My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong As Expected

Page 499

That taste and sound linger in my memory.

The day before we decided to hold the dance, I happened to come to pick up the club room keys, which I'd never touched before. At that time, I was also talking to Professor Hiratsuka in the meeting room. Now I wonder, when Professor Hiratsuka called me back before I left, should I call it loneliness?

Gentle yet melancholic, that was the first time I'd ever seen Hiratsuka-sensei with that look in her eyes.

What Hiratsuka-sensei wanted to tell me at the time was probably about leaving the company. She might have been wanting to tell me this for much longer. I'm not entirely clueless.

But at that time, I never even thought she would resign.

Besides, not knowing her length of service and not paying particular attention to the resignation policy of public high schools, I had no way of guessing. So, there's no point in regretting it now.

After all, for nearly ten years from elementary to junior high school, I lived a school life where I wasn't familiar with my teachers. Sigh, if I had to pick a complaint, I'd say one or two… no, if I think about it carefully, five or six. But I've grown up now, and what happened in the past isn't important anymore; all I feel is a simple "I'd never forgive them." Don't I have a lot of complaints?

Therefore, it is probably the first time for someone who could be called a mentor to leave me.

I still haven't truly grasped the reality of this; I feel somewhat detached. Or rather, I'm trying to maintain an objective stance. I know I'm using this to stay calm. In that sense, the word "calm" has an unusually detached, almost ethereal quality. I'm internally telling lame jokes, only chuckling aloud.

He sat on the sofa without moving, waiting silently.

Because of the partition, I couldn't see what Professor Hiratsuka was doing. The isolated space was filled with a dull silence, and I felt a little anxious.

However, thanks to the occasional sounds from faculty and staff, and the incessant ringing of the phone, I knew that time was indeed passing, albeit very slowly. The sky outside the window had also become even darker than before.

Just as I was staring blankly out the window, I suddenly heard a "knock".

Turning my head, I saw that it was Hiratsuka-sensei tapping on the thin partition.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

"Ah, no..."

I don't know if it was just my imagination, but her smile seemed a little lonely, which made me unable to complain, "Yeah, I've been waiting for so long," or even make a joke. If only I could have said something nicer, but the atmosphere just wasn't right.

The office was filled with noise, but the atmosphere emanating from Professor Hiratsuka was solid, as if it could block out the surrounding sounds. Even when he sat down opposite me, all I could hear was the creaking of the sofa.

"Alright, where should I begin..."

She said that, but then fell silent. Instead, she placed the cloyingly sweet canned coffee on the low table and pushed it toward me.

But I wasn't very thirsty, so I gently shook my head and declined. Then, Professor Hiratsuka pushed the black coffee from his other hand towards me.

She's gone to such lengths, I couldn't very well refuse. Reluctantly, I picked up the familiar canned coffee and nodded my thanks.

The coffee can was ice-cold, as if it had been taken from the refrigerator. As soon as I picked it up, water droplets dripped down my skin. I gripped the can tightly to warm it up, waiting for Professor Hiratsuka to speak.

However, what reached my ears was not words, but a rhythmic knocking sound.

Professor Hiratsuka held the cigarette between his fingers, as if gathering his thoughts or waiting for the right moment to speak, the filter facing down, and gently tapped the table. I knew that gesture was to concentrate the tobacco. But at that moment, I felt as if something else had been stuffed into that cigarette.

Shortly after, Hiratsuka-sensei lit a cigarette.

The air was thick with smoke and emitted a strong tar smell.

There are almost no smokers around me, so one day, I will no longer smell this scent. And then, whenever I smell it, I will think of that person. Until the day I forget them.

To conceal the thought that flashed through my mind, I spoke first.

"First, there's the issue of the ball... right?"

I went back to school specifically for this matter, but I made it sound like there were other issues involved.

Professor Hiratsuka probably noticed it too, but didn't point it out, only nodding slightly.

