I ended up in a group I didn't get along with 

Year Group Assembly

After every major school event, a year-group assembly was held without fail.

 

“Make sure you get to the gym promptly. Don't be late.”

 

With those parting words, our form teacher left the classroom. The moment they were gone, the room erupted into noise as chairs scraped against the floor and everyone got up, chatting amongst themselves. Tucking my pencil case and school-trip booklet under my arm, I headed for the corridor.

 

“Hioki, let's go together.”

 

As I followed my classmates out, Watarai came hurrying towards me. Behind him, I could see Nakazato, Hotta and Morizaki. Oh, right. We'd become friends. My body, so accustomed to doing everything alone, came to an awkward halt.

 

“How could you leave us behind? That's so mean.”

 

“Sorry, sorry.”

 

I offered a token apology to Nakazato, who was deliberately puffing out his cheeks in a sulk.

 

“Ugh, gross.”

 

“Whaaat? Morizaki, you're so mean!”

 

Even when Morizaki recoiled from him, Nakazato carried on with his bizarre little act, pretending to cry.

 

“Anyway, can we hurry up?”

 

Putting an end to their ridiculous performance, Hotta glanced at the clock. The ten-minute break would be over before we knew it. The staircase connecting the second floor to the gym was closed for repairs, so we had no choice but to go through the first-floor corridor. There were other routes if we took a detour, but this was the quickest.

 

The first-floor corridor was overflowing with first-year students. I could feel so many eyes on us. More than half the students we passed stopped in their tracks, while groups of girls gathered beside the corridor windows, squealing excitedly.

 

“Ah! Hioki-senpai! Hello!”

 

“Hey!”

 

Just as I was about to put some distance between myself and the other four, two male students greeted me with a bow. Their faces were familiar enough for me to recognise them as juniors from the badminton club. Unfortunately, so many first-years had joined that I still hadn't managed to match all their names to their faces.

 

Sorry, guys.

 

“Good work. Are you heading to another classroom?”

 

Glancing at the textbooks and recorders they were carrying, I watched the two juniors nod.

 

“Yeah, we're going to the music room.”

 

“Are you going somewhere too, Hioki-senpai?”

 

“Yeah. Apparently, we've got some kind of assembly about the school trip.”

 

“Oh, right! I'll bring your souvenirs over later.”

 

The moment I told them, their faces lit up.

 

“Really? Yes! Thank you!”

 

“We're looking forward to it!”

 

“Yeah. See you!”

 

I waved goodbye to my juniors, who looked delighted even though the souvenirs weren't anything particularly special. We'd only been in the same club for two and a half months, but their innocent enthusiasm was adorable.

 

“Do you know them?”

 

Watarai, who had fallen into step beside me, watched the juniors running away.

 

“They're from my club.”

 

“Hmmm.”

 

At my answer, Watarai turned around to look at them again. Was he really that interested?

 

“Hello, senpai!”

 

“Where are you going?”

 

This time, two girls walking hand in hand called out to us. Their eager gazes were fixed firmly on the four boys.

 

“...The gym?”

 

Nakazato tilted his head in confusion as he answered.

 

“Oh, I see! Good luck!”

 

“See you at club!”

 

With their cheeks flushed, the girls hurried off, letting out little squeals of excitement. Watching their retreating figures, Nakazato tilted his head even further, practically sporting a question mark above it.

 

“Who was that?”

 

“No idea. Who?”

 

“I don't know either.”

 

“Seriously, who were they?”

 

The question passed from Morizaki to Watarai, then from Watarai to Hotta. Somehow, I felt sorry for the girls. I apologised to them silently. Apparently, the photography club, which the four of them belonged to, didn't have a culture of seniors and juniors greeting each other regularly. On top of that, all four were apparently ghost members who belonged to the club in name only.

 

Even so, shouldn't they at least remember people's faces? That was what I wanted to say, but considering I'd just failed to remember my own juniors' names, I swallowed the words. When we arrived at the gym, a projector screen had been set up.

 

“Line up by class, boys and girls separately! Class One, over here!”

 

While I was distracted by the screen, the year-group head raised a hand, microphone in the other. At the instruction, the crowd of students began to move.

 

“What do you reckon we're watching?”

 

Hotta, who had lined up behind me, seemed just as curious about the screen.

 

“Dunno... Something about the school trip?”

 

“Bet it's the year-group head.”

 

“Pfft! Yeah, probably.”

