Ozawa was confused.
When she found the small box marked Emergencies Only, she had felt hope again for the first time since the news came. But the only thing inside was an old flip phone, with the only markings on it being a worn-out sticker of a bandaged teddy bear, and years of scratching all around. When she opened it, a small, handwritten note fell out. A phone number. Why was this phone even here, who put it there, and for how long had it been sitting in the drawer of the Student Council President's desk?
"Well, I'm out of options anyways," she sighed, and began dialing the number. She hadn't had to manually dial a number for years, maybe not since kindergarten, but here she was. As time went on, and the tones rang out, she wondered what she was even doing. MEXT was going to close Ooarai down. They were going to scrap the school carrier, and sell the parts. Nothing would remain, and her friends and everyone she knew would be scattered to the winds, sent to dozens of schools around the country.
"It's been awhile since anyone called me this way," a voice chuckled on the other end of the line.
"He... hello?" Ozawa asked. "Who is this?"
"Don't worry about it," said the woman, with what almost sounded like glee. "I'm guessing you're the new Student Council President of Ooarai. Time really does fly by huh?"
"How did you-"
"Never mind that," the woman interrupted. "What's the problem this time?"
"Problem? Well..."
"Come on then, spit it out already," the woman laughed. "The box does say 'Emergencies Only', so I hope you have some problem I can help with. I'm a busy woman, you know."
"Our...our school's being shut down. This really scary guy from MEXT keeps laughing at us when we try to ask why, and we don't know what to do. I don't want to lose my friends, or this school." Ozawa could hear her voice start to crack, and feel the tears streaming down her cheeks, but she didn't care. Maybe, just maybe, this woman, whoever she was, could help.
"Oh," the woman said flatly. For the first time since answering, she didn't provide an immediate, snappy reply. All Ozawa could hear was some faint shouting on the other end, but she couldn't make out much. "Yuzu, get him in here ASAP!" the woman shouted with an anger that wasn't there a second ago. "And give Maho a call will you?!" Then the voice came back, far calmer and more sincere than before. "Listen kid, what's your name?"
"O-...Ozawa Mikoto, Miss. Student council president, Year 1."
"Listen to me Ozawa," the woman continued calmly. "Ooarai's gonna be fine. The Zuikaku's a fine ship, and a lot of excellent people have graduated from there. You're just next in line to handle a big problem that a lot of us couldn't finish. But I'm gonna make sure you don't need to worry about your school closing. The student council has enough to worry about."
"Thank you," Ozawa whispered. She was almost bawling at this point. "Thank you so much, Miss"
"No need to thank me. I'm just doing my job. Just make sure to put the phone back where you found it. Some other girl's gonna need it someday." The woman paused. "And if you ever feel the need to let off some steam, I suggest you get some dried potatoes and go check out the old garage behind the school with your friends. I´m sorry I can´t give you more support right now, but know that Ooarai will be fine. You're gonna do fine as president Ozawa-"
Ozawa nodded to herself. "Yes miss. Thank you so much."
"Don't worry 'bout it! Bye now," the woman giggled, and the phone clicked.
"Bye" Ozawa whispered in reply, answered only by the unending beep from the dead phone line. She picked up the piece of paper with the number, but as she was putting it back in the flip phone, she noticed a photograph on the other side. A short girl with pigtails, grinning, and two of what must be her friends behind her. A stern-looking black haired girl with glasses, and another with a motherly smile and a folder in her hand, and behind the trio what looked like a really angular car with treads and a tube sticking out the front. Ozawa admired the photograph for a second, before putting it back in the phone, returning it to the box, and closing the drawer again.
Yuzu looked at Renta Tsuji with a smile that didn't exactly carry contempt, but disappointment. He had been at this game of cat-and-mouse with the President, now Director, for years. She pushed the intercom and said softly "He's here now. Should I send him in?" making sure not to break eye-contact with the official who at this point was shaking as if a Maus had just hit his tank.
"Get him in here IMMEDIATELY!" the director shouted over the intercom, not that it was necessary. You could hear her shouting through the door.
"You can go inside now," Yuzu said with a smile and gestured to the door.
"Do you think I'm an idiot Renta? Did you really think that this time you'd be able to do it? And from right under my nose no less? I've never seen such audaci-"
The rest of the Director's tirade got cut short by the closing door. A few minutes later, Renta stormed out, red in the face like he usually was after these meetings. A few minutes after that, a call came in on Yuzu's cellphone.
"Hi Momo," she answered happily. "No Momo, it's all under control. ... Yes, the President's already taken care of it."
"Director, thank you very much" came a gleeful yell from inside the office.
"Yes, of course. Sorry, Director," Yuzu shouted back. "The Director has already taken care of it. It's a good thing Hana left that phone for the future, huh?"
They didn't exactly need to chat, they all saw each other after work almost every day, but Yuzu kept talking on the phone for the better part of an hour before she had to go back to her work.
It was always nice to know they could still defend Ooarai, even after all these years.