“Well…”

She paused briefly, exhaled a short puff of smoke, and stubbed out the still-long cigarette with the ashtray. Once the flame was extinguished, the white ash mingled with the brown tobacco, turning black. I stared at the contents of the ashtray. Ms. Hiratsuka broke the silence with a soft sigh.

"In conclusion, the school is considering canceling the dance."

"Would you consider...?"

"Well, although a final decision hasn't been made yet, the school's attitude probably won't change much. Therefore, the organizers must exercise self-discipline."

Ms. Hiratsuka spoke in a flat tone, perhaps to avoid adding any unnecessary emotion. Her words seemed to be stating an unchangeable fact, which made me unable to resist interjecting.

"Self-discipline... is actually just about stopping it, it's just a different way of saying it."

Ms. Hiratsuka scratched her cheek in annoyance and looked away.

"The school and parents are also in an awkward position. After all, they had already made a promise, and they can't just announce the closure without explanation... So, they asked the students to be self-disciplined in a roundabout way."

Her gaze returned to me.

"But before..."

"Um."

Ms. Hiratsuka frowned. Seeing her expression, I realized there was no point in saying that. This issue should have already been discussed with Yukinoshita and the others. So, I should ask something else.

"The teacher's personal opinion differs from the school's opinion, right?"

"That's right. I think we should continue negotiations to gain the understanding of the opposing side. I also suggested this to the school when they were considering it. But..."

Although Hiratsuka-sensei only said half of it, I could roughly guess what she was going to say next.

A few days ago, some parents saw photos of the rehearsal on social media and became concerned. Yukinoshita's mothers, representing—or rather, on behalf of these parents—came to the school in their capacity as members of the parent-teacher association and suggested that the school cancel the dance.

She cited examples of problems such as drinking and impure heterosexual relationships that have occurred in countries where dances originated, as evidence to convey her opposition.

It's likely that the school had already decided to close the program at that time.

"...Well, since they personally came to protest, of course the students will be encouraged to be self-disciplined."

"Yes. Once it's beyond my jurisdiction, what my subordinates say is only taken as a reference. That's the tragedy of people in society."

The teacher chuckled self-deprecatingly. I shrugged and nodded a couple of times in response.

That's right. It's not just teachers; it's the same for everyone below them, including graduates and current students like myself—their opinions won't be taken into account.

Then, after much consideration, the higher-ups forced the weak to put away their weapons, bringing the matter to a close without causing any disturbance.

The word "self-discipline" is so apt. I truly believe it.

"This job is absolutely terrible."

"That's not true. Once you get to the top, it's a lot of fun. You can do whatever you want."

We smiled wryly, as if it were a joke. Or rather, we could only laugh now. This satirical remark about society is, in a sense, quite apt. Because, in reality, we, as those in lower positions, are simply accepting the arbitrary actions of those in power.

In this matter, Yukinoshita's mother occupies a high position as someone with power and authority.

Such an extraordinary person came to the school in person and even had a meeting with the higher-ups.

Her actions, whenever they are obvious, regardless of the topic of discussion, inevitably bring the issue to the forefront.

Regardless of her true intentions, all others can see is that "she took action".

Even if Yukinoshita's mother simply sought to "discuss" or "greet" the school's higher-ups, the fact that someone of such status and ability would come all the way would create a sense of pressure, enough to make people speculate about her intentions.

For example, even if important figures are just having tea and chatting in a private room where outsiders can't see them, it will naturally lead people to speculate and guess about each other's intentions.

In fact, we do this all the time in our daily lives. The phrase "Please check if the atmosphere is good" is a prime example. We infer unspoken intentions based on inaccurate information and even regard it as a virtue.

Observing others' words and expressions and guessing their thoughts is a peaceful yet closed-off method of adjustment. Especially in certain closed communication circles such as schools, neighborhoods, and workplaces, this high-context negotiation skill is even essential.

