WELL THEN, SHALL WE GO DISCUSS IT NOW?
“Huh? G-go where?”
Instead of answering his question, Utai jumped up from the bench and tugged on his sleeve. Haruyuki obediently stood up, and she picked up her bag, shouldered her backpack, said good-bye to Hoo, and then walked in the direction of the main gates.
He chased after her, wondering if they were leaving school grounds, but once they came out into the front courtyard from behind the old school building, Utai turned 180 degrees to the right and headed for the entrance. She changed into the slippers set out for school visitors and proceeded in the opposite direction from the cafeteria through the first floor of the new school building, where a number of students still lingered. Haruyuki looked up at the door Utai finally stopped in front of. The characters on the metal plate hanging there said STUDENT COUNCIL OFFICE.
It’s true that if I’m going to get advice on the student council election, there’s probably no one better than her for it! But I’m still not mentally prepared for that!
By the time Haruyuki had this thought, Utai was knocking loudly on the door.
“You’re late!” the student council vice president snapped, after she sat Haruyuki and Utai down on the sofa set.
“I-I’m sorry. We were at the animal hutch, so we had to go all the way around the old school building to come here…,” Haruyuki hurried to explain.
“That’s not what I meant.” Kuroyukihime pierced him with a below-freezing gaze. “I’m saying you’re late in explaining what was happening in the lounge.”
“Oh! I-is that it…? I’m really sorry…”
Kuroyukihime had indeed told him before the meeting started at lunch to explain everything in detail later, and he had said he would. He’d had class after lunch, and then his club duties, but it was negligence on his part not to have sent mail. On the other hand, the truth was that this was not a matter that could be clarified fully via mail.
“O-okay, so I’ll explain why Ikuzawa invited Takumu and me to lunch.”
Haruyuki cleared his throat and then spent a little over ten minutes once again recounting the tale of Mayu Ikuzawa’s terrifying request.
“I see.” Kuroyukihime crossed her arms and leaned back against the sofa. “So that’s what she wanted.”
“Yes,” he said. “And I wanted to ask you about how to politely refuse.”
“Mm. Well, why don’t you?”
“…Huh? Why don’t I what?”
“Run for council, of course,” she replied. “Go on and do it. Everything is experience.”
He couldn’t respond at first. “Sorry?! You say it like it’s no big deal!!”
“With something like a mere council election, it’s best to think of it as no big deal. It’s not as though you’ll lose your life, after all.”
“Th-that’s true, but it’ll definitely shorten my life!”
Utai listened to the back-and-forth between Haruyuki and Kuroyukihime with a grin. She had apparently anticipated Kuroyukihime’s reaction.
“I’ll put on some tea, so just calm down,” Kuroyukihime said, standing up. “Is decaffeinated coffee good for both of you?”
UI> I’D ASK FOR PLENTY OF MILK, PLEASE.
“I-I’d like that, too, please,” Haruyuki seconded.
Kuroyukihime headed toward the simple kitchen counter in one corner of the student council office. With a surprisingly practiced hand, she returned with three cups, a coffee pot, a sugar bowl, and a milk jug.
“How about this?” she said. “If you’re on the council, you can have all the drinks you want after school.”
“But Secretary Wakamiya, the president, and the treasurer are not here, though…”
“Well, finals are two days away,” she noted. “On a normal weekday, Megumi is usually sitting there, elegantly reading a book. The president and treasurer are busy and don’t often come to the office, though.”
“Uh…uh-huh. Anyway, thanks…” For the café au lait Kuroyukihime poured for him—three parts coffee, seven parts milk—he selected a reddish-brown sweetener from the multicolored mix in the sugar bowl and dropped it into his cup. He stirred briefly before taking a sip, and a fragrant nutty flavor permeated his mouth.
To his left, Utai put a milky-white tablet into her cup—one to nine, coffee to milk—and took a sip before tapping at her keyboard. UI> IT’S VANILLA FLAVOR.
“I think mine was almond…”
“I like the cinnamon one,” Kuroyukihime remarked as she brought her eight-to-two adult-flavored coffee to her lips and then returned to the topic at hand. “Haruyuki. You seem to have forgotten, but a mere month ago, you were talking with me about the student council election.”
