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Hyouka:Volume 5 Chapter 2-2

2021-02-09T07:58:26Z

104.172.61.62: /* 2. Past: 27 Days Ago */

=== 2. Past: 27 Days Ago ===

It was a lazy morning.

I had stayed up fairly late the previous night. It wasn’t like I was doing anything in particular, but because I had no school the next day, I ended up aimlessly reading and watching TV for a long time.

I had sluggishly woken up late in the morning and saw that there was no one in the living room. I knew that my dad was away for work, but I had no idea what my sister was up to. She might be somewhere in the house, or she might be somewhere outside of Japan. As I unabashedly let out a big yawn, I plopped down onto the sofa.

The remote control was sitting on the low table in front of me. I figured I’d at least turn it on and see what was showing, but I couldn't find anything very interesting, even after changing the channel a couple times. I was still drowsy so the television actually ended up being a little annoying. I had brought the paperback I was reading from my room, so I sank into the couch and opened the pages.

Before reading even a single line, I looked up from the print and muttered to myself.

“It’s kind of dark.”

The curtains were closed. Naturally I would have preferred them to be open, but because I was so comfortably deep in the couch, getting up would be too troublesome. I put the book aside and reached for the remote once more. On top of the table was an ashtray and a lucky cat figure.<ref>See maneki-neko (招き猫): https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maneki-neko</ref>

This lucky cat was a strange little thing. I couldn’t tell if it was poorly made or if it was purposely designed like this, but the cat almost looked like it was grinning at you. It was holding a large coin like any other lucky cat would, except instead of the usual assortment of bold phrases that might be written on it, like “great happiness,” “fantastic fortune,” or “exceeding wealth,” it only contained a single word, “lucky.”<ref>「招福」, 「大大吉」, 「千万両」, and then 「吉」 respectively.</ref> Of course, the only person who would have bought something this half-assed was my sister, but even then, I wondered where she could have possibly bought it.

The inside was hollow, and its arm was spring-loaded so you could move it in an up-and-down beckoning motion. My sister had made some alterations to add onto that feature. She tried making it so that it would shoot an infrared beam. Even though you couldn’t see it in the first place, she had still purposely rigged it so that the beam would specifically come from the eyes.

“If a cat’s going to shoot lasers, then it has to be from the eyes.”

When she told me this, I was speechless, but thinking about it more rationally it’s not like it was all that strange. After all, the remote also used infrared beams. She had essentially just put a remote inside the lucky cat.

Its receiver was connected to the fluorescent light on the ceiling. When you moved its arm to invite good fortune, an infrared beam would fly from its eyes and either illuminate or darken the room. As a result, you could take the string off the ceiling lamp and rejoice over the newly spacious surroundings. Except now, as you had to constantly keep the lucky cat there instead of the string, it continued to get in the way regardless. At least have the common decency to use a cat that was actually lovable.

The lucky cat currently sat on the other end of the table, so I reached towards it. That was the reason I even picked up the remote in the first place. In lieu of a stick, I used it to try and move the lucky cat’s arm. It looked like I should have been able to reach it, but I couldn’t no matter how hard I tried. Had I lifted myself a bit I would have probably been able to reach it, but at that point I might as well be standing. As I tried my hardest to use only my arms while avoiding moving the rest of my body like the plague, a voice called out from behind me.

“Are you finally trying to fully master the art of laziness or something?”

The road to fully mastering energy-preservation was endless; I haven’t yet even seen the heights of its perfection. I turned around and saw my sister. It looked like she had taken an afternoon bath because of the bath towel tightly wrapped around the top of her head. She walked into the kitchen and asked, “Want some coffee?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, then pour me some as well while you’re at it.”

She wasn’t going to do it herself? Then why did she even go to the kitchen in the first place?

Because I had gotten so in the mood for coffee, all of the determination and effort that I had previously put into not standing up instantly fizzled away. I slapped my knees to give me the energy I needed to stand up and then went over to the kitchen to start boiling some water. My sister had her back to me as she stared into the refrigerator and eventually found a sandwich to eat. I had no idea why there was a sandwich in the fridge to begin with. Over the years, I had seen all sorts of things being cooled in that fridge, from bee larvae tsukudani to kangaroo burgers.<ref>Tsukudani is a cooking technique where you boil something in soy sauce to preserve and eat it.</ref> Compared to those, at least a sandwich wasn’t too far removed from normalcy.

“Either dry your hair or eat your food. Don’t do both.”

I said this bitterly towards her as she still had the towel wrapped around her head, but she ignored me. She took out a single egg and spun it in the sink like a top. The egg quickly lost its balance and toppled over.

“Oh come on, it’s raw?”

As she sighed, I figured she must have mistaken the raw egg for a hard-boiled one. It was true that I had made some the evening before, but I ended up eating them myself later that night. I thought it was strange that she even knew I made some in the first place, but who knows. Maybe she saw something like the leftover dishes after I had finished.

Nothing else in the fridge must have stood out. She closed the door by pushing it with her lower back and asked a question from behind me as I was readying some coffee cups.

“Oh yeah, your cold’s gone now, isn’t it.”

“My cold?”

“Wasn’t it pretty bad?”

I thought for a little bit and then responded.

“When was this?”

It was true; I had indeed caught a cold this month.

One day, Chitanda had contacted me, asking me for my help because the spring festival was understaffed. A lot of stuff happened, but long story short, I left to go help them and ended up having a pretty strange day. It was hard for even me to believe that all of that had happened within the span of a single day. I could still vividly recall that pretty scene, surrounded on all sides by the early-blooming cherry blossoms.

