Tuesday, 11/1
"The start of a new month doesn't erase the challenges of the previous," Kobayakawa echoed through Shujin's gymnasium. Whoever set up his microphone and the accompanying speakers did their job a little too well—his voice was so loud, so overpowering, that Haru winced at every word. "But those of us who wish to may treat it as a new beginning, and I invite the rest of you all to do the same. November will be a new Shujin Academy, one known for compassion, truth, and caring for its students."
Haru just wanted the assembly to end so she could rejoin her class and focus on things other than the present moment. Kobayakawa wanted anything but—he figured that morning to be the perfect time to call an emergency assembly so he could posture and demonstrate Shujin's moral superiority while definitely not drawing any attention to what befell one of their students. No attention whatsoever…
"Our school had a hectic month because we weren't keen observers, just passive listeners. I encourage all of you to form your own opinions, base them on the morals that our academy stands for, and share these opinions with one another. Do not take another's opinion as your own without evaluating it against your personal beliefs; do not be swayed by the opinions of those with the loudest voices."
I can't believe he's saying all of this, Haru thought, watching him continue his speech of falsehoods. His way of pretending to have useful wisdom, or any wisdom, made her narrow her eyes and created a bitter taste in her mouth. She wished she didn't go to Shujin, but that made her remember that that was now her decision. I could change schools if I wished…
Haru spent her year demanding more agency and Halloween gave it to her with a slap in the face. She was completely in charge; the only remaining Okumura to decide what was best for the company, the family, and the world she lived in. Power was dumped onto her not even a few minutes after she learned of her father's suicide—the family lawyer, Satoshi Hattori, made sure she knew it by handing her a packet of impending decisions for the company. That packet found a home tucked away in her dresser, hopefully to never be opened.
She wanted nothing to do with Okumura Foods, nothing to do with the publicity of her father's death, and especially nothing to do with bullshit assemblies that definitely weren't organized for her.
"Okumura-chan," a thin voice whispered from her right. She was in the back right corner of the gymnasium, so it wasn't hard to figure out who spoke. One of her teachers leaned against the wall and offered a smile to Haru. "Do you need anything?"
Haru needed to not be at that stupid assembly. She shouldn't have been at school, but what else would she have done? Planned Kunikazu's funeral? His actions destroyed her opinion of him enough to hate the idea of planning his funeral, but she knew it had to be her to do it. After all, she was his daughter—she had to love him.
The only thing she could do in the aftermath was grasp at the straws of normality and pretend as if adulthood hadn't forced itself into her unprepared life. Okumura Foods's arrangements made sure that she had just as much power as Kunikazu to change the company as she saw fit—the family's lawyers made sure she knew it.
"No, thank you."
The teacher made a face, the kind that looked sick from holding back words that were desperate to be said. Haru focused on the stage and tried to forget that everyone, not just the teacher, thought of her as someone who needed helping.
She had great timing. Kobayakawa seemed a little too winded to continue his unnecessary speech. "...And I'm sure you all understand because you are Shujin students—the best of the best. Speaking of our best and brightest brings me to the reason this assembly was called. Please join me in welcoming Takuto Maruki to the stage."
Haru felt, well, stupid. Did she really think a whole assembly would be called just for her, just because she had something go wrong in her life? Granted, it was a very public catastrophe and it was the talk of everyone out of her earshot, but she needed to be realistic instead of believing the world revolved around her. That would be idiotic, right?
The student body applauded as Maruki emerged from the curtains, shyly waving and adjusting his glasses every few steps. Haru remembered his introduction to the school where he seemed just as awkward as he did in the present. Shujin hadn't changed him.
"Hey, guys. Hope everyone's feeling alright." Maruki chuckled into silence, expecting the rows of students watching him to make things less awkward. They didn't. Some enjoyed his nerves, turning to their friends to whisper and snicker at his expense. Maruki certainly noticed, but he'd dealt with Shujin students for months and knew their tendencies. "I'm here to make an announcement about the end of my time here, so… Yeah. Thursday is my last day."
Students, mostly girls, groaned and cried out. "Don't leave us, sensei!" one called, getting yells of agreement from nearby students.
Haru found it strange. Where was the love for Maruki during his tenure? He wasn't disliked by students, but he was never a talking point. I suppose that's a good thing with what the students here talk about. If Maruki was a subject of conversation, they wouldn't have been saying anything good, she thought.
Maruki smiled, holding his hands up to shush those who would miss him. "So, if you have any outstanding issues, want to say goodbye, or just need somebody to talk to, drop by the nurse's office in the practice building." Maruki's speech paused as he looked out at the crowd more intensely than he already had. It seemed that he searched for his favorites, possibly for—
Haru's brain short-circuited. Was he looking at her? No, there was no way. She sat in the back corner, wedged behind so many rows of much more important people. Shouldn't he have looked at Ren, at one of the volleyball players, or anyone else? Eye contact told her otherwise. He's definitely looking at me… Why? Haru asked herself.
"All of you are important to me, so some final conversations would mean a lot," Maruki said, letting his eyes linger on Haru until the end of his announcement. "Remember, I'm here to help until my very last day. We can talk about anything. Movies, politics, grades… Your family life. Whatever floats your boat." He chuckled, finally ending the most uncomfortable moment of Haru's difficult morning. His eyes didn't point at the crowd, but backstage at someone unseen by Haru. "Well, my time's up. I'll see you all around, okay?" Maruki stepped away from the mic, stumbling a little bit because he walked back a little too fast. He smiled at the crowd, laughing off the incident so he could take his leave with less of an awkward aftertaste left behind.
Kobayakawa waddled back onto the stage and Haru's brain shut off.
He was speaking to me. He wants to talk to me, she thought. He knows about Father—how could he not? And he wants to help me? How does that even work? I explain the past few days, he nods along, and I suddenly feel better?
Her thoughts were bitter, yet the idea tempted her. She never paid Maruki a visit and her time to do so was running out. If not talk about serious matters, she could just have a friendly conversation with a friendly man, right? What harm could—
A coarse whisper shot through the murmurs and side conversations that the students around her had. "Haru!" Haru looked to her right, glancing at the teacher who previously singled her out only to find that it wasn't the teacher. She stood normally, watching Kobayakawa lead the assembly into its next phase. Haru looked further right to the open door at the true back corner of the gymnasium.
