You're going too far...!

We sat for a few minutes, processing everything we heard. It wasn't long before Satomi checked in with everyone again, asking if we were ready to proceed with the next challenge.

"Okay guys, we’re running out of time. So, we're gonna wrap up this assembly soon. But first, I need you all to get out of your seats and line up on that white tape we put on the floor."

One half of the gym had a space with a line of tape running down the backside of the room. The other half is where the seats were placed. We got up as instructed and lined up side by side along the white tape. Satomi and her colleagues pushed back some chairs to make extra room for us. Luckily, it wasn't a tight squeeze despite there being eighty of us. When everyone was settled into place, Satomi explained the rules of our next task.

"Excellent! This next activity is called "Crossing The Line." We're going to shout out some statements. If you agree with the statement or it describes something that you've experienced you step over the white tape. For example: Step over the line if you like chocolate cake!"

One of her colleagues, Naruyuki, took the reins and showed the simple step of crossing over the tape. She stood a few feet over the line. About twenty seconds passed before she walked back behind the tape.

"Very good! Come back, Naruyuki! When you cross the line, wait for other students to join you. Then stay for a few seconds before we say it's okay to turn back. Any questions?"

The rules were easy to understand, so no one spoke up.

"Good. Now, leave everything to us! Um… Number one: Cross the line if you've ever been to a party."

A handful of students stepped forward and stood on the other side of the tape for a few seconds before being called back to the starting point. We were asked a whole round of questions and this time, Satomi wasn't alone. One after the other, Satomi and her friends took turns calling out statements. Since Satomi was the main spokeswoman for this event, this was the most vocal the rest of them were going to get.

"Cross the line if you ever gave someone a present."

"Cross the line if someone has shown you kindness."

"Cross the line if you ever felt embarrassed in front of someone else."

"Cross the line if you've ever been misjudged by others."

"Cross the line if you believe that you have someone in your life that cares for you."

The first round of statements seemed to deal with social situations. Each statement had a different number of kids crossing the tape. Most of the students here have been to a party and gave someone they knew a present. But the numbers dwindled with the later statements. Every time we stepped over the white tape, all we could do was look at each other while we let the seconds fly by. By doing an activity like this, it didn't take long for us to realize that we shared these little things in common.

Then, the statements shifted to subjects that tackled school and home life.

"Cross the line if you've ever been late to class."

"Cross the line if you've pulled an all-nighter."

"Cross the line if you feel comfortable confiding in your parents or a trusted adult."

"Cross the line if you love coming to school every day."

"Cross the line if you're thrilled to come home after a long day at school."

"Cross the line if you're appreciated and rewarded for your achievements."

"You feel stressed or overwhelmed with responsibilities."

"Cross the line if you fear punishment at school or home."

"Cross the line if you think your family is normal."

At first, there was an understanding among the students. We glanced at the people who stood beside us and back at the people who remained behind the line. We learned something new about each other that we wouldn't have before. It started off innocently, but as the flow of statements continued, the students became tenser. It was like these statements were prodding at an open wound. I saw it on their faces. The students who agreed with the later statements crossed over with strained expressions. Either their faces turned ice cold or puffy with redness. Powerful emotions were welling up inside as if they were on the verge of tears.

Jeez, what could have happened to them to cause these reactions? And where is the Kentō Association going with this by making us answer these statements? Judging by the turn of events, I thought this was supposed to be a "fun" assembly where we could get loose and socialize. Now, it's turning into something…deeper. I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with that.

Hey…

Just what are they trying to make us do?

"Thanks for participating, everyone... You can return to your groups now."

Satomi took the lead again and everything sorta ended there. The statements stopped before the prodding could do any serious damage. Satomi and the others seemed hesitant to go any further. Compared to everything that came prior, this activity didn't end on such a joyful note. Even Satomi's voice had lost some of its cheer when she gave us the okay to stop what we were doing.

Everyone was trying to regroup with their teammates so it would make returning to our seats somewhat easier. A few minutes passed, and we were back where we started. Everyone waited for Satomi to speak to us again but we all found ourselves in the middle of a long pause. Throughout this assembly, the students sometimes sat in silence, not knowing what to say. It was still an unfamiliar experience for all of us, so we didn't know how to react. But now it was Satomi who was at a loss for words. She stood behind her microphone. She gazed at us, forcing a smile while a drop of sweat rolled down her face. Maybe she felt guilty by the end of the previous activity. Maybe she felt bad for invoking those pained reactions from before. Those were all assumptions on my part, but now she knew how it felt to be caught in an awkward situation.

