Just when we’d half given up, she arrived.
It was like magic. She parted the upperclassmen-packed hallway without stopping for even a moment. She gently pushed aside the elbow of a well-built swim club member and stood right in front of us.
“Delta-kun, Mizusaki-kun. Do you have a moment?”
A low voice cut through the commotion, freezing Mizusaki, me, and all the swim team members in place.
It was our classmate, Mikage Aya.
If Iwama-san is the sun, then Mikage-san is the moon—that’s Mizusaki’s assessment.
I can somewhat understand what he means. A tall, mature-looking girl. While she exudes a quiet atmosphere, her almond-shaped eyes possess a dignified beauty. According to Mizusaki, she’s a “cool beauty.”
Her long, silky black hair is tied in a single bundle at the nape of her neck, giving her ta stance almost like a female samurai. It’s easy to imagine her swiftly drawing a Japanese sword and cutting down villains one after another.
Due to our seat numbers, she sat right in front of Mizusaki, so we’d had several chances to talk before. That’s why she calls me “Delta-kun.”
She even joined our conversation once when we were discussing the Michaelis-Menten equation. Apparently, she likes mathematics.
Incidentally, both Mizusaki and I are terrible at math.
Mikage rescued us from the clutches of the swim team members and smoothly navigated through the hallway where upperclassmen were running rampant, guiding us to the less crowded science building.
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Her skill was unbelievable, but once I observed carefully, I figured out the trick. She instantly calculated the path forward from people’s movements, applied minimal force to manipulate the flow, and created space for her body to pass through. In the sense of using opponents’ force to move them, it was close to aikido.
Mizusaki and I just had to follow in Mikage’s wake.
On the second floor of the science building was a neat lounge space. The walls and floor were paneled with wood, with wooden tables and chairs arranged throughout. Since the second floor of the science building also connects to the gymnasium, it probably serves as a rest area for students active in the gym.
We were invited by Mikage to have lunch there.
Despite saying “do you have a moment,” Mikage didn’t actually seem to have any business with us. She had pretended to have something to discuss in order to rescue us from the swim team.
While greatly appreciated, the question remained: why would she do such a thing?
“Man, Mikage-san, seriously thanks. Never thought we’d get attacked by kappa in the hallway. You saved our lives.”
To Mizusaki’s thanks, Mikage responded with only a quiet smile.
She’s not much of a talker. Silently opening her school bag, she pulled out a convenience store plastic bag. I averted my eyes as memories of Katakuri threatened to flash back.
Mikage opened a carton of unsweetened iced tea, inserted a straw, and began gulping it down. Her drinking was impressively vigorous. We each deployed our lunches as well.
Mine was my usual cherry tomato bento. Mizusaki’s was nori bento—a large tupperware container packed about ninety percent with white rice. “In the end, carbs give the highest satisfaction,” he explained. Apparently his mother’s handiwork.
What Mikage pulled from her plastic bag was a pack of hand-rolled sushi. Tuna mayo, to be specific. She might be the first person I’ve seen buy this instead of onigiri for lunch.
“But man, those upperclassmen were really fired up, huh?”
Mizusaki said with his mouth full of nori bento. Swallow before you speak.
“Fired up, or rather, wasn’t it closer to hunger or thirst?”
Mikage nodded at my observation.
“I heard that activity restrictions were lifted last year, and club activities are finally getting back to full strength. Everywhere is desperate to recruit members. Increasing membership is necessary to energize the clubs.”
She spoke in an emotionless, matter-of-fact manner.
However, I hadn’t known this school had such circumstances. Even the well-informed Mizusaki nodded in understanding.
“I see. That aggressive approach—I thought they were like kappa or carnivores… but basically they’re trying to store up nutrients before breeding season. If Mikage-san hadn’t been there, we would’ve seriously gotten eaten.”
Another incomprehensible metaphor. Mikage just returned another smile while chewing her hand-rolled sushi.