Through the door, she saw Makoto beckoning for Haru to skip the rest of the assembly. The student council president ditching an assembly and encouraging her friend to do the same? It must've been a hallucination.
Makoto kept waving for Haru to get up and follow. "Haru," she yelled in whisper volume. Haru couldn't dismiss it as a hallucination anymore—she had to join Makoto in the hallway. She felt eyes on her when she grabbed her bag and stood up but she didn't care about them because they willingly sat through the entirety of Kobayakawa's speech.
Haru ducked out the door, opening her mouth to speak until Makoto held a hushing hand. She ushered Haru down the hall, turning a corner before she finally put that hand down.
"Mako-chan, what's going on?"
"I figured you didn't want to hear any of that…" Makoto led Haru to the stairway where they began the climb. Haru could have guessed where they were going, but she didn't ask. "Sorry. They wanted me to close out the assembly and I only got out of it by faking a bloody nose."
Haru's feeling of life being a hallucination returned. Makoto shunning her student council obligations? She flipped her world upside down for the sake of Haru—that couldn't have been right.
"You didn't need to do that."
"I did. Hearing Kobayakawa say all that, um, bullshit made me nauseous. It's horrible that he used your situation with the Newspaper Club as an example of this school changing for the better, and I didn't think you had to sit through that." Haru had to quicken her pace up the stairs to keep up with Makoto's simmering steps. "So I thought we could do some gardening," Makoto said, calming down at the mention of a relaxing activity.
I feel bad that she's this angry about it. Of course, it's upsetting for Kobayakawa to pretend that Shujin has any moral superiority, but that's something we have to tolerate by attending class here, Haru thought. I appreciate that she cares, I just wish she didn't have to work herself up over it.
"How'd you sleep?" Makoto asked.
"It was…" the most difficult night she'd had since moving to Ann's. The noise outside the mansion—police cars, chattering reporters, the crying of traumatized housekeepers—never left her ears even if she traveled across the city. "...Not great. But that means I can sleep better tonight, I suppose."
"Sorry to hear that." They continued walking in silence because Haru expected that her friend had more on her mind. She didn't want to pry, but the strangeness of Makoto pulling her out of an assembly just to garden couldn't be excused. There had to be more. "Hey, what did—"
"Senpai, senpai!"
A girl's yells stopped them from going up the final set of stairs to the roof. Makoto and Haru turned to see a short student sprinting down the hall at them. It was alarming, yet they held their position because, well, the girl was too short to be any kind of threat.
When she reached them, she didn't stand up tall and proud of catching up; she bent forward to rest her hands on her knees and heave out exhausted breaths that surely ached her legs. "Oh my god… You guys walk so fast!" Haru looked at Makoto, finding a concerned look on her friend's face. She couldn't shun all student council responsibilities—she had to help every student she could.
Despite her concern, the strangeness of the situation got to Makoto. "Erm… Can we help you?" It reminded Haru of how she felt being directed to leave the assembly just a minute before.
The girl's posture shot up and everything began to make sense. Kimi Kawano, notebook and pen ready, looked from girl to girl with an excited grin. "Yeah, you can. Care for an interview?"
She was at the assembly, right? I'm not confused about how she escaped, more so how she heard everything Kobayakawa said, then thought that chasing us down the hall to get some quotes was a good idea. Kawa-chan is bad news, Haru thought. She took a step back while readying herself for a complete escape if she needed to.
"No, we do not. Return to the—"
"C'mon, I just wanna ask Okumura-senpai about her dad." Kimi didn't look at her, but she did nod at her. She treated Haru like an object on display, one there for her amusement. "And about the Murakami article about her dad, but it'll only be a few questions. Please? Pretty pl—"
"One more word and the Newspaper Club is suspended until the Student Council decides that the club is not in violation of school policy," Makoto said with the anger from her contempt for Kobayakawa returning. She stepped toward Kimi, closing the gap so much that the reporter couldn't even hold her notebook up. It stayed clutched to her chest as she looked up at the student council president more powerful than she ever remembered. "This qualifies as harassment, Kawano-san, and I'd be more than happy to record it as the reason for your club's demise."
"What about f-f-freedom of the pre—"
"Really, freedom of the press? You want to ask questions about an article written by Kayo Murakami on the grounds of freedom of the press? Journalism may be a game to you, Kawano-san, but you're hurting people."
"The pen is mightier than the tyrant!"
"Is that so?"
"It is!" Instead of wielding her pen and notebook, Kimi opted for finger-wagging and the desperate act of grasping at straws. "And I'll prove it to you with this next article. 'President turned Dictator—Niijima embraces INGSOC.' How's that sound?!"
"Have you ever read that book?"
"What book?"
Makoto laughed. "It sounds like a wonderful headline. Happy writing, Kawano-san." Makoto spun away, noticed Haru's dumbfounded look, and led her friend up the stairs away from the reporter.
As they climbed, anguished cries followed them up. "This is oppression! You're authoritarian! Your brutalist scare tactics won't frighten me, Niijima-senpai." The further they got, the more she devolved into nonsensical buzzwords that didn't even apply. Strawman! Whataboutism! Fearmongering! Shujin's military-industrial complex! What's next, 'Niijima Empowers Union Busters Everywhere?!"
"She's very passionate about her club," Haru said.
"She's sick in the head."
I almost feel guilty for not being as angry as Makoto toward Kimi. I've disliked her and that club since our interview, but I'm able to ignore them. Makoto seems stressed from encountering Kimi, Haru thought as they took their final steps to the door to the roof. I would like to tell Makoto that she doesn't need to stick up for me… But she does. I couldn't have told Kimi off as well as she did, and if I was on my own, she would have gotten that interview one way or another.
"Thank you." Haru grabbed the door and opened it for Makoto as she spoke, bringing a confused look to Makoto's face.
"For?"