It was particularly chilly then, especially after the sun had set. Even though I had been saying it was cold, Chitanda continued to insist that it wasn’t because it was already spring at that point. I’m not saying I caught it because of that, but the very next day, I remained cooped up in my bed. Until my sister had returned later that night, I had been the only one in the house, so all of the chills, fevers, and hunger added up to make me a very miserable sight.

My sister was probably talking about that, but that had happened during spring break. I had all but recovered in around two days, so when I went to the opening ceremony I was completely normal.

“That was a month ago.”

“Really? To think already a month has passed. They grow up so fast.”

As she feigned ignorance, she lightly tapped my head. She started to toss around my hair and then said, “Fix your bedhead.”

I’ll do it later.

Someone had so graciously made coffee for her and yet she didn’t even so much as taste it. She suddenly said, “Oh, it’s time,” and returned to her room. I started to read the book I had left on the sofa, but after thirty minutes had passed, she came out of her room again.

“Hey, you aren’t going out today either, right?”

I didn’t have any plans, but I wasn’t too happy with how she said ‘either.’ I answered without looking away from the book.

“I’m not thinking of doing anything.”

“I wonder how much distance you’ve covered throughout your entire lifetime.”

“Siblings need to balance each other out.”

After I said this, she replied in a condescending tone.

“So you’re saying you’ve been resting up on my behalf. Aren’t you a kind one.”

My not leaving the house only compensated for her extravagant use of gasoline, airplane fuel, and other travel costs. As an energy-saving advocate, this was my apology to human civilization for the actions of my idiot sister.

“What a pitiful child.”

She had said something so cruel.

“Well at any rate, continue doing nothing until 2:30.”

“You want me to watch the house?”

“Yeah. If no one comes, you’re free to do whatever.”

I didn’t have any plans to go out in the first place, but just being told this made me feel uncomfortably restricted. As I continued reading the book, I spoke.

“Get me something.”

It looked like she was already putting her shoes on. Her voice rang from the house entrance.

“Then I’ll buy you some candles. You like those, right?”

Since when?

Because she had mentioned the candles, however, I knew that she hadn’t forgotten what today was. It didn’t look like she was intending on celebrating it, though…

Surely enough, when I was a kid, I loved to blow out the candles on cakes.

Today was my birthday.

What could she have possibly meant by telling me to watch the house until 2:30? I put my book aside part-way, and threw myself face down on the sofa to think. It was my sister. She was probably planning something unnecessary. She had told me to wait because something was probably coming, but what was it?

Having something celebratory arrive while I was here would be wonderfully considerate of her. Because it would be such a decent thing for her to do, I consequently knew that that wasn’t going to be the case. Tomoe Oreki wasn’t the kind of person who did things like that, and even if I was wrong, setting up the delivery time for 2:30 in the afternoon would be far too half-assed for her.

She had told me, “If no one comes, you’re free to do whatever.” That meant that most likely someone would be coming rather than something. Someone who would come on my birthday… Actually, it could be incorrect to assume my birthday played into it at all. It could simply be someone like a bill collector or neighborhood information distributor that was coming. Maybe it was wrong of me to assume that she was setting this all up. Maybe I'd been suspecting her too much.

Even as I said this to myself, however, I couldn’t get rid of the bad premonition lingering in my head. Because I was overly conscious of the time, it was only natural that the second hand seemed to move far too slowly.

I had lost the desire to eat, so I continued to wait without making myself lunch. I finally finished the book I had been reading, but I didn’t have enough time to get into a second one. I switched on the television and turned to a travel program. This was how I passed the time, watching complete strangers enjoying delicious-looking food in a first-class inn.

Thinking back on it, the way she had specifically stated “if they don’t come” meant that it didn’t necessarily mean that they were going to come at 2:30. She wasn’t indicating an arrival time, but rather an arrival period. For example, had I told Satoshi, using the same exact phrasing, “If I don’t come by 2:30, do whatever you want,” I would be saying something along the lines of, “I should actually be arriving earlier, but there’s a possibility that I’ll be late. If I’m not there by 2:30, just assume I won’t be coming.”

That was why, when I heard the doorbell chime at around 5 minutes to 2:00, I assumed that it wasn’t related to the guest that my sister was having me wait for. ‘I wonder if it's a demon. Perhaps it's a snake.’<ref>A Japanese proverb. (鬼が出るか蛇が出るか) It refers to the fear of the unknown.</ref> For some reason, that feeling started to well up inside of me. I put on a pair of slippers and stepped down into the entrance area, taking a peek through the door’s peephole.

It wasn’t a demon, nor was it a snake. Neither was it a bill collector or a neighborhood information distributor.

“Ah, shit. So that’s what it was.”

It slipped from my mouth before I realized it.

Four individuals stood outside: Satoshi, Chitanda, Ibara, and Ōhinata.

As if sensing my presence, Satoshi returned my gaze through the peephole. He showed me a revolting smile and then held up his hand. For all of the various problems she had caused me, there was one thing I was thankful to my sister for.

She had told me to fix my bedhead ahead of time.

There was no helping it. It wasn’t like I could send them away.

At any rate, I took them to the living room and had them sit around the low table. Chitanda and Ōhinata sat on the sofa while Satoshi and Ibara sat on floor cushions.

Satoshi wore a polo shirt and cargo pants. Ibara wore a gray parka and shorts. Chitanda had on a knitted peach-colored sweater and a skirt that reached below her knees. Ōhinata wore a graphic tee and jeans. Staring at this unfamiliarly dressed ensemble around me, I started to grumble.

