How to Overthrow a School

How to Overthrow a School by Haruko Arakawa

Here's a disconcertingly brief summary: Haruko wrote a manifesto.

Why did Haruko write a manifesto? Well, according to her manifesto, it seemed Haruko had some disagreements regarding the whole school thing. Dangerously wild disagreements. Frankly speaking, nothing Haruko had written was overtly harmful. Sure, some debate could be had about a couple of her claims. A few would be decisively disproven within mere seconds, but for the most part, it all made sense.

The problem, however, was her language. As if disagreeing were an attack on the fundamental values of bettering society. As if to question her meant siding with a system whose sole goal is to diminish the potential of a generation. As if there were only one truth available to anyone reading: The school system (and those who run it) are evil.

By the end of her long-winded attempt to convince the reader, Haruko described the most optimal process to enact change. Belief. Specifically, belief in Haruko.

Near the bottom of the page, she included three words in bold. A larger font than the rest, even the title. I am God.

You needn't believe my claim. You need only believe in me. Change is forged from the beliefs of many and the actions of few. I am willing to act, therefore you must be willing to believe. While you cannot do much on your own, together we can. Through the changes in our beliefs, we can create changes to the system. As the narrative shifts towards believing in change, someone will make that change.

The school will prohibit me from running for student council president. They fear the truth of my words and they will silence me. School was created as a place for free-thinking and the world adopted it as an indoctrination into a society that values obedient workers.

If you believe nothing can be done, nothing will be done. If you believe in me, we will surely make a difference. For those willing to take action alongside me, I ask for something small: Vote for Haruko Arakawa, not in spite of my inability to run, but because of my inability to run. Show the school what kind of person you REALLY want to be in charge.

And then it ended. Below the text, a cute cartoon version of Haruko waved at me. I'd never seen something so out of place in my life.

What the hell did I just read?

"Do you like it?"

The voice came from beside my ear as if a ghost had snuck up behind me. It was Sato.

"Oh my God, don't scare me like that," I said.

"I thought you'd noticed me."

"Huh? How long were you standing there for?"

"Five minutes."

How did Sato hover over my shoulder for the past five minutes without making a single noise? Maybe she was a ghost after all.

"So, do you like it?" Sato asked again.

"I'm not totally sure what to think of it…" I said.

"Oh. I mean, I put a lot of effort…" Sato grumbled.

You were talking about the website?

"No, no, I meant Haruko's writing. The website was very well put together. Chibi Haruko at the bottom was especially cute," I said.

"Hmm…" Sato scanned me from top to bottom, supposedly in an attempt to discern the truth behind my words. As a lie detection method, I was unsure how effective it would be.

"I thought Haruko wanted to run for student council? Why is she throwing that away?"

"She never specified. All she told me was to put it on the website."

"And you didn't question her at all?"

"I used to ask why she did the things she did. The answer was always 'because that's what I want to do' so I stopped asking."

"But now she won't be able to get elected…" Unless. "Couldn't you change the text to something else?"

"I suppose, but I won't. Haruko only desired to run for president, I don't believe she wanted to win. To change her message would be the same as denying her the ability to run in the first place."

I didn't realize Sato could talk so much.

"Still, the entire school is going to see it…" I said.

"Yes. Exciting, don't you think?"

"Exciting? More like horrifying. Won't this be a problem? Especially for me and Haruko. I'm in the same class as her. Oh God, what's Fujiwara going to think? What's the rest of the class going to think? I already get weird looks talking to her, at this rate no one's going to look at me ever again…"

"You seem quite perplexed."

Duh! It's my high school life we're talking about here, obviously, I'm going to be perplexed!

"I don't think you have much reason to worry, though," Sato said.

"Huh?"

"You don't hate Haruko because of this, do you?"

"Well, no."

"Then, does it matter what your classmates think of you?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Is this a trick question?"

Sato smirked and looked away, placing a hand over her mouth and letting out a puff of air from her nose. A more audible giggle swiftly followed.

Are you laughing at me?

"Sorry, I didn't expect you to be so unsure about this kind of thing. It makes me feel better," she said.

"How could that possibly make you feel better?" Are you a sadist or something?

Sato nodded carefully. "You usually look so sure of yourself. I would have guessed you knew exactly who you wanted to be, but here you are, concerned with classmates' opinions. It's refreshing," Sato looked up to the sky. She was looking at the moon. "I became friends with Haruko in the first place because she always seemed so sure of herself, I thought maybe it would rub off on me."

Haruko didn't used to be sure of herself, I can tell you that.

"What are you unsure about?" I asked.

"Who I am."

"You don't know?"

Sato glanced back at me. "Do you?"

Sorry, can't help you there.

"If Haruko has taught me anything, you're thinking about it too much," she said. "You likely don't have anything to worry about. Put some thought towards your classmates and you'll see what I mean."

So, am I thinking too much or do I have to put more thought into it?

"The solution is already within you, I can tell." Sato looked to the moon once again. "Shall we get going?"

"Oh, yeah. I've got to get home before my parents—"

My phone interrupted me as if planned by otherworldly forces. A bone-chilling text message from my dad: Where are you?