The teachers, baffled, looked at one another.
Inwardly they thought, oh no, why have they come for our school after all?
Where's the Chairman? Chairman, come save us, quick!
At this point a teacher who clearly looked like a year head stepped forward.
"Hello, we're from Private Ousai."
"But whatever the matter is, please wait until our Chairman arrives."
"No further comment!"
But the reporters simply ignored the rest of what this teacher said.
After hearing him admit he was a teacher from Private Ousai.
They all swarmed forward, thrusting microphones bearing various network logos and voice recorders in front of the cluster of teachers.
"Excuse me, is the student Tsushima Kagami a student at Private Ousai?"
"Is he at the hotel right now?"
The several teachers heard that they were here looking for someone.
After exchanging glances for a while, it was again that teacher who spoke up.
"Sorry, there's no one named Tsushima Kagami at our school!"
He had at least confirmed there was no Tsushima Kagami in the second year, though he knew there was a Yukinoshita Kagami—but since that student's name in the records hadn't been changed back, it didn't quite count as lying.
What mattered now was to first hold all these reporters back, then wait until the Chairman arrived to grasp the situation, assess the seriousness, and decide how to respond.
"Impossible!"
"This is clearly the uniform of your Tokyo Private Ousai!"
One of the reporters held up a newspaper.
On it was written Yomiuri Evening News.
And the front-page headline read:
[Master of Dassai-ya Suspected to Be a High Schooler?]
Subheading.
[The Identity of No Longer Human's Author Stirs Fresh Waves—an Impromptu Composition at a Calligraphy Exhibition Rivaling the Ancient Poems of the Man'yōshū!]
The article described in detail what had happened the day before.
[A high schooler named Tsushima Kagami wrote, at a calligraphy exhibition, a "Thunder God Tanka" composed in Man'yōgana.
Its style was seamlessly one with the Man'yōshū, and Professor Kosaka of the University of Tokyo's Faculty of Letters privately referred to this high schooler as Dassai-ya-sensei!]
Below there was also a photo—the very image of Tsushima Kagami in his Private Ousai uniform, in his dashing form as he wielded the brush.
This teacher froze for a moment, then looked at the student in the newspaper wearing his school's uniform.
He had to admit, though it was black-and-white newspaper printing, the composition captured this student as both refined and handsome.
But in the end he still kept a straight face and said:
"Sorry, for now we cannot confirm that this student is from our school."
"Everything can wait until the Chairman returns!"
With that, the teacher quickly led the others—while the reporters hadn't yet recovered—into an elevator that happened to have just come down, returning to their lodgings.
Meanwhile.
Tsushima Kagami was still in his room chatting with Yamada Kenta and the others, and just as the time was about right and he was about to head out to the restaurant, his phone rang.
An unfamiliar phone number showed on the screen.
He answered, and the moment he put it to his ear, he heard an urgent voice on the other end.
"Tsushima-kun, something's happened."
Tsushima Kagami immediately recognized Professor Kosaka's voice.
"What is it, Professor Kosaka?"
Professor Kosaka's voice carried apology, even a hint of panic.
"Your identity has been exposed."
Tsushima Kagami paused.
"What?"
"It's the Yomiuri Shimbun's evening edition."
Professor Kosaka spoke quickly.
"It reported on you writing the 'Thunder God Tanka' in Man'yōgana at the calligraphy exhibition."
"And that reporter who picked up the lens cap behind us this morning—he must have heard me call you Dassai-ya-sensei."
"He pretended not to hear, then secretly wrote the report."
Professor Kosaka's voice was tinged with regret.
"It was careless of me. I shouldn't have, in that setting..."
"Professor Kosaka."
Tsushima Kagami cut him off, his voice still calm.
"No need to apologize. This isn't your fault."
"But—"
"It's really fine."
Tsushima Kagami walked to the window and looked at the dense crowd below.
"I never deliberately tried to hide my identity."