Haru nodded her head to the stairs. She held the door by leaning back against it, still waiting for Makoto to walk through. Some sunlight peeked through the door and into the stairwell, but November's clouds kept it limited.
"Yelling at her." Haru couldn't get the point across in the way that Makoto did. She decided not to be jealous about it because it would require her to be angry, an emotion she saved exclusively for her fa—
"Oh, yeah… It was a bit much, wasn't it?" Makoto may have had red embarrassment on her face, but she laughed and walked through the door. "And don't worry about thanking me. I let that club get away with too much."
Haru let the door shut behind her. They walked toward the garden, which bore no plants at that moment. Haru had harvested just a week prior and its newest additions were beneath the soil's surface. Besides watering, there wasn't much work to be done, unless all Makoto's studying helped her learn to build a weather dome over Tokyo. The garden had a difficult stretch of months ahead if Haru chose to continue planting. Anything beyond the current batch had a chance to be a waste of time and money.
"I'm afraid there isn't much work to be done."
They stood above the soil, looking down. Haru's hands found her own hips as she tried to navigate Makoto's sure-fire disappointment.
"Really? What if we planted something new, or—"
"The garden is full, the soil's been aerated… Sorry."
"At least let me do the watering for you." Makoto walked around the garden to grab the watering can that was always left behind.
As Makoto got to work on filling the watering can, Haru retreated from the garden. The work to keep her occupied didn't exist and she couldn't pull menial tasks out of a hat. Left with nothing but her thoughts, she sat down at the closest abandoned desk. Half her view was the garden and the AC unit, the other half was the silver and gray verticality that were Shujin's neighbors. The clouds didn't help, either.
Haru watched as Makoto gently tipped the watering can over the garden. Watering the garden that day meant she could go the whole week without worrying. They were due for rain, and the lack of sunlight meant that the soil wouldn't dry out anytime soon. Makoto erased Haru's daily tasks by letting each drop of water hit the dirt.
She thought about starting another garden, one not restricted by a subway ride across the city from where she lived. Ann had a yard… But Haru realized that she needn't consider Ann's home as hers anymore. Father is gone. I can return anytime I wish, Haru thought, and not in a way that left it as a possibility—moving back into her own home was inevitable. But I don't want an argument from Ann. She'll insist that I stay when I'd rather leave without telling because it's easier.
She did have the Okumura fortune to herself and could build however many greenhouses she liked, then she wouldn't have to worry about what she would spend her Winter free time on.
"Haru?"
Haru realized she'd faded into her own thoughts, leaving her eyes on the rough surface of the desk. She looked up to see Makoto staring at her. "Y-yes, Mako-chan?" Makoto had finished watering and joined Haru by taking the abandoned desk a few feet to her left.
"I'm going to ask something of you and it'll sound weird," she said, "but you have to agree."
So this is why she removed me from the assembly, Haru thought. She didn't want to commit to any promises she couldn't keep, so she stayed silent and only gave Makoto a nod for continuance, not agreement.
"Don't go to Maruki."
"Excuse me?"
"I know you heard his goodbye—I don't know what you thought of it—but you cannot visit the nurse's office under any circumstances." Haru felt like Kimi Kawano with how stern Makoto had become. "Any conversation you have with him advances his self-interests, not yours. He…"
"B-but he's a counselor, a therapist! Futaba-chan—"
"Maruki's convinced Futaba to lie to herself. Wasn't it weird how quickly she was able to go out in public after being a shut-in for years? Remember the volleyball team, the source of every problem at this school until Kobayakawa mandated counseling sessions with Maruki? They were out of the picture immediately." Haru stayed silent while she thought of the examples, leaving Makoto the opportunity to press the advantage. "Yoshizawa, the student with him all year long? Administration forced her to transfer and Maruki didn't spend any time fighting for her."
"But Maruki-sensei is… Kind. He cares more than any other teacher."
"He's not who you want in your corner, Haru. No matter how tough it is, how down you feel, I'm begging you to talk to me, talk to Ann, or anyone in GRAVY."
Maruki smiled through Haru's memory, right onto the roof. She felt her surroundings brighten as the clouds finally broke right over the garden. It was too perfect to be true and Haru didn't believe it to be real, even if she saw it with her own two eyes, just like Maruki looking directly at her as he invited all students to speak with him.
"Okay. I can do that."
Makoto smiled and nodded, relinquishing the tension and finally relaxing in her seat.
"I always forget why these desks are abandoned until I sit in one…" She stood up and pressed her hands into her back to stretch. "How the Hell do Ren and Ryuji hang out up here so much?"
"Their postures have changed for the worse."
"Ryuji…" Makoto weighed the idea by nodding side to side. "Sure, his posture's rough, but Ren?"
"You're biased, Mako-chan. He hunches."
"No, I doubt it…" Makoto's words lacked conviction—a nice change from how serious she'd been when speaking about Maruki. Haru appreciated the change in levity so she played into it a bit more.
"Next time you see him, look closely. If I'm right, you'd better correct him. Nobody wants back issues when they're old."
Wednesday, 11/2
Lunch's bell sprang the class into action, causing the usual commotion of chairs scooting, feet hurrying, and students chatting. The palpable excitement stood out to Haru, who lagged behind the class in every way. She packed her bag with caution, delicately pushed her chair in, and couldn't even rush out the door to her half-hour of freedom like everyone else.
Her lack of speed proved to be the right way to operate, though. "Okumura-chan," said the teacher who'd inserted herself into Haru's assembly-assisted boredom a day prior. Haru turned away from the door, stopping a few feet away from it, to face her approaching teacher. "Enjoying class today?"
"Oh, yes. Very much so." Haru would've added an example from that day's lecture to show that she was being genuine, except she hadn't paid attention all morning. Her ears still rang with the nonstop notifications of her lawyers.
"Good, good." When the teacher stopped, she crossed her arms. Haru hoped a personal lecture wasn't about to follow the academic one. Teachers lowering themselves to Earth to understand their students was perfectly fine, but it made Haru tremendously uncomfortable. The look on her teacher's face reminded her of Kobayakawa giving that speech. "I hope your days are as easy as possible, and I don't mean to add to any stress, but I have a message to pass on."
