Boxes, Banners, and Basement Existentialism

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Yashiro was absent from school today.

He’d sent me a message in the early morning, saying he'd caught a fever and decided to stay in bed. Normally I’d have assumed he was trying to ditch some exam or stay home to play Final Fantasy all day or something, but given how the flu had been propagating like the bubonic plague, it wasn’t exactly unbelievable at this stage of the semester.

I wondered if sick Yashiro was just as cocky and smug as the regular one.

Sayuri had invited, or rather forced, me into helping her with the festival preparations today. She got Minase to join as well, who even agreed to let us use the Student Council room.

Sayuri was already there when I arrived. Sleeves rolled up, surrounded by stacks of cardboard, flyers, and a hot glue gun.

The Student Council room still had that over-polished sterileness that made it seem like no one actually used it, even though everyone knew it was constantly occupied.

“You’re late.”

Sayuri was quietly humming something under her breath. Though today she seemed a little quieter. Perhaps the visit to the observatory still stayed with her.

“You’re quiet today, did you fail another chemistry test?”

She gasped, hand over her chest in mock offense. “Rude! I only fail biology.”

Minase was sitting on the windowsill, flipping another finished pamphlet onto a neat stack. No comment.

Then I realized I still didn’t know what exactly Sayuri had planned for the festival.

“So,” I asked, grabbing a flyer and squinting at the messy bubble letters. “What is this, exactly?”

“A memory room!”

“A memory what?”

“A memory room! You go behind these curtains and it’s atmospheric and music plays. Then you write a memory down, fold it up, and drop it in this big jar in the center. Then you leave. That’s it!”

“That’s… oddly poetic for you.”

“Hey! Are you saying I can’t be poetic? You’ve never seen my notebook.”

Minase flinched at the word 'notebook.'

I quickly tried to change the subject.

“Hey, uh, Minase,” I said. “It was nice of you to let us use the council room. And don’t worry, I’ll force Sayuri to clean up the mess afterward.”

“It’s no problem,” she replied. “After all, we’re in a club now, aren’t we?”

I couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not.

Then Minase looked at me with a deadpan expression. “Do you mind?”

“Huh?”

“Are you gonna help us, or are you just gonna be useless?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.”

Sayuri’s eyes widened, and her lips began to pout. “OH, you wanna help, Tsu-kun?”

She tilted her head and gave me a sort of puppy dog-eyes expression. “If it’s no trouble, could you grab the boxes from the storage room in the basement for me? They’re just so heavy. Pleeeease?”

Now I finally realized why she wanted me here—Sayuri’s personal free labor.

“Boxes? What boxes?”

“For the festival! I kind of need them to finish this super important booth. Pretty pleeease?”

“Uh, sure. Where are they?”

“They should be in the storage room next to the drama club supplies. You’ll know when you see them.”

I didn’t even get a chance to protest. Sayuri had already turned back to her glue gun, humming again as she continued sticking two pieces of cardboard together.

Minase didn’t even try to hide her smirk.

“Fine,” I muttered, dragging my feet toward the door. “If I die falling down the stairs, tell Yashiro he still owes me more than just a lunch.”

Sayuri called out just as I was leaving. “Make sure you don’t mix them up with the drama club’s stuff! I don’t want any creepy masks in my memory jar!”

With that, I reluctantly headed for the basement stairs.

⊹ ▬ ▬ ⊹ ⊹ ▬ ▬ ▬ ⊹

I turned a corner.

Club students rushed from classroom to classroom in preparation for festival week.

I sighed.

Right.

The festival was this weekend. How on earth did the semester fly by this fast? How was it even possible for time to move both so slow yet so fast at once? First the festival and next thing I know, it’ll be January and time for college entrance exams. I wasn’t even remotely prepared. It felt as though time itself was slipping from my grasp. Life itself slowly straying outside of my control. 

It’s a frightening thought. Losing control.

People rarely contemplate it. They tend to take those things for granted. Yet when everything begins unraveling, by the time they realize, it’s already too late.

That’s the part that scares me the most.

Not the falling part, but the realizing. When you’ve realized that your life, your future, your limited time on this world was never truly under your control... and there’s nothing left to do but wait for the inevitable collapse. Like a glass slipping from your fingers and all you can do is watch it shatter.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. 

I thought about that day at Minase’s house. How real the mirror vision was.

The more time that passed since the more surreal it felt. Had it simply been my stress manifesting into some sort of hallucination? A byproduct of chronic sleep deprivation? 

I wanted to forget it all. But the more I tried, the more difficult it became.

When I reached the storage room, I started searching for those boxes.

A single flickering light bulb was all that stood between a semblance of light and total darkness. The walls were lined with boxes filled with junk from various clubs. What decade, however, was beyond my guess. In the corner, a single naked mannequin leaned against the wall like a scarecrow for sad ghosts.

These were the kinds of places people forgot about. Rooms that seemed to exist outside the flow of time and space. No one ever came down here unless they had a good reason to. The perfect place to hide something. Or to be alone with your thoughts.