“Gentlemen, what on earth is this goose before me?”<ref>This is a line from famous Taishō-era poet Sakutarō Hagiwara’s mysterious existential poem entitled “Death” 「死」, found in his collection, Howling at the Moon 『月に吠える』. Because the poem is short, I’ll translate it here so you can interpret it for yourself. (Source for those curious and able to read Japanese: http://www.aozora.gr.jp/cards/000067/files/859_21656.html)
<pre>From the depths of the land I gaze at,
Strange hands protrude,
Legs protrude,
A head intrudes,
Gentlemen,
What on earth,
Is this goose before me?
From the depths of the land I gaze at,
I make a foolish face,
Hands protrude,
Legs protrude,
A head intrudes.</pre></ref>

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Even as Ibara sat with such well-mannered form, her speech remained unsurprisingly foul. Neglecting Ōhinata as she responded with, “Oh, that’s Sakutarō,” Satoshi started to laugh.

“Are you perhaps wondering what foul wind could have possibly blown us your way?”

I nodded wordlessly.

There was no doubt that they came to celebrate my birthday. After all, Ōhinata was carrying a box tied with a ribbon and featuring the logo of a cake shop that even I knew on the side, so I couldn’t exactly ask them why they had come.

The thing was, however, Satoshi and I had known each other for three years now and not once had we celebrated each other’s birthday. Even had he decided to do this as some kind of joke, there’s no way he’d think to bring the rest of the Classics Club. We just weren’t that kind of group.

Sure we had come together once, purely on a collective whim, to write the anthology. But we weren’t so close as to randomly hang out at someone’s house to kill time. That’s what I had thought, and I was pretty sure the other members felt the same way. As if to suddenly close that distance, something perplexing ended up happening.

“I thought that we’d be a bother if we came so suddenly, but…”

Chitanda’s words were full of consideration. I wasn’t really bothered, but rather…

“I was surprised.”

“I figured you’d be.”

Satoshi shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m equally as surprised. Talking about it is one thing, but I never imagined this would actually happen in reality.”

There were two things I wanted to ask.

“How did you guys know about today, and whose idea was it to come here?”

“Well, it’s a long story…”

Chitanda tilted her head as if trying to decide where to start.

“When Ōhinata asked us if we had ever done something like a party with the entire club, I told her about the culture festival after-party, but then she asked me if we had done anything aside from that, and I told her that I couldn’t think of anything else really, so she…”

It did look like it was shaping up to be a long story. At that moment, however, Ibara cut in and swiftly said, “When I mentioned that your birthday was coming up, Ōhinata said that we should throw you a birthday party.”

“You knew when my birthday was?”

“Only that it was in April. That’s the kind of thing you’d normally remember about someone in your class.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“That’s because you’re an inconsiderate human being.”

Thinking about it, Ibara has had plenty of chances to learn my birthday up until now. We had been in the same class all throughout elementary and middle school, and especially in elementary school, they often had those “Who has a birthday this month?” posters. If she had remembered my birthday was in April, it’d be easy for her to check the old class anthologies to find my actual birthday.

Without the motive, however, she wouldn’t have done it. In other words, the culprit was Ōhinata.

“So you were the one that came up with it, huh?”

I stared holes into Ōhinata. Her eyes were darting around the living room, but when they finally met mine, she smiled without a hint of trepidation.

“Friends need to be celebrated.”

That motto’s correctness aside, there were ways to celebrate that involved being alone and undisturbed.

“And there’s no one that could be in a bad mood after having a party thrown for them.”

There wasn't a trace of self-doubt in her. And having said that, she planned on making me one of those happy individuals. Yay.

Unfortunately for her however, not a single person had said “Happy Birthday” to me yet.

“That aside, I’m surprised everyone is actually here.”

No matter how hard Ōhinata might’ve tried to push the idea of having a party, it was almost unbelievable that everyone would have gone along with it. Chitanda might have simply wanted to make the new recruit happy, but I couldn’t for the life of me imagine a scenario in which Ibara agreed. As if hearing what I was thinking, the girl in question spoke bluntly.

“I'm going to be watching a movie in the evening, so this is just to kill some time before then. Two hours is all I’ll spare for your celebration.”

Are you a mind-reader?

“We bought drinks so go get some cups.”

You should have bought paper cups too then… I saw Satoshi had brought a paper bag full of snacks. Instead of eating them from the bag, it would probably best if I brought out a tray to stick them on. If I remembered correctly, the wooden tray was in the cupboard. Also, if there was a cake in Ōhinata’s box, then I should pull out a knife and some plates for later. I wonder if we had enough plates to go around. Of course we’ll need spoons as well. Having forks might also not be a bad idea.

As I stood up from my chair and went to the kitchen to search for this and that, a doubt suddenly crossed my mind.

If this was a birthday celebration, then I had the main role.

And yet, why was I the only one up and moving around?

When I brought the utensils and dishes back to the living room, I noticed that the ashtray, the book I had finished reading, and the television remote had all been cleaned up and placed on top of the sideboard. Only the lucky cat had remained, still enshrined in its corner of the table, continuing to expose its unlovable grin.

The snacks that Satoshi had bought turned out to be some fairly fashionable biscuits.<ref>From here on, 'biscuits' will refer to confections like these: http://tosaichi.jp/millet/millet-600-7.jpg</ref> Chitanda had mentioned, “They look like they’d be good with jam,” so I also prepared a smaller plate in addition to the larger one for the snacks and brought out some summer mandarin jam from the refrigerator. Upon seeing the jar, Ōhinata exclaimed with joy.

“Oh! That’s ‘MilleFleur’ jam isn’t it!”

Looking at the label, I could see the word “MilleFleur” written on it. Had I not heard the correct way to say it, I probably would have pronounced it something like “Mile Flew.” Making sure I didn’t reveal this thought of mine, I responded, “Yeah,” with my chest puffed out.