Haru hoped it was a message that told her to keep working hard at her grades, not one that told her to keep her head up.
"Maruki-san would like to speak with you in the nurse's office now." Haru crossed Maruki off her list of thoughts when she agreed to Makoto's request because she had more pressing things to worry about. Thinking of his invitation was useless compared to the worrying she could do over lawyers, inheritances, and corporate turmoil. "Don't worry—he said you may eat your lunch during your conversation."
If she didn't think of him, he definitely thought of her. The personal invitation confirmed that he had directed at least some of his goodbye at the assembly to her, and it told her that he considered her important—important to advancing his own interests. Haru strengthened her guard before even departing from her class. She would be ready for the nurse's office, no doubt.
"Thank you, Igarashi-sensei." Haru half nodded, half bowed, getting a smile from her teacher that wished her well for the rest of the lunch period. She left the classroom but stopped right outside the door.
Right or left… Left means I have to walk past Ren and Ryuji at the store—that would delay me. Right means passing a few clubs, but fewer distractions. Haru looked both ways and chose the best direction, turning right and adopting a quick pace. She didn't want her thoughts to linger on Maruki for long. Makoto warned me, yes, but what exactly could Maruki want from me? If he is out for himself and only himself, how do I contribute? Part of her felt like the answer should've been obvious; the other part of her felt stupid for not realizing.
I could skip the meeting. It would be incredibly rude and reflect poorly on me, potentially creating a meeting with Kobayakawa about my respect for our faculty. Would I have to make an excuse? The answer to that question came easier, especially with Makoto's opinion of Maruki starting to assimilate with Haru's own. If Maruki is so caring, he wouldn't report me for skipping the meeting—he would understand.
Haru's chosen route left her with few sights to see. As soon as she crossed into the practice building, the nurse's office was right in front of her. She didn't hesitate to knock. "Ah, Okumura-chan. I'm glad you're here," Maruki said immediately when opening the door, so soon in fact that Haru wondered how he knew it was her. Any student could've knocked, invited or not.
"Thank you, sensei."
Haru crossed through the held door, taking no time to look around or stop to appreciate Maruki's manners. She plopped herself on the couch and wove her hands together on her lap, leaving her bag at her side. Maruki took a second to look at her, pausing as if she'd done something wrong, but sat down in his chair anyway.
"I hope your days haven't been difficult," Maruki said. He crossed a leg over the other, letting his knee hang comfortably. "And you have my sincerest condolences."
Haru didn't want to accidentally let too much slip—she kept things simple. "Thank you," she said with a nod, though she couldn't meet Maruki's eyes. Looking directly at the half-empty bowl of chocolates on the table was much easier.
"Sorry. You've probably heard that a lot, right?" He seemed like he was on stage saying goodbye again with how every word almost ended with a tension-deflating chuckle. "I don't want you to think you have to talk about recent events—I just wanna catch up with you and see how you're doing before I leave. That's okay, I hope."
"I understand." Haru considered her words carefully, filtering each thought through the advice Makoto instilled in her on the roof. "Life's been too hectic for me stop and process." Words flowed easily once she began speaking and that filter broke. "Go to school, go meet a lawyer, then I'll meet a different lawyer for some other branch of the company, then I have to get home and do homework—which I can't finish because I can't sleep enough to think—and then I'll lay in bed and wait for the sun to come up."
"Administration would understand if you took some mental health days. Nobody wants you working yourself sick, Haru."
"I do. I want the work." Haru could rest when the accumulating lawsuits were handily settled in favor of the pursuing parties, when she finished that book report that snuck up on her, and when everyone stopped saying her name behind her back. Until then, the work made life quick. "Maybe I'll sleep better the more tired I get."
Maruki frowned, then sighed. Haru disliked the judgment from a person with dubious motives, but that didn't change how right he probably was. "That's an unhealthy coping process." Haru didn't want to argue and Maruki didn't want to elaborate—they understood each other. Rather than debate, Maruki moved on. "What do your friends think?"
They were wonderful. Ann already gave her a place to live, but taking over cooking duties the past few nights made Haru's shoulders lighter. The food quality wasn't quite there—the thought counted for a lot, though. Futaba and Ryuji invited her to play games with them on Ann's console—an offer that was appreciated and declined. Yusuke sent unknown art pieces at the crack of dawn each day without any captions. Haru interpreted them for herself; some showed resilience with brightness, some were sad with cool colors, and her favorites were realistic landscapes that had no message at all.
Other than a texted offer to buy lunch, Ren was quiet. Haru didn't fault him—she knew he had as much trouble saying something as she did hearing it. As for Makoto, she showed her support in a different way…
"They're supportive."
"Are they doing enough?"
What kind of question was that? Of course they're doing enough, Haru thought. If they did any more, she'd feel like the pitied odd one out of the group. She dreaded the next club event for that reason: special treatment.
"Yes, they are. I'm surprised you'd ask something like that."
Maruki smiled like a lovably guilty character, the kind that only appeared in cheesy TV shows that cared little for substance. "Asking questions is the job. I'm just making sure you have the proper support system to handle something like this. In fact, that concern led me to invite you here."
"Oh?"
"Ren is a mutual friend of ours. Did he point you in my direction?"
Haru knew of Ren's sessions with Maruki because she vividly remembered him complaining about them after Kobayakawa dolled it out as a punishment. Based on Haru's knowledge, 'Friend' might've been a stretch. They were confidential conversations, though. "N-no, he didn't…"
"Not even a mention?"
"No."
"Strange. I thought he and I developed a great relationship…" Maruki sighed, dragging his hands up his armrests and folding them across his lap. He smiled at Haru with pursed lips, a smile that gave up responsibility for the situation. "I've become more lenient with forcing these meetings on him lately, so I suppose it's my fault. I hope he doesn't think our sessions are just, I don't know, an item on a checklist—something he has to get done before he hangs out with his friends."
"I'm sure he appreciates your time and effort"
Maruki looked at the chocolate bowl. "That's what I've heard all week. Not many have visited me to say goodbye. I try and try, put in all this effort to always lend an ear to students in need, and it's forgotten. Administration did hire me as a bandage—this is the only way a situation like that could've ended."
