Palette (Part 2)

I gently swirled the glass in my hand as I listened to Tetsuya and Shibata chatter noisily with the girls.

The coffee sloshed around in the cup, leaving plenty of residue on the sides.

It gathered into droplets, then flowed back down to the bottom.

I took a small sip of my coffee and closed my eyes halfway.

The coffee enveloped my mouth, gently tantalizing my taste buds.

When I first came in, I'd wondered why this café was called Palette.

Perhaps you had to taste its drinks to understand the name.

Take the latte in my hand, for example.

First came the slight bitterness of coffee, followed by the rich creaminess of milk, which filled my mouth.

It was like holding a palette in my hands. The colors were the very ones I'd expected to collide, yet the blend, balanced just right, struck a chord deep within me.

Like an artist painting as the mood struck, everyone would have their own unique impression of it.

Perhaps this feeling suited my personality.

Drifting carefree, lost in my own world.

Following my own ideas and acting on them, without the slightest concern for what other people thought.

Did that make me seem selfish and cold? But surely most of my existence was about making myself happy.

I'm me first, and a person second.

First, I make myself happy, then I fulfill my duties as a human being.

That's only my own point of view. I wouldn't ignore the emotions other people stirred in me, either.

But I'd be more particular about what came first and what came second.

A refined egoist?

I didn't think I was that kind of person. I didn't want to become one, either.

People grew and changed. Maybe someday I'd meet someone whose every action would command my attention.

I was looking forward to it, but I couldn't help feeling a little afraid, too.

"Seisuke, you still haven't joined our class chat, have you?"

Tetsuya, who'd been joining in the conversation, suddenly leaned over and asked in a low voice.

"And you haven't even added me as a friend. It's such a pain trying to get in touch with you."

"I had something urgent to take care of this afternoon, so I left early. Sorry."

"No worries. We can add each other now."

I took my mobile device out of my pocket and exchanged contact information with Tetsuya.

"Ichinose."

"Huh!? What is it?"

"I don't think we've exchanged contact information yet. Would you mind if I added you?"

I held out my mobile device.

"Sure."

Ichinose took my device and tapped at the screen for a while before handing it back.

"Ichinose, do you... really like dogs?"

"Hajima-kun, what makes you ask that? I do like puppies, actually."

"I can tell."

I nodded in agreement.

"You can tell? How?"

Ichinose seemed curious.

"You've got a huge golden retriever as your profile picture. It's obvious you like dogs."

I pointed to the conspicuous dog's face on my mobile device.

"That's not me!"

Ichinose scrunched up her nose and put on an angry face.

"But your name's right there in the chat, isn't it? Isn't that meant to remind me who you are?"

Beneath the golden retriever's profile picture was a line of self-introduction.

"I'm Ichinose Honami. I look forward to getting along with you!"

"That's not me! The other one is."

Ichinose stared at the profile picture for a moment, then pulled out her own mobile device.

If this wasn't Ichinose, and I'd only added two people, then it could only be...

I glanced at Tetsuya Hamaguchi, sitting ramrod straight beside me.

Come on, he could barely keep the grin off his face, yet he was still forcing himself not to say a word, quietly swiping at his mobile device.

This guy...

He sure was lively.

Without joining in the group conversation, I opened my mobile device by myself.

Tapping the profile picture brought up the basic information on the user's page, such as a brief introduction and details like their zodiac sign or age.

Ichinose's birthday was July 20.

By my calculations, it fell during summer vacation. I could already imagine what a lively party it would be.

How was I supposed to spend a two-month summer vacation? Just thinking about it made it seem like a long time.

Maybe I wouldn't have to worry about things like that when the time came. They weren't something I needed to fret over now, but once I got absorbed in a thought, my mind would wander off in every direction.

Ichinose had originally wanted to drag me along to dinner with everyone, but I turned her down, saying I was full from the afternoon tea snacks.

I lay on my bed. I'd already tidied up the dorm room.

I hadn't expected to buy so many things. Although a lot of what Ichinose had picked out wasn't essential, they really were useful.

It was called a school dormitory, but I had to hand it to a place backed by the country: even the single rooms came with a kitchen and a small living room.

So well-equipped. It felt like every detail had been taken care of.

Leaning against the headboard, I picked up the "materials" I'd bought that afternoon.

They were supposed to be new student records. Why was the Student Council even allowed to put a price on them?

I'd assumed that the things you couldn't buy on campus were mostly matters like disciplinary points, punishments, school openings, or other transactions between students and the school.

But getting materials that were practically intelligence from Manabu Horikita gave me an entirely different impression.

Thinking back, everything about this school, from the very beginning until now, had seemed unusually generous and different.

Every month, it provided Personal Points worth 100,000 yen. Students were confined to campus for the duration of their enrollment. It boasted a near-perfect rate of advancement to higher education and employment, and its facilities were extravagantly well-equipped. There was a shopping district that could rival Ginza, single rooms in the dormitory, and an unparalleled degree of freedom.

Any one of those things, taken by itself, seemed like too much. I could accept it if it were all thanks to government support or something.

But it didn't make sense.

What I meant was:

I would've thought it normal if there were some restrictions in exchange for all these benefits.

It felt like a massive net was being spread out, ready to ensnare the new students.

Why would Manabu Horikita do something that went against the school's intentions?

I couldn't quite understand it, but whatever his plan was, he couldn't carry it out without stirring things up.

I spread out the materials and took out the one for Class 1-D.

