough that I could practically hear her breathe. The

proximity and eye contact made me embarrassed, and thoughtlessly,

I pretended to gulp and turned my head away.

"It doesn't look okay, schedule-wise…," I muttered to cover my

embarrassment, when suddenly, a weight came down on my

shoulder.

"If you don't make it, then we cross that bridge when we get there."

When I turned just my head around to look back at her, I found

Yuigahama's small hand gently sitting on my shoulder. Her thin

fingers clenched into a fist, grabbing the fabric of my blazer. "I'll

apologize with you, and I think Iroha-chan will understand, too. It

was kinda too much to begin with."

"Well, it's true, but…," I said, twisting around in an attempt to escape

her hand, but it wouldn't move away. Eventually, she began to tap,

tap away on my shoulder in small motions. Page | 163

"It's not like it's your fault. If we abandon this now, nobody's gonna

blame us. It's not like it's something we absolutely have to do,

anyway."

Her remark was a little surprising. Yuigahama had never expressed

negativity toward any of the requests the Service Club had accepted

before.

Confused, I turned my whole body without thinking and saw a weak

little smile on her face. "…I don't think I want you to have a hard

time, Hikki."

"That's such an unfair thing to say."

For a comment that just popped out of my mouth, my tone was

gentle enough that even I could tell. You could even call it weak and

listless. If she was going to say that in such a calm voice while tapping

on my shoulder, of course my shoulders would relax.

But it also built a tension in me.

I'm not yet so detached that I could back down now after a

wonderful girl said that to me. The very offer of such kind and sweet

words was why I could not rely on them or let myself off the hook. So

no matter how stupid this whole project was, even if this had been

an unreasonable ask, I couldn't leave it now.

"I guess it is unfair…" Yuigahama's hand stopped. It just gently lay on

my shoulder, then eventually slowly lowered.

"Ah, I mean, that was just, like, a figure of speech." It's a bit rude to

accuse ill of someone who was showing concern for you. I turned

around in my chair, properly facing Yuigahama with my whole body.

And then, despite my fluster, I struggled to find the appropriate way

to express this. Page | 164

But Yuigahama didn't wait, giving a big nod. "…Yeah, maybe I am

being unfair!" she said in a bright voice with a smile, as if I'd

somehow won her over.

I really couldn't figure out what that reaction meant. To

communicate my intentions as precisely as possible, I said, "I didn't

mean it like that. It's, like, actually in a good way, I mean…"

She gave a little shake of her head to cut me off. "I think I really am

unfair… It's always like, I can't really stop you, and I can't really help

you. And, well…everything else." Maybe she was thinking aloud,

because she faltered frequently. But I think that just meant the

words came from somewhere deep within. It's like when people

speak vaguely with a shy smile or look away—there were feelings

she was trying to cover up.

Nevertheless, she was looking straight at me this time.

"So… So that's why… Next time this sort of thing happens, I'll be

better."

In her earnest expression and the words she delivered slowly, there

was an empty vagueness that grounded me in reality. Eventually,

anyone will do it right. You have to. Though you don't know how or

what, or if you can do it. I'm sure anyone will be thinking something

along those lines.

Of course, I'm no exception there. That was why first, for the time

being, I had to do the thing in front of me. I turned my chair around

and faced the computer once more.

"It's fine. I'm always just doing my own thing. You're not at fault for

not stopping me. I mean, like, it's my fault for being the one who

makes promises without thinking them through. So, well…I'll try to

figure it out somehow."

"…Okay… Then let's do our best!" she said with cheer and gave my

back an energetic push. Page | 165

Ahhh, nooo! I wanna go home! I don't care! I don't care about the

draft submission or the revisions or completion! I've had enough of

being hounded by deadlines and being locked up to work! I'm

quitting work and this draft!

"Wahhh!" I landed facedown on the desk. I was currently alone in

the student council room, so I could scream to my heart's content.

I'd handed Yuigahama a printout of my work in progress and had her

give it to Yukinoshita for me. After that, my focus had completely

broken.

Well, I had somehow, some way, brought it to the 80 percent point.

With that added motivation I'd gotten from Yuigahama, I think I'd

tried pretty hard, for me.

However, the remaining 20 percent just wouldn't come out. I leaned

into the back of my chair and looked up at the ceiling. Ahhh, I wish

the Illuminati would come down on me… I would like to be

permanently banished from ever working again…!

I believe focus is not continuous, but something that comes in short

bursts. That's why pulling a couple of all-nighters is not going to push

your progress ahead dramatically, and systematic progress on a

regular basis is important. But there's no point in coming to that

realization right before the deadline, huh? It's just like before exams,

seriously.