“To think you would pull out something like ‘MilleFleur’ so casually, what a classy upperclassman you are, jeez.”

This smiling Ōhinata was a good, honest girl, but there also happened to be a not-so-honest girl in the vicinity. Clearly suspicious, Ibara started to question me.

“Do you even know what that is?”

“Nope, not at all.”

“Then why were you acting like it?!”

“I wanted to look cool. My bad.”

I apologized and asked Ōhinata from the start.

“What is it?”

After learning the truth about my childish vanity, Ōhinata looked at me with unbelievably cold eyes, but she recovered quickly enough and picked up the jar of jam.

“It’s a specialty jam shop. It’s really well-known. I once bought one myself a while back, and, as expected, the taste befits its high price.”

“So it’s expensive, huh?”

I muttered without thinking as I looked at the jar.

“Well, not really. Expensive as jams go, at least.”

I couldn’t imagine this tanned, lightly-dressed Ōhinata doing something like going to a specialty shop to buy jam. I knew it was wrong of me to judge a book by its cover, but still…

“I wonder if it’s a bit of a waste to eat good jam like this with simple biscuits.”

As Satoshi voiced his concerns, however, Chitanda responded with a small smile.

“It should be fine, right?”

And with that, it became fine.

Ōhinata mentioned that she had brought a lighter, so I could only assume it was to be used in lighting birthday candles for the cake. The preparations were ready, but cake would probably happen a little later on.

The drink that Ibara had prepared was carbonated white peach juice that not only resembled champagne, but came in a similar bottle as well.

“Now come on Hōtarō, certainly you have something a little more sophisticated than these.”

Spurred into the kitchen once more by Satoshi’s comment, I pulled out several unused glasses intended for guest-use that hadn’t even been taken out of the box they initially came in. They were short and had no stem. The design etched into it shined as if it were crystal.

“What were these called again?”

Ibara asked this while tilting her head in thought.

“It’s a cup,” I told her, but she wasn’t listening, as per usual.

“It’s not a tumbler glass, nor is it a goblet…”

“Is it a Kiriko glass?”<ref>A type of Japanese cut glass. See: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Satsuma_Kiriko_cut_glass</ref>

Ōhinata had proposed this, but it appeared like that wasn’t the case.

“That’s just a decorative variety. No, that’s not it, what was this shape of glass called again?”

“It said whiskey glass on the box.”

A slight show of vexation appeared on Ibara’s face.

I had personally thought that glasses with long stems would be more fitting, but it couldn’t be helped that there weren’t any in the house. There actually might’ve been some laying around, but if that was the case, I didn’t know where they were. To make matters worse, I could only find four whisky glasses, which meant…

“Wait, is Oreki-san the only person with a normal cup?”

…something like that ended up happening. No matter how you looked at it, this was a terrible way to treat today’s main character.

As the juice was passed around, Ōhinata spoke.

“Well then, someone should propose a toast.”

Satoshi and Ibara exchanged glances with each other and then looked over towards Chitanda, almost as if they had planned on doing so ahead of time. Perhaps aware that she would be the one chosen, Chitanda picked up the glass without looking like she intended on refusing.

Wearing an ambiguous smile that suggested she had no idea how to go about this, Chitanda began her speech.

“Umm, today is Oreki-san’s birthday, so let’s celebrate it. I wish I could’ve given you a present, but because this was on such short notice, I have to apologize for not being able to bring one.”

“Your presence is present enough.”

The one who interjected with this statement wasn’t me. It was Satoshi. Hearing him fabricate people’s feelings for them was troubling.

“Hearing that makes me feel better.”

And hearing her feel better after hearing that fabrication was troubling as well.

“Out of all of us, you were the quickest to turn 17. So, umm… congratulations. Cheers.”

We held up the four whiskey glasses and one cup and lightly tapped them together. Although the birthday was supposedly being thrown for my sake, Ōhinata seemed to be the one who was exceptionally happy.

It was at this point that one of my worries had disappeared.

It wasn’t like I had specifically wanted to be told congratulations or anything, but rather, I was anxious that they might have only planned on eating and drinking, returning home immediately after. Now that they had completed the toast, my birthday had been properly celebrated after all.

There was one other thing that I couldn’t say didn’t bug me, however.

It was the lucky cat.

Why was it still on the table? While I was getting the plates and silverware, they had cleaned up the table for me. They had put everything that was on it onto the nearby sideboard, and yet, only the lucky cat had remained.

I wonder if it was a coincidence. No, out of everything on the table, that was easily the thing most likely to get in the way. Even though they were planning on spreading the food around the table, they had to do so now while specifically avoiding the lucky cat. Perhaps someone had been poking around at it to figure out why it had been sitting there?

I had already made a mistake. To think I had so thoughtlessly brought out this amazing summer mandarin jam without knowing just how truly impressive it actually was. Fortunately the conversation veered away from that at least.

I'd have to be careful from now on.

Satoshi’s biscuits were just the slightest bit salty, and as a result, the jam worked really well with it. I’d always thought that I preferred sweet things, but the tartness of the summer mandarin jam proved to be quite refreshing; it was—how should I put this—something like comparing the épée to the foil.<ref>Both weapons used in fencing, the épée is heavier and more rigid while the foil is much lighter and easier to use.</ref>

“Fukube-senpai, you’ve come here to hang out before, right?”

As Ōhinata asked this, Satoshi turned to me.

“I don’t think so.”

“Nope.”

“I’ve been nearby before, but it was just us meeting up at some park in the area. I think I was borrowing something from him.”

I twisted my head. Just like he said, I had made Satoshi wait in a nearby park a while back while I went there from my house. However…

“Are you sure? I have a vague recollection that you were actually returning something.”