In short, it was creepy, and I wasn’t eager to stay down here for long.

Sure enough, there they were. Between the drama club and literature club supplies, three large cardboard boxes, each with glitter leaking from the sides. On the front was written in large neon-green marker: ‘SAYURI’S ULTRA IMPORTANT FESTIVAL STUFF!! <3’  

I picked up one of the boxes and began my long, tenuous journey back to the Student Council room.

The glitter rubbed onto my hands as if Sayuri herself was mocking me.

⊹ ▬ ▬ ⊹ ⊹ ▬ ▬ ▬ ⊹

After three more trips, I was finally finished.

I collapsed into a plastic chair, completely breathless.

“Thank you, Tsu-kun! You’re the best!”

Minase stared at my glitter-covered hands and chest.

“You look like you lost to a kindergarten art project.”

I rubbed my hands together, trying to wipe away as much glitter as I could.

“Yeah, well, if I’m lucky, it’ll wash out by graduation. Thanks, Sayuri…”

Sayuri giggled.

Then abruptly, she got up. “I gotta use the girl’s room. Be right back!”

She darted from the room. And then it was just me and Minase again.

She was working on a half-painted banner spread across the floor.

I knelt down to help her. She gave me a sideways glance, then dipped a brush into blue paint and handed it to me.

“About the mirror thing,” her voice dropped to a whisper. “The other day… you really saw something, didn’t you?”

I froze a little at the topic. I wasn’t sure anymore. It definitely felt real, but I had no way of proving it.

I continued to paint and act casual. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

I sensed her staring at me again. The same stare she had when she was trying to analyze you for lies.

“You really did see something,” she said. “When you were looking into the mirror… I didn’t see it, but… I felt it. Whatever was there, it was very real.”

“Minase, you’re just being superstitious. I was probably just—”

“No,” she interrupted, her tone firmer than usual. “I’m not. You saw something. I know you did.”

I didn’t really want to argue, nor was I confident enough in my stance to.

“Tsukasa,” she said, her voice softer than usual, almost hesitant. “If you want, we could try again. With the mirror. We’ll be prepared. We’ll make sure this time.”

“You still want to do that?”

“Why not? I can tell you don’t believe it, but I think... there’s more to all of this. If not the mirror or the notebook then…”

She paused. 

“To you.”

I felt a blush forming on my cheeks and quickly turned so she didn’t notice.

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good,” I said, scratching the back of my hair.

I didn’t see it, but I could tell Minase smiled.

We went silent again, painting our own ends of the banner, in both completely different art styles.

I turned my head slightly and glanced over at her from the corners of my eyes.

She was kneeling on the floor, almost on all fours as she painted. There was a small smear of paint across her cheek, and her hair had fallen messily over her face.

Up close, her deep violet eyes seemed sharper. Brighter. The way the light caught her face made her look prettier.

Even after my many interactions with Sachiko Minase, it was the first time I noticed.

Maybe I wouldn’t mind being in a club with her.

For a moment, everything outside this small space seemed to fade away.

Then a voice called out and ruined the moment. 

“Heyyy, sorry it took so long. The nearest girl’s room was under maintenance, so I had to go all the way downstairs…”

She kept going. “…and of course, I ran into that first-year who thinks I’m a senpai therapist. I swear she started trauma-dumping before I even got a chance to wash my hands.”

“You are very approachable,” Minase replied with a fake-looking, presidential smile.

“Tragically. But don’t worry, I gave her solid advice. 'Dump him.' Always works.”

She stretched her arms and let out a loud yawn. “Yeah, we’ve done enough for today. Let’s all head home before Tsukasa passes out from sleep deprivation again.”

“Huh?”

She laughed.

With that, Minase gathered her things and left.

I stayed behind to clean up while Sayuri lounged in a chair reading one of the completed brochures. 

After a long time of trying to wipe the glitter off my body, I finally gave up. I zipped up my bag and headed for the door.

“Have a good weekend, Sayuri.”

But before I could leave, I felt a hand grab my blazer.

“Tsukasa, wait up.”

I turned. “What is it?”

She hesitated, just for a second. Then:

“Not everything broken is meant to be fixed. And not everyone who says they’re trying to fix it… really is.”

I stared, completely lost. “Huh?”

“If someone tells you it’s for your own good, don’t believe them right away.”

I tried to process what she meant by that. It was unusually cryptic for Sayuri.

“Is… is this about Minase? Because if there’s some secret rivalry between you two, you should really let me know.”

Sayuri let out a soft giggle and stepped back. 

“Sorry, heh. Weird mood. Probably the paint fumes,” she said. “Anyway, sorry to keep you! You were so much help today. Thank you, Tsukasa.”

Her voice was upbeat, but she seemed to be avoiding eye contact like she was hiding something.

“It’s no problem, really...” I said, eyes not leaving her as she moved across the room.

She grabbed her bag from the chair and walked out the door.

“See ya, Tsu-kun!”

“Yeah, see you.”

I stood there, still trying to process that final exchange, watching Sayuri skip down the hallway and out of sight.

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