Heart-Pounding Cultural Festival (5)
"Is this really right...?"
Rena looked at the sun mask she had drawn, cut, and folded with her own hands, and her expression turned complicated. Of all things, she had to wear this and go up on stage. The mere thought was horrifying.
The maid cosplay would've been better...
She thought back to the maid-outfit disaster from the other day, when Tae-il announced the recording schedule and she'd had no choice but to put one on. Something about having to wear it again later, when they actually recorded.
That would've been better. A maid outfit at least looked pretty. Rena had little faith in her figure, but she was reasonably confident in her face. To put it bluntly, if she wore a maid dress, every so-called fan who chased her around at every exhibition would get a nosebleed and die of happiness.
"Kyaa, so cute!"
She could already picture them collapsing while they shouted something like that. This damned sun mask, on the other hand, was one hundred percent pure ridiculous. And the people around her had the nerve to call it cute?
Bullshit.
Rena could not agree in the slightest. A maid outfit, at least, could appeal to Tae-il if she only chose the design carefully. In fact, when the girls talked among themselves with Tae-il nowhere in sight, Sakuya had said as much without a shred of shame.
"If you want to seduce the opposite sex, sexy is still the best, right?"
"Sexy...?"
"Yeah. Something erotic, like this. What do you think?"
As she spoke, Sakuya held up a maid outfit with an outright plunging neckline.
"Eek!"
The moment Ayane saw it, she cried out in absolute opposition.
"No! Absolutely not! Shin-chan is weak to this kind of thing, so we can't! He'll be bewitched!"
By now, Tae-il's tastes were an open secret — partly because Ayane had let them slip a few times by accident, and partly because Sakuya had tested the waters with her own body and more or less mapped the pattern. Everyone around him knew. He alone did not. The sort of situation that would make you want to die if you were ever found out.
Which was why Sakuya found Ayane's reaction puzzling.
"If he's weak to it, isn't that all the more reason to wear it?"
"Only Sakuya and Iris could pull something like this off! Ayane and the pipsqueak can't...!"
"Whoops!"
Sakuya pressed a hand to her forehead and snickered.
"W-we're wearing this...!?"
"Yeah. You don't like it?"
Iris froze, her face burning red.
"If you called him Master dressed like this, don't you think Tae-il's lower half would just snap to attention?"
"D-decorum! Let's maintain our decorum! No lewd things!"
"Iris stole Ayane's line!"
"That was never your line."
"That's...!"
"How is someone who brags about sleeping next to Shin every night supposed to be a morals officer?"
"Am I wrong?"
"Haah, wrong how, exactly? Sakuya, you're the one who goes to Shin's place every morning, and you've already got her acting like this..."
"It's a rule of the trade, isn't it? The morals officer is always the first one to corrupt public morals."
"Ah."
Rena was left speechless by Sakuya's crystal-clear explanation.
"What are you even talking about?"
Ayane, who hadn't followed any of it, tilted her head.
"Why would a morals officer mess up public morals?"
"It's just... a thing."
"Mm-hmm."
"All of you — no dirty talk from here on out!"
Something like that had happened, more or less.
Anyway. Compared to a maid outfit, this was a laugh track in physical form, and the thought put Rena at ease. Wearing this ridiculous thing, with no lines to deliver and no distinctive figure to give her away, was a mercy. If it had been otherwise, she might have died of shame.
"Haah."
Being able to skip rehearsal was something, at least. Time was limited, and spending that limited time productively mattered more to her right now than anything else.
Clap, clap!
"Everyone ready? Let's get moving to the small auditorium!"
"We don't need to haul all the props, right?"
"Yeah. And just one or two from the set crew come with us and check which props will actually work on the stage."
Class 8 picked up the pace. The small auditorium was already booked solid, so the time they had to rehearse was limited as well. The only groups allowed to use the Great Auditorium stage for a play at the Eve Festival were the drama club and the film research club. Plays put on by individual classes had to use the small auditorium, or else remodel the classroom itself.