The words were being said for her, the conversation skewed heavily in one direction, and Haru had little to say. "Maruki-sensei…"
"You and I can relate to one another. We just want those we care about to be happy, to not have to worry about the troubles that haunt them, but it's an unattainable goal, isn't it?" His spiel reminded Haru of all the reasons Makoto gave her to not go. Maruki may have had a point, he may have voiced something she could only think, but his honesty made her uncomfortable. She already knew that she disliked being pitied—were the goosebumps on her arms a symptom of that? "That task gets muddied by everything around it. I have the principal and administration breathing down my neck; you're beset with personal tragedies you've played no part in. The people larger than us crush our goals."
Goals? Haru just wanted to garden. Granted, Shujin's limited tolerance of her hobby confined her to the small roof corner against the AC unit and her late father's strictness bound her from leaving the home during the arranged marriage, but it was just gardening. Not like her life depended on it, or anything that demanded to be taken seriously.
She needed to speak carefully. Maruki's indescribable agenda reared its head.
"Some people have conflicting goals. My friends and I disagree at times, but—"
"Such as?"
"I don't know if—"
"Niijima-san is a resolute young woman. I'm sure you have your arguments."
"We have no issues, if that's what you're asking."
"Oh no, I didn't mean to ask or imply anything. Forgive me for assuming."
"It's alright." It wasn't. Haru wanted to storm out and call Makoto without considering the consequences Maruki could exact on her, yet the seat held her like it was coated with glue. Could she not stand? Could she not empower herself?
"I speak quicker than I think sometimes. I just…" Maruki sighed but seemed rejuvenated with conversational energy. He sat up straight, placed his hands back on the armrests, and unfolded his legs. He even managed to fix his clumsy glasses that almost tripped and fell right off his nose, adjusting them to the perfect position to stay until he wanted them gone. "Your independence is important to me, especially now when there's a whole world of people out there looking to take advantage of you. Don't let anyone tell you what to think or make decisions—even just one—for you. You're more than mature enough to handle yourself, Okumura-chan."
I agree, Haru thought. When I know what's best for me, there's nobody I need to listen to. Maruki hadn't convinced her of a thing, though—he just told her what she already knew.
"Am I free to leave, Maruki-sensei?" she said, hands tensed together in a hug that sapped them of their color.
"Yes, you are. Thank you for coming." She stood on cue and started walking to the door. Manners could wait. "My number is listed on Shujinstagram if you have any conc—"
The door slammed shut and Haru heard the last of Takuto Maruki and his shaded implications.
Haru's hand dove behind her books and swept them off her desk and right into the wide jaws of her suitcase. They fell open-faced onto her pile of things that weren't clothes—that was what the other suitcase was for. Her current one bore everything interesting in her room at Ann's: a clap-triggered lamp, a boxed makeup kit, and her trusty handheld mirror among many other trinkets that made Ann's guest room hers.
Once finished with the books, she shut the flap of the suitcase and bent over to zip it up. She didn't expect standing up to be so jarring. The sight of the transformed room gave her the same feeling as standing up too quickly. Her eyes fluttered and something swam behind her forehead. Cleaning the room out didn't feel right, but it had to be done.
Haru needed change. She couldn't bear another day of burdening Ann, of weighing someone else down. The only person she needed to trouble was herself—she was mature enough for that. Haru was of age to be an adult and couldn't put off acting like one for much longer. That started with changing her environment to one she was in control of.
I'll have to hire new staff, she thought as soon as the image of the Okumura mansion flashed in her head. The old staff, besides being too traumatized, were hired by her father. No matter if their loyalty made them bitter towards Haru—they were reminders that needed to go. New staff would learn how to best operate under Haru's command and she could mold them as she wished.
It was the first of many changes for the Okumura name. The Iwatodai mansion was to be sold—an act handled entirely by the estate lawyer until the price could be brought to Haru for final confirmation. Big Bang Burger's developing branches were closing and Okumura Foods de-emphasized expansion, instead choosing to focus on internal affairs. Most of the lawsuits aimed at the company would be settled by the corporation paying.
As for the ones that wouldn't be settled, Haru didn't know what to do. They were courtesy of spectating dogs hoping to get a piece of the pie—people with no real stake in the battle for worker rights and workplace standards, just a desire to claim power and money. Haru hoped the system would recognize them as illegitimate lawsuits, but she had her doubts.
All of it was the start of Haru finally taking control of her name. She wouldn't be ashamed to be an Okumura, she would introduce herself with pride.
And so, moving out was the first step. Living with Ann was all well and good, but it stressed Haru's friend financially and in other ways, surely. They both needed independence.
Haru looked around the room. Both suitcases were zipped tight, the desk and dresser were clear of her additions, and the floors sat clean of any mess she may have left. Only the bed got to keep its possessions, as Haru didn't bring her own sheets. She had washed them after getting home from school, getting no second looks from Ann because it wasn't unusual.
The room, however, did make Ann double-take. "Haru!" Haru jumped and turned around, seeing her friend standing in the doorway. "What do you think you're doing?!" she yelled, sounding angry like a parent that caught their kid next to a destroyed plant pot.
"I'm moving out." Haru knew she was quiet, so quiet that she thought it impossible for her voice to reach Ann in the doorway. She opened her mouth to repeat herself with power, but Ann's face soured and shut her up.
"Oh, Haru…" Ann entered the room without asking. She carefully stepped over the suitcases, taking note of all the cleared surfaces in the room, then flopped onto the bed that Haru worked so hard to perfect when she remade it. "Sit, please." Haru took a seat a few feet down the bed from Ann. "I won't stop you if you've made up your mind and it's the best thing for you. But…"
Haru finished the thought for her. "You don't think I'm making the right choice." Everyone she spoke to the past few days seemed to have that opinion.
"I don't. You've been quiet and alone since Halloween, which isn't a problem. We just don't talk like we used to. I don't want you moving out if you think something has changed between us because I really like you as a housemate, honestly."
