Heart-Pounding Cultural Festival

Lunchtime.

Tae-il stopped by the Animal Husbandry Club to check on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Yuuya and the animals, then pulled up the videos they had posted to iTube and TokTik.

"I want to cry..."

"Ah, ahaha. Don't cry, senpai. It's all right."

Yuuya's eyes had gone glassy, and Tae-il hurried to comfort her.

It was a video she had edited with everything she had. The quality outstripped anything she posted on her own channel. Everyone who saw it said so. And yet a full week had passed, and the results she had actually reaped were anything but satisfying.

"Views in the fifteen hundreds..."

Even that number existed only because people who had caught the video that barely managed to go up on TokTik first had bothered to react. On iTube, their home ground, they had not even cleared a thousand.

"And the comments are nothing but weird ads..."

"Haha. Want me to report them?"

"Yeah..."

Tae-il blocked every harassing comment and every piece of promotional spam under Iris's self-introduction video. Yuuya hugged both knees and curled herself into a ball.

"M-maybe we really should make separate official accounts on Bluebird and StarIn and run those too...?"

"Yeah. I'd recommend it."

Anything you set up will prove useful someday. That was Yuuya's creed.

"Still, the difference from not getting the algorithm's blessing is a lot bigger than I thought."

"Yeah..."

Tae-il pulled up the busking video that had already passed five hundred thousand views on TokTik.

"This really stings..."

Set beside that one, the view count on their own video was so pathetic it left a bitter taste.

"Can't be helped. The real watershed comes after the Cultural Festival."

"Did the application go through all right?"

"Asakura-sensei took care of it in a single day."

"How?"

"Senpai, do you know Takahashi-sensei? The music teacher."

"The guardian spirit of the regular music room...?"

"Yes. Sensei thinks pretty well of us."

It had only been a few weeks of teaching, but Takahashi was Ayane's teacher as well.

"The Cultural Festival stage is pretty heavily swayed by the music teachers, you know? Honestly, calling in the alumni orchestra and the band club is all teacher connections."

"I had no idea."

Yuuya, who had nothing but bad memories of the Cultural Festival, blinked as if she had just heard something marvelous. Tae-il caught it, smiled with easy confidence, and jabbed a thumb at his own chest.

"Haha. This year's Cultural Festival is definitely going to be fun. I'll make ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sure of it."

"...Thanks."

Looking at her commendable junior, Yuuya smiled faintly.

"But..."

"Was there something else you wanted to ask?"

"What's Tae-il's class doing for its show?"

"Ah..."

The class show. The flower of the Cultural Festival — a set piece no school story could ever do without. Tae-il's face darkened in an instant.

"Tae-il...?"

"Well, you see..."

Tae-il stared off at the far mountains.

The incident went back a few days.

"All right, everyone. Good work on midterms."

Thud!

The homeroom teacher — who, going by looks alone, was a blond delinquent and nothing else — slammed the podium with a fierce expression.

"But it's too early to relax! Why? Because the Cultural Festival is coming!"

"UWOOOOH!"

Class 7 roared as one, a shout that welled up from the gut.

"Brace yourselves. War is about to begin."

"UWOOOOOH!"

The shout swelled even louder. At this point it was a roar. A moment later the exact same cry came from the classroom next door.

"UWOOOOOOOOH!!!!!"

"Already starting a contest of spirit? Can't be helped. Everyone — battle cry, aimed at Class 8...!"

"UWOOOOOOOOOOOH!!!!!!"

Tae-il plugged his ears.

In the original, the Cultural Festival was told entirely around the protagonist's band, so even he knew little about it. The original Ayane had paid no mind to whatever was happening around her even then, savoring her solitude behind a gloomy aura. The anime at least sketched a little of it... Had the Liberal Class always been this fanatical about the Cultural Festival? Tae-il's memory was hazy.

"Down with Class 8! We can lose to the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠other classes! But Class 8 — we must never lose to them!"

The students answered their teacher's shout in unison. The teachers did not get along. Watching the whole spectacle from the back of the classroom as a student teacher, Sera remembered the cold war in the faculty room and let a wry smile slip out before she could stop it.