Students clutching scripts and props poured out of the room. The class president, last in line, stopped at the sight of the one person left behind.
"Honjo, you're really not coming?"
"Nope."
"Haha. That's a shame. See you later, then!"
"Yeah."
Fortunately, the class president didn't press her any further. After more than a semester of watching her, everyone already knew how prickly Rena was. Once the president was gone, the classroom stood empty, and silence settled over it.
"Hoo. Finally alone."
Being alone used to feel natural. Aside from Iris, there had been no one she could properly call a friend. Rena's heart had always been filled with nothing but Iris and her father.
Not anymore. She had learned the joy of being with other people. For the first time since their first ensemble, when she parted from everyone and found herself alone, she felt an emptiness in one corner of her heart. It was an unfamiliar feeling. Now that they had even pulled off their first busking, that feeling only grew thicker every time she was left by herself. An emotional void that even her beloved father could not fill only deepened the confusion.
She would not give him up so easily. She would not readily abandon a heart she had already steeled. And yet, for all those earlier resolutions, these days she found herself worrying more and more over practical problems.
But before she could even linger on the regret, Rena set the mask down, took out a pencil, and opened her notebook.
"Those two are probably fooling around to their hearts' content in the art room by now. So what should I be doing here...?"
Ever since Cultural Festival preparations began, going to the art room meant hearing Iris sing. Her songs were sweet, as if she were whispering love. Through a door left slightly ajar, Rena had watched the two of them practicing, sunk so deep they couldn't see anything around them — and then, before she knew it, she had taken a step back. She had grown afraid of wedging herself into that space. Afraid that confessing her feelings honestly would twist the relationship into something strange, she couldn't bring herself to do it.
She used to despise that stock line from manga and dramas, taking it for nothing but a coward's excuse. Now she was beginning to understand, just a little, the shape of a character who carried a heart like that.
Feelings are really something...
No matter how she wanted to control them, the things were tyrants. They did as they pleased and refused to be reined in. She hadn't known that before, because she never bothered to control them at all. She had lived entirely on the pleasure of thinking she was the best.
You've grown a bit, haven't you, Honjo Rena?
Mocking herself, she opened the notebook. Instead of class notes, the lined pages were packed tight with drawings. Trivial daydreams, the manga storyboards for her next Comic-Con, compositions for her exhibition pieces, the music-video plot Tae-il had mentioned — every kind of idea was gathered there.
"The doujinshi storyboard is at least all drawn..."
She flipped quickly through the pages. Outlines and moods for the exhibition pieces were summarized so briefly that only Rena herself could read them.
A flick. Her finger moved, and the pencil tip tapped the notebook. At the very end of the lead, a broken flake of graphite fell away, and instead of a line, only tiny dots dropped onto the blank white page.
"..."
Close her eyes, and inspiration surged up in waves. Every panel of the doujinshi she would bring to the winter Comic-Con was already etched clearly in her head. The exhibition was the same. From the size of the canvas to which paints she would use and which palette would work best, everything was already drawn. In crude terms, she felt like a human 3D printer — a sense of omnipotence, as if the moment she moved her hands, everything she had conceived would be born into the world exactly as it was.
But.
"...I'm going to lose it."
Of all things, the music video was the one image that refused to come. It felt like exam season, when everything goes perfectly except studying for the exam. Vague. No — as an artist, something kept throwing a brake across her choices and her decisions.
"..."
Rena spun the pencil over her hand. Once. Twice. A third time.
Tap.
The pencil struck her fingernail, rode the back of her hand, and rolled off under the desk.
"..."
Her fingers twitched. The fingertips that had been stretched open spasmed and clenched back into a tight fist, as if something were pulling them shut. She didn't pick the pencil up. She closed her eyes, and the cause of her worry came into view.
"Shin..."
Rena bit down on her lip.
The third day of Cultural Festival preparations. Some classes already had a respectable shape to them, while others still hadn't even laid down a frame. As a rule, the second- and third-years, who had been through it before, prepared the fastest. Even among the first-years, classes with little to prepare — or those packed with athletic-club kids and a clear chain of command — were moving at a remarkable pace.