Just when I thought the tables had turned, I spoke too soon. Satomi's sunny disposition had returned in full stride. Talk about a fast 180.

"This is it! You've reached the home stretch! We have one final activity that we'd like for you to take part in... After this, today's assembly will be complete."

Well, it'll be over soon. Just a little longer. I should be happy about this, right? Let's just listen to what she has to say.

"Now that you're back with your teams, the last thing we want you to do is confide in each other. Please share one thing about yourselves that you normally wouldn't tell anyone. It can be something small like a secret you've never told anyone or something that's been weighing you down. Don't share anything you're not okay with talking about. We're not putting any pressure on you."

The last part of the assembly was off to a slow start, but everyone got on board in due time. My group was no exception. Again, we exchanged looks. But this time we were even more hesitant to start now more than ever.

After that cross-the-line bit, we all evidently harbored something deep in our lives. Something we were afraid of revealing. In a way, those statements exposed us. But not entirely. Now they wanted us to leave some bread crumbs, to elaborate…

Understandably, no one wanted to tell their secrets. We'd rather just keep it to ourselves.

But that wasn't the mission of the Kentō Association.

That wasn't why we were brought here this morning.

Surely, we all knew this by now.

After a long minute of sitting and refusing to talk, Yukimura finally took a stand.

"I'll go first…since the rest of you don't want to."

Yukimura looked at all of us hoping to receive our undivided attention. Yukimura was about to tell us something personal, something deeper than her dreams and her interests. The least we could do was show her some respect for having the courage to do so.

"My family is…" Yukimura took a deep breath.

"My family is at the center of a missing person's case. The person in question who disappeared was… The one who went missing was…"

Yukimura choked on the air, just barely getting her sentence out. She took deep breaths to calm her nerves, but it wasn't enough. She could only push forward and say what she wanted to get off of her chest.

"It was my older brother. No one's seen him in years. I miss him every day. Since my family runs a business tycoon, we try to keep the investigation a secret, so it doesn't draw any unwanted attention to us. But… It's just so hard…doing this every single day. I just miss him so much. I want him to come back to us."

Even now, Yukimura tried to maintain her composure, but we all saw her wiping away the tears that poured out of her eyes.

"Say no more, Yukimura. Let's just keep moving." Yozakura said.

When I heard that, I didn't think it was very comforting for Yukimura to be cut short. But was there anything more to say? Maybe it was for the best, lest Yukimura falls deeper into despair.

With that being said, we all shifted our heads towards Mitsuru. Since Yukimura got the ball rolling, we figured we would take turns going counterclockwise again, just like when we introduced ourselves. Mitsuru's eyes tossed and turned as she looked at us. She seemed nervous, but she was eventually willing to share.

"Um… I suppose I'll tell you something more…serious about myself. Um… The thing is…I was abandoned by my parents. I thought what we had was pretty solid, you know? Mom and Dad would greet me whenever I came home from school. We talked, we laughed, and we would eat dinner together. It was normal, everyday family stuff. One day, they just up and left me all alone. All I had to remember to them was the stash of money they had set aside for me…and the gallery of memories. I was constantly reminded of them by the wall of photos we made. There were pictures of my parents and all three of us in our happy moments. Those were good times."

As Mitsuru continued, she broke down. Her words stuttered and her eyes were filling up with tears.

"But you know, m-maybe it's better this way. It's a good thing that they left me behind. They're just trying to protect me. They're looking out for me. That's why they left the money for me. They left it because without them, I have no one else to turn to. B-but none of this would have happened if they hadn't gotten in over their heads with their cri…*hic*...their cr-crimes. They shouldn't have done it in the f-f-first place!"

Before Mitsuru could elaborate, Yozakura, her best friend, jumped in to save the day by offering his moral support.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Raiya! I think you should stop right there before you end up going too far. This subject is touchy enough as it is. You said all you need to for today. You did good."

Since he and Mitsuru were already acquainted, Yozakura may have known of Mitsuru's rough home life. He probably didn't want to see his friend in pain by sharing the sad truth of their reality, so that's why he stopped her.

I didn't know all the details, but Mitsuru's parents were definitely caught up in some shady business. My guess was that when things went south, they had to run. But they didn't want to get their only child involved. It's possible that the stash Mitsuru was given was actually dirty money, but her parents had to leave with her with something she could live on.

