Saori Part 3

 Saori drops off her serving platter in the kitchen before making her way to the auditorium. Rotating her shoulders, she works out the stiffness in her arm muscles as she silently traverses the corridors. A few other students walk ahead of Saori, on their way to the same location. The tension in the air is stifling. Everyone lost in their own thoughts—this is the moment that every student at the Ito Institute waits for.

The trickle of teens enter the backstage area of the auditorium, where Institute staff are waiting, only a few of which Saori recognizes. There’s the bulky physical trainer Mr. Kumagai, the elegant etiquette teacher Ms. Sano, and even the elderly headmistress herself, Lady Ishida. Saori spies a particular teacher, instantly recognizable by the port-wine stain birthmark on her cheek, a woman by the name of Nao Mori.

Consisting of bare concrete floors and steel scaffolding, the room lacks any character whatsoever. There are no backgrounds, stage props, or racks of costumes, seeing as the auditorium has never once been used for a theatrical production—that was never it’s intended purpose. Bright LEDs illuminate the space, providing too much light, like a lamp aimed directly at the face of a hospital patient strapped to an operating table.

A staff member asks for each student’s name as they enter the backstage area, referencing the holoscreeen of his AD before bluntly stating a number and gesturing to the back of the room, where a grid of numbered squares are painted on the concrete floor. When it is Saori’s turn, the man notices her armband and doesn’t even bother to ask for her name.

“Seventeen.”

Saori promptly takes her place in the corresponding square. The red box and matching lettering within have a faded industrial look, made by spray-painting a stencil on the ground, recognizable from the overspray.

She patiently waits as more and more students file into the backstage area and take their places. When she arrived, there were only a few students in the squares, but the spaces are steadily filling. There are thirty squares total in the grid, arranged in five rows of six, but none of the new arrivals take a square with a higher number than Saori’s, leaving the spot to her right perpetually empty.

The students are tired after having worked all day to set up, and then operate, the Graduation Dance, but the excitement for what is about to transpire keeps everyone awake. Many students are rocking back and forth on the balls of their feet or fidgeting in one way or another as they are scrutinized by the Institute staff. The room is very quiet, save for the murmurings of said staff, or whenever a number is stated by the teacher at the door. Saori mostly watches Nao, hoping to get her attention, but the teacher never looks her way.

A tall boy wearing the silver armband wordlessly takes his place in the number “16” square to the left of Saori. He stands with his hands held behind his back, exemplifying discipline. A pretty girl with a bronze armband joins the grid soon after, standing in the 15th square to Shouta’s right. She gives Saori a friendly smile, which Saori returns with her own tired one.

The three stand in professional silence. Saori eventually frowns slightly, the sadness visibly seeping into her eyes. It’s ironic—she’s pretty sure these two are the closest thing she has to friends by now, besides maybe Nao Mori, having gotten to know them over the years, if only through competition.

Eventually, the last student takes their place within the grid and the staff member at the door nods to Lady Ishida. She steps forward, clasping gloved hands behind her back, and addresses the assembled teens in an authoritative, unenthusiastic tone.

“Congratulations. You are the top students of the middle school program this year, making you the very best that the Institute has to offer. You have done well to make it this far. If you are acquired tonight, then your debt to the Institute will be payed, and you will begin a new life serving the Lord or Lady that purchased your debt. If you are not selected tonight, do not worry; you will be remanded to the high school program here at the Institute and continue your training.”

One of the other staff members whispers something into her ear, to which the headmistress pauses her speech, before nodding. The teacher that whispered to her starts quietly directing the other staff, who disperse while the headmistress continues.

“The auction will start momentarily. Here, the other teachers and staff will prepare you for the stage. When your number is called, please head through those doors,” she indicates a set of double doors opposite the ones that Saori entered the room through, “and on to the stage. When the bidding for you has ended, regardless of the outcome, exit stage left. There, you will receive further instructions. Again, congratulations,” she starts a short round of applause with the other staff, “and good luck to you all.” When she finishes clapping she quickly exits the room, heading through the doors and on to the auditorium stage.