"Good! In that spirit, we will first elect our vanguard and our leader — the Cultural Festival executive!"

Silence.

The world had gone quiet, as if everyone had suddenly become Helen Keller. Whatever that uproar of a moment ago had been, silence seized the classroom in a heartbeat. The homeroom teacher swallowed a groan.

"Ghk—! I know! I know an executive, as the face of the class, gets hounded day and night by the public morals committee and the student council...!"

He clutched his chest as if he might tear it open and wailed, tragic to the last.

"But we need one...! A shield to protect our class from those vicious outside forces...!"

In short, an executive was a middle-management punching bag.

Well, I'm busy watching the kids practice anyway. This is a pain. Maybe I'll just sit still and ditch...

A troublesome honorary post that came with nothing but responsibility was something he would politely decline. From ancient times, a person who simply stayed quiet could get through half of anything. Tae-il immediately killed his presence.

But—

"Sensei, me! I'll take the executive position!"

"Huh?"

The blow landed from somewhere he had never expected.

"Ooh, Sakuraba! As expected of Class 7's pillar...!"

Clap, clap, clap!

Enthusiastic applause for brave Sakuya broke out all over the classroom.

"S-Sakuya...?"

Tae-il was flustered. For people preparing a stage, the executive post was nothing but a nuisance. And yet. At the vacant look on his face, Sakuya winked and added one more thing.

"In exchange, I have one request!"

"Okay! Anything! If it's something I can do as your homeroom teacher!"

"I want to serve as executive together with Tae-il!"

"Deal!"

Executives had to be sent two to a class anyway. Having shaken off the troublesome burden in a single stroke, the homeroom teacher brought his fist down on the podium like a judge delivering a verdict.

"Class 7's executives shall be Sakuraba and Tae-il! No objections, I trust?"

And so, in the blink of an eye, Tae-il was fleeced in broad daylight and drafted as an executive.

"That's more or less what happened..."

Hearing that he had been forced into the executive role against his will, Yuuya tilted ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her head.

"Isn't that fine?"

"Huh?"

"The public morals committee is Sakurako and Ayane, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah, but..."

Tae-il scratched the bridge of his nose, thinking of that brazen little pink-haired squirt.

"It just keeps feeling like I'm walking on eggshells..."

He had meant to stay curled up and quiet until the day of the Cultural Festival, keeping his head down as far as he could. Rena, Sakuya, and even Iris. This band, which had gathered every notable name in the school, still carried quite a few buried risks. Rena and Sakuya were the problem in particular. Thanks to the hidden efforts of their advisor, Asakura, it was fine so long as they did not go around making a show of themselves. It also meant something that the season of Sakuya's return to the spotlight would not begin until next spring.

"A lot of kids take the executive spot gunning for their internal grades, so even if I don't want to, I'm going to stand out to the teachers. You know?"

"Ah. So that's the problem..."

If Tae-il had gone in as an executive alone, it might have been all right. The problem was that he was paired with Sakuya, so he stood out whether he liked it or not. She was practically a life-sized standee that walked. Nobody could help turning to look at least once.

"And if Sakuya sticks to me, then, well, Ayane too..."

"A moment of silence..."

"Haa. I'll just have to do what I can. Whatever."

For some reason, even though none of this had anything to do with the live show, Tae-il's shoulders felt considerably heavy.

Every school story shares one trait. The power of the student council. Not enough to infringe on the faculty's authority, but sometimes the scale is so large you have to wonder whether students are really allowed to operate like that. Yuuma High was no exception.

This term's student council in particular wielded an influence without precedent. Outstanding grades, and a talent for promoting the school built by throwing itself into outside events, had handed the president a power that reached everywhere.

"This year's first-years are really putting their backs into it, huh? This Cultural Festival's going to be livelier than I thought."

Ueno Shin, president of the Yuuma student council, had both legs kicked up on the desk, cackling his way through the Cultural Festival exhibits submitted from across the school. The vice president, sorting papers, shot him a look.