“Huh? W-was I?” He did a high-speed search through the file of his every conversation with Kuroyukihime, which he had archived in his mind. He got a hit in about three seconds. The place was the VR space on the Arita local net, and the time was two days before the Hermes’ Cord race.
Kuroyukihime had suggested he run for the next student council, and Haruyuki had replied, “N-n-n-n-n-no way, no way!” The conversation promptly transitioned to an explanation of low-earth orbit space elevators, and the problematic bits had fallen from the surface of his memories. Because he could only assume she had been joking.
“I remember, but Kuroyukihime, you can’t…You couldn’t possibly have been serious?”
“Of course I was serious. About as serious as the percentage of milk in your café au lait.”
Which meant that she was 70 percent serious? Terrifying. Nervously, he asked for her true opinion again. “B-but…setting aside the question of whether I could get elected, um, why me? I don’t think I’d be a proper fit for president or vice president or secretary or treasurer.”
Mayu Ikuzawa had indeed referenced his work in the Animal Care Club and on the class exhibit for the school festival when she said that Haruyuki was suited to run for office. But when push came to shove, he’d been selected for the Animal Care Club because his usual scatterbrained powers had been on full display, and the level of technical expertise required for the class exhibit hadn’t been as high as all that. He could not understand why Kuroyukihime and Ikuzawa were suggesting he run, no matter how he tried.
His head hung low, and Kuroyukihime smiled gently across from him, while her mouth said something that was nearly the total opposite of the kindness playing on her lips.
“Whether you’re fit for office is a secondary matter. The reason I suggested running was of course because of the various advantages as a Burst Linker.”
“…Huh?”
“I’ve said any number of times before that that’s the reason I ran for vice president to begin with, yes? If you’re on the student council, you have greatly expanded access privileges on the in-school local net. You can reference the register with every student in the school, and it’s even possible to open a secret, external access gate like I’ve done. Also, you can use the council office as the operation room for the Legion. But, well, I would recommend staying away from the presidency, at least. What with the specialized committees and club activities and negotiations with school administration and what have you, the current president, Kamioka, seems quite swamped.”
“Um, so the vice president doesn’t have to do those kinds of things?”
“When I consented to Kamioka’s request to join the candidate team, I had him make it so that the main part of my job would be behind-the-scenes office work and processing. Incidentally, as secretary, Megumi puts together all the notices and publicity, and Nishi’s job as treasurer is actually to support the president in all aspects. I do the accounting.”
“Y-you do?” Haruyuki asked. “So then, could I make my real role be cleaning and shopping and making tea and things?”
“If you request that right off the bat, Ikuzawa or whatever her name is might very well lose faith in you.” With a wry smile, Kuroyukihime returned her cup to its saucer with a clink. “But on that point, it’s fortunate for you that Ikuzawa w
ants to be president. If you look elsewhere for a vice president, who is generally as busy as the president, then Takumu can run as treasurer and you as secretary. So for another year at any rate, we can relax in the defense of Umesato as the base for Nega Nebulus.”
“Wh-why am I secretary?”
“Well, you like books, don’t you?” she asked. “In this day and age, there aren’t too many students with bookshelves in their bedrooms and paper books lined up on them, you know. Well, though, in your case, you also have the retro games there…”
“My father left those books behind. But yeah, I guess I don’t hate them…But what does that have to do with the secretary job?”
“When it comes to writing, if you haven’t read a lot of books from childhood, you can’t really write. That’s what Megumi says. And I would also like to read the releases that you would write.”
Haruyuki didn’t have the least bit of confidence that he could write something like that, but he swallowed back the words of denial that tried to reflexively leap out of his mouth like they always did.
The ambition to be better, Ikuzawa’s desire to grow closer to Kuroyukihime as a person. Public spirit, the desire to be useful to the students of Umesato Junior High. Unfortunately, he couldn’t find either inside himself.
That said, however, to defend his headquarters as a Burst Linker…Could that be his motivation in running for council? It was one thing for Kuroyukihime to say that when she so wonderfully fulfilled her duties as vice president, but Haruyuki had no talents whatsoever. If he was to run on this basis, wouldn’t he be lying to Mayu Ikuzawa and the entire student body? Haruyuki bit his lip, and a small hand gently touched his arm.
