Wednesday, 9 December 2015
Chapter three (segment fourteen), 2016, October, Nakagawa
“We have to tell them!”
Principal Nakagawa looked at the frantic student council president. “No!”
“Don't you have any feelings?”
“No. That's why I'm the principal and you're still just a student.”
She turned and walked for the doors. “You're right. We don't have to tell them, but I have to.”
“I won't allow that,” Nakagawa said. He followed her with his eyes, expecting her to stop and face him again.
With a wave she left his office. Her parting words lingered like a promise: “Whatever. Suspend me, expel me, do whatever, but I'm telling them. Learn to be human!”
Good for you, he thought. You're finally growing a backbone.
She wouldn't reach them in time to create chaos, and he wouldn't punish her for her insubordination. Hers was the morally correct choice and his the only working one. He needed the ambulances to leave through the service gates before the fashion show ended to avoid panic.
“How bad?” he asked the council treasurer who had remained in the office.
The gangly third year frowned before he answered. “All eight Red Rose students hospitalised. Hamarugen-san and Ueno-san as well.”
“Yes. He's the captain of the karate team. The rest of the team suffered superficial injuries at most, but we're sending them to the hospital just in case.”
Nakagawa scowled and rose from his chair. Looking out the windows he watched the absurd crowd on the school grounds below. Eight thousand or more according to the last report. Both gates were closed for new entrants and irritation grew by the minute. She said another four thousand expected. We can't let them in.
In a way the assault was a blessing. With police present on site people in the queue were unlikely to force the issue when denied entrance.
He waved the treasurer to his side. “Look at that,” he said and nodded at the gates. “Murakami-san, make sure Ageruman-san finishes her show in good order!”
The treasurer looked at the moving mass of people on both sides of the school gates. Nakagawa could see uncertainty and fear competing for space in the teenager's eyes.
What I did earlier was indecent, but this is inhuman. Nakagawa shook his head and dismissed Murakami. Forcing the arrivals to handle a situation like this was bad enough, but they were fifty years old mentally. Now that burden fell on the student council.
He'd help from the shadows of course. When Ageruman-san rose from the abyss and came after them like a vengeance demon he'd make certain the brunt of her attack was directed at him. With her rising fame she had the power to permanently terminate the future for both council president as well as its treasurer.
Well, all bets are off now. You went after one of the arrivals despite our agreement. Rage rose in him, a seething, smouldering rage. I'll give her free reins for revenge, and if Hamarugen-san survives I'll channel my hate through him. You'll find out westerners have a very different definition of hell than us Japanese.
At the moment there was very little he could do for the arrivals. Nakagawa looked at the phone on his desk. There was one thing. Despite working miracle after miracle the exchange club finally found themselves at wit's end to solve an impossible logistical problem.
He tapped a contact and placed the call. Abusing his power didn't come close to describe the order he gave. For what it was worth the festival wouldn't run out of supplies.