After school.
“With that, homeroom is over. Goodbye.”
Along with the teacher's voice, everyone in the class stood up, their chairs clattering against the floor.
The hallway was already buzzing with the voices of students from other classes.
Class 6 is famous for the teacher’s long-winded talks, which always results in homeroom finishing late.
I can’t keep Azuma waiting since she has her part-time job, so I hurriedly stood up, left the classroom, and headed toward Class 4.
Class 4 has such a high percentage of Normies, it’s honestly scary...
When I arrived in front of Class 4, Azuma was just about to leave the room with her bass on her back.
“Ah, Konuma.”
“Azuma, sorry for keeping you waiting.”
“No, I was just thinking about dropping off my instrument in the clubroom. It’d be a bit awkward to have you wait here, so why don't you come with me?”
“C-Come... with you?”
I reacted instinctively to her choice of words.
“I mean, come with me to the clubroom. Creepy...”
Azuma was visibly weirded out.
Azuma-neesan, was that reaction really necessary...?
Well, that was my fault just now. I overreacted. My apologies.
I followed Azuma toward the Instrumental Music Club's clubroom.
The Instrumental Music Club used the Lecture Room, a classroom with a small stage and enough seating for an entire grade level.
It’s used for things like grade-level assemblies or club introductions—events that need to gather a lot of people but aren't quite big enough for the gym.
“I hate taking my instrument to my part-time job because people who don’t understand instruments might kick it,” Azuma said gloomily.
“I see.”
Wait, but.
“Then wouldn't it have been better not to bring it today?”
“No, I wanted to practice during lunch break.”
Her gaze was serious.
“Oh...”
As I thought, despite her appearance, she’s really diligent and dedicated.
While we were talking and I was feeling impressed, we arrived at the Lecture Room.
“Well, wait here for a bit.”
“O-Okay...”
I start getting a cold sweat whenever I'm left alone in an unfamiliar place.
Well, most places feel like away games to me, and I’m usually alone anyway...
After waiting a short while, a boy with glasses carrying drumsticks came out of the Lecture Room.
As soon as he saw me, he gave a pleasant nod.
Uh, what's this about? I wondered, but since I had just learned the importance of greetings from Azuma-neesan, I muttered something like “Hey” and returned the nod.
Just then, Azuma came back. Ah, Azuma-sama...!
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Konuma... wait, what are you doing? Are you two acquaintances?”
Azuma tilted her head blankly.
“No, we just met,” the glasses guy replied to Azuma’s question.
“Heh, is that so? Like drummers being drawn to each other?”
“Oh, is this person a drummer too?”
He turned toward me with an interested expression.
“Ah, well, yeah.”
“I see, what a coincidence.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Well, there aren't that many drummers around.
As that strange atmosphere was about to settle in again,
“Well then, shall we go, Konuma? See ya, Yutaka.”
Azuma cut in.
“Yeah, see you later, Yuri-chan.”
Yuri-chan? I cursed under my breath, but Azuma simply waved cheerfully and parted ways with the glasses guy.
“That guy is kind of a strange person,” I said to Azuma as we went down the stairs.
“Really? He's a good guy, Yutaka Otomo.”
“I see.”
“Acknowledge.”
“Ah, sorry...”
That's right, Azuma-neesan is strict about acknowledgments...
“So, what was your consultation, Konuma?” Azuma tilted her head slightly.
“Ah, right. Um...”
I looked around to make sure no one involved was nearby.
“It's about Erina-san.”
“Erina?”
As Azuma tilted her head, I explained what I had talked about with Erina-san yesterday.
“In short, you think it's weird that Erina was trying to act all friendly with you at the study session where Kenji wasn't supposed to come?”
Azuma summarized my story. As expected of a girl whose Japanese deviation score is over 80.
“Exactly.” I nodded.
“I see. Well, certainly...”
After saying that, Azuma closed her eyes and thought for a moment before looking up at the sky.
“Aah, so that's what it is...”
“Eh? What do you mean? What is it?”
I was a parade of questions.
“Mmm... I did think she was coming up with something rather elaborate for Erina, but...”
“Pardon?”
I didn't understand at all.
“Sorry, Konuma.”
Azuma placed a hand on my shoulder and looked down apologetically.
“Even though you went through the trouble of telling me, I don't think I can say it from my own mouth.”
“What?!”
No way...
“I'm really sorry...”
I thought for a moment about whether I should press her further since she looked so apologetic, but before I knew it, we had arrived in front of the FamilyMart where Azuma works.
“Um, can I just ask one last thing?”
“Hm?” Azuma turned back.
“Is there anything I should be careful of?”
“Hmm, if you were to be careful...”
Azuma crossed her arms and bit her lower lip while looking toward the inside of the store.
“Maybe stop putting yourself down all the time and realize that you might be ‘something’ to ‘someone’...”
“Huh...?”
The Yuri-poem, which is usually easy to understand, made no sense this time.
As I looked at Azuma with a question mark floating over my head,
“For example, the reason why that goddess over there is angry?”
She pointed toward the store door.
When I looked in that direction, a beautiful black-haired girl came out of the store, practically emitting the sound effect of huffing in anger.
“Sigh, I should have been more insistent...” Azuma held her head with one hand.
“Konuma-kun, you idiot!”
The shout from the former genius singer-songwriter, Ichikawa Amane, echoed clearly through the FamilyMart parking lot.