With a smile, Utai Shinomiya tapped away, using Haruyuki’s skin as a keyboard. Cherry-colored letters rose up slowly in his field of view.
UI> ARITA, I THINK WHAT’S IMPORTANT IS WHETHER YOU’RE TRYING OR NOT.
“Huh…”
UI> WHATEVER YOUR MOTIVATION, IF YOU DO BECOME A MEMBER OF THE STUDENT COUNCIL, I’M SURE YOU WILL CARRY OUT YOUR DUTIES DILIGENTLY. JUST LIKE WHEN YOU WORKED SO HARD TO CLEAN UP HOO’S HOUSE. AND I THINK THAT’S THE MOST IMPORTANT THING.
“…I dunno,” he muttered, taking his eyes away from her smiling face.
He quickly got fed up with anything that was hard or a struggle and ran away. That was the self-assessment of Haruyuki—of the human being known as Haruyuki Arita. If Kuroyukihime hadn’t found him hiding away in the squash-game corner of the local net, those miserable days would still be happening. And the time he cleaned the animal hutch—if Utai had come along a little later, he might have thrown in the towel in the middle of it.
But was Utai saying that was okay, too? Did she mean that just trying to accomplish something was the most important part even without a grand motivation or mission, even if he couldn’t make it all the way to the end?
“Is there any meaning in work without results…? That’s what you’re thinking right now, yes?” Kuroyukihime hit unerringly on the question he was asking in his heart, and Haruyuki lifted his face with a gasp.
The current student council vice president turned her jet-black eyes toward the courtyard beyond the window and continued smoothly, “It’s still drizzling, but right about now, Chiyuri is training hard on the track for her meet. But if she doesn’t win at the meet or if she doesn’t reach her target time, does that make the work she’s doing now meaningless?”
“……!”
That was definitely not the case. The thought bounced in his mind, but unable to voice it, Haruyuki simply clenched his hands.
“Haruyuki, I’ve said a number of things, but I have absolutely no intention of pressing you into running for council. If it’s hard for you to refuse, I can talk to Ikuzawa for you. However…you say that it’s because you don’t have any talents, but is that really the reason?”
“Huh…?” Haruyuki unconsciously opened his eyes wide.
Kuroyukihime gazed directly at him as if to drill a hole into his head. “If it’s that you’re afraid of losing the election and having a miserable experience…I don’t want you to turn tail for a reason like that. Because even if you do lose, I think the experience of forming a team and working hard on the campaign will certainly be very formative for you.”
“…And if a guy like me runs and everyone laughs and makes fun of me…even then?”
“They won’t laugh,” Kuroyukihime declared crisply. “Umesato is not the sort of rotten school where everyone laughs behind the backs of people who are standing up and giving an honest effort. Even if there are one or two misguided souls, well, laugh right back at them.”
“……”
Kuroyukihime’s words echoed strongly in his heart.
She loves Umesato. She said before that she ran for council for the sake of the Legion…But I’m sure that’s not the only reason. I know she really does have a desire to make the school a better place. So what about me? Do I love this school? I came here because my mom decided I would. When I was being bullied, I regretted coming here every single day…But now, maybe…
“Um.” Haruyuki took a deep breath. “I…can’t decide yet. I don’t really know what I want to do, either. But…I’ll think about it. I’ll think seriously about it.”
“Mm. Good.” Smiling, Kuroyukihime nodded slowly. Beside him, Utai also bobbed her head. “The registration period for candidates is after summer break. Talk it over with Takumu, too, and then decide. Still, Ikuzawa also has to solicit candidates, so things won’t move that fast. I said this before: I won’t force you. It’s enough that you think seriously about it before giving your answer.”
UI> IF YOU WANT TO DISCUSS IT AGAIN, YOU ARE ALWAYS WELCOME! Utai added.
“With me as well, of course!” Kuroyukihime chimed in competitively, and after glaring at each other for a moment, the two girls broke out in bright laughter.