What Shibata-kun had said today had left a deep impression on me.

It was what the second-year student had said while mocking the red-haired student from Class D: something about Class D being defective goods.

So why was Class D called a collection of rejects? If they were nothing but rejects, what was the point of entering this school?

Were they just stepping-stones?

I quickly dismissed the idea.

What if there was another possibility...

What if we were the stepping-stones?

If they were obviously just a bunch of nobodies, who would expect them to shine?

I spread out the file on Class 1-D and began skimming through it.

After a moment's thought, I took out the file on Class A, too.

The school's evaluation covered a lot of areas.

Academic ability, intelligence, judgment, physical ability, and teamwork.

There was also an interview section completed by the examiners.

The students in Class A were stronger overall, but I couldn't find anything particularly remarkable in the interview section.

If anything, the students in Class D stood out too much in that area.

Suzune Horikita. I admitted I'd taken an interest in her because of her surname.

Was she related to Manabu Horikita? I tried to find some hint of it in the file.

She had no weaknesses aside from teamwork. She was clearly the girl who raised Class D's average.

(Academic ability: A, intelligence: A-, judgment: B-, physical ability: B+, teamwork: E)

But it seemed that the weak point in her otherwise well-rounded profile stood out too much, so that alone had gotten her assigned to Class D.

If she were related to Manabu Horikita, surely there wouldn't be such a glaring failure on her record.

Manabu Horikita's face involuntarily came to mind.

He seemed somewhat cold and detached.

But there was no reason to doubt his teamwork. His stiff expression was simply a result of his personality.

Still, she was solid evidence for my theory that Class D wasn't just a collection of rejects and stepping-stones.

A girl who'd received the highest rating in teamwork and had no obvious weaknesses in any other area.

"An excellent student who, at first glance, seemed to have no issues." That line had piqued my curiosity.

The interviewer's evaluation read: "Her academic and physical abilities are on par with those of Class B. She has had exceptionally good social skills since junior high and has been very popular in every grade. However, based on certain facts recorded in other materials, we decided to assign her to Class D."

So what on earth had happened to get a student who could've entered Class B moved to a problem class?

Kushida Kikyo.

I silently memorized the girl's name.

Class D was like a group made up of countless problem students. I didn't know whether they could turn things around, but as things stood, they were a real headache.

I suddenly felt a deep respect for Class D's homeroom teacher. If she put her heart into managing the class, perhaps they wouldn't end up as helpless as the second-years.

I didn't know the details about the upperclassmen, but there was no ignoring how the second-years at the entrance ceremony had seemed surrounded by admirers, nor the way they'd looked down on and mocked the bottom-ranked class.

How long was it going to take to read all this? I tossed the materials beside the bed and pulled the covers over my head.

Then I noticed a string of numbers on one of the pages tucked in the middle.

Whose number was it?

I tried calling it, and the other person picked up almost immediately.

"Manabu Horikita speaking. Who is this?"

"It's Hajime Kashima."

Apparently taken by surprise, he fell silent for a moment and didn't answer.

"This call came sooner than I expected. What do you want?"

He'd left me his number of his own accord, but he was still acting as if nothing had happened.

"Sorry to bother you so late. There's something I'd like to confirm."

I was just about to get straight to the point when he interrupted me.

"I see. No need to rush... Have you heard about what I've done?"

"Honestly, other than the little Secretary Tachibana told me today, I haven't had a chance to ask around."

Manabu Horikita let out a quiet sigh, then spoke.

"I originally came to this school hoping to change a few things, but now it seems nothing is going the way I expected."

I was having trouble following him. If this were President Horikita, I didn't think he'd be so vague.

Was it not the right time to reveal more?

For now, I decided to take it that way.

"This school isn't as simple as it looks. You've sensed that too, haven't you?"

"That's why I was thinking of looking around and gathering information. I didn't expect to run into Secretary Tachibana."

"So you just gave yourself away?"

"Would anything I say change how you understand the situation?"

I asked in return.

A quiet laugh came from the other end of the line.

"So what do I need to do? Maybe information like the enrollment files isn't worth much by itself, but right after admission, the mere existence of those files is more valuable than their contents."

They'd let me draw a number of conclusions and confirmed several of my guesses, while giving rise to even more ideas.

"You speak in very practical terms. You understand what someone in a position of power wants, and you seem to have given them plenty, both in your attitude and in your actions."

I didn't reply, quietly waiting for him to continue.

"No rush. The right time hasn't come yet."

"You want to see what I'm capable of? But you should understand that next time, you might not be the one in control of the conversation."

"Maybe. But I need the right people to do the right things."

What was he so concerned about? Was it that second-year student?

I said nothing, and the other end of the line fell silent as well.

(Manabu Horikita)

Two years had passed. I'd thought that as long as Suzune was away from me, she wouldn't look up to me in everything like she had when we were children, imitating my every move like a puppet on strings.

When I grew cold toward her, she began learning to treat everyone that way.

I admit it. I lied.

I said I liked long hair, and even now, seeing Suzune again, she still wore her hair long.

Two years had passed, and my younger sister, whom I'd hoped would become independent, hadn't changed at all.

I'd finally realized that running away wasn't going to help.

If I wanted to change her personality, I had to first change my own attitude and way of thinking.

Because I was her older brother.

I'd failed in my duty by not guiding her properly as she grew up, despite all the time that had passed.

No matter how much I didn't want to show it, I cared about her deeply.

But I didn't even know how to face her now...