Editing A Simple Survey:Volume1 End3 (section)

===Part 1===

“You had a similar result to me,” said Kozue in her clear voice.

“But it was just ranking them according to how good they were. Wouldn’t everyone get pretty much the same thing?”

“No, you were completely different from me,” said Harumi.

“And from me,” said Hotaru.

(Is that how it works?)

Anzai left the auditorium with the girls and headed for the coffee shop. He had somehow ended up going with them, but he had no idea why.

The building with the coffee shop was a fair distance from the auditorium. The path there was almost pitch black, but Kozue started to rummage around in her handbag.

“Kozue, what are you doing?”

“I think I forgot my ballpoint pen in the auditorium.”

“Those cost 100 yen. You can buy a new one at the convenience store.”

“I do not care if I forgot it, but I want to make sure that I did indeed forget it. I would feel like I had lost if I bought one I did not need.”

“Your pen case does seem to keep getting more and more mechanical pencils.”

Hotaru used the backlight of her cell phone to light up Kozue’s handbag, but it did not provide enough light. Digging around in the bag when it was so dark would only cause more of the bag’s contents to fall out.

“How about you check once we arrive at the coffee shop?” suggested Harumi, but Anzai pointed in a different direction.

“There’s a bulletin board over there.”

The old board was used to post notifications about different clubs. A fluorescent light was installed so it could be read at night. The pure white light did not completely eliminate the darkness in the area, but it was better than a cell phone backlight.

When they approached the bulletin board, a lot of small dead bugs could be seen in the light. It must not have been cleaned very often. It was neither time for new members to join the clubs nor time for the cultural festival, so the information posted lacked a certain shine.

“Oh, I do have the pen.”

“Now you don’t have to get another new one.”

“So you worried us for nothing,” said Aisu lightly. “Y’know, I cannot believe bulletin boards like this still exist. This is the 21st century. It would be a lot easier to just send out an email to everyone.”

“Some stubborn professors might not like those electronic methods.”

“Or maybe some people have more sense than to give out their email address just to receive a ton of pointless bulletins.”

“I see. So that stubbornness goes beyond just the professors.”

Anzai did not particularly care, so he was hoping they could just get to the coffee shop. The nights were getting colder, but there were still plenty of bugs around. They were all flying around near the light and he was finding it quite annoying.

“Hotaru-san. Let’s go,” said Harumi as she turned back towards the bulletin board just after they started to leave.

Anzai turned back too and found Hotaru still standing in front of the bulletin board.

“Did you find something interesting?”

“Hotaru is a romanticist.”

“?”

With some things, those four girls seemed to have a shared understanding of their own, so Anzai was sometimes unable to comprehend what they were talking about.

Hotaru soon joined the rest of them and they headed for the coffee shop. Similar to the family restaurant and the convenience store, it was in a building not used for classrooms. However…

“It’s closed.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Hotaru, what time is it?”

“8:30. …It looks like we used up too much time dealing with Kozue’s pen.”

It was a worldwide chain, so it did have standard hours, but the manager had a habit of closing up shop if he found a chance. No lights were on in the coffee shop.

Anzai and the others had no choice but to head to the Spanish cuisine family restaurant in the same building.

“People’s opinions vary a lot about this place depending on whether they like seafood or not.”

From the look on Kozue’s face, it seemed her opinion of the place was on the negative end of things.

However, something else drew Anzai’s attention even more.

“Wait, why are you squeezing in so tight…?”

“They only have tables for 4, so we have no choice.”

“Oh, but I think it is no coincidence that you are pressed against the window with Kozue in the position right next to you. It seems Kozue is trying to monopolize you.”

“That is not true.”

None of them were particularly hungry, so they shared a large salad between the five of them. Naturally, it was covered in shrimp, squid, and shellfish. The displeased look on Kozue’s face escalated.

The cabaret club girl named Aisu sipped at some hot coffee and said, “I guess you aren’t going to get much better than this when the drinks are self-service.”

“Any kind of black coffee just tastes bitter to me,” said Harumi.

“I guess they don’t have any national drinks like matcha. The food is more national, though,” said Hotaru.

“That is just how family restaurants are,” commented Kozue.

Anzai wondered why people were always so harsh in their judgments of national chains. Of course, the coffee shop they had wanted to go to had shops in 30 countries.

Perhaps brands had a way of affecting people’s tastes.

“Anyway, that was a very strange survey.”

“What was it all about, anyway? Was it just something that professor was doing for fun?”

Anzai doubted he could give out credits if it was just for fun.

On the other hand, he could not see any practical use for it either.

“Perhaps he was trying to get some data he needed for his research.”

“But wouldn’t he have to get our permission to use us in a paper?”

“He might be able to get around that if he uses the information in a way that makes it impossible to tell who the person is.”

“Well, I do not really see how it could hurt to let him know which short films we liked,” said Aisu offhandedly while she sipped at her cheap coffee.

Despite her complaints about the family restaurant, she did not seem to be in a particularly bad mood.

Anzai then asked something he was curious about.

“By the way, what field is that professor from? Psychology?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…Huh?”

A strange silence fell over them. They all exchanged glances. Anzai was able to guess what it meant just from seeing their expressions. However, he still could not believe it.

“Wait a second. …None of you has had a lecture from him?

“So you do not know who he is either?”

Either.

That word of Kozue’s gave certainty to the thought in Anzai’s mind. Anzai was surprised that no one knew the professor, but he also realized that he did not know those girls either. He doubted they were in the same course of study as him. A professor from his own field might be able to give credits, but would a single professor be able to give credits to students from different fields across the university?

“What about the other people?” asked Harumi. “I think there were about 30 of them.”

“I have nothing to back this up,” replied Kozue clearly. “But I get the feeling that we would get no real information even if we tracked down the other participants and asked them.”

“Like any university, ours has plenty of eccentric professors. It’s possible this was just some old man who toes the line between being an idiot and a genius charging off in some strange direction.”

“If so, what does that mean for my credits?”

If that event had been run by some crazy (but perhaps capable since he still had his job) old man, then those credits could never pan out. It was possible that professor had never discussed it with those in charge of Anzai’s major.

“Well, we may not know what that old man was after, but why were we chosen?”

“He sort of explained that at the beginning. He was probably targeting students who needed credits, those with attendance issues, or those with behavioral issues.”

“Do you think he might have had another reason?”

“How should I know? We have no idea what the point of the survey was, so if who he selected is related to that, we have no way of figuring it out.”

“True.”

However, even if it had all been some capable but crazy old man having some fun, it changed nothing. The survey was over. If nothing more would happen and they had lost nothing from it, there was no reason to look into it further.

The only problem Anzai cared about was what was to become of his credits.

Or so he thought…