The executive committee meeting room.
"Magnificent!"
Ueno checked the handout Sakuya had given him, threw both arms into the air, and shouted.
"As expected of Sakuraba! To think the Liberal track would answer negotiations this smoothly! You wouldn't happen to be interested in joining the student council, would you?"
"Ahaha. Not really?"
"Heartless...!"
At the firm refusal, Ueno smacked his own forehead with a thwack and bent his flexible waist backward.
"A shame, but it can't be helped! Ha! Ha! Ha!"
Just like that, he held his body in an arch and laughed uproariously.
"You want to hit him, don't you?"
Beside Sakuya, who was staring blankly, Lily asked in a quiet aside. Sakuya turned the question back on her.
"Am I allowed to?"
"I'll specially transfer my authority to you. How about it?"
"The vice president has that kind of authority...?"
"Please, just call me Lily, Miss Sakuraba. And as for the authority..."
Lily shot Ueno a sidelong look.
"Well, that pervert gave it to me, so it's solid."
"Wait...!"
Ueno, who had been laughing himself breathless, sprang upright like a roly-poly and waved both hands.
"The vice president's delicate little fist, maybe. But a fist from Sakuraba of the athletic clubs? I'd die!"
"Ahaha. That stings a little..."
"Erm..."
When Sakuya put on a sorrowful face, Ueno — who had been crying out purely for the sake of his own survival — faltered. Sensing her chance, Lily pressed him.
"Oh my? President, and you call yourself a gentleman. Don't tell me you've just made a lady cry?"
"T-that's not it..."
Somehow, the excuse sounded exactly like someone else's.
"Ah-choo!"
Tae-il, off inspecting the other clubs' performances, sneezed.
"A cold...?"
Back in the executive committee meeting room, chances like this were rare. Wearing a sadistic smile, Lily cornered Ueno in front of every other committee member.
"Calling Miss Sakuraba a gorilla. Your consideration is sorely lacking, President."
"No! I never went that far...!?"
"Sob, sob..."
"Miss Sakuraba, please don't play along with her...!"
Around them, people who had apparently already grown used to it swallowed their laughter at the three-person routine. Contrary to what most had feared, the mood on the executive committee was excellent. And at the center of it, as always, was Sakuya.
Someone like her really would be wonderful on our student council...
An ace of the athletic clubs who felt no particular belonging to them, and no superiority either, and who knew how to lift a room besides. In the clubs she commanded everyone through overwhelming talent; in ordinary life she brightened her surroundings as a mood-maker with a radiant face. Anyone could see at a glance why she was so popular.
Ueno clicked his tongue.
"If you ever change your mind, just say the word. The student council will always be open to you."
"Ahaha. I'll just take the sentiment, President."
"Nngh. Is my face simply not persuasive? A pity. If I had only a little more charm...!"
"She would've fled in terror."
"Vice President, what exactly do you take me for?"
"A monster made entirely of ego?"
"Ha...!"
Unable to bring himself to deny it, he turned away and covered his face.
"What an idiot."
Watching Lily shake her head, Sakuya laughed under her breath and returned to her seat.
I wonder what Tae-il's doing right about now...
Surprisingly, he was still a total loser in front of other people, and she couldn't help wondering whether he was actually managing all right.
Just as Sakuya had feared.
Sent on the club inspections — said to be the hardest job on the executive committee — Tae-il was struggling badly with an encounter he had never asked for.
"Uh, so, the thing is..."
"Hmm?"
Flesh met flesh. It was heavy, and yet soft. Muscle or fat, it was hard to say. Letting out a quiet sigh, Tae-il looked at the sumo club member who seemed determined to solve everything with brute force.
"So, like I was saying..."
"Don't tell me you have a complaint against Yuuma High's sumo club and its thirty-year tradition? Well?"
"..."
Thick flesh pressed in on him from both sides. The smell of bare skin turned his stomach.
For the first time, Tae-il found himself missing the excessive skinship of the Tales Tale members.