Huh.

To be abandoned by your parents, but for a good reason? Can't say I relate to that.

Mitsuru nudged her friend again using her fist, signaling that Yozakura was next in the circle. He took the hint and spoke without hesitation.

"I guess it's my turn now. Heh. Well, this is my story: I used to be homeless! And that's it!" Yozakura laughed.

Oddly enough, he wasn't overcome with emotion or brought to tears like Yukimura. He was as energetic as he was before when he talked about his dreams. He seemed…happy.

"Wha–? How can you say it so casually?" Ikebana asked.

"Well, that's just how it used to be. I was a hopeless street urchin who ended up getting shelter from a teacher. I'm not proud of the things that I did, but I had to survive. Without my teacher, I don't know where I'd be right now. I probably wouldn't have made it to this school…"

I see. So that lively attitude of his was just a mask. He was also hurting just like Yukimura. Yozakura's situation had a more positive ending, but that didn't mean he never stopped carrying the uncertainties of his past.

Suddenly, Yozakura patted my arm. But I shouldn't have been so surprised. It was coming anyway.

"Nagato, are you ready? It's your turn."

We didn't even have to share anything serious. Just a little secret or minor troubles. But in the end, everyone took the dramatic approach by baring their souls out in the open. Yukimura, Mitsuru, and Yozakura weren't the only ones who were troubled. Everyone in this room was telling all to their peers. I overheard stories I didn't want to hear.

"My family is in debt."

"I was born with a life-threatening disease."

"I lost a family member to alcoholism."

"I take depression medications."

They didn't have to be so honest about what was going on in their lives, and yet I had no choice but to sit through it. Such a feeling was suffocating. The closed-off students of Kentō Academy who had never spoken a word were now falling apart in front of each other. If I wasn't already uncomfortable, the activities of this assembly had become questionable.

'Why do I have to do this? Can't I just opt out? I don't wanna be here anymore.'

"Can you come back to me, please? I'm not ready to share mine yet."

The words suddenly came rushing out of my mouth before I even realized it. There was no way I could just spill my secrets to them. And I was still processing everyone's struggles. For the longest time, I thought my peers had it easy simply because of their backgrounds. The image I created for them was becoming distorted.

My teammates exchanged concerned glances, but ultimately they accepted my request. Then, they turned their heads to the next person in the circle, Ikebana.

"So, everyone's looking at me now, huh? I don't really want to do this either, but maybe it helps…to talk about things once in a while."

Ikebana lowered her head and focused on her hands resting in her lap. She was just like me. She even said it herself. Ikebana wasn't thrilled about talking about her problems either. I couldn't blame her. This session was intrusive and unwanted. No, not just that—this whole assembly was sprung on us with no warning. How were we supposed to prepare for this? I kept thinking about how we never should've been called to this assembly in the first place, but Ikebana's story pulled me out of my thoughts. She had a lot to say about her circumstances, just about the same amount as Mitsuru.

"Well, how should I put this? Heh. Actually, I don't think there's any other way I can put it. I'm the unloved child, plain and simple. My stepsister hates me and my stepbrothers ignore me. And every time I look into my stepmother's eyes, I can tell that even she despises me. But worst of all was my father. There was a time when he loved me as any parent would, but one day he started giving me the cold shoulder like everyone else. It was no different from my stepbrothers, but coming from him it felt even more painful. I always asked myself 'what did I ever do wrong?' All I ever wanted was for him to call me his daughter again and now he's… He's gone now."

Ikebana was visibly upset. Not once did she raise her head. Her eyes remained fixed on her lap with a furrowed brow the entire time.

"Our relationship was estranged, but I feel so lonely without him. There was always that glimmer of hope that he'd finally turn to look at me, and he'd be happy…or proud of me. But now I'll never get that chance again. I'll never know how he truly felt about me."

Oh great.

I can't believe I'm saying this.

I…understand how she feels. I know what it's like to be abandoned by a parent. But it's not like that's something I wanted to delve into any time soon.

Ikebana inhaled sharply as a teardrop streamed down to her cheek. She closed her eyes and tried to mimic Yukimura's cool-headed composure. At that moment, Ikebana finally lifted her head.

"Um, are you okay?" Shinohara asked.

Ikebana turned to the boy and reassured him.