 

I burst out laughing at Hotta's suggestion. Completely unaware that he'd become the subject of the students' jokes, the year-group head tightened his grip on the microphone.

 

“Everyone, well done on completing the school trip! Did you manage to get plenty of rest and refresh yourselves over the break? Your midterm exams are coming up soon, so make sure you study hard!”

 

The excitement we'd been feeling after the school trip was instantly brought crashing back to reality. The students around me stared at the year-group head with thoroughly fed-up expressions.

 

“We've gathered you here today to watch a commemorative video of your school-trip memories. Now, please turn your attention to the screen. Oh, students at the back might have trouble seeing, so feel free to move somewhere more comfortable.”

 

The moment the year-group head switched off his microphone, everyone scrambled towards the front. I got to my feet to follow them, but Nakazato and Hotta grabbed my arms and dragged me towards the back instead.

 

“Let's watch from back here.”

 

Hotta grinned down at me. Why? Wouldn't it be harder to see? I stared at the screen getting further away as they continued dragging me along. When we finally reached their chosen spot, Nakazato said, “Here you go,” and deposited me between Watarai's long legs. Why? That was the second time I'd found myself asking that question.

 

I lifted my hips, intending to make a quick escape, but an arm wrapped firmly around me, stopping me in my tracks.

 

“Where are you going? Stay here.”

 

Watarai murmured into my ear and pulled me closer as I tried to stand. Right now, I was sitting with Watarai as my backrest. If the girls saw us, they'd probably kick me across the gym. But judging by what had just happened, I didn't think there was much chance of escaping. Resigning myself to my fate, I leaned back against Watarai.

 

At that moment, the gym was plunged into darkness and cheerful music began playing. On the screen in front of us appeared a clear blue sky and the date of the first day of our school trip. Surprisingly, it was a rather professionally made video. The music gradually faded. Then the year-group head appeared, filling the entire screen.

 

“Sir, the school trip starts today. How are you feeling?”

 

“Ah, well, I've been here so many times now that it's practically like my first home!”

 

The year-group head answered the cameraman's question with a nostalgic expression. Laughter echoed throughout the gym. From there, the video became a montage of the three days we'd spent away. Day One. The Noh theatre appeared on screen. The moment I saw it, cold sweat trickled down my back.

 

They hadn't filmed me holding hands with Watarai, had they? As though sensing my anxiety, the screen quickly switched to footage of dinner. Day Two. Group photographs taken in front of the main hall appeared, followed by pictures from our free time. I found myself leaning forward as the screen showed lively shopping streets, charming old-fashioned arcades and other fascinating tourist spots.

 

The theme park had been fun, but I would've liked to explore some of the area's hidden gems too. I was completely absorbed in the screen when, for some inexplicable reason, a photograph appeared of me holding the little boy who'd got lost. Who the hell took that? I never gave permission for my photo to be taken!

 

I instinctively pulled my head back, away from the screen, and ended up smacking it straight into Watarai's chest.

 

“Sorry...”

 

“It's fine. Congratulations on getting a solo photo.”

 

As he congratulated me, Watarai gently stroked the spot where I'd bumped my head. Nakazato, Hotta and Morizaki joined in too.

 

“Congratulations!”

 

Please stop. Covering my face in embarrassment, I peeked at the screen through the gaps between my fingers. Day Three. Photographs of the sightseeing spots each class had visited appeared. And of course, there were the four boys, looking dazzling in their traditional kimono.

 

And me, the little extra who'd somehow ended up in the picture with them. A murmur spread amongst the girls. Some students even began glancing back in our direction. This was bad. If they discovered I was using Watarai as a backrest, his fans would stab me.

 

I tried sliding my upper body down to hide, but my attempt was useless. Once again, an arm wrapped around my stomach and pulled me close.

 

“You won't be able to see if you slouch down like that.”

 

“No, it's more that I don't want to look right now\... Or rather, I don't want to be seen... My life's in danger.”

 

“What on earth are you talking about?”

 

Watarai sighed in exasperation and turned his attention back to the screen, keeping his arm wrapped around my stomach. The commemorative video was approaching its end. Messages from the staff at the inns and hotels that had looked after us appeared, followed by the end credits.

 

“All right, we'll now collect your school-trip booklets by class! Anyone who hasn't finished theirs should complete them here before returning to the classroom. You must fill in at least eighty per cent!”

 

At the year-group head's announcement, the students split into two groups: those who stood up and those who bent over their booklets. Our group belonged to the latter. I'd already filled in more than half of my reflections, so I finished mine fairly quickly and sat there absent-mindedly, waiting for the other four.

