Chapter XXXIX - The Sonata You Played Without Looking At Me

"Judgement Day! The hour of reckoning approaches! Banzai!"

Akise declared theatrically as the final bell rang, signaling the end of classes.

The rest of the class stared at him blankly for a moment before returning to their post-school routines. Our sixth period teacher simply sighed and shook his head as if accustomed to such outbursts.

I might have laughed at his melodrama if my heart weren't hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. My palms were slick with cold sweat as I gathered my books, each movement deliberate, as if proper alignment of notebooks and pencils might somehow influence the cosmic balance in our favor.

"Are we really doing this?" I murmured, more to myself than to my pink-haired friend.

Akise's hand landed on my shoulder, surprisingly steady.

"The celestial wheels are in motion, Shou-chan. There's no turning back now."

Across the classroom, Minazuki-san was already standing, eyes meeting mine with such intensity that made the surrounding chatter fade to white noise. A slight nod—so subtle anyone else would have missed it—and she moved toward the door without glancing back, confident we would follow.

"—did you see that? They're actually—"

"—with Minazuki, of all people—"

"—heading to the Student Council room, I heard—"

As we filed through the hallway, fragments of conversation reached my ears, equal parts curiosity and disbelief. Evidently, word traveled at light speed through Amane's ecosystem. Not surprising, considering the spectacle we had made of ourselves recently due to the rumors.

By the time we reached the stairwell, Takami Sosuke was waiting, casually leaning against the wall... but it was an act. Merely looking at the tension in his jaw and shoulders, I could tell he was nervous, too. His brown met mine, and a wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Showtime, huh. Ready for this?"

"Born ready," Akise declared, while I managed only a tight nod.

Together, the four of us moved through the afternoon-lit corridors like a small invading force. Students parted before us, whispers trailing in our wake. We made an unlikely quartet: Akise with his theatrical stride and flamboyant gestures; Sosuke, athletic grace emanating from his measured movements; Minazuki-san, cold beauty radiating defiance with every click of her non-regulation heels; and me... no longer invisible, no longer merely present, but somehow the gravitational center around which the others orbited.

"The Student Council always meets on Fridays after school," Akise narrated as we descended to the second floor. "Arisato will be holding court right now, dispensing his particular brand of institutional justice to lesser mortals."

"...You make him sound like a supervillain," Sosuke observed.

"All villains are the heroes of their own stories," Akise replied cryptically.

Minazuki-san snorted. "Philosophical drivel aside, we have a job to do."

"Indeed we do, Suzaku—"

"Call me that again and I'll remove your tongue."

"EEP!"

"Anyways, Kagami, what's the news on Sairenji?" Minazuki-san stared straight at me. "We haven't gotten any news on her, and the Cultural Festival is next week. If she can't d—"

"We will trust Sairenji." I interrupted. "I know that it's difficult, but... we have to. She's fighting, she's been fighting—probably harder than us... and a lot longer than us. But we need to start the proposal now, without her."

I took a deep breath.

"Trust me on this."

Sosuke nodded, and so did Akise.

Minazuki-san remained silent.

Soon enough, the Student Council room's double doors loomed before us like the entrance to some ancient temple. The polished wood gleamed in the afternoon light, brass handles reflecting distorted versions of our determined faces. Without the usual steady stream of petitioners and favor-seekers, the waiting area outside was eerily quiet.

We paused, a momentary hesitation before the point of no return.

I closed my eyes, drawing another deep breath. Memories washed over me—the weight of my mother's hands guiding mine over piano keys, the timbre of Minazuki-san's voice cutting through night air, the feel of Akise's stories weaving worlds around us, the solid presence of Sosuke returning to our fractured constellation.

When I opened my eyes, all immaterial things had settled inside me, making way for

Clarity. Certainty.

Resolve.

"Let's do this."

Akise pushed the doors open without knocking.

Arisato Seijuro sat at the head of the long table, pen poised over a stack of documents, surrounded by Student Council members who looked up in collective surprise at our intrusion. The room's standard dim lighting cast dramatic shadows across his perfect features, emphasizing the momentary shock that flashed across his face before he regained control.

Arisato spoke first, not skipping a beat.

"This is a closed meeting. If you have business with the Student Council, there are proper channels—"

"We're here for you specifically, not the council." Sosuke interjected, stepping forward.

"Takami-kun. An unexpected addition." His gaze swept over us, assessing and dismissive all at once. "Though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to find you in such... eclectic company. It is the offseason after all."

Akise bristled at the implicit condescension, but Minazuki-san covertly placed a restraining hand on his arm and silenced him with a glare.

"Perhaps you should adjourn the meeting. This conversation is better had in private." I suggested quietly, but it sounded more as a demand of sorts.

Arisato's eyes narrowed fractionally, but he gave a slight nod to the other council members.

"We'll continue next week. Please excuse us."

The Student Council members filed out. The last one closed the doors behind them with a soft click that somehow felt like the final tumbler in a complex lock.

"Well? To what do I owe this dramatic interruption?" Arisato leaned back in his chair.

And of course... Akise had to relieve the tension a bit.

"We come bearing tidings of great cosmic significance!" He spread his hands out wide.