"I'm fine. I've said all I needed to say, so I think it's your turn now."

"Mmm…okay." Shinohara groaned.

Shinohara was also reluctant to participate, mostly because of his timid nature. Even so, I'm sure a kid like him didn't mind sharing. He probably just wanted to feel included. Shinohara grasped his hands and shared his story.

"I'm a foster child. My parents chose my guardian Marina to take care of me when I was just a baby. I wanted a chance to meet them someday. As much as I wish for it to happen, it's already too late because my birth parents are dead. Sadly, they were…murdered. Back then they feared for their safety and gave me up to protect me, or so I've been told. Normally, I'd cry, but it's not like I can remember my parents. Although, I would like to know why they were murdered. I wonder who would ever want to harm them or if they had any enemies. Whenever I try to ask about what led to their murder, no one ever gives me a straight answer. Everyone always tries to dodge the question. It's like the adults in my life are keeping secrets from me. Maybe they're just keeping my best interests in mind, but I find it difficult to trust them when they avoid talking about my parents. I mean, I have a right to know the truth, don't I?"

Shinohara was a good kid. He was trying to find his voice and change the world. Who would have guessed he felt so skeptical towards adults? Then again, children can be pretty intuitive sometimes. They shouldn’t be underestimated.

Well, that was everyone.

By now, my perception of the students had completely shattered. It’s true that I didn't bother to learn who they were, but now it was painfully obvious that I didn't even have a clue about what made them distinct. My teammates and the rest of the freshmen students have all experienced hardships and trauma in some form or another. Their high-class backgrounds were irrelevant. In the end, none of us were rivals to compete against. From the very beginning, we just wanted to forget about the high-stakes prize we were working so hard to obtain. We wanted to become friends, talk about ourselves, and learn about others. For many, it was cathartic having finally been given that chance. I see that now, and yet I just couldn't do it. I simply didn't have it in me to break down and connect with others.

I have always kept to myself and done what's best for me. To have everyone's eyes fall upon you, expecting you to follow along was nothing but pressure. I pretended to join them for this long so I wouldn't seem like the oddball in the bunch, but there's a limit to how much I can take. I still had yet to take my turn, but I dreadfully hated the idea.

"Do I have to do this?" I asked again.

"Everyone already went, Nagato. So, now it's your turn. You should say something. It's only fair. It doesn't have to be anything super significant." Mitsuru replied.

"Yeah! Just say something like you wet the bed until the fifth grade. We won't judge!" Yozakura added.

"I never—ugh…"

At my breaking point, I decided it was better to just cave in and pull the weight off of my chest.

"Tsk. Alright fine, I give up. Happy now? I'm only gonna say it once, so listen up."

My mind was telling me to get it out of the way, but when I parted my lips, the words refused to come out. Even now, I was stuck amid an internal struggle. I just wanted to keep my mouth shut. I wanted to get through this without saying a word. Then, I could go back to class. Everything would go back to how it was and I could act like none of this ever happened. I could wish for that kind of outcome all I want, but after getting knee-deep into our insecurities, there was no turning back.

"Work… That's all I've ever done."

When I could finally speak, my voice was low. It was a whisper that no one else could hear. Perhaps you could say this was done on purpose. I wanted to avoid sharing desperately. I didn't want to talk about myself, but trying to oppose it was pointless. Eventually, Yozakura had to ask me to stop.

"What? We can't hear you, Nagato. Could you speak up?"

Oh my god…

This is already hard enough as it is. Can't they see that?

"........I'm the breadwinner of the household. Ever since I was young, I had to do what I could to take care of myself and my siblings. I took all sorts of odd jobs, whatever anyone would offer a kid. My mom is…disabled. She can't work in her condition. Since I'm the oldest, it's up to me to take care of everyone. I've always worked to take care of my family and give them a better future. I just want what's best for everybody…and myself as well."

The rest of the group paused, waiting to see if there was anything else I had to add.

Nothing.

Well, I could have said more. After all, that was only half of the story.

I didn't really tell them why I had to work to support my family. I didn't tell them the true catalyst of my troubles. They had already asked too much of me in the first place by asking me to share.

And with that, it was over.

The gym was still fresh with emotions. Some students were still crying, some were consoling them with hugs, and some were even smiling and laughing with each other. This experience truly helped the first-year students grow closer.

Once the room had settled down, Satomi took center stage one final time to give her closing statements.

"So what have you all learned today?"

