97. Then, the cultural festival, embraced with resolute determination. (Seeking your votes)

Page (1/3)

Inside the conference room, students were arriving one after another. Hoshino Morino stood at the front row, accompanied by Yagami Yo, handing out documents to each student present.

The students who received the documents didn’t linger; one by one, they left. When it was Jinguji Tsuki and Sakurakouji Sakura’s turn to step forward, Hoshino Morino handed them their copies.

“Huh? Sakura-kun, did you become a member of the cultural festival committee?”

“Yeah, because I want to closely observe the seniors at work.”

“Oh my! Such a smooth talker, you might just make me accidentally fall for you.”

“Hehe~~”

Jinguji Tsuki quietly shifted a step aside, unwilling to get caught up in this inexplicable yuri atmosphere.

Yagami Yo remained silent like a robot, occasionally yawning, looking like he hadn’t fully woken up.

“What’s with the lack of energy? Didn’t make the cut?”

“Who are you insulting? Don’t you understand the value of being top of the grade, scoring 700 points?”

“Whoa~~ impressive, impressive.”

The boy’s tone was extremely perfunctory; he had already seen the scores posted on the bulletin board that morning and inwardly admired Yagami Yo as a genuine prodigy.

For reference, the top student in the third year was still Hoshino Morino, but she couldn’t score a full 700 like Jinguji Tsuki and Yagami Yo.

Hoshino Morino’s excellence went beyond academic scores — her character and social skills stood out. She was adept at inspiring others to willingly serve her, a quality essential for a student council president.

In terms of pure academic performance, Jinguji Tsuki and Yagami Yo were monstrous talents, operating on a completely different level from other students, including Hoshino Morino.

“Hmph.”

The small animal tilted its head and said no more.

After receiving their documents, Jinguji Tsuki and Sakurakouji Sakura left the conference room. Hoshino Morino appeared quite busy, clearly not the time for idle chatter.

Sakurakouji Sakura casually flipped through the documents, which contained matters related to the cultural festival — such as making promotional posters, printing manuals, managing and renting equipment and supplies, and stage usage.

Although the cultural festival was a time for students to revel, it naturally required someone to maintain order and attend to every detail to maximize enjoyment. Hence, the cultural festival committee’s existence was indispensable.

Thanks to this group of dedicated people, others could freely celebrate their youth.

…

…

In the afternoon class meeting,

Class 2-A was voting on their class program for the cultural festival.

Sakurakouji Sakura stood at the podium, writing down each proposal on the blackboard.

Regrettably, the boys’ most popular choice was a “swimsuit café,” which almost prompted Jinguji Tsuki to applaud mentally for this group of idiots.

Apparently, he had underestimated the libido of high school boys.

Also, the fact that Sakurakouji Sakura dared to write “swimsuit café” on the blackboard suggested she was a bit off in the head.

If any other boy dared to write such a phrase, he would have been chased out of the classroom by the girls by the time he finished the second character.

In the end, Class 2-A decided on a “cosplay café,” a rather uninspired compromise between the boys’ “swimsuit café” idea.

It seemed that no matter the country, people loved a compromise.

Jinguji Tsuki silently acknowledged this new lesson learned.

After the afternoon class meeting ended, Sakurakouji Sakura quickly packed her bag, waved goodbye to her friends, and then, in front of the whole class, moved to a corner of the classroom.

“Jinguji-kun, let’s go to the conference room. The meeting is about to start.”

“…Oh.”

Ignoring the girls’ gazes for now, Jinguji Tsuki felt several envious and jealous stares from the boys’ side.

Obviously, there were boys in this class secretly infatuated with Sakurakouji Sakura.

Back in the conference room, many students were already there. Sakurakouji Sakura randomly found a seat, while Jinguji Tsuki, as a student council member, naturally sat in the front row.

Hoshino Morino occupied the main seat, flanked by Jinguji Tsuki and Yagami Yo. The cultural representatives from various classes sat casually on the sides, with Sakurakouji slightly behind.

The cultural festival committee chairperson was personally held by Hoshino Morino.