Still staring up at the ceiling, I was zoning out like my batteries were

drained when there came a knocking on the door of the student

council room. Lacking the energy to answer, I just looked in that

direction, but despite my lack of reply, the visitor entered.

"Are you done?" Addressing me was Yukinoshita, her bag flung over

her shoulder. Page | 166

"…If I were, I'd have told you."

"True," she said as if that made sense to her, and then she ambled

up to me and pulled out some papers from her bag, marked up in red

ink. "The printouts I just received. Right here, this is a sentence

fragment that's missing the back half."

"O-okay."

I accepted the pages from her, and as I skimmed over them, a

number of errors caught my eye, including the missing sentence. As I

applied her corrections to my draft, I continued to feel a presence

beside me. "…Did you have some business?"

"Oh, no…it's not enough to call business," Yukinoshita said, sounding

a little rattled, folding her hands behind her before stepping away to

pull out a chair beside me. She rummaged through her bag a

moment, soon found a file folder, and pulled it out to begin some

task.

It seemed she was going to work here while monitoring me. Her

presence meant there was really no time before the deadline.

She didn't have to put pressure on me. I understood just fine how

bad this was.

Once I was done applying the corrections from the printouts she'd

given me, I scrolled down the screen to finish off the remaining 20

percent.

It was only a few hundred characters left.

If I just wrote that much, then I'd fill the space, at least.

Although that would make up the difference, if the column was

shoddy, the one to get the heat for it would be the editor-in-chief,

Isshiki. I couldn't accept this task so casually, then act like I didn't

give a damn if she got bashed. Page | 167

Ultimately, I was forced to make a completed product of a certain

level of quality. Or rather, if I wrote junk, then I'd get hit with

corrections from our editor, Yukinoshita, and then also from the

editor-in-chief, Isshiki. Rather than getting hounded by their

revisions, it would be faster to put serious effort into writing from

the start.

Mustering up my final dregs of energy, I kept on typing at the

keyboard. One minute, then two minutes passed on the time display

under the screen as I filled line after line of white.

Eventually, my hands came to a stop, and they moved no more after

that. The words slipped out of me, my voice utterly drained without

my noticing. "…I'm done."

"Oh, really?" Hearing me, Yukinoshita sounded glad as she started to

stand.

I raised a hand to stop her, pitching straight forward to slump my

face on the desk. "No. I'm done for. I can't do it. It's no use. I can't

think of anything. Not a single character will come out…"

"That's what you meant…" With an exasperated sigh, Yukinoshita sat

back down in her chair. "That's a problem. We have no more time,

you know?"

"Yeah, I do get that, but still…"

I understood it horribly well. But my head would just not work, no

matter what. My brain had low motivation to work in the first place,

so this seemed out of my control. Just as a wrung rag won't let out a

single drop of water, not one more word would come out of me.

I leaned all the way back in my chair and looked up at the ceiling. I

was all out of options…

My hands, curled up in front of the keyboard, would not move, but

neither would they leave the keyboard. My body faced up to the Page | 168

ceiling, just like the corpse of a bug. I'm an insect…an incompetent

louse that can't even make it on time for a deadline. Starting

tomorrow, I will go by Insect Hachiman. And then I will chuck my

human card into the ocean…

As I was staring up at the ceiling, my mind lost and abandoned,

Yukinoshita slid into my field of view. Looking down at me, she

seemed somehow unsettled. "…Here," she said, and she dropped

something wrapped in a handkerchief on my chest.

Raising my head and picking up the bundle, I found it was slightly

warm. When I opened up the handkerchief with cute cat footprints,

a MAX Coffee emerged from within. It seemed she had made a basic

effort to keep it warm.

Seeing this, I let a smile slip.

"Go clear your head. This isn't something that will somehow work

out if you just keep staring at the screen. It's best to take a bit of a

break," she advised, turning her face away, before returning to sit in

her chair and resuming her task.

"Thanks…" I decided to accept the gift with gratitude. After opening

the tab, I zoned out while sipping the coffee and gazed at her profile.

Yukinoshita's hands never stopped all the while. She never said a

word; the only sound was the scratch of her red pen running over

paper. I felt like I was hearing that sound an unusual number of

times.

"…Is it that bad?" I asked.