I mean, why does society always force people to read between the lines? It's the guy who has to ask the girl for her contact information, the guy who has to ask her out, and by the third date, create an atmosphere where she might confess her feelings… Where did this "cornering Kyle" tactic come from? [Note 1: Kyle's tactic in the game *Final Fight*. Crouching in place to gather energy, he can unleash different attacks depending on the opponent's actions; this is considered a foul tactic. Zangief, mentioned below, is also a character from *Final Fight*.] If the opponent is Zangief, there's practically nothing you can do, right? No, even if it's not Zangief, it's still difficult to deal with. Even social media has its own rules like this. Once someone starts saying, "Is that guy not quite compatible with us?" or "He's not a bad guy," it sets the stage for a guessing game at the level of Yoshiharu Hanyu [Note 2: the first shogi player in Japanese history to achieve seven championships], unknowingly creating an atmosphere of ostracizing someone. If you fail to win in this guessing contest, you won't just be called ZANGI (Note 3: In Hokkaido, fried chicken is called ZANGI, which sounds like "sangji"), but will be made into roast chicken (Note 4: In Japanese mahjong, players who don't win a single hand in a half-round will have points deducted).

Different small circles have different rules. We must carefully observe these subtle signals, cooperate with everyone, and skillfully integrate into the group. For example, because I couldn't integrate, I was ostracized from kindergarten, elementary school, junior high, high school, club activities, to cram schools and part-time jobs, earning the title of "Seven-time Ostracist." I still have a chance to go to university in the future, so becoming an eight-time ostracist isn't a dream! It's like shogi (Japanese chess).

My ability to read people's expressions and moods is widely recognized. Regardless of whether I'm actually observing the atmosphere, I'm well aware of the importance of this skill.

Therefore, I have no objection to the school's approach. It's easy to label this solution as "inflexible," but if I were in that situation, I would make the same judgment. Because deliberately going against other people's opinions is troublesome!

"……I see."

I looked up at the ceiling, letting out a sound that was a mixture of understanding and disappointment. Perhaps my exhaustion was showing on my face, because Professor Hiratsuka pushed the coffee, which he hadn't even touched, towards me. I bowed my head to thank him and gratefully accepted it.

I pulled the tab while trying to organize my thoughts.

Given the current situation, it is probably impossible to overturn the school's decision.

A problem isn't a problem if it's not considered a problem. However, the moment it becomes a problem, the simplest thing to do is to obediently listen to what your superiors say and deal with the troublesome matter.

If you're criticized for being rash or inappropriate, the correct approach is to feign an apology like, "Ugh, so long-winded, I'm reflecting on it," creating an atmosphere of self-discipline and keeping a low profile until they forget about it. There's no other way; it's hard to survive in this day and age. "Political correctness" is such a powerful tool. Will even the term "word hunting" [Note 5: referring to a frequently used word being deemed inappropriate by some and subsequently banned] be banned for discriminating against hunting peoples? I'm just guessing.

Regardless, the current issue isn't that others think we have problems or demand we improve. It's not uncommon for people to offer suggestions for improvement. Society could very well transform into a more livable place as a result. There's nothing inherently wrong with considering others.

The problem lies with those who don't directly protest, but instead claim to be saints, gentlemen, and good citizens.

Their thinking is very fixed. They believe that making things worse is bad, causing problems is bad, and having dissenting opinions is bad. They avoid discussing the background and essence of a problem, then send out a bunch of people to say, "This is not good, so it shouldn't be done," singing the praises of justice, irresponsibly criticizing, forcing the other party to apologize, and ultimately refusing to forgive.

I am a saintly and virtuous person, unprecedented since the beginning of time, so of course I will not approach them casually, nor will I do anything that would arouse suspicion.

Words like "political correctness," "recklessness," and "inappropriateness" will become the banner, creating a majority that doesn't want to cause trouble, with both the loud minority and the silent majority mixed in.

It's common for the minority to be no match for the majority. War is all about numbers; numbers equal strength, and strength equals power. Power is incredible. With power, you can accomplish most things and defeat a huge number of people. In other words, the best way to increase power is through muscle. Building muscle is the strongest solution. Do you understand? You probably don't.