It had only been two years or so and already I couldn’t remember it very well. Of course this vague memory wasn’t going to prove very trustworthy, but I couldn’t sit still while our views were diverging. Agreeing with that, Ōhinata then said, “Perhaps you came two times, once to borrow something and then once to return it.”

Of course, what a reasonable idea.

“Except you never once went all the way to his house, right?”

“I don’t think going to his house would impact our being able to do what we needed to do.”

Ōhinata muttered a dubious sound and brought the whiskey glass to her lips.

“That’s pretty straightforward of you. If it were me, I’d say something like ‘I’d only be a nuisance,’ but I guess it’s because you’re guys.”

Satoshi tilted his head in response.

“I wonder if that’s the case. I’m the type that keeps light acquaintance and is satisfied by that, so those kinds of general conceptions might not apply to me."<ref>This is a reference to a passage in the Zhuangzi: “Virtuous men keep acquaintances light as water, and narrow-minded men keep acquaintances sweet as rice wine.” For information on the Zhuangzi, see: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zhuangzi_(book)</ref>

“Which kinds?”

“Every kind.”

I could agree with that.

“I see, I guess people like that exist.”

Ōhinata was deep in thought. Speaking as a guy, I personally didn’t think that Satoshi and I preferred ‘light acquaintance’ to any special degree. It was probably normal. If I had to name it, although Ōhinata was particularly tomboyish, it’s possible that there really weren’t any guys that could talk about these kinds of things easily.

Ōhinata tossed a biscuit into her mouth, and then raised her head to ask another question.

“Can I ask a question? What kind of room do you have?”

My room, huh? I started to brace myself.

“It’s pretty normal. There’s a bed, a desk, and a bookshelf.”

“Isn’t it decorated with anything?”

I don’t think I mentioned anything like that, but I’m sure there was at least something sticking on the wall. As I quietly tried to remember if there was, Ibara suddenly started saying some unnecessary things while petting the lucky cat’s head.

“You should just stop there, Hina-chan. Even this guy is entitled to his privacy.”

She then turned towards me and flashed a cold smile.

“Besides, it’s a guy’s room, so I’m sure you can already imagine what kinds of things are laying around.”

I wasn’t exactly sure what Ibara was imagining, but there was nothing in it that could justify the grin full of contempt directed at me. …Well, there wasn’t much at least.

“I can’t really imagine anything.”

As Ōhinata muttered this, Satoshi responded with a smile.

“Things like textbooks.”

I also contributed.

“Reference books as well.”

“Also dictionaries, right?”

“Of course.”

Ibara had an amazed look on her face.

“Are you guys dumb or what?”

The number of biscuits on the snack dish in front of us became progressively fewer. I hadn’t actually thought that they would all be eaten, but if they were, the cake would naturally come next. As I reached for another one, it suddenly dawned on me that I hadn’t eaten anything for lunch. I then had a thought.

“By the way, did you guys have lunch?”

The responses were varied.

Chitanda responded, “A light one.”

Ōhinata responded, “I did.”

Ibara responded, “I had a late breakfast, so not yet.”

Satoshi responded, “I haven’t.”

As I was at the same time today’s main character and host, it was probably my job to suggest something.

“If that’s the case, we can get some pizza.”

“Eh?! But I’d feel terrible if you treated us.”

Chitanda was trying to be thoughtful, but there was no way in hell I was going to treat them.

“We’d obviously split the tab.”

“O… oh, that makes sense.”

At that moment, Satoshi also interjected.

“I agree, at first I was also thinking it might be nice to get pizza. After all, it’d be a perfect idea if there were a lot of people going to be eating. But I forgot about something.”

“Was the pizza place closed?”

“If the pizza place was closed on Saturday would they ever get any business? No, it was, well…”

He glanced at Ibara. Compared to the hesitating Satoshi, Ibara spoke as bluntly as she always had.

“I can’t do cheese. Sorry.”

“…Oh, I see. I didn’t know.”

“I’d be more surprised if you did know my preferences.”

There was occasionally cheese in the school lunches, so It wouldn’t be too strange if I did know, and yet, even then, I didn’t. She told me this earlier, but I guess I was pretty inconsiderate.

“You're also bad with cheese?”

As Ōhinata thrusted a magnificent amount of jam onto the biscuit and then tossed it into her mouth in a similarly magnificent fashion, she suddenly jerked her body forward in curiosity.

“Yeah, a little bit. It’s not like I’m allergic to it, but I just can’t seem to eat it.”

“Is it the taste?”

“It’s probably how it smells. If it’s something like chilled, thin-sliced cheese, it doesn’t really smell, so that’s fine, but I can’t bring myself to even get near it if it’s cooked. You also don’t like it, Hina-chan?”

Upon hearing this, Ōhinata flashed a huge smile.

“This is just something a friend told me, but people should really throw away rotten mandarin oranges and milk.”

I wonder if Ōhinata had a habit of dragging her friends into the mix when she couldn’t think of a good way to word something. As expected, Ibara returned a forced smile.

“It’s be nice to have that kind of resolution, but it still kind of bugs me that that it’s become something like a weak point of mine. I’ll have to get used to it by the time I become an adult.”

If Ibara were to become a hermit in the Pyrenees Mountains and force herself to eat cheese three times every day, I’m sure she would overcome it somehow.<ref>A range of mountains on the border between France and Spain.</ref> She might even have a cheese-related epiphany on the way down. The legends surrounding Ibara Dairy Manufacturers and how they took the world of cheese production by storm would begin then and there. Maybe.

