105. Then Came the Cultural Festival We Had Resolved to Hold. (9)

“Vice President, these documents require your signature.”
“Shinguji, the cultural festival section on the school website has been completed and uploaded to the server. Please verify it.”
“There’s also the matter of equipment requests…”

After school, Tsuki Shinguji sat in the conference room calmly and methodically handling all the tasks related to the cultural festival.

At this moment, less than a week remained before the event.

Since the conversation with Mori Hoshino, the student council president, a week ago, she hadn’t appeared in the meeting room even once, entrusting all authority and the committee chair’s seal to Tsuki Shinguji.

At first, some committee members expressed dissatisfaction with her decision—not because of Hoshino herself, but due to who she chose to delegate to.

In other words, their objections were directed at Tsuki Shinguji.

Those dissenters were all second-year cultural festival committee members, including two boys who were Shinguji’s acquaintances from middle school.

Though Shinguji never confirmed it directly, his current reputation was largely shaped by what his middle school classmates had spread.

At this school, fewer than five students, including Sakura Koji Sakura, had attended the same middle school as Shinguji.

When he first entered high school, his reputation wasn’t as poor as it was now.

But after the school uncovered the incident involving him and Mr. Aoyama, his middle school misdeeds were all exposed at once, culminating in the current negative reputation.

Therefore, it wasn’t surprising that some opposed Shinguji’s actual control over the cultural festival committee.

However, Mori Hoshino displayed a very strong stance, and Shinguji finally witnessed the commanding side of her as student council president in front of other students.

He couldn’t quite put into words how he felt about it, so he silently focused on his own work. Thanks to his exceptional memory, he could meticulously organize the progress of every project, remembering even the minutest details.

Gradually, as they realized Shinguji was more efficient than Hoshino in handling tasks, they quietly accepted taking orders from him over time.

At seven in the evening, the school buildings were still brightly lit. After finishing committee work, Shinguji returned to Class 2-A, where the other students were busy crafting props and decorations for the festival.

“Ah, Shinguji, are you done with your work over there?”

Sakura Koji Sakura greeted him first, drawing the attention of the others, who then returned to their handiwork.

Shinguji nodded and went to his usual window seat at the back, taking several record books from his desk and putting them into his bag.

Just as he was about to leave the classroom, Sakura Koji suddenly approached and handed him a notebook.

“Hey, Shinguji, we just discussed the menu for the festival café. Could you take a look?”

The event for Class 2-A was a cosplay café. Shinguji glanced at the notebook and could roughly guess what it contained.

“Me?”

“Yes! Since you’re part of the class, we want to hear your opinion.”

Looking around, a few students glanced at him but said nothing, showing no strong resistance.

Both Mori Hoshino and Sakura seemed to want to do something for him in their own ways.

Sensing the hope in Sakura’s eyes, Shinguji hesitated slightly before nodding faintly. “I’m not sure if I can be of help.”

Sakura’s face lit up with joy. “It’s okay! Shinguji, you look like you frequent cafés often, so your input will definitely be useful.”

Don’t add such a ridiculous assumption to me, Shinguji thought.

Yet even after staying, he found there wasn’t much for him to do. Opening Sakura’s notebook, he saw it was filled with katakana words that gave him a headache.

He couldn’t help but show a helpless expression and lowered his voice to say,

“Isn’t all this just copied from Starbucks?”

“Oh, you caught me.”

“Do you really think everyone in the class can make the stuff listed here?”

“Just buy some coffee powder and milk and mix it, right? Since there aren’t any reference pictures on the menu, whatever we serve is up to us to decide.”

Shinguji was dumbfounded.

“You should never go into business. You’d get arrested.”

“Hey! That’s mean,” Sakura whispered in protest.

It turned out that even if he stayed in class, he was of little use. By past eight in the evening, Shinguji was merely sitting and drawing, completely idle.

“Hey, Shinguji, you can draw, huh? That’s surprising.”

Suddenly, a girl approached, curiously looking at Shinguji’s tablet as the stylus tapped the screen with a “tap tap tap” sound.

Shinguji shot her a silent glance.

Surprising?

“Hey, what are you drawing?”

“A promotional poster for the cultural festival,” Shinguji replied quietly.

---

“Then why are you the one drawing it?”

“I’m also part of the publicity team.”

“Let me see… huh… hahaha!”

Shinguji paused, asking, “What’s so funny?”

“Because you look like the type who just stands in front of the station flirting with girls, nothing to do with studying, music, or art. It’s hilarious.”

“Hey, everyone, come see Shinguji! This is too funny!”

The girl laughed heartily, patting Shinguji’s shoulder vigorously.

The shaking in his shoulder caused an accidental screen tap, undoing some work.

Shinguji felt a headache coming on. Could someone take this girl away?

“Sakurai, don’t bother Shinguji like that,” Sakura Koji noticed early on and stood up to lecture the idle girl.

“But it’s so funny!”

Shinguji remained silent. Seriously, what was the joke?

Sakura sighed helplessly. “If you’re that bored, come help me with the streamers. Everyone’s working on them.”