"President Ueno. Would you kindly take your shoes off the desk?"

"Lily, a girl who acts that strict isn't popular, you know?"

"Care to die?"

The vice president known as Lily — Yamamoto Lily — immediately flipped Ueno the middle finger.

"As expected of the vice president I picked. That prickliness is the charm."

"To think this is our president..."

He had become student council president back in his first year, and now he was a second-year. That meant this character would still be president through the latter half of next year. Mourning Yuuma's dark future, Lily pressed a hand to her forehead and sighed.

"Well, it's not like I can't do the job, is it?"

"That's what makes it worse."

"I am pretty exceptional. Excessively so."

Ueno shrugged.

"Kindly shut up, and review the next documents. These are the projected expenditure reports the art clubs submitted."

Ueno scanned the papers at speed, then burst out laughing when he saw more zeros than he had expected.

"Haha! These expenses are outrageous! That's our school for you! Even for a private school, everyone's sense of money is completely numb! Gives me a thrill every time I look! The best!"

"Don't praise the art freaks. Start figuring out how to cut later spending as much as possible. Our budget this semester is limited."

"Haa. Fall is always the problem..."

Ueno sighed and went back to the documents.

If you had to name the busiest stretch at Yuuma High, it would be summer, when Interhigh was held, and autumn, when every kind of event piled up. Summer Interhigh was an outside event, so it was the lesser evil. All the student council had to do was get the teachers' approval around the closing ceremony, secure a budget for the athletic clubs, and throw together some kind of cheering section.

Autumn was the problem. The student council was frantically busy then because that was when so many events happened inside the school. Just when things seemed as if they might ease after the Cultural Festival, the sports festival arrived. Just when the sports festival seemed to be over, finals and the events for the graduating seniors were waiting.

"I think this every time, but our school's athletic clubs have invented far too much useless culture."

"The school depends on the athletic clubs for a great deal."

There was sponsorship from major corporations and big spenders, but the greatest force holding Yuuma up was the athletic clubs' results outside the school. Like it or not, they had to depend on them. Some of the school's culture, and some of its events, had been made entirely by them.

"It'd be nice if some other cultural scene blew up instead..."

"Why?"

"Then we'd have a justification. To cut the athletic clubs' budget."

Right now the athletic clubs' influence was too strong. Even when club budgets were drawn up, they came first and received the most. Next was music, and then the art clubs. The student council might have wanted to complain, but the clubs produced such results that it could not voice a single grievance.

"Didn't you say you had an idea, once?"

"Yeah. About that."

Ueno gave a bitter smile. He had tried to set the athletic clubs against one another, hoping to shave their reputation down a little. He had failed.

"The athletic clubs aren't idiots either. I tried stirring them up this way and that. They caught on immediately."

"How incompetent."

"That's harsh. I thought sports types were all muscle-for-brains, like the kendo club captain."

"So. Why did the president's strategy fail?"

"The kendo club captain is dating the volleyball club captain."

"Oh dear."

If the targets of your wedge happened to be in love, there was nothing to be done. Lily offered her sympathy. Ueno scratched his head furiously, irritated.

"Aagh! Why are the kendo club and the volleyball club not under a dating ban! If they were, I could've just — grabbed their weakness and...!"

The only athletic clubs at Yuuma under a dating ban were baseball, soccer, and basketball.

"Fine. Show me the Eve Festival stage applications."

"Here."

Lily dropped a stack of papers onto the desk — thick enough that calling it a mere bundle would have been generous.

Thud.

"Whoa. Why are there so many applicants? Screening all of these is a job in itself..."

The largest part of the Cultural Festival was, of course, the Eve Festival and the Finale. True to a school strong in arts and athletics, everything went up on that stage, from simple plays to orchestras. Prizewinners from skill contests were scattered all over campus, so the press sometimes showed up, and people from the industry sometimes came by — a chance for promising students to get their names remembered. Naturally, plenty of applicants had their eyes on the stage.

But stage time was extremely limited, so choosing which teams would go up had standards of its own.

"As you asked, I also pulled out every team that received a teacher's recommendation."