A wave of murmurs swept through the gym. What did we learn? Are you telling me this assembly was supposed to teach us something? Well, duh. We discussed amongst ourselves before a student raised their hand in the air. Satomi approached a boy sitting near the middle of the gym and pointed her microphone at his face.

"Um, we all have something in common. Some of us like the same things and some of us don't. And we've all had our fair share of hardships. I feel like I understand some of my classmates a lot better now."

The boy quietly sat back in his chair. His eyes darted around the room, nervous that he had just embarrassed himself in front of everyone. However, the other kids chose not to laugh at him. Little did he know his words would spur the others into sharing their thoughts as well.

"We actually get along pretty well. My teammates turned out to be a lot nicer than I'd thought they'd be."

"We should try talking to each other more often."

Well, there you have it.

I'd say that the Kentō Association achieved its goal today. Now that it's over, I can give my thoughts. The order of this assembly felt oddly strewn together, I must say. It’s like they had ideas of how they wanted to get their message across, but the execution was choppy at times. It was their first outing after all, so I should probably be more forgiving. They have plenty of time to refine their craft.

"Wonderful! Wonderful! Simply wonderful!" Satomi clapped.

"You know I'm proud of you all today. We all are. It takes a lot of courage to do what you did. You still have a long way to go, but it's a start. At this rate, you'll even become best buddies by the end of the year. Oh, I hope so! Oh hi, Principal…. Here you go!"

As Satomi wrapped up her speech, Principal Kagemori returned to take the microphone. I had almost forgotten that he was in the gym, as well as our teachers, acting as silent observers while also taking part on the sidelines. Principal Kagemori cleared his throat and began delivering his final thoughts that would close out the assembly.

"Ahem. Thank you. Everyone here is proud of the efforts you have made here today. Your teachers and myself included. From now on, the academy is moving in a different direction. We want this movement to change our attitudes towards how we interact with others. You can confide in the people around you. We're putting an end to this every man for himself ideology, so don't hesitate to reach out. Ask for help whenever you need to. That said, the honor of Valedictorian still looms over everybody's heads. You all have your reasons for wanting to earn the title. You all have goals that you want to fulfill, just as you have shared today. Please, I urge you not to let your pursuit of the Valedictorian title be the only thing that drives you throughout your time here at Kentō Academy."

Huh?

Why is the principal pleading with us? This was a pretty standard closing speech. But now…the principal seems so gloomy all of a sudden.

Oh, that's right.

I remember Principal Kagemori mentioning something about regret earlier. If he's calling on us to pull away from our studies once in a while, then I wonder if this assembly's purpose runs deeper than just building relationships.

"Year after year, I've seen too many students get crushed beneath the weight of their expectations, whether it be their own or ones imposed upon them. I don't want that for you, your upperclassmen, or the students who will attend this academy in the future. If you could, please take some time to find happiness with others. Make friends and lean on each other. We're all a team… Thank you."

Principal Kagemori gently bowed to us and passed the mic back to the vice-principal.

"You are now dismissed. Please line up with your teachers waiting for you near the exit."

We all did as we were told. We got out of our chairs and left to regroup with our teachers. Along the way, there was hugging and waving goodbye. I didn't understand. It's not like they would never see their teammates again. As I kept walking, Yukimura caught up with me.

Oh right.

The two of us were teammates and classmates. I felt her eyes scanning me as we walked along. I don't know why, but I suddenly felt compelled to return her gaze.

"So, what did you think of the assembly? What did you make of all of this?" Yukimura asked.

"It was fine…I guess."

Yukimura didn't add any further comment, and neither did I. Instead we made our way to our homeroom teacher in silence. Even though it was nothing but a simple question, it was exactly the type of awkward interaction that I wanted to avoid. I had no idea how I was going to look at Yukimura or the rest of my classmates after what transpired this morning.

When I caught up with my homeroom teacher, I found Mr. Manpai with his signature gentle smile. It looked like Mr. Manpai was giving us some freedom by letting us freely choose where to go.

He was kind like that.

But in the end, my classmates had lined up by seat order since that's what they were used to.

One by one, every class left the gym. Rows of students marched the hallways single file and promptly returned to their respective homerooms. It would be so much easier if I could say we all went about our lives, following our daily routine as usual.

But it wasn't that simple anymore.

Today's assembly left a lasting impression on us that would forever change our lives in ways we never would've imagined.