The other Institute staff descend on the first row of students in the grid, going from person to person, fixing hair and adjusting red ties, white shirts and black skirts. With the headmistress gone, the students whisper congratulations and encouragement to each other. While the staff would usually frown on this, they understand that it may be the last time they get to see each other. Some of the teachers even participate, wishing their students well for what might be the last time.

The girl with the bronze armband looks around the boy standing next to her, getting Saori’s attention with a cute wave. “Congrats Saori! Looks like this will probably be the last time we see each other. I’m going to miss you!”

“Thanks Yui. Congratulations to you as well,” Saori responds politely, not really believing the girl.

Yui directs her charming smile to the boy, elbowing him gently in the arm. “Congrats to you too, Shouta!” He silently nods his head in acknowledgement, preferring not to speak.

“Don’t you have anything to say to your favorite hothead?” she says sarcastically, indicating Saori with her dark-brown eyes.

Without looking at Saori, he speaks with a slight country accent, “Shur—if I never see you agin, it’ll be too soon, Syori.”

She smiles arrogantly, understanding Shouta’s disdain for her, but before she can reply the headmistress’ voice projects from a speaker placed in the corner of the room, slightly more enthusiastic now as she addresses the Lords and Ladies gathered in the auditorium.

“Good evening and welcome to the Ito Institute’s Graduation Auction! As this is probably the first experience with an auction for most of you, we at the Institute would like to provide you with a brief overview of the process. Please open your AD and access the bidding page.” She pauses a moment, so the teens in the audience can follow her instructions.

“Bidding will start at a set amount, determined by the Ito Institute, which you will see on your holoscreen. The first individual that bids must start at this amount. In order to place a bid, you must clearly state the number, in increments of one-hundred dollars, to the auctioneer. Any further bids from other parties must be at least one-hundred dollars higher than the preceding bid. If there are no further bids, the auctioneer will signal three times before the auction for that lot ends for good. You may proceed to the annex at any time to finalize your acquisition of the lot.”

“Additionally, we at the Ito Institute wish to advise you to be fully confident in the lot you wish to acquire before placing a bid and to only bid if you intend to acquire the lot. Do not bid simply to inflate the price, as you may be the one stuck with it. Most importantly, and this may seem obvious, but do not bid more BOX dollars than you have, as you will fall into debt with the Ito Institute if you happen to win the lot. Good luck.”

The audience’s meager applause can be heard before a stronger voice, probably belonging to the auctioneer, informs them that the auction will begin shortly. Saori thinks that, judging from the weak clapping, there must be no more than a dozen or so aristocrats in the auditorium. It was probably going to be a tough market tonight.

By now, the Institute staff are tidying up the second row of students in the grid. Saori watches them work, paying extra attention to Nao, who is dutifully combing out the long hair of the girl standing in front of her. A few minutes later, the auction begins.

“Alright, Ladies and Lords, let the Graduation Auction begin! Lot One!”

A small girl standing in the first box makes her way through the double doors and on to the stage.

“Lot One: Chika Ishida. The starting bid is $151,300.” There is a long pause as he waits for the audience to respond, but no one speaks up. Sensing disinterest, the auctioneer tries to stir up some appeal, “She is an expert with knives, especially the Mark II, and can throw the weapon with great accuracy. Coupled with her small size, Lot One would be an excellent fit for the assassin role in any Circuit team.”

Still, the audience remains silent. Soari notes that the auctioneer doesn’t mention Chika’s practice-match win rate, which is barely higher than fifty percent, if Saori remembered correctly.

“No interested parties? Last chance…” he waits for a few long seconds before ending the bidding with a knock. “Moving on then—Lot Two!”

The cycle repeats itself for the next four students, ending in zero acquisitions. Despite the prices rising only slightly, due to a lack of skill or a subpar impression made at the dance, the first five students in total leave the auditorium unclaimed, but that changes with Lot Six.

“$185,000!” shouts a new voice from the audience, matching the starting bid as soon as it is stated.

“We have $185,000!” the auctioneer cheers excitedly, having finally found a bidder. “Can I get $186,000,” he asks rhetorically. “$186,000?”

No one else bids, prompting the auctioneer to start counting down. “Lot Six, going once,” he pauses for effect, “going twice… SOLD!”