 

“I'm borrowing Hioki for a minute!”

 

I looked up at the sudden voice. A male student stood over me with a rather stiff expression. It was Aoi Minase, a fellow badminton club member I'd met after starting high school. His badminton skills were fairly decent, but what truly distinguished him was his legendary sweet tooth, the biggest in the entire club.

 

Minase impatiently prodded my back with his knee.

 

“I'm just going to let myself be borrowed for a bit.”

 

“Come back in three seconds.”

 

Watarai glanced at Minase and made an utterly unreasonable demand. There was no way I could fulfil that request, so I shook my head.

 

“Hioki, you bastard! Don't hang around somewhere that makes it impossible to approach you!”

 

The moment we'd put some distance between ourselves and Watarai's group, Minase began complaining in a hushed voice.

 

“They're my friends. What do you expect?”

 

“Look! My hands are still shaking! See?”

 

Minase exaggeratedly shook his right hand. Rather than trembling, he was practically waving it around.

 

“That's a bit much, don't you think?”

 

I couldn't help laughing. Minase gave me a resentful look, clearly dissatisfied with my reaction.

 

“I don't know how you can sit there surrounded by that much devastating good looks.”

 

“Are they really that hard to approach?”

 

“Hmm... Well, I've never spoken to them, but it's like... They're on a completely different level, or... I dunno!”

 

Giving up on his explanation, Minase shrugged. His reaction made me burst out laughing again. At the entrance, where we were heading, Tsujitani was waiting with another clubmate. The boy beside him, whose short hair stuck up in little tufts, was Shunsuke Ino. Like Tsujitani, he'd attended the same middle school as me and belonged to the same club. He was one of my few close friends.

 

All the second-year members of the badminton club had gathered. What a coincidence.

 

“There he is. Our extrovert-in-training.”

 

“Seriously, give me a break. We had to play rock-paper-scissors to decide who'd go and get you!”

 

“Why didn't you all just come together?”

 

I offered my advice to Tsujitani and Ino, who were both grumbling away. I'd thought it was a brilliant suggestion, but all three of them, including Minase, immediately protested.

 

“The three of us have a combined combat power of about thirty! Don't ask the impossible!”

 

“We haven't even got any weapons!”

 

“Even if you add Hioki, our combat power drops to twenty!”

 

“Why the hell does it go down?”

 

I retorted to Ino's comment, and the four of us looked at one another before bursting into laughter. Being with Watarai and the others was fun, but spending time with my clubmates was enjoyable too. We were on the same wavelength. Oh, that reminds me.

 

“Why did you call me over, anyway?”

 

I suddenly came to my senses and asked the question I'd completely forgotten about.

 

“Oh, right. We wanted to decide who's delivering the souvenirs to the seniors and juniors. Hioki, are you okay taking the first-years?”

 

I happily nodded at Tsujitani's suggestion. I'd just been talking to my juniors about souvenirs before heading to the gym, so the timing was perfect.

 

“Right, Hioki's got the first-years... Ino, you take the first-years too. Tsujitani and I will handle the third-years.”

 

With Minase giving the instructions, we quickly divided up the responsibilities. Just as we'd finished sorting everything out, Tsujitani suddenly let out an enormous shout.

 

“Ah! Shit! I haven't done the assignment for my next lesson!”

 

Tsujitani hurriedly ran off in a panic, and that naturally signalled the end of our little gathering.

 

“See you at club.”

 

“Good luck, extrovert-in-training!”

 

What the hell was an extrovert-in-training, anyway? I waved goodbye to Minase and Ino as they continued teasing me, then headed back into the gym. By now, almost all the students had left.

 

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

 

I called out to the four boys, who were still sitting around chatting. The moment Watarai looked up, he immediately stood.

 

“Welcome back. I handed in your booklet with ours. Was that okay?”

 

“Eh? Seriously? Thanks!”

 

I broke into a bright smile. Apparently, even such a small expression of gratitude made him happy, because Watarai nodded contentedly, practically wagging an invisible tail. I fell into step beside him, and we headed for the exit. Just then, a voice called out from behind us.

 

“Nakazato, boys, I'm sorry to ask, but could you check that all the windows are shut properly?”

 

Our form teacher, carrying the entire class's booklets, pointed towards the windows.

 

“Sure thing... Should we do the upper floor or the lower floor?”

 

Nakazato nodded to the teacher before turning towards us.