"I'm leaving because I want to stand on my own." That had something to do with Ann, obviously, so Haru had to say otherwise. "It has nothing to do with you."
"But… Why? Why do you have to do this on your own?"
"Why do you want me to stay?"
"Because you're already pushing your friends away and if you leave, then you're isolated. I don't—"
"Really, Ann? You'd prefer if I stay here and live off the food you buy and the bills your family pays? If I invade every study session you have with Ryuji?"
"You're not invading—we like spending time with you!" That was impossible. They were a couple—they had to be a little peeved at Haru's constant presence in the house. "And what's with you wanting to stand on your own? You've never said anything like this, even before Halloween, and you know that Ryuji, Ren, or anyone else in the group is happy to help out. We can help you stand, Haru."
Ann answered her own question; it was Halloween. Kunikazu's death set everything in motion—the lawyers, that assembly, Makoto's out-of-character check-up, Maruki's invi— Maruki… I despised him by the end of that meeting, but this is what he wanted for me: independence. Why am I thinking like him? Why am I agreeing with him? All the lost sleep gripped Haru's eyes with a constant burn that felt like it would never go away, even if she napped for a whole day. Life blurred together and made less sense, so when Maruki pissed her off, he really cracked through the surface and awakened thoughts that lurked all along.
There was no point Haru could make that shot down Ann's arguments. Every possible thing had a reasonable counter, each attempt to convince Ann of Haru's perceived lack of individuality ended with Ann being right.
"I-I know you're right," Haru admitted. She looked up from her feet that dangled just short of touching the carpeted floor, making eye contact with Ann. "I haven't been thinking right. Do you… Do you think I can stay longer?"
"Stay as long as you like. And if you ever consider this again, we'll sit down and have a conversation about it. You living here isn't a problem in the slightest—remember that."
Haru smiled. "Thank you."
Thursday, 11/3
"Listen to this shit: 'President Becomes Tyrant—How The Student Council Oppresses Your Freedom.' The eff am I reading?!" Ryuji dropped his phone onto the desk, getting a metallic clang in response. Haru winced at the recklessness, but it was Ryuji's phone to break. "I'm pissed that they keep getting away with it!"
Shujin's GRAVY members loitered atop the school in a jumble of abandoned desks. Ren, Makoto, and Haru were in a curved row while Ann and Ryuji sat side by side. In between the two sides, Ren's phone leaned against his book bag so Futaba and Yusuke could join in from face time. Futaba's dark room was lit by sparse neon lights and her screen's reflection on her glasses. Yusuke seemed to be in his dorm, judging by the bed in the background, but one could never truly know what he was up to.
"God, really?" Ann picked up the phone and read the headline to herself. "Wow… Kawano has no life. Don't you feel a little bad for her?"
Yusuke spoke up from Ren's phone screen. "No. I hope her soup is too hot and her silverware scrapes her tongue to the end of her days."
"She isn't even your problem, man."
"I made her my problem. Please, tell me what you think of this painting I did to exercise my horribly violent thoughts about Kawano-san." Yusuke moved out of frame, taking a few seconds to drag a pitch-black canvas into view.
"There's no painting," Ren said. "Just blackness."
"It is the painting. Don't you feel the emotion? The bleakness?"
"Nope."
"Then I am still in my slump!" Yusuke picked the painting up, spun with all the centripetal force he could muster, and hurled the canvas into the wall of his dorm. It broke in half and landed atop his bed.
What a horrible waste of materials, Haru thought.
"Uh, anyway…" Ren spoke while taking his turn to look at Ryuji's phone and Kawano's newest article that slandered his girlfriend. Makoto peeked over his shoulder, but the arrangement of the desks kept her just out of reach of getting a good view. "The article is shit, but the comments aren't agreeing with her for once. Here's my favorite: 'Kimi-chan must be a terrible cook because she's adding too much salt to something that doesn't need it. Stick to reporting the usual facts,' says Showtime-Shujinko-Seven."
"Pfft, the usual facts?" Ren passed the phone to Ann who scrolled through the comments much faster than he did. "This article is her usual."
Haru liked Ren's point—it was the first time the comment sections weren't worship for the Newspaper Club. "At least students are disagreeing with her. Maybe this school is changing."
"Thanks for saying that, Haru, and for pointing that out, Ren." Makoto waved at Ann to pass the phone back to Ryuji, then nodded at him to put the phone away once he received it. They had met on the roof for a purpose, after all. "But before we start, Ren… Could you sit up straight, please? You too, Ryuji."
"What the eff?!"
Ren shook his head. "Completely uncalled for." He listened anyway, grimacing as his back straightened. His corrected posture must have reminded him how uncomfortable the abandoned desks were for people with straight spines. Ryuji, on the other hand, embraced the slouch and sank even more of his body below his desk. He gave Makoto a cocky smile as his eyes approached the altitude of his desk.
Makoto stared back. Telling Kimi Kawano off came without expectations because they weren't on good terms. Ordering Ryuji to do something came with expectations that weren't met, and a fight brewed because of it. "Ryuji, sit up st—"
Ren shot out of his seat. "Welcome one and all to November third's meeting of Gardeners Raging Against Veganism Yearly!" His rapid pace ended the staredown and confused the members too bored to pay attention. "Today we're here to talk shit about the Newspaper Club and…" All the eyes on Ren sobered him up, removing his energy, humor, and life. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before he spoke again. "We're really here to support Haru, so no more worrying about things that aren't part of the club. Focus up, guys."
He sat down, leaving behind a silence that nobody dared to end. Haru looked from person to person practically begging them to speak up so she didn't have to say the first words.
"In Halloween's wake, our little club has become more important to all of us, even if we don't realize it," Makoto said as she stood up, getting everyone's attention in the process. "More than ever, we need to depend on each other and only each other. We—"
"Question!" Ryuji raised his hand. "What about my mom? You ain't taking my mom away from me, Makoto. No way."
"I should rephrase…" Makoto sat up straight and directed her new explanation at Ryuji. "We've become involved in events greater than ourselves. When it comes to discussing those events, we should only depend on each other. So yes, Ryuji, you can depend on your mother, but you cannot tell her about our history with the Prince. Understood?"
