“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.”
“Ueno-san?”
“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.
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