 

“Ah! Wait, Hioki, you use the gym for club activities, don't you? Could you take these up to the broadcasting room?”

 

Our teacher pulled a microphone and the projector remote control from the tote bag hanging off their arm. I accepted them, then pointed upwards with my index finger to let the other four know.

 

“Looks like I'm going upstairs, then.”

 

“Then I'll come too.”

 

As I started towards the staircase, Watarai followed. The broadcasting room smelled dusty.

 

“Have you ever been in here?”

 

“No, I think this is my first time.”

 

Watarai shook his head and looked curiously around the small room. I'd asked as though I knew the place well, but this was only my second visit, so I wasn't particularly familiar with it either. I opened the built-in dry cabinet and put the microphone away. Then I stood there holding the remote control.

 

Where was I supposed to put this thing again?

 

“What were you talking about earlier?”

 

Watarai spoke while I rummaged around the desk.

 

“Earlier...? Oh, you mean with my clubmates? We were talking about souvenirs.”

 

I opened the drawers one by one, searching for the remote control's proper home. Come to think of it, every time I spoke to someone else, Watarai always asked me a similar question afterwards. Was he really that curious?

 

“Why? Don't tell me you were jealous.”

 

I found a drawer containing similar equipment, put the remote inside and teased him with a little chuckle.

 

“Yeah.”

 

His voice was so quiet that it probably would've been drowned out if we'd been in a classroom. But right now, we were alone in a silent room. I'd heard Watarai perfectly clearly. I turned around without thinking. With the light behind him, I couldn't make out his expression. I took a step towards him, wanting to see what he was feeling. At that moment, a hand reached out and pulled me by the arm.

 

Watarai wrapped his arms around me. My thoughts came to a complete standstill. I tried to straighten up, but instead of pulling away, his body pressed even more warmly against mine. Unable to understand what he wanted, I lifted my head.

 

“...Let me.”

 

Watarai whispered something beside my ear.

 

“Huh?”

 

I concentrated, straining to hear him.

 

“...I was lonely, so let me stay like this for a little while.”

 

As he spoke, his arms tightened around me. With our bodies pressed so closely together, I could even feel his heart beating hard. There were only a few centimetres between us in height, yet whenever he hugged me, he somehow felt so much bigger. Before I realised it, my fingers had instinctively curled into the fabric of Watarai's jacket.

 

“Do friends normally do this sort of thing?”

 

“...Friends hug each other sometimes, don't they?”

 

“Isn't this a bit long for a hug?”

 

“That's because it's you, Hioki.”

 

His arms reluctantly loosened. Now that I could see his face, no longer obscured by the backlighting, his expression was overflowing with happiness.

 

“Hioki, what do you think about kissing a friend?”

 

“That's definitely not okay.”

 

I stepped away from Watarai. He smiled.

 

“I'm not going to do it yet.”

 

What the hell did he mean, yet?

 

“Hurry uuuup!”

 

Nakazato's voice echoed up from the floor below. Back to his usual self, Watarai casually played with the broadcasting-room key as he disappeared through the doorway. I really couldn't understand what was going through his head. Exasperated by his behaviour, I followed his cheerful figure out of the broadcasting room.

 

“What took you so long? What were you doing?”

 

Morizaki, who was waiting by the exit, looked at us suspiciously. What should I say? If I honestly answered, “We were hugging each other,” it could create all sorts of misunderstandings and get us suspended.

 

“Hioki got tangled up in some cables. It took a while to get him free.”

 

Watarai answered while lazily swinging the gym shoes hooked over his fingers.

 

“Oh, honestly! You're so clumsy!”

 

Nakazato, once again adopting his bizarre little persona, patted my shoulder. Was that supposed to be trendy or something?

 

“Anyway, what's our next lesson?”

 

Ignoring Nakazato, Hotta tilted his head.

 

“...PE.”

 

Watarai muttered quietly. At that exact moment, the bell announcing the end of fifth period rang. The PE teacher was our year-group head. If we were late, there would undoubtedly be some kind of punishment waiting for us, whether that meant running laps around the track or being forced to do odd jobs.

 

The moment we realised our situation, all five of us took off running as though we'd been fired from a cannon.

 

“No running in the corridoooors!”

 

A first-year teacher shouted after us. We couldn't afford to stop. Apologising profusely as we went, we raced up the stairs. Ten minutes until sixth period began. In the now-empty gym, the cries of cicadas echoed through the air, heralding the arrival of summer.