"Yep."
"A good example of how we should operate moving forward is Haru. Everyone has been available to her and has supported her—we'll continue like that." Makoto eyed Haru and that gesture directed everyone else to look at her. The attention was weird, even when they were talking about something as simple as supporting her. "It goes the other way, too. Reaching out first is important."
Ann nodded, Ryuji silently clapped, Futaba forgot that video games reflected off her glasses, Yusuke cleaned up his broken canvas, and Ren silently watched. They paid attention in their own ways.
"...That's all I have," Makoto finished, clasping her hands together and relaxing in her seat. "Would anyone like to follow up?"
Ann, Ryuji, and Haru looked at Ren, who seemed flattered by the attention. Still, he shook his head and turned the invisible microphone away to allow someone else to take the spotlight. Nobody was inclined.
If these awkward silences and instances of being spoken about are so insufferable, why not take charge? Haru asked herself. Why not end the silence yourself?
"Thank you all for assembling and…" She gestured at the phone, where Yusuke traced circles into his forehead and Futaba's glasses showed her adeptly slaying a godly spear-wielding elderly man. "...Participating. I appreciate it, truly, even if I've been quiet. I guess that's why I'm talking now…" She knew it was a wasted sentence, but that was the point—she was stalling. "I'm still waiting for my world to settle a bit, but all of you have been wonderfully constant. Thank you for that."
Ryuji smirked, looking at Ren with a joke held behind pursed lips. Haru could almost hear, "Yep, we're super effin' constant."
"Yesterday, I went to see Maruki-sensei and he…" Haru stuttered to a stop because Makoto quit giving her attention. A turn of the head and the collective noticing of the stoppage hurt Haru, but she couldn't call any more attention to the fact that she betrayed Makoto. "All he did was make me realize that you all are the ones who can help me, not him."
On Futaba's camera, her reflected video game paused. Haru hoped she wasn't paying too much attention to the demeaning remark about her therapist that helped her so much, but her truth took priority over Futaba's opinion. If Futaba had anything to say, it didn't come out.
"Doc's always helpful like that," Ryuji said. "You take any of his chocolate? I heard a rumor that they're stale and—" Ann punched him in the shoulder and that was the end of that. Haru laughed at the exchange, which made her the odd one out on a roof of silence.
"Anyway, I… Don't have much else to say." When the nods and hums that ended every speaker's turn with the invisible microphone came, she realized that she was a liar. "Oh! And you're all welcome at the garden anytime. That's it."
She passed the microphone to Ren, who stood up and put on a prime-minister-smile. "Thank you, Haru. Unless we have an unscheduled discussion topic, then I'm happy to conclude today's meeting. Thanks for coming, and have a gr—"
"What about this?" Makoto's hand shot out of her bag and placed a familiar black card on the table.
And I thought they were quiet for me… I wonder how Makoto feels? Haru couldn't bear to look at the card, so she looked from person to person. Ren returned to his poor posture, Ryuji never left but now he squirmed in his seat, Ann seemed genuinely offended, Yusuke leaned so close to the camera that his sparkling pores got through the low definition, and the reflection in Futaba's glasses went black because she turned her game off.
Ren managed words. "That's, uh… That's a fun thing to close a meeting out with."
"What, we can't take this seriously?" Makoto jammed her finger into the heart of the card. "Like it or not, this is an attack on Ren, one that frames him as public enemy number one. This is something none of us can let slip because only we understand it."
Ryuji summed the mood up easily. "Jeez…" He had gotten serious, but it didn't show in his posture. His arms crossed and he kicked his feet up on his desk, showing the pebbles wedged in the bottom of his shoes. "I mean, are we doing any understanding here? I don't get it."
"It's simple: Ren is innocent, this calling card was created to make it seem otherwise."
"And it was dropped off at his apartment," Ann added. "Why not just go upstairs and settle whatever issues they have with Ren with Ren?"
"Because Ryuji 'Effin' Sakamoto, Champion of Champions, is in my corner and feared across the world."
"Hell yeah!"
When nobody laughed but those two, the rest of the group patiently waited for order to be restored. Once Makoto had her desired silence, she gave the right answer. "Because he hasn't served his purpose yet. They've already incriminated him, they just need to start the witch hunt."
'They' was a scary word. It held weight with each member of GRAVY despite not holding any value within its details, its specifics. It mentioned nobody and everyone at the same time, and it implied the existence of authority against all of them.
"So add the Illuminati to the list right below God, the volleyball team, volleyball as a sport, the Newspaper Club, Eiko Takao, Kobayakawa, Teddie, Iwai's kid, Tony the concierge, Mishima, and Goro Akechi." Ryuji each off on his fingers. "Damn, that's more than I thought. Eh, doesn't matter. I don't care if Risette's tryna kill you, man—I've got your back, and so does everyone else."
"I fear I'll have to back out of that obligation," Yusuke said. "Risette is a friend. The thought of harming her—ugh! It is unbearable!"
"Uh… It was an example…"
"Then it was a foul example. Shame on you!"
Ryuji stood up and put his finger in front of Ren's camera—a gesture that wouldn't contribute to anyone's argument, digital or physical. "Shame on me?! Shame on—"
Ren stood up, grabbed his phone and bag, and commanded the group. "That concludes today's meeting of Gardeners Raging Against Vegans Yearly. I'd love to commune for longer, but, unfortunately, I have a meeting with Maruki-sensei that I gotta get to."
Ren is too adverse to authority to fall for any tricks. He doesn't need any advice from me; I believe in him, Haru thought, staying silent like the rest of the group, all of them except Makoto.
"Do you have to go?"
"It's required, or else Kobayakawa kicks me out. Sorry." His answer didn't satisfy Makoto; a fact that he noticed and tried to rectify. "But you can come over for a movie tonight, maybe...?"
"Wow, real effin' smooth…"
Makoto shook her head as the rest of the group laughed Ren's response into invalidation.
"How's November been so far?"
"My beard's grown in," Ren answered as he felt up his hairless—though fuzzy—chin. His personal quest for a wizard beard was a long way off.