Once the meeting began, Jinguji Tsuki took on the role of secretary, recording everything discussed. Given Jinguji Tsuki’s superb memory, this seemed like an effortless and fitting task.

But meetings were obviously far from easy or fun.

If they were, why would anyone avoid becoming a cultural festival committee member?

Moreover, these meetings continued every day after school until the festival itself, with work stretching into the evening.

This meant these students couldn’t participate in club activities or join classmates in decorating classrooms or preparing for class programs.

The meeting lasted thirty minutes, during which duties were assigned. Sakurakouji Sakura was placed in the publicity group, mainly responsible for creating promotional posters and manuals, and setting up the cultural festival section on the school website.

Page (2/3)

Honestly, Jinguji Tsuki worried whether she could handle it. He felt none of the assigned tasks really suited Sakurakouji Sakura’s abilities. If there was one thing she could do in publicity work, it might only be handing out flyers.

Was that really okay?

After the meeting, many stayed behind to handle tasks. Hoshino Morino and Yagami Yo headed to the club building to arrange matters there.

Before leaving, Hoshino Morino told Jinguji Tsuki to hang in there.

All the other student council members had left, leaving Jinguji Tsuki as the sole representative present, meaning other cultural festival committee members would have to rely on his decisions when necessary.

“Hoshino-senpai is really busy.”

Sakurakouji Sakura approached, looking at Hoshino Morino’s resolute retreating figure, placing some documents on her desk with a sigh.

“In comparison, Tsuki seems like a big idler.”

“I’m sorry for being so idle.”

“Then help me out.”

Sakurakouji Sakura laughed mischievously, then called out inside the conference room, “Everyone, come here!”

Hmm? Everyone? Who exactly?

Jinguji Tsuki’s confusion was soon resolved.

The “everyone” Sakurakouji Sakura referred to were other cultural festival committee members assigned to the publicity group during the meeting.

“I’m Gotanda, pleased to meet you.”

“I’m Tamura, pleased to meet you.”

“Jinguji, pleased to meet you.”

Overwhelmed by the atmosphere Sakurakouji Sakura brought, Jinguji Tsuki instinctively greeted them, inwardly marveling once again at how atmosphere could be such a powerful force.

The publicity group consisted of three people: Sakurakouji Sakura and two boys named Gotanda and Tamura. Gotanda was a third-year student, Tamura a first-year.

Perhaps influenced by reading too much Haruki Murakami, Jinguji Tsuki found the coincidence of their surnames somewhat strange.

“First, about the promotional posters for the festival, I’ll ask: does anyone here know how to draw?”

Everyone looked at each other with no response.

At this moment, Sakurakouji Sakura suddenly looked at Jinguji Tsuki. The boy had an ominous feeling.

“Jinguji-kun, I remember you were in the art club back in middle school.”

Using “I remember” felt so deliberate.

“Huh? Did you and Jinguji-kun attend the same middle school?”

“Yes, but not the same class—just schoolmates.”

“I see.”

“Wait, I’m not even part of the publicity group.”

“But Jinguji-kun is pretty free, right? Hoshino-senpai said earlier that if we have any difficulties, we should ask you for help. She said you’re the most reliable person in the student council.”

“When was that? I didn’t hear it.”

“In the cultural festival committee’s LINE group. Huh? Jinguji-kun, you’re not in it? I’ll add you.”

Sakurakouji Sakura gave a sly look.

Ah! So that’s what she meant by “hang in there.”

Damn… trapped again.

Thus, under the dual pressure of Hoshino Morino and Sakurakouji Sakura, Jinguji Tsuki inexplicably became a temporary helper in the publicity group.

Back at the conference room, work progressed vigorously. Hoshino Morino and Yagami Yo toured the club building, visiting various clubs to conduct in-depth inspections regarding the festival.

Although she had already reviewed written reports from each club, Hoshino Morino liked to see things with her own eyes, as if she couldn’t be at ease otherwise.

After circling around, she went to the drama club. The script, revised by Jinguji Tsuki, was complete; next was the actors’ rehearsals, which didn’t concern Jinguji Tsuki.