"I just felt that if my identity were made public, it might be a hassle."
"So I figured there was no need to go out of my way to reveal it."
"But it's no big deal that it's out now."
"After all, I'm not some celebrity with dirty secrets."
Professor Kosaka fell silent for a moment, then said:
"I'll come to your hotel right away."
"Right now you need someone with weight to help you deal with that pack of reporters."
"All right then, thank you, Professor Kosaka."
After hanging up, Tsushima Kagami looked out the window.
The camera flashes below twinkled on and off like a falling galaxy.
He gave a soft sigh.
This reporter sure could bide his time.
Hearing such a huge scoop, he'd actually managed to refrain from asking on the spot.
Instead he'd slipped away in secret, unable even to wait for the next morning's paper, and broke a big story in that very evening's edition!
Even Shūkan Bunshun isn't as dedicated as you!
Where's your professional ethics as a news reporter?!
Truly too sneaky!
Just as he thought this, Tsushima Kagami's phone rang again.
Looking at the number, this time it was Kobayashi Tomoaki.
"Kagami-kun!"
The voice on the other end was urgent and full of concern.
"What's going on?"
"I saw that report in the Yomiuri Shimbun—how did you suddenly get exposed?"
Tsushima Kagami briefly recounted what had happened.
After listening, Kobayashi Tomoaki was silent for a few seconds, then said:
"What do you plan to do now?"
"Since it's out, there's no need to hide anymore."
"I'd have to show my face sooner or later anyway, right?"
Tsushima Kagami said.
"Might as well take this chance to go public."
"Good, I support you."
Kobayashi Tomoaki's tone turned decisive, then he added:
"But you'd better drag it out until tomorrow."
"Don't answer anything today."
"I'll bring people and head to Kyoto overnight right away. Tomorrow at the press conference we'll teach you how to face those reporters."
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me—you're an author of our Shinchōsha."
"Of course the press conference to reveal your identity has to be hosted by us at Shinchōsha!"
Kobayashi Tomoaki said.
"Wait for me!"
The call ended.
Tsushima Kagami had just set the phone down when it rang again.
Another unfamiliar number, looking like an Osaka area code.
He answered.
"Hello, is this Mr. Tsushima Kagami?"
The voice on the other end was steady and polite.
"Hello, yes, it's me."
"May I ask who's calling?"
"I'm the editor-in-chief of the news editorial department at the Yomiuri Shimbun's Osaka head office. My humble surname is Yamamoto."
"Hello, Mr. Yamamoto."
"First, I must express my most sincere apologies to you."
Editor-in-chief Yamamoto's voice carried a heaviness.
"Today's Yomiuri Calligraphy Exhibition in Kyoto—it was a blunder in the course of the joint coverage by our Osaka head office and the Tokyo head office."
"The reporter who broke the story was sent by the Tokyo head office. Without informing us in advance or consulting together, he submitted the exposé report about you directly to the Tokyo head office's editorial department."
Tsushima Kagami said nothing.
"We at the Osaka head office didn't learn of this until the evening edition was already printed."
Editor-in-chief Yamamoto continued.
"Our Osaka head office has already lodged a formal protest with the Tokyo head office."
"Their actions seriously violated the privacy rights of a law-abiding citizen, and at the same time damaged the image of all of us Kansai news reporters—even the very possibility of future friendly exchange between the Yomiuri Shimbun's Osaka head office and yourself."
"I understand."
"Also, I never admitted that I'm the Master of Dassai-ya."
"Haha, even if you aren't."
"With that waka, you're bound to become famous anyway."
"And besides, it's a treasured piece of calligraphy you left at our Yomiuri Calligraphy Exhibition."
"It should have served to further deepen the exchange and friendship between us."
"It's all the fault of those ill-mannered Kanto people!"
"I told you, with these Kanto vermin around, you can't even do proper news reporting!"
