Close One Door, Another Opens

[Popularity Contest: Final Poll]

Class 1-A:
1st: Yoshinaga Jun (+39)
2nd: Ogawa Naoki (+39)
3rd: Tsujimoto Mari (+1)

Class 1-B:
1st: Watanabe Yousuke (+6)
2nd: Komatsu Asuka (+6)
3rd: Kimura Eiji (+2)

Class 1-C:
1st: Nakano Chiaki (+14)
2nd: Yamakawa Takeo (+5)
3rd: Kurimoto Shin (+4)

Class 1-D:
1st: Fujimoto Rin (+7)
2nd: Arata Kichiro (+7)
3rd: Uchida Chiyo (+4)

Class 1-E:
1st: Shinohara Tsubaki (+39)
2nd: Kikuchi Tetsuo (+39)
3rd: Moriyama Seiji (+1)

Class 1-F:
1st: Mizuhara Kohei (+10)
2nd: Sugihara Junko (+6)
3rd: Mino Ruri (+5)

Total Exemplary Votes Cast: 480

Total Deplorable Votes Cast: 47

Expulsions: 1

***

“You seem to be rather popular lately, Kouhai-kun.”

“Is that so?”

“...Word of Special Project results go around quickly in this school.”

I struggled to see why word of what happened in Class 1-F would matter to the average Kitazawa student, and especially not to a second-year—but you didn’t have to go that far to understand Yukimura was lying.

Her constant finger-tapping, her scowl, her contemptuous voice (when it was normally as cold as steel)—it gave away her true intentions.

She was just annoyed.

“Look,” I said. “I didn’t ask to come to this café. You insisted.”

“And I didn’t ask you to have an entire group of female fans watching you from a distance, but you insisted.”

“...What? How does that make any sense whatsoever?”

“Oh, please. Do you think girls have nothing better to do than to stalk boys all day long? It’s obvious you asked them to come here.”

“......”

Nothing is a coincidence, everything is meaningful. Did Yukimura subscribe to that? Or did she subscribe to its malevolent cousin—nothing is a coincidence so long as it supports my argument?

“Yukimura-senpai, with all due respect, you dragged me to a café selling the three Ps: Pasta, pancakes, and parfaits. Not only that, everything here is grossly overpriced and the portions are tiny, the only saving grace being the plates’ somewhat aesthetic designs. With all that said… do you really think it’s a stretch that we ran into a few of my female classmates here?”

“Keep running that potty mouth, Kouhai-kun. I’ll have to rinse it out with soap later.”

I couldn’t tell if she was offended because I gave an honest review of Kitazawa Café or because I challenged her unreasonable behaviour.

At any rate, I was eating out with Yukimura in public, so there was some progress on that front—even if she still insisted on being completely tsun. Although romantic relationships are usually supposed to progress from public to private spaces, not the other way around.

Or so I’m told. This is all conjecture. I’ve never had a girlfriend.

“So,” Yukimura began. “You went from loathing social contact to becoming Mr. Popular in your class. How cute. Is it fun being the center of attention? The sun to your pathetic system of orbiters?”

“Wow, you’re really salty about my classmates, huh?”

“I just think that a certain group of girls in this café need to get a life rather than constantly looking in this direction.”

“Do you have eyes on the back of your head?”

Sugihara, Mino, Kagawa and Ando were sitting at a table in front of me, and therefore behind Yukimura—so I had no idea how she could tell they were constantly glancing over.

Incidentally, I heard female intuition grows stronger the more competitive a girl is.

“No, Mr. Popular-kun. I can tell whenever you’re making eye contact with them because you give this vexing micro-smile every single time. It’s disgusting. It’s as if you’re telling them, please continue looking. I’m desperate for female attention.”

“...Yukimura-senpai—”

“Please continue running your potty mouth.”

“I literally only… oh. Uh, Kiku-chan.”

“Yes, Kouhai-kun?”

There was a clear double-standard at play here… I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, though. Do let me know in the comments if you figure out what it was.

“Hypothetically, if you saw your classmate eating with someone you’ve never seen before, wouldn’t you at least be the slightest bit interested?”

I wanted to add ‘especially when they’re as beautiful as you’, but I was supposed to curb bad behaviour, not encourage it. I also realised halfway that there was no chance Yukimura… I mean Kiku… would give me a reasonable answer—but in view of wrapping this story up as fast as possible, I decided to be more resolute with my first drafts.

“I suppose I would be a little curious,” she replied. “You’re right on that front. But it still doesn’t explain why they’d need to look here every five seconds… Oh.”

Naruhodo, she said, her voice completely sinister.

Yukimura suddenly slammed the table, as if to punctuate her eureka moment. But I was totally confused. What could you possibly ‘see’ from any of this?