If she simply didn’t like the taste, then it would be fine as long as she didn’t eat it, but as the problem was her not liking the smell, even ordering the pizza would be problematic. Judging by all the pizza shop fliers that were constantly shoved in our mailbox, it’s possible that there were pizzas that didn’t use cheese, but I didn’t necessarily want pizza so bad that I would beg for that possibility. Besides, the biscuits were surprisingly filling.

“Anyways, Oreki-senpai, you really don’t know anything at all about Ibara-senpai, do you. Even though you were in elementary school together?”

“Pretty much.”

“Why’re you bragging about it?” cut in Ibara.

That’s not what I had intended.

Ōhinata, who had been speedily reaching for the snack plate, suddenly stopped. She started to eye up Ibara with a dubious expession.

“Could that mean what I think it means? Have you never been to this house before either, Ibara-senpai?”

“No way in hell. Just because we were in the same school district doesn’t mean that our houses were close.”

“Really? Wait, but…”

Ōhinata looked at Chitanda sitting next to her on the sofa, and then at Satoshi and Ibara. She tilted her head somewhat in confusion.

“We all arrived here without getting even a little lost. I thought one of us had been here before.”

It felt like time had briefly stopped.

So it had come to this.

It had moved from a conversation about my room, and hadn’t even come close to being a discussion about the meaning behind the lucky cat. To think it would end up going in that direction after I had brought up something like getting pizza, it was completely unexpected.

Because I didn’t know something like Ibara’s food preferences, that meant there wasn’t a very strong bond between the two of us, so consequently, she mostly likely had never been to my house before, huh? I see; it did follow logically. This meant, however, that I had already dug my own grave.

Was it still possible for me to change the subject?

No, it was probably too late for that. The conversation had already reached the point of no return. If I desperately tried to interrupt the flow of the conversation, they would only wonder why I was trying to change the topic and become more unnecessarily curious as a result. Ōhinata’s question was dangerously close to revealing the secret that the lucky cat was hinting at. However, things were still only ‘close.’ It wasn’t a direct hit yet.

It was painful, but the only thing I could do was retreat from the conversation while praying for them to quickly start talking about something else on their own.

If only she understood this as well.

Ibara looked at Satoshi.

“That’s, well, you know. Fuku-chan showed us through the streets, right?”

Satoshi showed a look of confusion, and responded, “I was only remembering the map. This neighborhood is a bit confusing, but I‘m pretty skilled when it comes to memorizing things. As for where I got the map, though…”

“I prepared it,” interjected Chitanda.

“That’s right. I got it from Chitanda.”

He pulled out the map from his pocket to show everyone. It wasn’t one of those extremely fancy maps that showed a lot of details about all the residents, but rather a simple one of the district used by the city. My house’s location was marked on it with a red pen.

“Oh, that’s right. That’s because Chi-chan’s been here once before.”

Upon hearing that, Chitanda stiffened her body.

“Remember? That thing last year. When Irisu-senpai came to us over summer break to ask us for our opinions on her video, Chitanda came here to come get him, didn’t she?”

“Ah, no, that was…”

She had a good memory. Certainly enough, Chitanda had come to get me after hearing from Satoshi that I was planning on skipping it, however that time…

“I had gotten close thanks to Fukube-san’s directions, but I never actually ended up finding the house.”

I had received a phone call that day: “I came to get you, but I seem to have become lost, so please come and get me.” I had quickly managed to find her, but it’s like not like she even saw the front of the house that day.

“I knew the address, however, so as long as I had a map, I’d be able to find it.”

“So that’s all it was.”

Ōhinata started to smile brightly again as if she were satisfied by that explanation.

“You'd be able to figure it out if you knew the address, wouldn’t you. For example, let’s see… like something like that.”

As she said that, her face began to darken.

“Something? What would something be, exactly?”

It seemed this first-year was hung up on something strange. There wasn’t a single similarity between the two, but somehow, seeing Ōhinata and Chitanda lined up like that on the couch reminded me of a patch of roots.

“Oh! New Year’s cards!”

As Ōhinata said this, her face instantly lighting up, Satoshi responded with an unnecessary comment.

“Even so, Hōtarō doesn’t do tiring things like that.”

That was incorrect. I had actually tried to send some in the past, but I ran into the same problem. I didn’t know any of their addresses.

“Is that so?”

Temporarily forgetting her attempts at politeness, she looked at me with a distrusting expression.

“It’s obvious people should send New Year’s cards to their friends at least.”

“It’s fine. We all saw each other in person at the end of the year anyways. New Year’s cards are just a substitute for the people you aren’t going to be able to see.”

“That might be the case, but wasn’t the only reason we were able to greet Oreki-san because I had called him on the phone myself?” said Chitanda without realizing it.

Satoshi put the biscuit he was gnawing at back down and started to smile.

“Ah, this New Year’s was really interesting, wasn’t it? After all, Mayaka even…” Satoshi stopped as he felt Ibara’s piercing glare. Even though it probably wasn’t like she had been forced to do it, Ibara’s part-time job as a miko at the shrine had embarrassed her to no end.<ref>Shrine maiden.</ref> Of course, Ōhinata had no idea what they were talking about.

“What about Ibara-senpai?”

“Never mind that. We were talking about Oreki’s address, right?”

She forcefully returned the conversation to its previous track. I might’ve been able to bury the subject for good had I continued to talk about what had happened over New Year’s, but if I did do that, Ibara would certainly despise me. That didn’t sound like a very appealing outcome either.

As I stressed over this, Ibara suddenly had a blank look on her face that seemed to wonder why she hadn’t realized something so simple up to this point.

“What about the graduate anthology? If I remember correctly, it’s written there.”

“Oh, I see. That makes a lot of sense,” nodded Ōhinata, and then she titled her head once more.