Only after saying this did editor-in-chief Yamamoto seem to remember that Tsushima Kagami was also a Kanto person.
So with an awkward laugh he backpedaled.
"Ah, hahaha, I meant these reporters from the Tokyo head office."
"Please don't take it to heart."
"All right, I understand."
"Thank you, Mr. Yamamoto, for calling to explain the situation."
Tsushima Kagami said flatly.
"Then I won't keep you any longer."
After hanging up, before Tsushima Kagami could even set the phone down, it rang again at once.
This time it was a Tokyo number.
Tsushima Kagami glanced at Yamada Kenta and the others beside him, who looked like they wanted to speak but held back, and helplessly answered once more.
The voice on the other end was even more solemn.
"Mr. Tsushima, I'm a senior managing director of the Yomiuri Shimbun's Tokyo head office, and on behalf of the head office I apologize to you."
"Mm."
"That reporter, as well as the chief editor who approved publication without sufficient review, have already been suspended."
the man said.
"What's done is done; we cannot retract the report."
"But we hope you'll give us a chance to make amends."
"How do you want to make amends?"
Tsushima Kagami's eyebrow twitched.
Tsushima Kagami knew that in Japan, pure-literature authors held a very high status.
High enough that they dared to curse out prime ministers and financial conglomerates.
And after being cursed, those parties had to grit their teeth and take it, unable to stoop to your level.
But those were truly long-renowned literary giants.
His own works, perhaps, already had the air of a literary master.
But Japan was still a place where you ground out seniority.
Even a literary giant has to put in his years.
What's more, right now he was merely the suspected Master of Dassai-ya in the news.
It hadn't even been confirmed, yet first the Osaka head office's editor-in-chief, then the Tokyo head office's senior managing director—
one after another, deigning to personally lower themselves to call and apologize to him.
As expected, the Japanese "sumimasen" and bows really are the cheapest things around!
"We have a remedial proposal we've tentatively worked out—what do you think of it?"
the voice on the phone finished.
Tsushima Kagami was silent for a few seconds, then said:
"For the specifics, please contact Mr. Kobayashi Tomoaki of Shinchōsha directly."
"Of course, we will."
"Once again, our apologies."
The call ended.
Tsushima Kagami finally set down the phone and turned around.
Yamada Kenta and several classmates were standing at the doorway—no one knew since when—all staring at him dumbfounded.
"Kagami..."
Yamada Kenta swallowed hard.
"What... what were all those phone calls just now about?"
Yamada Kenta and the others had been listening to Tsushima Kagami's conversations with the people on the phone.
And could roughly fill in a concrete picture in their heads.
"You aren't really the [Master of Dassai-ya], are you?"
Tsushima Kagami nodded.
"No Longer Human was really written by you?"
Tsushima Kagami looked at him and nodded again.
The room went quiet for three seconds.
Then Yamada Kenta suddenly rushed over and grabbed Tsushima Kagami by the shoulders.
"Kagami, you're actually that famous author?!"
"You hid it from us for so long?!"
"Are we even still good friends?!"
"Is there anything else you're hiding from me?!"
Tsushima Kagami thought about it—several times he'd wanted to tell Yamada Kenta that he was Xuanyaye.
But he'd always been interrupted by something else and forgotten.
Might as well take this chance to tell him now too.
"Um... Kenta."
"There actually is one more thing I have to tell you."
"What thing?"
Yamada Kenta's face stiffened—he hadn't expected Tsushima Kagami really did have something else he'd been hiding!
Beside them, Sato and Tanaka also looked on curiously, wondering what other bombshell secret Tsushima Kagami could possibly reveal.
Just as Tsushima Kagami was about to speak.
A knock came at the door again.
"Hold on, I'll go get the door."
With that, Yamada Kenta turned, walked to the door, and opened it.
"C-C-Chairman!" Yamada blurted.