"The Four Symbols Club," I translated, before Akise could continue his performance. "We've met your requirements. Four members, legitimate activities, proper supervision."

"Is that so? Who, precisely, are these four members?" Arisato coldly inquired.

"Nanahara Akise," Akise announced proudly.

"Kagami Shouma," I added.

"Takami Sosuke," Sosuke stated flatly.

"Minazuki Serena," she finished, arms crossed defensively across her bust.

Arisato's gaze lingered on each of us in turn, calculating something behind that mask of perfect composure. His attention settled last on Minazuki-san, mouth curving into something too sharp to be a smile.

"Minazuki-kun, it's rather unexpected to find you engaged in extracurricular activities. I was under the impression you preferred a more solitary existence."

"People change," she coolly replied.

"Do they? I wonder... or do they simply find new ways to disrupt social order?"

"I fail to see how joining a school club means disruption," Sosuke interjected mildly.

Arisato shifted his attention. "Not any club, Takami-kun. This particular...organization... has a history of misusing school resources and promoting questionable values."

"Oh? And what values would those be?" Sosuke's tone remained casual, but I recognized the steel beneath it—the same focused intensity he brought to tennis matches.

"Fantasy. Escapism. A rejection of practical reality in favor of childish make-believe." Arisato's gaze flicked to Akise. "Hardly the sort of pursuits Amane should be encouraging among its students."

I decided to counter back that deluded frame of thinking.

"Creativity and imagination are essential components of innovation, Arisato-senpai. Every scientific breakthrough, every artistic achievement, every advancement in human history began with someone imagining something different."

"A fascinating philosophy, Kagami-kun, but it doesn't change the fundamental issue. The Four Symbols Club remains a degenerate group that brings no value to this institution. Having technically satisfied the membership requirement doesn't justify allocating limited resources to activities that serve no educational purpose."

Akise smiled then, a brilliant, knowing smile that I'd seen countless times before.

The expression worn when his carefully laid trap was about to spring.

"Ah, but that's where you're mistaken, Arisato-senpai! The Four Symbols Club has evolved. We're no longer just astronauts of mythology!"

"Oh?"

"We're a band," Akise declared proudly. "A musical ensemble that will perform at the Cultural Festival, contributing to the school's artistic and cultural enrichment!"

For a moment—just the briefest flicker of time—Arisato seemed genuinely taken aback.

This was not the direction he'd anticipated.

"A band...? You expect me to believe that this last-minute conversion to a musical performance is anything but a desperate attempt to circumvent proper procedures?"

"Believe what you want," Minazuki-san had her own riposte. "The Cultural Festival explicitly calls for artistic contributions, and music certainly qualifies."

"And what does East Asian mythology have to do with musical performance?" Arisato challenged.

"Everything! The Four Symbols represent harmony and balance. Wu Xing, the five elements, and the cardinal directions. Music is the harmony of mathematics made audible. It's the perfect expression of the symbolic principles we've been studying all along."

Akise responded without missing a beat.

I watched Arisato carefully, noting the subtle indicators of his growing frustration. The slight tightening around his eyes, the almost imperceptible tension in his jaw.

For once, his perfect composure was showing noticeable fractures.

"But even if I were to accept this evolution of your club's purpose, there remains the issue of qualifications. Any sports club or team has dedicated players. Any choir club has dedicated singers. Without any demonstrated dedication in one's craft, one cannot call yourself part of the club they represent. So, what musical experience do any of you actually possess?"

Now we were on dangerous ground. It was the worst case scenario, and his question probed the precise weakness in our hastily constructed plan.

"I play piano," I stated, the admission still feeling strange on my tongue after years of silence.

"Singing," Minazuki-san added.

"Drums," Sosuke offered. "Been playing since elementary school."

Arisato's predatory gaze then settled on Akise.

"And you, Nanahara-kun? What instrument do you play in this supposed band?"

Akise's smile dimmed slightly.

"Why, I compose and arrange! I provide the thematic framework that unifies the performance."

"Ah... so nothing, then. You contribute no actual musical element."

Arisato's voice was soft, almost gentle in its cruelty.

"That's not—" I began, but Arisato continued as if I hadn't spoken.

"The club charter specifically requires active participation from all members. Composition without performance is vaguely just observation. By your own admission, Nanahara-kun provides no tangible contribution to this alleged band, which means you still have only three functional members, not four."

The room temperature seemed to drop several degrees, and all of us froze.

We had no answer. Arisato had identified the glaring hole in our strategy, and now he was exploiting it to its fullest.

But our Byakko flailed as hard as he could in the face of adversity.

"That's just bull. Composition is essential to music. Without Akise, there would be no cohesive performance—"

"And yet without sound, there is no music."

Arisato drove the dagger in further.

"Theoretical contributions, however intellectually stimulating, do not constitute active membership as clearly defined in your own charter. I'll even read it out loud.

Section 3, Paragraph 2:

'All members must actively participate in club activities through measurable, demonstrable contributions.'"

He was quoting our own founding document back to us, a document Akise had written in a fever of imagination one year ago, never anticipating how its specific wording might become the instrument of our destruction.

I couldn't let him win. Not like this.