“But Chitanda-senpai didn’t go to Kaburaya Middle School.”

“No, what she said was correct.”

Chitanda had finally said it.

“Oreki-san had a friend from middle school named Sōda-san. I’ve been to Sōda-san’s house plenty of times now, so I asked him if I could see the graduate anthology.”

With this, Ibara and Satoshi raised their voices at the same time.

“So that’s what it was. You should’ve told us.”

“Is that so? You should’ve told us.”

As she was scolded by these two, Chitanda uncharacteristically shrunk back, looking ashamed.

“I thought about asking you two, but I kept passing you by, and I had forgotten all about it in the clubroom… And then all of a sudden, I had business to take care of at Sōda-san’s house.”

“Now that I think about it, Sōda was in our class, wasn't he? Although, he doesn’t really strike me as the type of guy that would be connected with Oreki.”

Certainly, it wasn’t anything exactly like that. Even though he was the type to space out a lot, he was really good at soccer. There was a long history of lending and borrowing books between the two of us.

“Aren’t his parents kind of famous?”

“They’re on the city council. They don’t act self-important at all, though.”

Puffing out his cheeks for show, Satoshi shook his head in an exaggerated manner.

“That’s Chitanda-san for you. I knew you were incredible, but to think you’d even know one of Hōtarō’s middle school friends. You truly inspire awe.”

“No, it really was just a coincidence.”

“Perhaps you have already heard the rumors surrounding my dark and mysterious past as well.”

As if to get back at Satoshi for ignoring her, Chitanda gracefully placed the palms of her hands on top of her thighs and showed a smile.

“I see. For example, something like a rumor concerning how you began to sing a song after forgetting to turn the mic switch off in the broadcasting room? Nope, I haven’t heard anything like that.”

After a couple seconds, Ibara let out a laugh.

“Hahaha, that’s right! Something like that happened.”

That had happened in the fall of our third year in middle school. It was both an amusing and a sorrowful tale.

“Chi-chan, I’m surprised you know so much about that kind of stuff. I didn't even remember that until you mentioned it.”

Satoshi, who had repeatedly prodded at the grove to be greeted by a snake, sat without saying a single word, his face still frozen in its previously teasing smile.<ref>A Japanese proverb. (藪をつついて蛇を出す) It means to have something bad happen to you while doing unnecessary things.</ref> Satoshi was able to tolerate the vast majority of the jokes aimed at him, but as expected, it seemed that incident remained his sole Achilles heel.

I apologized to Satoshi on the inside. After all, the one who told Chitanda about this particular episode was me.

That said, even I didn’t have the callous heart necessary to finish him off by telling Chitanda that what he in fact sang at that moment was some terrible attempt at hip-hop.

However, as Chitanda humbly continued to deny Ibara’s praise, I found it strange that Ōhinata, on the other hand, sat there with her eyes wide-open in shock, her mouth gaping.

As the time for cake quickly approached, I started cleaning up the snack tray and smaller plates for the jam. After I completed my round-trip between the living room and kitchen, only the lucky cat remained on the table. It was only natural that some jam would be spilled no matter how carefully everyone ate, so I brought a kitchen cloth. As I was wiping, I casually muttered, “This is in the way, isn’t it,” and proceeded to move the lucky cat to the side board.

I felt like sighing in relief. As long as I could remove that from the table, I could rest easy. The danger had finally passed by.

I brought out a plate for the cake as well as a knife and forks. The grape juice probably wouldn’t go with the cake very well. I was told that something like coffee or café au lait would work nicely, so I went to the kitchen once more and waited there for the water to boil.<ref>French coffee with milk.</ref>

One cannot see the kinds of faces they naturally make, so as a result, I had no way of knowing whether or not I had a good poker-face. I didn’t think that mine was very easy to read. When Satoshi and Ibara, and especially Ōhinata, had been talking about my address, I wondered if they had noticed me feeling like I was walking on dangerously thin ice.

I had already prepared the coffee cups. Instant coffee wasn’t exactly the most suitable way with which to treat a respected guest of honor, but as it was their fault for coming so suddenly, I couldn’t be bothered. I continued to watch the silent kettle, waiting for it to whistle. In my experience, the human gaze undeniably inhibited the heating of water. As long as I continued to watch the kettle, the water inside would never boil. If I were to avert my eyes for even a second, that would be the instant, without fail, at which the the kettle would start to whistle. Of course, from an energy-conserving standpoint, it would be best to simply look away then, but there wasn’t anything else to look at.

“Oreki-san, the wipe cloth.”

As I turned around, I saw Chitanda holding the kitchen cloth.

“Oh, can you put it over there on the edge of the sink for me?”

I returned to watch the kettle. I assumed Chitanda was still there, so I started talking.

“You stayed silent about it, huh.”

Following a short silence, I heard a response that seemed like it would be drowned out by the noise coming from the ventilation fan.

“Yes. …I suppose the chance slipped me by.”

Previously, Chitanda said that she had learned my address by checking the graduate anthology from my middle school. That she had been told it by a friend of mine, Sōda. It was certainly true that I had had a classmate named Sōda. I had no idea what high school he had gone to after that, but it was definitely not Kamiyama High School. It was most likely true that Chitanda had gotten Sōda to show her the anthology. After all, what she said sounded pretty accurate, and Chitanda wasn’t very good at ad-lib, period.

However, it wasn’t the entire truth.

Satoshi had never been to my house before. Of course, Ibara was the same.

That last summer break, Chitanda had managed to get near my house but didn’t make it all the way was also not a lie.

However, no one said anything about her coming only once. Chitanda had previously come to this house before. Chitanda had handed a map to Satoshi, but even had she not done that, she would have been easily able to find her way through these streets herself.