Lot Seven takes the stage soon after, but Saori is distracted from the auction when Nao Mori finally steps into her square, the teachers having finished sprucing up the second row of students and moved on to the third. The first thing the teacher does is draw Saori into a tight embrace, which the teen eagerly returns once she recovers from her initial shock. Eventually, the teacher pulls away, returning to a state of professionalism as she checks over Saori’s hair. Saori’s eyes are drawn to the wide blotch of red skin on her right cheek.

“Congratulations.” Nao says in a gentle voice.

“It’s good to see you again…Nao.” Saori is unsure of how to address her, considering their past, but the older girl doesn’t correct her.

The girl with the long hair, Lot Eleven, exits the room, leaving the square ahead of Saori vacant. Saori waits quietly as Nao carefully combs through her hair and adjusts her uniform. When she finishes her task, Ms. Mori rests her hands on Saori’s shoulders, surveying her work. Finding an errant strand of hair, she fixes it back in place. “You’ve grown up. Isn’t it amazing how much someone can change in only six years?”

Noticing the bags under Saori’s eyes, she raises one of her hands to cup the teen’s cheek, brushing a thumb affectionately under her eye. “You look tired.”

Saori looks dejected as she remembers what happened following Nao’s high school graduation. “A lot can happen in six years.” Wanting to change the subject, she continues, “Where have you been? I didn’t know you were a teacher here.”

“Well, after my secondary graduation, I was sent to an outside college to study teaching. I returned to the Ito Institute two years ago. I wanted to teach in the middle school program, but I was assigned to the high school program instead.”

“I’m surprised you’re here then,” Soari responds, “isn’t this still considered to be the middle school program?”

“The Graduation Dance is an exception, seeing as it bridges the gap between the two programs. In fact, most of the staff here are from the high school program,” she smiles. “Besides, I wouldn’t miss the opportunity to see you again.”

“Thanks, Nao.”

The gears in Saori’s head begin to turn. “You said you returned two years ago? By any chance, did you attend last year’s graduation as well?

“I did,” she laughs, “there were a lot more graduates, that’s for sure. In fact, we had even less staff attend last year compared to this year. That’s why there are so many—“

“Did you see Mitsuko?”

“Lot Fifteen!”

Yui leaves her position in the grid with a wave and a smile to Shouta. The other teachers, having finished prepping the last row of students, retreat to the other side of the room, talking quietly amongst themselves again.

“Mitsuko made her choice,” Ms. Mori responds coldly, knowing the reason behind Saori’s question, “and thankfully you didn’t go along with her foolish decision.”

“But you saw what happened to her—what she became following her choice.” Saori’s angry response is barely more than a whisper.

Ms. Mori’s formerly caressing hand now grips Saori’s face, her palm covering the girl’s mouth. She leans in very close, dark eyes boring into Saori’s own bloodshot ones. Her whispered response leaves no room for debate, “She. Made. Her. Choice. Saori. She betrayed the Institute. What did you think would happen?”

“Lot Sixteen!”

Shouta is so focused on the confrontation occurring right next to him that he doesn’t realize his number has been called.

“Lot Sixteen, Shouta Ogawa!” Mr. Kumagai yells, getting the boy’s attention, as well as shocking the two girls from their stare down. He runs from the room, embarrassed that he was distracted by the drama.

Ms. Mori slowly removes her hand from Saori’s face, her once zealous stare now tinged with sadness. “I wanted this to be a moment of celebration, not accusations…” She sighs, closing her eyes and massaging her temple, as if she were being forced to deal with a small child. “Why did you have to lose your cool now? You do know that I can have your graduation recalled, right?”

“Whatever,” Saori replies bitterly, rubbing her face where Ms. Mori had grabbed her. Despite the teacher’s threat, she isn’t scared at all—at this point, she’s willing to bet that even the Headmistress herself wouldn’t pull her from the graduation auction. “I should have known better than to talk to you about this.”

“Lot Seventeen!”

Saori turns and walks to the double-doors without another word, leaving Ms. Mori in her dust. The teacher watches the girl disappear through the doors with a look of disappointment, but mostly sadness. So much for a friendly final farewell.