The afternoon sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Kyoto University's Clock Tower Memorial Hall, casting warm patches of light across the wooden floor.
Professor Ogasawara walked at the very front, his gait steady, his voice carrying a pride in this institution of learning.
"This clock tower was built in the fourteenth year of the Taishō era—it's been nearly a hundred years now."
"Every time I look at it, I feel that time is a rather fascinating thing."
"It moves slowly, yet it never turns back."
"All right, when it comes to historical heritage, my University of Tokyo is far deeper than Kyoto University!"
At this point Professor Kosaka, smiling, cut off Professor Ogasawara, who was clearly trying to entice Tsushima Kagami into coming here for university.
Tsushima Kagami and his group, after the earlier Yomiuri Calligraphy Exhibition had ended.
And after sharing lunch with the two professors, had been dragged off by Professor Ogasawara to visit Kyoto University.
Tsushima Kagami thought that he'd already been planning the night before to come take a look at Kyoto University anyway, so he agreed.
Tsushima Kagami's gaze swept past the ginkgo trees outside the window; their leaves had long since withered yellow and fallen to the ground, blanketing the lawn outside.
This campus had a quiet, serene quality to it, as if it had distilled the youth and dreams of countless generations of students.
"You absolutely have to see the rare-book room of the Faculty of Letters."
Professor Ogasawara pushed open a heavy wooden door.
"Inside there are woodblock-printed editions from the Edo period, as well as quite a few first editions from the Meiji era."
Sayuri's eyes lit up.
"Can we go in?"
"Won't they be terribly valuable—what if we damage one?"
"Of course. Today I'm granting special permission."
The rare-book room was filled with the mingled scent of paper and camphorwood.
Sunlight poured down from the high windows, falling on the volumes upon volumes on the shelves, plating the spines with a layer of pale-golden gilt.
Hiratsuka Shizuka, off to one side, secretly stifled a yawn, then muttered in a low voice while watching the curious Ijichi Seika beside her.
"Books again—how boring."
Ijichi Seika merely gave a faint smile; although she wasn't all that fond of studying either.
Still, looking at so many books, including many one-of-a-kind copies and ancient texts, she instantly felt as though she'd become a cultured person too.
Yukinoshita Shizuku at this point also nudged Tsushima Kagami in the side.
Tsushima Kagami turned his head to look at Yukinoshita Shizuku.
Yukinoshita Shizuku said with a laugh.
"This is what a [Dassai Study] should really look like."
"Dassai-ya-sensei isn't living up to his name in the slightest, hmm~"
Thinking of this, Tsushima Kagami did indeed feel ashamed.
Even though he'd copied out so many books and often ran to the Library to look up reference materials.
But having taken on a pen name like [Dassai-ya], his home didn't have so much as a few presentable, decorative classical tomes to show off his cultured credentials—well, that he could let slide.
But they were all manga magazines and adult-manga magazines.
"Oh my, isn't that because our home simply doesn't have the means for that right now."
"Once we're settled in the future and have our own proper big house, it won't be too late to acquire these things then."
Yukinoshita Shizuku nodded as well, as if she'd already begun fantasizing about the everyday life she and Tsushima Kagami would lead after moving into a new house someday.
As for that residence in Setagaya, neither of them was factoring it in.
After all, it bore far too many joys and sorrows, partings and reunions; they only needed to come back and stay there now and then whenever they grew nostalgic.
After they'd toured through it all, Professor Ogasawara said to Tsushima Kagami with a smile.
"Our Kyoto University's academic atmosphere is, you might say, the finest in Japan!"
"Quite different from the likes of University of Tokyo, that university which only churns out bureaucrats."
"Kyoto University's Faculty of Letters and its research into classical literature rank among the very top in all of Japan."
Professor Kosaka, off to the side, gave a light cough.
"Ogasawara, your sales pitch is far too obvious."
"How is this a sales pitch? I'm simply stating the facts."
Professor Ogasawara spoke with perfect self-assurance, then turned to Tsushima Kagami.
"Kagami-kun, do give it some thought."
Tsushima Kagami gave a slight bow.
"Thank you, Professor. I'll consider it."
His tone was polite, yet conveyed not the slightest promise.
Professor Ogasawara didn't press the matter, and laughed heartily.
"All right, those words of yours are enough."
The group made another round of the campus, viewed an exhibition by a student club, and even happened to come across some Faculty of Letters students holding a small poetry gathering.
Finally, beneath the ginkgo trees in front of the clock tower, they bade the two professors farewell.
"Contact me anytime if anything comes up."
Professor Kosaka looked at Tsushima Kagami, a trace of complicated meaning in his eyes.
The Tsushima Kagami before him now seemed at once like a junior he was watching over, and like an old friend very much to his taste.
Tsushima Kagami nodded.
"Thank you, Professor, for today."
On the car ride back, Sayuri slumped against her seat.
"Good heavens, those professors really can walk—my legs are about to give out."
Sayuri spoke while pounding at her own legs.
Hiratsuka Shizuka and Ijichi Seika both reached out in unison to rub their waists as well.
Touring around with the two professors felt even more exhausting than playing a Livehouse.
Shimizu Nayotake, off to one side, was long accustomed to this much physical activity from her grueling part-time jobs.
She merely watched everyone with a faint smile as they grumbled and chatted.
Yukinoshita Shizuku also gave a soft laugh and looked out the window.
The setting sun was sinking in the west, dyeing all of Kyoto a warm orange.
She suddenly remembered something and turned to look at Tsushima Kagami.
He was resting with his eyes closed, no emotion discernible on his face.
Back at the hotel, the lobby was perfectly quiet.
Tsushima Kagami and his group were just about to head upstairs when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the lounge area.
Two familiar figures were nestled in the massage sofas.