"Huh?" She turned to face me. Then her gaze dropped to the paper

in her hands. It seemed she understood what I was trying to say. She

waved her red pen, then touched it to her lips as she said, "…Yes, but

it's just things like typos and kanji errors. There's nothing

horrendous, so don't worry. In fact, I'd say the other two had more Page | 169

errors." Yukinoshita giggled, as if it were a joke. She looked rather

more innocent than usual, and it felt appropriate to her age.

"I mean, you've kind of been penning in a lot of red, so it made me a

little anxious."

"Oh, yes, I just forgot to mention we're adding phonetics to the

difficult kanji, so I'm putting it in directly myself. Just while I'm doing

the revisions."

"Sorry for giving you more work."

I hadn't meant anything in saying that, but Yukinoshita's hand

stopped, and she set her red pen down on the desk. Her shoulders

slumped despondently. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I should

have made sure to confirm your progress, and I should have known

even you would make mistakes."

"Uh, naw, really, this was just me underestimating how long it would

take. And wait, the heck? Is that super-high-level sarcasm…?" I

asked.

She smiled and gave a little shake of her head. "Yes, but…I mean I

was also underestimating the situation."

So she really was being sarcastic…

Regardless, it was clear that both of us had made errors in judgment.

We had still not reached an understanding when it came to me, to

her, or about ourselves. It was just like this moment of indeterminate

day and night, when the colors of the twilight reached across the sky

out the window, and by the time you think you've figured it out, the

moment has passed, and the colors are changing again.

"I'm the one who's done the least," she muttered, looking vaguely

out at the glow of the sunset.

"It's enough. Neither I nor Yuigahama are any good at keeping a

schedule or project management. And Isshiki is decent at talking big Page | 170

and balancing the books, but she isn't the type who can keep a

project moving systematically…," I answered as I gazed out at the

same sunset.

But she and I probably saw different colors. Was hers red, pink,

scarlet, crimson, burgundy? Or was it orange? I wouldn't really mind

no matter what shade it was.

"Well, so…you've been fairly helpful." Pulling my eyes from the

window, I returned my attention to the student council room.

The sunlight streaming in cast crimson over the room. When I turned

to Yukinoshita, sitting beside me, her head was downcast, and I

couldn't tell what was on her face. But her ears and neck, peeking

out from under her hair, were also that same color.

"…I…hope so." That little murmur seemed lacking in confidence,

almost sulking, after a short sigh.

But that was only for an instant. She immediately lifted her face,

sweeping her hair off her shoulders to say in her usual commanding

tone, "I'll make some adjustments on the back end to buy you time."

"Ah? O-okay… Wait, you can do that?" I asked, but she didn't

answer.

Instead, she started dialing some number on her cell phone.

"…Yuigahama? There's been a change of plans. If it's not completed

on time, then send in the text that's done and submit, inserting

dummy text for the final portion, and then we'll revise it in the

proofread. That's all. Can you also tell that to Isshiki? …Yes, thank

you." She hung up, then gave me a look that seemed to be

confirming, Were you listening?

"…Is that okay?" I asked.

"This is ultimately only an emergency measure in the event we fail to

make it in time. I have included the costs of the extra revisions in the Page | 171

budget, just in case, so there's no problem there. If that happens, I'm

afraid of not being able to do the final proofread anymore…but

there's no way around that, this time," Yukinoshita said with a smile.

She'd even planned out, as a last resort, a little grace period in the

schedule, on the off chance something unexpected occurred.

Good grief, after all that ragging on me for being soft, who is it

being soft this time?

Well, I can't deny that I am, in fact, soft myself. However, even if I'm

easy on myself, the flexibility will sometimes make me snap back in

the opposite direction. So her being so forgiving with me made me

want to turn down her kindness.

Tossing back the remainder of my coffee, I slammed it down on the

table. The clash of the steel can on the steel desk made a clang.

"I'll finish it," I declared, and I faced the computer once more.

"…All right. Then do your best," she said quietly and briefly, but it

was enough to reach my ears.

Maybe it was thanks to the break, or maybe it was thanks to the

sugar content of the MAX Coffee reaching my brain, but my hands

never stopped on the keys.

As I wrote on without looking at the clock, I never even noticed

Yuigahama and Isshiki coming into the student council room. The

three girls all sat down in a cluster at a diagonal from me, just staring

at me without speaking, waiting anxiously for me to finish writing.

I-it's hard to write like this…

Nevertheless, I put one sentence after another, then finished it off

with a line to tie it together at the end. I pressed the Enter key then,

but my hands refused to leave the keyboard right away. I just ran my Page | 172

eyes over that one line countless times, making sure to myself that I

had no more words in me, until my heart understood that finally, I

had reached completion.

