#286
Upon opening the staff room door, a different atmosphere from the rest of the school filled the space. Sounds of paper being organized, teachers discussing tomorrow’s lessons, and students visiting club advisors were scattered about. Most people stood with a serious expression, even if they hadn’t done anything wrong but had business to attend to.
However, when it comes to the staff room, unconsciously, students would straighten their posture, tidy up their appearance, and hush their voices.
The moment the door opened, the gazes of the teachers turned in my direction. However, realizing I wasn’t one of their assigned students, the collective attention quickly dispersed.
Without hesitation, I proceeded to the desk where the person I needed to speak with was seated. The teacher, who had probably been working on something, looked up, and their sharp gaze met mine.
“I’ve come to submit my career preference form.”
“You’re late, you’re the last one from Class 3.”
I handed over the requirements and college preference form to Sudo-sensei, who is in charge of the student council but also handles college preferences. At Sakuranaoka Academy, there are teachers responsible for career preferences, and Sudo-sensei, who serves as the student council advisor, also handles those preferences in the same way.
A strong face with a sharp gaze. He had once grumbled that he worried that his expression was too stern and that students disliked him because of it. While it’s true that the current students didn’t have a favourable impression of him, the Student Council President had mentioned that his diligent and kind attitude during counselling sessions earned him the appreciation of alumni.
It’s impossible for everyone to be liked by everyone. If we make intelligent choices, wouldn’t it be correct to emphasize and expand on the aspects where we are appreciated by a smaller number of people?
The current situation might be the result of taking that principle too far.
“I was actually quite torn, but I realized I didn’t have enough choices to be that indecisive.”
“Self-analysis is also crucial in choosing career path. This isn’t the final decision.”
I handed him the college preference form and voiced my response that I had reached recently.
There are many things that I desire but can’t reach, and college preference is one of them.
It’s easy for them to choose a university that’s suitable for them, but I don’t possess the academic qualifications required by those universities.
To hope, to challenge, to fail – that’s the way. Otherwise, there would be no meaning to my choice or to their choices in this situation.
In the current situation, I think the best choice I can make is to choose the best university within my reach at least.
“At this stage, it’s normal to have doubts. Just make sure you don’t regret your decision.”
Sudo-sensei commented without changing his stern expression. He then checked the content of the form I handed him, and after finding no issues, he gave a slight nod.
Taking it as a sign that he had accepted it without problems, I bowed slightly and then turned on my heel. I walked through the narrow corridor of the staff room.
The air in the hallway was cold, providing relief to my slightly heated body due to the staff room’s heating. I let out a sigh of relief, having come out of the tense room, and continued walking alone down the corridor after school.
Observing the expressions and gestures of students crossing my path, trying to deduce the purpose they were walking with, all in the absence of conversation, wasn’t particularly unpleasant for me.
For teachers, as well as students who had many friends and always did things in groups, my solitary stride might seem lonely and absurd.
Walking alone while sticking my hands into my uniform pants, I was likely seen as an outcast trying to act cool, and I would be made fun of if they shouted loudly and insulted me, their faces turning bright red.
By doing so, I could surely secure the top spot on tomorrow’s in-school unpopular list.
To add to it, my indoor shoes might be hidden from my locker at the time of arrival, and my classroom desk might be turned upside down.
Most pranks that students could think of followed a fairly predictable pattern.
Of course, I didn’t want to experience such things, and I honestly didn’t want to be involved. Therefore, I ignored the glances and sneers, heading towards one of the two school buildings.
There were still familiar students in the school building after school. It seemed that they knew I spent a lot of time alone in the school building, as they didn’t cast the same kind of glances towards me as students from other grades.
However, in a different sense, I couldn’t escape glances – those of envy and jealousy, likely stemming from the fact that many students desired the environment I was placed in.
“…”
As I entered the second-year building, a group of girls who had been chatting ceased their conversation abruptly and distanced themselves along the hallway walls.
…It’s the unfortunate nature of teenage boys to want to say ‘bye-bye’ in a childish way like you might see in a children’s anime, isn’t it?
Of course, no high school boy would do that…
Opening the door to classroom 2-3, located at the far end of the second floor, I saw Shizuku rushing towards me as though she had been waiting.
“Was there any issue with your career path?”
“I didn’t choose a career path that would cause problems anyways, I just submitted the form.”
I stopped in front of her and allowed her to guide me back to my seat by gripping the sleeve of my uniform. Once I reached the window at the very back of the classroom where I usually sat, I found another person there: Kirasaka, who was also waiting after school with her novel in hand.
She skillfully placed a bookmark between the pages of her novel and put it away in her bag. Then, she looked in my direction.
“Oh, there you are.”
“That doesn’t sound like something a person who just put their novel away would say.”
“Just kidding. I’m glad there were no issues.”
Kirasaka smiled, picked up her bag from beside her desk, and got up. Shizuku released my arm, holding her own belongings. Then, she returned to where I was.
“To be honest, I don’t think it would be a good idea for you both to come to the same university as me.”
As I carried my belongings and shared my honest thoughts, Shizuku responded.
“I’m not expecting anything from the university anyways.”
“Harsh…”
Shizuku, who had previously concealed her true feelings out of concern for the other party, had seemingly disappeared. But I found her current-self much easier to interact with.
However, the idea that we might be together for another five years, including our university years, felt a bit strange and mysterious. As I contemplated this feeling alone, Kirasaka muttered something.
“By the way, that ikemen also said he was going to the same university.”
“…”
I remained silent, as wherever Yuuto chose to attend university, it didn’t seem to matter much to Kirasaka. Her words were spoken without much interest.
He’s in it for another five years too… I couldn’t help but feel that it was somewhat late, but the fact that this would be a significant part of my life due to the important memories we’ve made during our student years brought a wry smile to my face.
What’s next? Will I continue to be challenged with similar difficulties, or will our busy daily life persist? Despite my initial reluctance, the knowledge that this life will continue for another five years filled me with acceptance.
In the end, no matter what I say, I couldn’t help but admit that this life was not so bad after all.
BrutalBot Tl 