“Kouhai-kun. They’re not looking here first, are they?”

“Huh?”

“You’re actually the one staring at them. And whenever your filthy gaze meets theirs by accident, you try to play it off with a smile. Am I correct?”

Yukimura’s mouth twitched violently with every syllable that escaped her mouth.

“Look, Yuki—did you just kick me under the table?”

“Yes.”

After a little more back and forth which involved some relenting on my part, Kiku-chan finally decided to drop the delusional tantrum act.

“Forget it,” she sighed. “Just get back to where you were in the story. So, the blue-haired girl didn’t take your money in the end. Why?”

“Right. Sakura didn’t want to take the 200 thousand. Something about how she couldn’t stand the idea of taking a handout from me.”

In the end, Sakura stuck to her guns and prioritised her moral code. I could respect that.

Making a decision usually involves a trade-off between efficiency and ethics. Sure, there are times when the two can co-exist peacefully—but in a system as deplorable as the one Sakura and I were living in, finding that tiny, fleeting overlap was as good as chasing a pipe dream.

Performance and morality.

They were, for all intents and purposes, mutually exclusive in Kitazawa High School. The options were one or neither.

Naturally, Sakura’s focus on doing ‘the right thing’ made it such that she was no longer the loudest voice when it came to class discussions anymore. Sugihara Junko took over her position of facilitator, leading both the boys and girls in a righteous campaign against an alleged sex offender—whilst also encouraging people to vote for Mino Ruri as a form of monetary compensation for the trauma she’d been put through.

Operative word: alleged.

Yamada Junpei had no chance against that lynch mob. Not only was everyone eager since they had finally found a common enemy to expel, he only became more and more aggressive as the accusations piled on. If people could struggle in legal limbo for years due to a single false charge, you could imagine 4 weekdays was barely enough for Yamada to reverse his position.

As such, he was expelled with a score of (-27).

Not a single piece of hard evidence was produced over the course of the Special Project.

“I’m curious,” Kiku said. “I do admit your evaluation of the blue-haired girl was likely on point, but what would you have done if she decided to pick apart your position?”

“I would’ve made up some proof.”

“‘Proof’?”

“I’m sure you’re aware, Kiku-chan. You can buy snippets of CCTV footage from the school. It’s not like Yamada Junpei has a unique hairstyle, and we’re about the same height. As long as I picked a time where he had no alibi, like when he was sleeping, then…”

I could have just touched Mino Ruri on his behalf.

“...I could have framed him easily,” I said. “And that’s just one example. I could’ve easily made fake texts incriminating him with image-editing software, or simply stalled out the discussion for four days. Ultimately, the burden of proof falls on the accused in situations like these.”

Unless you’re a big-shot celebrity or a well-known athlete, no one ever takes the side of an alleged sex offender.

“That sounds absolutely disgusting. But resourceful, I’ll begrudgingly admit.”

I didn’t need to be told my Plan B was abhorrent. Sadly, survival is rarely a virtuous endeavour.

Lone men drink their own urine when stranded in deserts. Castaways cannibalise their fellow shipwrecked when food situations become vulnerable.

Desperation is just a natural instinct that we’ve repressed thanks to years of domestication.

Throwing 240 high schoolers into a free-for-all arena would inevitably resurface some of these 'inhuman' behaviours.

“So, what are you going to do now?” Kiku asked.

“Survive, hopefully.”

“I’m sure you know it’s not that simple. Now that you’ve placed first in a Special Project, people are going to pay attention to you. The students of Class E are probably going to view you as a threat... and so will the smart ones in your class. I suggest you watch your back.”

“Of course.”

“And one more thing. Only classes A to C will exist by the second-year, so…”

“So, I’ll have to expel 120 other students before they can get to me?”

“That’s one way of looking at it,” Kiku sighed.

Placing in the upper half, huh? I felt my heart rate quicken a little at the thought of that.

Tsujimoto Mari. Watanabe Yousuke. Sakura Emi.

All three of them were competent and dangerous in their own ways. And it wasn’t just limited to those three. There was the mysterious 39-point duo in the class directly above mine, the loose ends in Ueda Yuji and Mino Ruri, as well as the countless unnamed students in the lower half who would fight desperately for their lives. I couldn’t afford to underestimate any of them. In chess, even pawns can promote into dangerous pieces if you give them enough breathing room.

But there’s not much use in preparing so early. I subscribe to the belief that I’ll only exert effort if the situation requires me to do so. Otherwise, I’ll happily spend my days enjoying an ordinary school life. I’ll handle things as they come—no more, no less.

Basically, for now, it wouldn’t be so bad to just see Yukimura Kiku smile.

"Forget all that serious talk, Kiku-chan. Let's just enjoy our date."

"...Yeah. I suppose you're right."