Yamada Kenta saw that standing at the door was the Chairman, whom he rarely saw, and behind the Chairman was the whole group of teachers accompanying them on this trip.
A wave of pressure instantly cowed Yamada Kenta into retreating back into the room.
At this point the Chairman led the teachers into the room.
He looked at Tsushima Kagami beside him and said with a smile:
"Yukinoshita-kun."
"Oh no—it should be Tsushima-kun."
"By the look of you, you must already know the situation."
"So, have you prepared a countermeasure?"
In the elevator, the Chairman, together with Tsushima Kagami—who had already prepared what he would say—and the whole group of teachers, headed for the lobby to face the reporters.
The students who had earlier come out to watch the commotion were driven back to their rooms by the teachers, expressly forbidden from leaving their doors before the matter was over.
At this point Komoe-sensei also leaned in close to Tsushima Kagami and whispered:
"When we go out in a moment, those reporters are sure to charge over—Kagami-kun, what do you plan to do?"
"Have them come back tomorrow."
"Just like that?"
Tsushima Kagami smiled.
The elevator doors opened.
In the lobby, the reporters fell silent for a split second, then surged over like a tide.
The flashes lit up everything.
One of the reporters pointed.
"It's that boy!"
"I was at the Yomiuri Calligraphy Exhibition this morning too!"
Hearing this, all the reporters swarmed straight up in front of Tsushima Kagami.
The hotel security on hand, working together with the Kyoto Prefectural Headquarters police—who had received a call earlier and were already deployed and waiting here—simply couldn't hold back these reporters who, at the sight of a big scoop, lunged like ravenous dogs.
And the Chairman and the other teachers immediately surrounded Tsushima Kagami in their midst.
Even so, the reporters kept relentlessly poking their microphones and voice recorders into every gap of the human wall the teachers had formed.
"Mr. Tsushima! Are you really the Master of Dassai-ya?"
"How old are you this year? Are you really just a teenager?"
"Where did the inspiration for No Longer Human come from?"
"Why have you chosen to hide your identity all this time?"
Countless questions came firing like bullets.
Tsushima Kagami stood where he was, his expression calm.
He raised a hand and gently pressed it down.
The crowd actually did quiet down.
"Everyone."
His voice wasn't loud, yet it carried clearly across the entire lobby.
"Tomorrow there will be a formal press conference."
"The exact time and location will be announced later."
"At that time, feel free to ask whatever questions you like."
"Tonight, please let me and my classmates and teachers get a good rest."
With that, he gave a slight bow.
Then the Chairman and the teachers edged toward the elevator again, and when it came, they all stepped in together.
After the few PE teachers holding the line at the front blocked the reporters who tried to crowd into the elevator with them, they too entered the elevator.
The reporters stood where they were, looking at the boy's retreating figure and those fierce, burly, bear-backed PE teachers, and for a moment no one dared to give chase.
In the elevator, many of the teachers struggled to keep their composure, but the excitement on their faces couldn't be hidden at all.
They all already knew the full story, and from Tsushima Kagami's response, it basically amounted to him tacitly admitting that he himself was the Master of Dassai-ya.
A prestigious private school like Private Ousai placed great value on famous alumni.
Each additional famous alumnus in the political, business, or arts-and-literature world meant not only a boost to the school's reputation.
The teachers' own invisible social standing would likewise rise along with it.
What's more, the more famous alumni there were, the more outside donations came in, and their salaries and benefits would rise accordingly too.
So once the teachers learned the identity of this student before them—and that he would surely become a famous author, even a literary giant, in the future.
It felt like they had sheltered a fledgling about to spread its wings and soar across the vast blue sky, shielding him from wind and rain in his coming growth.
And this sense of accomplishment aligned with their ideals as teachers who educate and nurture, and with their responsibility as adults.
At the thought of how today they had helped Tsushima Kagami, sheltering him beneath the wings of these adults, everyone felt a shared sense of honor.
____
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