Still, Mizusaki sure keeps trying to steer the conversation toward thanking Mikage. Just as I was thinking this, Mizusaki clapped his hands together.
“Oh yeah! Hey Mikage-san, since we have this connection from you saving us, why don’t we check out the club orientations together?”
I see, so that’s it. Whether it’s Iwama or Mikage, Mizusaki displays incomprehensible levels of initiative when dealing with girls.
Rather than being put off, Mikage nodded as if she’d been waiting for that invitation.
“Of course. I was just thinking it would be boring alone.”
She didn’t seem like the type to think such things, but well, it’s not a bad idea. With Mikage’s dexterity in navigating that hellish hallway, we should be able to avoid unwanted assaults from upperclassmen.
“Alright! Mikage-san, which club are you thinking of checking out?”
“I’m interested in the physics club. I’m actually interested in mathematics, but I heard the math club was absorbed into the physics club a long time ago.”
“Physics club, huh… well, sounds good, right Delta?! Let’s check it out! We were thinking of looking at science clubs anyway.”
Mizusaki and I both developed an aversion to physics in middle school due to various circumstances, but well, just taking a peek at the physics club shouldn’t be too bad. I nodded.
“Are you guys are still interested in the chemistry club?”
We had told Mikage that we were former chemistry club members. Mizusaki gulped down the large amount of white rice he’d been chewing.
“Well, it’s a candidate. Can’t say for sure without checking it out though.”
Mizusaki turned toward me.
“Today let’s just check out various clubs and think about which one suits us.”
“Right.”
There was one thing bothering me.
“Mikage-san, do you happen to have siblings at this school?”
After finishing the last bite of her tuna mayo hand-rolled sushi, Mikage looked at me with interest.
“What makes you think that?”
The fact that she didn’t deny it meant my hypothesis wasn’t far off.
“Mikage-san went out of her way to rescue us from the upperclassmen despite having no benefit from doing so. I thought a bit about why.”
“Why? Well, because we’re classmates. We’re friends who discussed enzyme reactions together.”
“Is that really all?”
We did chat a bit about enzyme reaction rates. But would this quiet girl really go out of her way to push through a crowd to rescue two male classmates of that level who were about to be taken away by the swim team? Wasn’t there some other reason?
Once I started thinking along these lines, something occurred to me.
“Mikage-san knew a lot about this school’s clubs. That activity restrictions were lifted last year, that the math club was absorbed into the physics club—these aren’t things ordinary first-years would know. But it makes sense if you have siblings or upperclassmen acquaintances at this school.”
Mikage nodded as if acknowledging this. I continued.
“So my hypothesis is this: Mikage-san has an acquaintance in the physics club. The physics club is also desperate to recruit members. Mikage-san was asked by that acquaintance to bring someone. That’s why she rescued us, knowing we’re science-oriented—in order to guide us straight to the physics club orientation. It’s a much smarter approach than forcibly dragging people.”
A brief silence. Then Mikage opened her mouth without changing expression.
“Exactly right.”
So that was it. It’s rare to be shown selfless kindness.
“Precisely as Delta-kun says. My onii—”
Mikage suddenly cut off her words and coughed as if choking. Oni?
“My onigiri was bought at a convenience store by my older brother this morning, and that brother is a third-year here. He’s the physics club president. Knowing this year’s orientation would be a fierce competition, he asked me to rescue Delta-kun and Mizusaki-kun and bring them to the physics club in that flow.”
Mizusaki’s and my gazes naturally turned to what was in Mikage’s hands. What Mikage was about to open wasn’t onigiri but a second hand-rolled sushi. This time, negitoro.
As if not bothered at all, Mikage smiled and with practiced movements peeled off the wrapping, then forcibly bent and rolled the cylindrically-shaped rice. She wrapped that lump with the separately packaged nori seaweed.
…I see, it certainly is onigiri. We decided we hadn’t seen anything.
“I see, guess you got us there.”
Mizusaki said cheerfully.
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