The school bell rang, and people gradually left the conference room. Jinguji Tsuki organized his documents and glanced at Sakurakouji Sakura, still busy at her laptop.

“Time to head home.”

“Okay, right away.”

So Jinguji Tsuki leaned against the edge of the table, quietly waiting.

Suddenly, he remembered something. After confirming only the two of them remained, he slowly said, “Lately, it seems you haven’t been alone talking with Sasami-san.”

Sakurakouji Sakura’s fingers paused on the keyboard.

“...Yeah.”

The typing resumed. After two or three minutes, she stretched lazily, closed her laptop, and smiled at Jinguji Tsuki.

“Huh? Could it be you were waiting for me to go home?”

Page (3/3)

“No way, idiot.”

“Thought so. Ah… where were we? Oh right, Sayaka.”

Jinguji Tsuki looked at her silently.

Sakurakouji Sakura scratched the back of her head and smiled sheepishly, “Well… it’s not that our relationship has gone bad. It’s just that when we’re alone, it gets awkward. We don’t know what to say to each other. You know how it is.”

Jinguji Tsuki sighed quietly, somewhat reluctant to meddle in girls’ complicated friendships.

But since this was a relationship Sakurakouji Sakura valued, leaving them awkwardly estranged made Jinguji Tsuki feel uneasy.

“Hurry up and make up.”

“We’re not fighting, just a little awkward.”

Before Sakurakouji Sakura could say more, the conference room door opened, and Hoshino Morino entered alone.

“Huh? Jinguji-kun, Sakura-kun, you’re still here? I thought everyone else had left.”

Hoshino Morino glanced at the documents on her desk, shoved them all into her bag, and put the overflow into a tote bag.

“President, are you taking all these home to work on?”

“Of course. There’s only this little time after school. Do you expect me to do it during class? The cultural festival is important, but we still have classes. The unfinished work has to be done at home.”

“Just a guess, but the president must’ve spent quite some time at the drama club earlier.”

“I didn’t.”

“Liar.”

Jinguji Tsuki immediately judged.

“Tch! How did you figure out my trick?”

“Alright, I admit it. I did go to the drama club.”

Jinguji Tsuki wore an expression of “I knew it.”

Sakurakouji Sakura suddenly felt out of place and quietly tidied the documents, waiting for someone to start a conversation.

“Sakurakouji-senpai, let’s go home together. Let’s ignore this insensitive person.”

“Mm... okay.”

The two girls linked arms like inseparable lovers and passed by Jinguji Tsuki without looking back.

Jinguji Tsuki helplessly rubbed his hair, turned off the conference room lights, kept his distance, and followed the two girls at a leisurely pace.

…

…

Golden rays of sunset burst across the horizon as the girls walked down the sloping path.

“What’s your class planning for the festival? Our class is doing a haunted house. You should come with Jinguji-kun.”

“A cosplay café.”

“That sounds kinda risqué. Will you wear those kinds of outfits, Sakura-san? If not, I’ll use the student council president’s authority to shut your shop down, hehe~~”

“Senpai~~”

“Hahaha, I’m joking.”

Jinguji Tsuki walked alone behind them, hearing their conversation clearly, feeling helpless at Hoshino Morino’s occasional uncle-like way of speaking.

Because of the festival, students were leaving school later than usual. At this time on normal days, few students besides student council members would remain. Now this usually dull slope was suddenly lively.

From time to time, first-year boys passed by him, some from Yagami Yo’s, Yamada Kanade’s, and the drama club’s Kudou’s circles, greeting him with “See you tomorrow.”

The hazy autumn wind stirred up dust, blowing into the boy’s eyes. He rubbed them, believing that the faces he thought would disappear only grew clearer one by one.

The joyful laughter of a small animal floated like steam from a locomotive’s smokestack, drifting from ahead all the way back.

The boy suddenly snapped back to reality, sensing the incredible change beside him.

Indeed, this empty slope was bustling with life.

Thanks to “Tarfer,” “Hoo Tei Tianya,” and “An Yi miao” for their generous support.

It’s the end of the month; please consider voting.

Another update tomorrow.

(End of chapter)