I'd do evil things for just a bit of decent-looking facial hair, even Maruki's patch of near-nothing would do. But a beard worthy of fantasy books… That's the dream.
Maruki chuckled at Ren's lack. "Impressive. That's all you've done—grow an excessive amount of facial hair?"
"My cat is overweight. Took him on a walk the other day."
"You're more sarcastic than usual."
"Sarcastic?"
Maruki hummed, pausing whatever retort wanted to roll off his tongue. He chose his words carefully through a slow, deliberate pace that chopped up what he said. "This is our last session, Ren. I'd like it if you would take it a bit more seriously. You'd get more out of it, too."
Fuck off. I enjoyed these at one point, but what I know now has ruined all of that. Maruki got Kobayakawa to require these counseling sessions for a reason: I am the most interesting student in Tokyo, obviously. Yet despite my unparalleled superiority, I don't get a thing out of this. I'm just doing this so I can go home, do some homework, take Morgana for a walk, lose to Futaba in Rash Toes, and go to bed. Counseling isn't part of my simple life.
"Our conversations this year have been something I've looked forward to. You're an interesting student, Ren."
I mean, I was just joking but if you insist…
"Thanks?"
"Most students don't want to disagree with me—you're different. I present agreeable ideas that you shoot down so quickly that it confuses me, and I still don't have an answer as to why you can't just agree."
Agreeable ideas? Get the fuck out of here.
"Sorry. I don't have an answer for you." Ren never obliged Maruki's request to take the conversation seriously. "We don't really get along, I think."
"Hm, that's unfortunate. Still, I'm proud of how you've grown—facial hair not included—and your willingness to question everything. It's fascinating, really."
Two months ago, this would shoot my ego through the roof. Now… They're empty words. I wonder if he gave Haru a similar talk.
"And your club, your friends—you all have such strong bonds. Nothing can drive you apart."
"Maruki-sensei, thanks for saying all this, but… Come on. Really? How much of this needs to be said, and how much of it is you dancing around the point? Wasting words during a required meeting is lame."
"Indeed, it is. That's why I haven't wasted a word. I've saved my commendations for you until now, the end of our sessions." Maruki's confidence shrunk two sizes, wounded by Ren rejecting the praise. "You don't want to hear them?"
"Honestly… No. Hearing that I'm so interesting and fascinating is total bullshit when all I've done is say, 'No, I don't agree.' So… Cut to the point. I know we're here to conclude things, but it's never that cut and dry in the nurse's office."
"Perceptive as always." Maruki's glasses and winning smile flashed with glaring light. "I wanted to give you some confidence before I summed up our debates with a question. I'm curious if that confidence changes your answer."
"Sorry for spoiling your experiment."
"Oh no! You haven't spoiled a thing, only made yourself more interesting, in fact."
"Nice try."
Maruki smirked. "Don't blame me for the attempt. Ready for the question?" Ren shrugged because what else was he to do? "This is a hypothetical created by an American philosopher, you may have heard it before. Here's the paraphrased version: imagine a machine, a hunk of metal with no windows or exit points. This machine contains a person—a subject."
Test subject? Would this machine be referred to as the "Nurse's Office?"
"For its user, its subject, it stimulates their brain and simulates an entire reality for them, one that is preferable to whatever life they had before they entered the machine. The new reality excludes experiences considered negative and ensures that the patient cannot distinguish the new from the old. That patient would stay inside the machine until the end of their days." Maruki's dystopian hypothetical didn't confuse Ren, nor did it shake his confidence in himself. He knew his answer before Maruki said one word about a reality machine. "Disregard societal implications, disregard personal obligations—do you, Ren Amamiya, use the machine?"
I dunno, is sarcasm considered negative? I think the machine would delete me from my own reality.
"No. I wouldn't. What's the point?"
Maruki shrugged. "The point is your view on happiness, or even the simplification of that emotion—pleasure; feeling good; the lack of harmful external factors, and the presence of positive ones."
It's a scary hypothetical that isn't too far off. Maruki's version isn't accurate—they won't have full reality simulation. It'll probably just be porn, honestly. That's the sad truth of it. Or is it the happy truth? If it's just for porn, then are we avoiding something truly detrimental to the human race? See, this is a much more interesting thing to debate than a happiness machine.
"My answer's the same. If you offered me that pleasure machine," Ren tried not to cringe at the implication of those last two words, "at the start of the school year when I had no friends, no life, and nothing to look forward to, I'd have gotten in without a second thought. But now, I have friends who've been tested by a long year and I have a future to look forward to. Getting in that machine solves nothing, it just delays the inevitable, which is having to do a little work to be happy."
"It delays nothing. It suspends unhappiness and replaces it with immediate—and permanent—satisfaction. You still wouldn't take it?"
"No. It's bullshit. I'd be happy in that machine, dancing and frolicking through fields of flowers probably, but it goes against what's made this year a success for me, even if it's…" Success was a stupid word to label Ren's year. He was proud of what he had done, but success? Maybe to the naïve Ren that arrived back in April. To the mature Ren of November, there was a lot of room for improvement. Maybe the knowledge that he could be better was the true success. "Even if it sucked at times. Getting in that machine is giving up."
Maruki smiled. "Thank you for your time." Unlike every other dismissal from the nurse's office, Maruki didn't grant Ren permission to leave—he extended a hand instead. "Not just today, but for the year. And thank you for trusting me with your thoughts, your problems, and your friends. You all are wonderful people." Ren shook Maruki's hand, finding a lot of warmth in the gesture. The man opposite of him was the friendliest person on Earth, yet Ren planned on wiping his hand on his pants as soon as he was out of the nurse's office. "Don't break the friend group up too soon," Maruki joked with a chuckle.
Ren wanted to retaliate with an equally stupid remark. "Don't… Find a new teenager to have philosophical debates with anytime soon."
"Oh, I won't. You're irreplaceable. Goodbye, Amamiya-kun."
How beautiful would it be if I didn't say goodbye? Just flipping him the bird and moonwalking out the door… Ah, the thought is wonderful. Too bad I'm a coward.
"See you around, sensei."