What I understand is that the ball is in a very serious situation right now.

Currently, only some members of the student council, parent-teacher association, and the school administration know about it. If negative opinions about the dance and the school's self-discipline requirements spread among students and parents, the opposition will likely grow even stronger.

If we continue to stand idly by, the situation will become increasingly difficult to salvage. That being said, we don't have any good solutions.

"This is already a dead end..."

A weary laugh escaped from the corner of his mouth.

Suddenly, my eyes met Hiratsuka-sensei's. Her gaze held a hint of warmth, as if she were waiting for my reaction. Hiratsuka-sensei rested her elbows on her knees, loosened her clasped fingers, and slowly began to speak.

"You really do want the ball to be a success."

She brought up the same question she had asked on the phone again, and I was speechless.

Professor Hiratsuka's tone remained gentle throughout, showing no sign of blaming me. Even so, I was still unsure whether getting involved was the right thing to do, so I didn't know how to respond. Incidentally, the rambling I rambled on the phone made me a little embarrassed. However, what's done is done, and there's no going back now.

So, I nodded as if I couldn't resist gravity. It looked almost like I was bowing my head.

"I don't know if doing this is the right thing to do..."

I pursed my lips and managed to squeeze out some ambiguous words. It was all because of that one word that flashed through my mind, leaving me feeling weak and listless.

Interdependence.

I have to admit that no words could better describe my relationship with her than those used by Yukino Yukinoshita. Even if I wanted to deny it, I had no evidence to refute it.

His voice lost its strength, and his gaze drooped.

There are several blurry, black, circular marks on the floor under the sofa. They're probably worn down over the years. There's no sign of repair. The uneven marks give it the feel of a concrete floor.

I stared blankly at the ground, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hiratsuka-sensei raise her other leg.

"Yes. Yukinoshita doesn't want you to get involved."

I looked up and met Hiratsuka-sensei's serious gaze.

Yukino Yukinoshita did indeed reject my interference. Her monologue was also heard by Hiratsuka-sensei, who was present. It's probably because she heard it that Hiratsuka-sensei said that. Or, considering her initial attempt to prevent me from finding out about the canceled ball, she might have already known Yukinoshita's intentions on other occasions besides that one. Hiratsuka-sensei might know those things she kept from me.

Thinking about this, I began to hesitate about whether I should rashly intervene, and could only respond with a half-smile.

A facial muscle I don't usually use twitched, and I realized, "Ah, is this what they call a wry smile?"

To be honest, I knew things were going to get very difficult, and the thought of the pointless conversation I was about to have with her sent my spirits plummeting. Besides, it definitely wouldn't end well. Nevertheless, I still felt compelled to do it. That's why I could only offer a smile in return.

Seeing my ambiguous, bitter smile, Hiratsuka-sensei's gaze softened, and a smile appeared on her lips.

"...Even so, you still have to do it. Right?"

"I'm used to not being needed."

It's always been like this. Always meddling in other people's business. Now, I can't possibly break this bad habit.

Hiratsuka-sensei stood there, blinking a couple of times. Then, she couldn't help but turn away and laugh.

Because she was laughing so happily, I slightly protested with my eyes. Ms. Hiratsuka cleared her throat, suppressing her laughter.

"Oh, sorry. Oh dear—I'm a little happy."

She lowered her eyebrows before she finished speaking, looking troubled.

"However, Yukinoshita is also struggling, trying to change something. I want to support her too. So, I don't know if it's right to lend a helping hand casually, and it might even hinder her. Especially when she's a bit stuck in a rut like now."

Ms. Hiratsuka glanced down at me. From her expression, which seemed to suggest she wanted to say something, I could tell she was thinking of Yukinoshita.

"If you mean something like dependency, rather than getting bogged down in details... I think it's a misunderstanding."

"Hmm... I don't think the term 'dependence' is correct either, but the most important thing in this kind of thing is the person's own perspective. If the other person's viewpoint is biased towards a certain side, it's usually useless to say anything more."

"Yes...that's right..."