"Thanks. Love you, my lovely Lily-dear."

"If you want to be loved by me, why don't you jump out the window this instant?"

"Challenging. I like it. Should I try it right now?"

"I'll have an ambulance on standby."

"It was a joke."

"What a shame."

Lily sipped her coffee with a genuinely disappointed expression. Ueno, as always, lounged through the papers in a posture that could not have been more insolent.

"Hm?"

Then he noticed something odd.

"Lily, who was Asakura-sensei again...?"

"Biology, for the first- and second-years."

Ueno snapped his fingers.

"Aha! Then why didn't I know them?"

"Sensei handles the Liberal Class, so you wouldn't have seen them, President."

"Hmm. I see. Okay. Got it. But why does the name feel familiar?"

"Sensei was the Animal Husbandry Club's advisor last year."

"Ah..."

For the first time, Ueno broke into a cold sweat.

The Animal Husbandry Club. That whole mess had been a tragedy born of the power and authority concentrated in the athletic clubs.

"Mmm..."

Ueno carried a small debt toward the Animal Husbandry Club. However.

"But here it says advisor to the light music club."

"Must be holding both posts."

"Aren't the Animal Husbandry Club and the light music club a bit far apart?"

"How should I know."

"Hmm. Something smells. The 7th Light Music Club..."

When his instincts rang a warning bell, Ueno smacked his lips. Something smelled. The smell of an incident interesting enough to shake the whole school.

"Ah—achoo!"

"A cold? The temperature's been swinging a lot lately. You should have been careful."

Iris scolded Tae-il for the sneeze. His health was as good as Tales Tale's fortune.

"Sniff. It's not a cold. My nose just itched."

"Is someone badmouthing you?"

"Mmm..."

There were far too many reasons he might deserve it, so Tae-il reserved his answer.

"Anyway, the songs we're doing on stage are these two, right?"

"Yeah."

Tae-il nodded. One was Autumn Love Song — which, in Sakuya's words, she could now play with her eyes closed. The other was Sunshower. The song Tae-il had been sharpening his knife for, over and over.

"You sure you'll be all right, Iris?"

"Shin Tae-il, you haven't forgotten who I am, have you?"

At his worry, Iris lifted her chin, prim, as if to ask whether he did not trust her. Tae-il let out a short laugh.

"I know. Whose vocals already got recognized, after all."

"As long as you know."

"Then I'll tell the others this is the plan?"

"Okay!"

Playing never betrays the effort poured into it. Talent was worth weighing too, but the band members of Tales Tale were, every one of them, talent monsters anyone would envy. Rena, Ayane, and Sakuya as well. The more time they ground into it, the more outstanding the results they were getting.

Without a doubt, busking had been an enormous help in setting a standard for judging themselves. On top of that, Toseong had apparently felt bad watching, and had quietly passed Rena a few bits of know-how.

I wonder if Toseong made it back all right...

In the end, Tae-il had not gotten what he wanted where Shin Seongil was concerned. But he had no lingering regrets. There were still plenty of chances, and he had far too much to do ahead of him to cling to regrets now.

"Iris. How about we do a few more songs, then?"

"A few more? How?"

"Let's prepare them just the two of us, so it doesn't burden the others."

As it happened, the two of them could handle the finest accompanying instruments there were — guitar and piano.

"There are a few songs I want to experiment with."

"Experiment?"

"Yeah. Experiment. Will you help?"

"Just the two of us, right...?"

"Of course."

Iris went nnngh in thought for a long while, then finally nodded.

"O-okay! Because it has to be me, right!"

"Thanks, Iris."

"Hup—!"

When Tae-il smiled, bright and pleased, Iris flushed — then suddenly started pounding her own head. She opened her eyes again. Tae-il was staring at her in puzzlement, and an unbearable embarrassment washed over her. At times like this, there was only one way out.

"Iris? H-hey, where are you going, Iris!? Iris!?"

"Th-this is all Sakuya's fault!"

Iris screamed and fled.

"Sakuya's fault...?"

Tae-il's hand cut uselessly through empty air.