“But my fingers aren’t dexterous at all.”

“No skills needed, just stick the paper pieces together. Hurry up and stop disturbing Shinguji.”

Reluctantly, the girl was led away.

Shinguji guessed Sakura had noticed he was about to pack up and leave, so she behaved assertively to keep him there.

“Hey, Shinguji…”

“Hmm?”

Another voice spoke to him. It was Hanamori, sitting diagonally across, cutting colorful paper without looking up.

“Are you dating Sakura? I’m serious.”

“No,” Shinguji replied flatly.

“Then is it the student council president?”

“No one.”

“Single?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, I see.”

Compared to the lively, tanned girl, Hanamori’s tone was simpler, but gossip seemed innate to girls—she was no exception.

By nine o’clock, Class 2-A finally decided to head home. Despite the festival’s approach, classes still took place during the day, and studying remained a student’s primary job. Shinguji hoped they remembered that.

Outside the school gate, walking alone on the night slope amid many students under bright streetlights, Shinguji felt like a fish drifting in a migrating school.

Unnoticed, a girl came alongside him.

“Senpai, you worked hard today.”

Shinguji glanced down at her. “You too.”

“How was it?”

“No problems. All the club matters have been coordinated, and I’ve seen the rehearsals for every performance.”

“That’s good.”

“You should find time to watch some rehearsals too. Everyone’s working hard, especially Kudo from the drama club.”

“If you say there’s no problem, then I’m not worried. Besides, I don’t have much free time to manage club affairs these days.”

“Thanks for your hard work.”

Shinguji reached out to pat her head. The small animal-like girl smiled happily, clearly pleased.

“Hmph! Who told you I’m a genius? These trivial tasks are nothing to me.”

“I know you’re amazing.”

“Hehe… you can praise me more.”

“That’s enough. I don’t want you getting arrogant.”

Lately, Shinguji had become more adept at handling Yomi Yagami. He wasn’t sure if “handling” was the right word; using Hoshino’s terms, it was closer to “taming.”

Whatever term, at least their relationship was progressing smoothly.

“Hey, senpai.”

“Hmm?”

---

“Lately, the president hasn’t been coming to the student council room much.”

“She’s a third-year now, so she must have lots of things to deal with.”

“Hmm… that’s true.”

“Feeling lonely?”

“To be honest, a little.”

Shinguji was a bit surprised that Yomi admitted it so frankly.

But then again, their personalities were completely different. Shinguji was someone who didn’t want to show his emotions or let others see his mood—he found that unsettling, believing it showed weakness or a plea for help.

Yomi, on the other hand, was straightforward, without scheming, genuine inside and out. That was why she was so well-liked by her peers.

“And besides…”

“And?”

“Without the president around, no one’s making me milk tea.”

Shinguji was stunned for a moment, then chuckled. “So that’s your real reason?”

Yomi, rarely embarrassed, blushed and scratched the back of her head.

At the station, after parting ways with her and boarding the train, Shinguji saw Sakura Koji in the next car, seemingly unaware of his presence, looking around.

He walked over and tapped her shoulder. Sakura turned, smiled brightly, and sat beside him.

“I couldn’t see you anywhere; I was about to text you.”

“Well, it’s only one stop. I figured I’d wait here at the station.”

“Even so, I wanted to spend a little more time with you.”

Sakura was very affectionate when alone, but tonight especially so—almost to the point of being cheesy.

Yet Shinguji felt no resistance, only the quiet certainty that they had many more moments like this ahead.

In the past, even if Shinguji noticed Sakura’s unease, he might have remained silent, saying nothing.

But now he understood that leaving things unsaid only widens the emotional distance between people.

“Idiot, I’m not going anywhere.”

He said softly.

Sakura looked into his eyes silently for a long while.

...

The train arrived, and they went home together, saying goodnight before parting.

At home, Kokkoro twisted her plump body, rubbing against Shinguji’s pant leg.

Entering the living room, Shinguji saw dinner covered with plastic wrap on the table, with a note from his mother underneath.

She had a reunion with university friends tonight and would be home late.

After eating and showering, Shinguji returned to his room and resumed drawing the unfinished promotional poster on his tablet.

His phone buzzed with multiple messages, as if everyone had agreed to message him simultaneously late at night.

First was Kudo from the drama club, saying rehearsals were going well and hoping he could watch.

Shinguji couldn’t promise immediately, giving a vague reply.

In the publicity group chat, Gotanda and Wataru discussed their work, and Shinguji said he’d need two more days to finish his drawings.

Yomi sent several stickers, mixed with the final cultural festival stage performance schedule, presumably wanting Shinguji to review it.

This could wait until tomorrow; he didn’t understand why she sent it so late.

After replying with “Thanks for your hard work,” the message was immediately marked as read.

He then added “Good night,” also read instantly.

Ignoring the phone, he continued drawing.

Time passed slowly and steadily. The boy worked at his desk until nearly midnight, stretched, and prepared to stop and sleep.

Suddenly, the phone rang abruptly. Shinguji wondered who could be calling so late.

Then the screen displayed the name Mori Hoshino.

(End of chapter)