“And
that’s how it is,” Jirou
said.
Well that
explains why Christina’s gone on a crusade,
Ulf thought.
“Urufu,
I planned to come back as well, promise.” Then Jirou first looked
down and after that glanced at the door to the café proper. “I
want to stay with Sango, but I’m too afraid about what would happen
to her if she transferred back. I
guess I’m not as strong as you.”
Ulf
couldn’t answer that. He was enough of a dinosaur to understand why
you would want to protect your girl. His own egalitarian ideals be
damned. When it came to
hurting girls he was just as old fashioned as the morons he despised.
In his world hurting boys simply wasn’t as bad. He knew he was
wrong in thinking so, but he just didn’t care.
“So
we’re staying at Irishima High. I’m sorry.”
Despite
fuming with rage Ulf grinned. He couldn’t but feel pride from
seeing how what he taught rubbed off. “So you called her and you
both got your parents onboard?”
“All
six of us,” Jirou said. “I think the rest wanted to stay anyway.”
“Six?”
Jirou
grinned. “Sakura and Nori as well.”
That
made four.
“Midori
and Ando.”
Ulf
didn’t know those two had planned to return as well. Two?
“When did...”
That
bought him a laugh. “Just after midterms. They kept it a secret.
But really Urufu! You must have noticed her new hairdo.”
He
hadn’t.
“I’d
hate being your girlfriend,” Jirou said and smirked.
“I
apologise.”
“It’s
not me you should be apologising to,” Jirou said. He
looked down and keyed some more notes for club activities into his
laptop. “You know, you’re strange somehow. At times you’re just
like the hero of last year’s cultural festival, and then suddenly
you’re so socially
inept I’m astonished.”
Ulf
rose from his chair. The conversation was turning into a direction he
didn’t like. “It’s just girls,” he said. “I really don’t
get them, even if I pretend I do,” he added.
Pushing
the narrow door open Ulf left Jirou and the dangerous topic behind
him. There was no way explaining the discrepancies between his
experience and the way he looked now. At least understanding girls
was a hole in his abilities, a constant since his first days as a
high school student, and Ulf hoped that awkwardness was enough to
keep up the facade.
Ulf
barely made it halfway to the counter before he walked into Sango.
Literally. She reeled from the impact and fell backwards just to land
on her behind on the other side of the counter.
“Sorry,”
he said.
She
blushed red. “No it’s my fault.”
“Your
fault?”
“Sango,
stop eavesdropping,” Ulf heard from the inner room.
Eavesdropping?
Suddenly
the entire café opened up in laughter, and Ulf stared nonplussed at
the grinning faces by the table.
Oh!
“Fine,
I’ll believe the part about girls,” Jirou’s said, and Ulf could
hear that it was strangely broken as if the guy tried choking down a
guffaw.
Huh?
“Moron,”
Sango said, rose, brushed off her skirt and pushed her way past him
and vanished into the inner room.
“Moron,”
James whispered in a voice that was certain to carry through the
entrance and to the street outside.
What did I do
now?
“Moron-sama.”
Ulf
searched the tables for the voice. Back in the corner he saw its
owner sharing a table with Kyoko and Hitomi.
If
Noriko called him moron-sama he must have made some
kind of mistake. Ulf made a mental note to ask her about it when he
escorted her back home. Girls
crushing on him he was able to read, and girls playing games of power
were no problem, but all too
often their everyday thoughts
and reactions were beyond him.
He
nodded at James’ silent question for his order and made his way
between the tables.
The
club was, he noted, as large as ever before, but only nine members
wore the Himekaizen uniform, and officially they weren’t even
members since the student council disbanded the club. Or
rather Kareyoshi disbanded the club.
Halfway
to where Noriko sat Ulf heard the bell above the entrance jingle and
even before the door closed again an angry voice reached him.
“Hamarugen-san,
what’s the meaning of this?”
Meaning of
what? This was slowly turning
into one of his idiot days. He turned and met the glare of a senior
in a Himekaizen uniform. “How may I be of help, sempai?” Ulf said
with as deliberate as excessive formality.
The
senior briskly walked between tables and faced Ulf. “What kind of
stunt did you pull with the student council?”
Huh?
Yes, definitely an idiot day. With a sigh of regret Ulf sat down by
the closest table. Sharing some time with Noriko would have to wait.
He opened his palm and invited the senior to share his table, and as
by silent agreement both of them waited for James to arrive, first
with Ulf’s order and a little later a cup of Earl Gray.
During
the shared silence Ulf glanced at a stack of papers the senior held
in his right hand. The reason for the outrage was probably to be
found there.
“So,”
Ulf began after they both had their first sip of hot beverage, “could
you please fill me in in what way I overstepped this time?”
He
got another glare in return.
“Hamarugen-san,
we both know you ran the show last year, so when the current student
council breaks all tradition it’s clear you’re the one behind
it.”
Now
Ulf really wanted to
know what he had done. “Please enlighten me,” he said. Whatever it
was he was certain Kareyoshi or his goons were behind it.
For
the first time the stare Ulf got held surprise rather than anger.
“Look,” the senior said
and placed the stack of paper on the table, “every class and club
got tasks assigned for the cultural festival. No voting, no
suggesting, just an order to do as we’re told.”
“Kareyoshi
you little fuck, why don’t you just go die in the gutter?” Ulf
growled.
He stared at eyes widening. He
grabbed the papers and as he read irritation grew into anger and
wrath.
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