"Now I'm finally done…"

The strength left my body all at once, and I leaned into the back of

the chair, letting my arms dangle.

When I heaved a sigh of relief, Yukinoshita came to the seat next to

me. "Do you mind if I look?"

"…Sure." I pushed the laptop over to her, and she immediately began

checking it.

Yuigahama and Isshiki watched with tense expressions. I, however,

had not much tension at all. Why? Because now I'm free! Deadline?

What deadline?! Fwa-ha-ha! I'm free! Suppressing the desire to

shriek, I waited for her to finish reading.

And then, after some time passed, she looked up from the computer.

"…No issues. Isshiki, your turn."

"R-roger!" Next, Isshiki began the final check. But if it had gone

through Yukinoshita's approval, it was probably fine.

And with this, my work was done. Maaan, a world without deadlines

is the best!

As the feeling of release filled my brain with a drunken haze,

Yuigahama and Yukinoshita spoke to me.

"Hikki, thanks."

"…Nice work."

"Yeah, thanks, guys. Sorry it was late." Oh, good gracious, I was

experiencing such a feeling of euphoria, I'd accidentally let myself

believe I'd accomplished this on my own, but this time, if not for the Page | 173

others observing me, I would probably definitely have bailed before

I'd finished.

When you take that into consideration, you might in fact say it was

their presence monitoring me that was causing me to experience this

current elation.

…So that means, in other words, that editors and deadlines are like a

dangerous drug. They should absolutely be outlawed. Say no to

deadlines.

"I've checked it. No problems," Isshiki said as she slammed the

laptop shut.

Yukinoshita nodded back at her. "We've managed to make it in time,

so how about I brew some tea for us in the clubroom?"

"Time for an after-party!" cheered Yuigahama.

"Yeah!" Isshiki replied with equal enthusiasm.

Yukinoshita shot Isshiki a cold glare. "You do one last check of the

whole thing. And have Miss Hiratsuka skim over it as well. That's the

editor-in-chief's job."

"Whaaat?" Isshiki whined. Yukinoshita's eyebrows twitched.

Picking up on that aura, Yuigahama cut between them. "Come on,

we'll still be here, so you can just come over once you're done."

"Wahhh… All right, I'll nail this quick, then go right over." And before

Isshiki had even finished saying the words, she squeezed her pen.

Her eyes wide like saucers, she started checking over everything.

With that sight still in the corner of my eye, I went out into the

hallway.

On the way to the clubroom, Yukinoshita let out a short sigh. "…If

only she would have dredged up that sort of motivation from the

start." Page | 174

"She can do it if she tries, huh?" observed Yuigahama.

"Some people are like that. They can't do it unless they're under

pressure," I said with a wry smile.

With a mean-spirited grin, Yukinoshita looked at me. "My, who could

you be talking about?"

"It's just human nature."

The Service Club room heater had been repaired the day before, so

in a drastic change from the other day, it was warm and cozy.

It wasn't like the student council room was particularly

uncomfortable, but I could relax better in the clubroom. It wasn't

really an emotional thing—I feel like it was more instinctual, more

territorial. Well, after frequenting an area for nearly a year, a dog or

cat would treat it as their territory. I'm no different.

However, I did get the impression that due to the past few days of

work editing the free magazine, this familiar space had become a

little disorganized.

As Yukinoshita was making the tea, Yuigahama and I decided to clean

up.

We gathered together all the papers and disposed of the garbage.

After a while, we finished up, and I was sitting my exhausted body

down. Yuigahama made this ah sound. Turning around, I saw her

holding the camera I'd used for the interviews.

"Hey, let's take some pictures. Of the Service Club!" Yuigahama

suggested, and a little wrinkle came together in Yukinoshita's

forehead. Seeing her reaction, Yuigahama tilted her head like she

was asking permission. Yukinoshita gave a little shake of her head in

response, and this time, Yuigahama cocked her head in the other

direction. Page | 175

As the two of them were arguing back and forth with facial

expressions, the door to the clubroom rattled open.

"I turned it in, quick and dirty!" Isshiki announced as she came in.

Uhhh, you didn't need to say the "quick and dirty" part…

When Isshiki noticed Yuigahama with the camera in hand, she

sounded surprised. "Oh, so you guys had the student council

camera? Are you still using it?"

"She says she's going to take a photo of the Service Club,"

Yukinoshita answered, as if she had nothing to do with this club.

You're a member, too, right…? Wait, you're the captain, right?

"Then I'll take it for you," said Isshiki.