His mouth unconsciously loosened as he watched them, and he murmured deep in his heart, Of course I like this school. I mean, I got to meet Kuroyukihime and Shinomiya.
“Okay, I’ll take you up on that. I’ll discuss it with Taku, too. I’d like to decide during this term—no, during the next week.”
Kuroyukihime flashed him a grin. “Then once you make it through the finals with good grades, you’ll have a little less to worry about, hmm? And I’m not opposed to joining you in another study camp, you know.”
“N-no, you’ve already shown me plenty!” he protested.
“Mm, really? Then I suppose you don’t need this, either?” Shrugging, Kuroyukihime twirled a compressed file icon around on the tip of her finger.
“…What is it?”
“A list of predicted questions for all the subjects I took when I was in eighth grade, based on the past ten years’ worth of test problems. Incidentally, if you get every question correct, you get a bonus of two hundred butterfly points.”
“T-two hundred?!” He gasped.
Butterfly points were a strange system in which a point was added to your total when you caught one of the small butterflies who appeared in the app Kuroyukihime made; supposedly, something happened when you collected a thousand. He was doing his best, but he’d just barely, finally managed to get three hundred points. But if he could get two hundred points here, he’d jump up the cliff to five hundred all in one go.
“I-I’ll do it! Please! Please let me have that!”
“Well, challenge yourself then.” Kuroyukihime flicked her finger and sent the file through an ad hoc connection. Haruyuki chuckled as he pressed the button to accept it.
Utai pursed her lips unhappily. UI> SACCHI, DON’T YOU HAVE A PROBLEM SHEET FOR FOURTH GRADE? I’VE ONLY COLLECTED FIVE HUNDRED POINTS, SO C WILL OVERTAKE ME.
“Mm. T-true. I’ll make something for summer break.”
UI> YES! I MEAN, THANK YOU! After clapping her hands together, Utai cocked her head slightly and tapped hesitantly at her keyboard. UI> ALTHOUGH NOW THAT I THINK ABOUT IT, THAT JUST MEANS I WILL HAVE MORE HOMEWORK OVER
SUMMER HOLIDAYS…
Now it was Kuroyukihime and Haruyuki’s turn to laugh out loud.
7
“Hey!”
The large displacement V-twin engine roared and howled.
“Heeey!”
The massively thick radial tires squealed and tore at the surface of the road.
“Heeeeeeeeeeey!!”
The front tire lifted off the ground just a bit, and the large American motorcycle, covered in spikes, accelerated through the darkness.
“Here we go! Here it is, the Century End staaaaaaaage! The special effects makin’ mighty me’s ultimate power fifty percent strooooooonger!!”
“Th-there’s no such special effect!” Haruyuki retorted reflexively as he awaited the motorcycle, which was charging straight at him at a ferocious speed. “And fifty percent’s kinda meh, you know!”
“Zip those liiiiiiips!! Try sayin’ that when you see! Mighty me’s! Brand-new special attaaaaaaaack!!”
What? A new one? Haruyuki put his guard up at any rate, and in his field of view, the fin de siècle rider with his trademark skull helmet, aka Ash Roller, bounded up from the seat. He set his right foot on the handlebars and his left on the seat to shift to a surfing stance.
“That’s just the usual V-twin Punch!”
“Totes differeeennnt! Skin those eyeballs and watch and learn!”
“You open your eyes, you know! Not skin!”
“Open and skin ’em, then! Here we gooooo! New! Special attack! Max V-twin Puuuuunch!!”
Together with the name of the special attack (which Haruyuki thought was maybe cool or maybe not), Ash leaned forward. (And to be noted, this wasn’t a real special attack that was registered in the system, but just Ash going ahead and giving a move a name.) Instantly, sparks shot out of the front brake rotor while the machine decelerated dramatically. A burnout followed, the rear tire enveloped in a cloud of white smoke.
Now Ash would fly forward—or so Haruyuki thought, but he dropped to the right together with the vehicle so that the rear tire slid forward. With the front tire’s ground contact point as the center, the machine spun around horizontally as it charged for Haruyuki, the tires carving black waves into the cracked asphalt road.
Cradle of Stars Page 12