Before them sat teacups and snacks, and some variety show was playing on the television.
"Komoe-sensei? Douraku-sensei?"
Komoe-sensei turned her head.
"Oh my, it's you all."
"How was your free-activity day today?"
"It was pretty good."
Tsushima Kagami walked over.
"Did you teachers not go out to play today?"
Douraku Utage-sensei was lazily reclining against the sofa, having shed her shoes and socks without the least bit of reserve, wiggling her little bare feet, a bag of potato chips in her hand.
"Taking students along on a school trip is exhausting, you know."
"It's rare to get a free-activity day, so of course we have to rest properly."
"Right, right, right!"
Komoe-sensei nodded again and again.
"I haven't left the hotel all day today—after soaking in the bath with Utage, I just curled up here watching TV, eating snacks, and enjoying a massage. It's pure bliss!"
Ijichi Seika's eyes went wide.
"You teachers just lay around the whole day?"
"What, is there a problem with that?"
Douraku Utage-sensei raised an eyebrow.
"You young people don't understand—once you reach our age, if you can lie down, you absolutely won't stand."
Hiratsuka Shizuka couldn't help but laugh.
"Douraku-sensei, the way you put it, you make it sound like you're seventy or eighty years old."
The few of them dissolved into laughter together.
"Then we won't disturb your rest any longer, teachers."
Tsushima Kagami said with a smile.
"See you at dinner."
"Go on, go on."
Komoe-sensei waved her hand and shrank back into the sofa once more.
The elevator doors closed, sealing off the variety show's laughter from the lobby lounge.
After parting ways with Yukinoshita Shizuku and the rest of the girls as well.
Back in his room, Tsushima Kagami set down his backpack and walked over to the window.
Outside the window was the dusk of Kyoto, and in the distance one could make out the silhouette of Kyoto Tower.
Seeing that Yamada Kenta and the others still hadn't come back.
Tsushima Kagami picked up a manga magazine he'd been reading earlier and began to read.
In the end, as he read on and on, he unwittingly drifted off to sleep.
At six in the evening, a clamor came from the hallway.
"We're back, we're back!"
Yamada Kenta's voice could be heard even through the door.
"I'm dead tired, dead tired!"
Roused awake, Tsushima Kagami got up and pulled open the door, just in time to see Yamada Kenta and his group emerging from the elevator, each and every one of them wearing an expression of finally being set free.
"Kagami!"
Yamada Kenta spotted him, and his eyes lit up.
"Where did you all go today?"
"The calligraphy exhibition, and then Kyoto University."
"The calligraphy exhibition?"
Yamada Kenta blinked.
"Was that thing even interesting?"
Tsushima Kagami thought for a moment.
"It was all right, I suppose."
"So that means it was boring."
Yamada Kenta drew his conclusion.
"The place we went is what you'd call interesting."
"Yes, yes, yes."
A classmate beside him cut him off.
"Your idea of interesting was spending a whole afternoon looking at figurines."
"What's wrong with figurines?"
"Ichimatsu dolls are art."
"Hina dolls are art too."
"So why can't ACG figurines be art!"
"That's prejudice!"
"All right, you're just drooling over the female characters, that's all."
Tanaka Yuta said with a laugh.
Then everyone burst out laughing.
The several of them headed toward their rooms, chatting and laughing.
Tsushima Kagami was just about to follow along when he suddenly heard Yamada Kenta say.
"Oh, right—it looks like a whole bunch of reporters have shown up downstairs, plus TV-station broadcast vans."
Tsushima Kagami's footsteps faltered.
"Reporters?"
"Yeah, there's a whole crowd gathered at the hotel entrance."
Yamada Kenta scratched his head.
"Maybe there's some event going on—is there a performance at this hotel tonight?"
Sato Kazuya said.
"Maybe some celebrity's staying here?"
"That's possible."
The few of them entered their room, discussing it.
Tsushima Kagami followed along back into the room as well.
He walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window beside him, drew open the curtains, and looked down below.
Looking down, he saw that indeed quite a lot of people had gathered below.
A nameless unease suddenly welled up in his heart.
Down in the hotel lobby, Komoe-sensei and Douraku Utage-sensei were still nestled in the sofas.
But their posture had shifted from the earlier languor to sitting up straight, necks craned to watch the commotion outside.
"Those people... are reporters, aren't they?"
Komoe-sensei said in a low voice.
Douraku Utage nodded.
"From the looks of that lineup, that's exactly what they are."
Outside the window, the sky had already grown dark, but the lights at the hotel entrance lit the place up bright as day.
Dozens of people were gathered at the entrance—some holding microphones, some shouldering video cameras, and still others hoisting telephoto lenses.
That kind of formation looked as if they were waiting for some important figure to appear.
"Who are they waiting for here?"
Komoe-sensei blinked in bewilderment.
"Is some star staying here tonight?"
"No idea."
Just then a few teachers came back from outside, and they too froze at the sight of this scene.
One teacher walked up in front of Komoe-sensei and the other and asked.
"Komoe-sensei, what's going on here?"
"I have no idea."
"Weren't you two here the whole time?"
"We were, but we don't know either."
Komoe-sensei spread her hands innocently.
"They just suddenly showed up, and then stood around over there."
The other teachers frowned and looked outside, just about to consider whether to notify the returning students to stay put in their rooms and not wander about.
Suddenly the main doors were pushed open.
The crowd surged in like a tide.
The sound of shutters clicked one after another, and the camera flashes lit up the lobby bright as daylight.
Komoe-sensei was dazzled into squinting.
Douraku Utage instinctively pulled the massage chair in front of herself as a shield.
The reporter at the head of the pack strode quickly up before them, the microphone practically shoved into their faces.
"Excuse me, are you teachers from Private Ousai?"
____
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