"You be in the picture, too, Iroha-chan!"

"Yes, another time, definitely! …So first, all the members of the

Service Club." Though Isshiki was smiling, she refused bluntly and

just held out her hand. Maybe this was her way of being nice.

Yuigahama seemed to understand this, as she handed the camera

right over. "Oh? Thanks. Then please do! Let's all take one together

after!"

"Um, I haven't said anything about taking one yet, though…"

"You just don't know when to give up, Yukinon," Yuigahama said

flatly, leaving Yukinoshita at a loss for words.

Well, Yukinoshita's obviously going to fold in the end anyway… She

could try to resist, but the end result would be the same. I know the

feeling.

But I remembered there was a problem with that camera. "…By the

way, there's no more space on the memory card."

"Ohhh, yeah. 'Cause you took sooo many of the tennis club," teased

Isshiki. Page | 176

"What would you be taking pictures of, to use up that much

space…?" Yukinoshita said with exasperation.

Yuigahama thought about it for a moment, then gave a big nod. "The

tennis club… Sai-chan, huh…? I can see that."

"That makes sense to you, Yui?!" Isshiki wailed.

So she's finally given up, huh…? Wait, what if she's acknowledged

us…?, I was thinking, when Isshiki clapped her hands, then

rummaged around in the pocket of her blazer.

"If there's no space, theeen are you okay with this phone?" Isshiki

asked as she pulled out my phone. That reminded me that I hadn't

gotten it back from her that day.

"Ahhh, well, there's plenty of space, so it's fine," I said.

"Then I'll take it with this!" she suggested with a wink, raising the

phone straightaway. Was this also her version of being nice? Frankly,

when it comes to her, I have no clue…

"Ummm, then you can just sit down right there, and Yui and

Yukinoshita can be, like, standing behind you."

"Okay!"

"U-um… Agh…"

Isshiki briskly gave directions, and Yuigahama took Yukinoshita's arm.

It seemed Yukinoshita had finally given up resisting, and the both of

them lined up behind me. …Behind me?

"…Huh? Isn't this arrangement kind of weird? Don't you think this

kinda makes it look like a family portrait? Shouldn't we spread out a

bit more?" And, like, they're close! Too close! I know it's for a photo,

but being so close makes me a little anxious, so please spare me. Page | 177

When I tried to scooch my chair away to get some distance, my

shoulders were held down from both sides. Looking up, I saw an ice-

cold smile on Yukinoshita's face.

"You don't know when to give up, Hikigaya."

"Says you…"

"We're good to go, Iroha-chan!" Yuigahama shoved at my shoulder,

too, as she called out to Isshiki.

"Right, then here I go! Say cheese!" There was the sound of the

shutter, along with the flash going off a bunch of times.

Agh, I'm definitely making a weird face… This is like a family

portrait…

I was still angsting over the whole situation when Isshiki moseyed

over and returned my phone. "Here… It's a good photo," she said,

and she smiled in a bit of a grown-up way. I wasn't about to ask what

she meant by that. I'm sure it was nothing more than exactly what

she said.

"Send that to me, Hikki. Oh, but wait, Iroha-chan, let's take one

together!"

"Okaaay! Then you take it for us, please." Isshiki gave my shoulder a

pat, then hurried over to Yuigahama and Yukinoshita.

"I would rather not…," said Yukinoshita.

"Nope. Let's take it all together!" Yuigahama told her.

"So what order do we stand in?" Isshiki asked.

As the three of them quibbled over the composition, I took a quiet

look at my phone. There was the photo we'd just taken of the

Service Club.

…Yeah, it's not as bad as I thought. I mean, it's not very portrait-y. And plus, it seemed to me that this photo depicted the way the

Service Club was, the way we were, that I hadn't known how to write

about then. So it really wasn't as bad as I'd thought.

I still had no idea what to call it, or how to define it. Maybe that was

how we could share it. I'm sure of it, in fact. If you were to put it into

words, it would probably give form to those conflicting feelings and

tie them down.

"Hikki, take the picture!"

"…Right-o," I answered Yuigahama, and I stood up to point my phone

camera at them.

Yuigahama, with her usual bright and cheerful smile.

Isshiki, with her first-class pose.

And then Yukinoshita, embraced by each of them from either side,

looking a little annoyed, but also with shyly blushing cheeks.

How many more trivial, mundane scenes would we be able to

accumulate?

One day, when I'm old enough to feel nostalgia for this image, what

sort of pain will accompany that memory?

With these thoughts in mind, I snapped the photo.

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