I heard a slightly dissatisfied voice.

“But you ended up not saying anything either.”

“I suppose the chance slipped me by.”

It was something that had happened this month.

The festival that Chitanda had participated in was running low on participants, and because the clothing would fit me, I had been roped in to help out. The festival had ended without an hitch, but it was cold that day. I ended up catching a cold.

Of course Chitanda, being the one that enlisted my help, couldn’t sit still after hearing I was bedridden. When she had called my house in the morning and heard about my situation from my sister, she immediately came over to visit. Her get-well gift was summer mandarin jam. She told me that mixing a little bit with black tea was good for you when you had a cold. I didn’t really drink black tea, however, so afterwards I got a small bowl and simply licked it like that.

It felt awkward to have Chitanda come into my room, so I put up with the cold and met with her in the living room. When you're in a lot of pain, it really isn’t easy to receive a guest. Chitanda understood this of course and returned home several minutes after handing me the get-well jam. It was only for a little while, sure, but she had come regardless.

“This is difficult… I feel bad for Mayaka-san and the others, but they won’t know if we don’t say anything.”

I didn’t respond as I continued to watch the kettle.

That wasn't how it worked at all, so I became nervous.

She said that they wouldn’t know as long as we didn't tell them, but in reality, Chitanda was simply going to be using her actions rather than her words to declare that she had come to this living room before.

The party was beginning to near its climax. It would soon be time for the cake to make its grand entrance. At that moment, some candles would be stuck into it and be thusly lit. Ōhinata had brought the lighter.

Chitanda had probably thought of the arrangements at this point. It’d be more atmospheric if all the lights were to be turned off while the candles were lit. That was her plan, right?

That’s why the lucky cat remained on the table.

Even though the ashtray, the paperback, and the television remote had all been moved to the side board, only the lucky cat remained. That was something that only someone who knew about its ability to turn off the overhead light would do. In other words, it would point out the single person among all four of them who had come to this house once before.

In reality, when Chitanda had come to this living room before, it was dark inside so I had pressed the lucky cat’s arm to turn on the light. Chitanda would not have forgotten that.

What would actually happen if Chitanda were to use the lucky cat’s arm to turn off the lights? Ibara, or perhaps Ōhinata, would probably say something like this:

“Oh my, so the lucky cat functions as a remote, does it? No wonder it was left on the table. But wait a sec, how did you know this was a remote? Now then, Eru Chitanda, not only did you come to this house, to this very living room, but you additionally saw the lucky cat being used as a light switch, didn't you?!”

Had Chitanda remained silent about it when coming with the rest of them to my house, surely she should have moved the lucky cat to the side board as well.

At the moment, however, I couldn’t say any of that. The candles were going to be coming up soon, which meant so was the lucky cat. If I pointed out her mistake and she started to act suspiciously as a result of that, things could get difficult. …As I was thinking this, I realized that my keeping quiet about the get-well visit wasn’t because “the chance slipped me by." It wasn’t like what we did was really all that shady, after all… It was all so absurd.

As I thought this, I couldn’t help but let out a small smile. As if noticing this, Chitanda asked me.

“What is it?”

“Well…”

As I considered telling her that it was nothing at all, I mentioned something that had suddenly entered my mind.

“It’s possible that Ōhinata didn’t buy your earlier story.”

“Wha…”

I turned around and tried showing her the meanest smile I could muster, but I couldn’t see my face so I didn’t know how well it turned out.

“Doesn’t saying ‘I asked Sōda’ sound like you might've sewed a lie?”

Chitanda tried to force a smile despite her troubled face.

The kettle’s whistle began to scream its high-pitched scream.

<noinclude>
==== Translator's Notes and References ====
<references/>

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</noinclude>

Hyouka:Volume 5 Chapter 1-2

2021-02-08T16:05:41Z

104.172.61.62: /* 2. Past: 42 Days Ago */

=== 2. Past: 42 Days Ago ===

The Friday that fell on the very last day of the new student recruitment week was often called the New Recruit Festival. It was apparently called this not because anyone in particular named it such, but because it was simply more convenient to say.

The new student recruitment itself, however, lasted all throughout the entire week.

From Monday onwards, the new students gathered in the gymnasium after school and sat through several orientations. On Monday was the student council's presentation. After that came the important school committees. From Tuesday on, the various clubs took turns getting on stage to show the various first-years just how fantastic they were. Anyways, there were a considerable number of groups, so the orientations were held over a period of four days.

The same sort of thing happened last year as well, but I wasn’t interested in being solicited, so I left early. Now that I’m on the soliciting side this year, however, I thought I should probably do at least a little enemy reconnaissance. On Tuesday, Chitanda grabbed me and we did a little spying in the gym.

Each group was allotted five minutes to present. In that time, the Theater Club put on a skit, the Clothing Research Society put on a fashion show, the Choir and Acapella clubs showcased the musical differences between the two of them, and the Track-and-Field Sports Club brought in a mat to demonstrate running high jumps.

There were also clubs clearly at a disadvantage. Not only did the Divination Research Society only have one member, that one member didn’t like showing off at all. With a quiet voice, she gave a brief explanation on the history of the Kabbalah and then quickly put down the mic and left. The Cooking Research Society similarly had their own disadvantages. It’s not like you can instantly start preparing something the second you get on the stage. They could only really tell the first-years to come visit them at their table during the end-of-the-week New Recruit Festival because they would treat everyone to their mountain-herb cooking there. The Go Club played a game for the audience, but it was a failure no matter how you looked at it. They didn’t have a large demonstration board, so the audience couldn’t even see where they were placing the stones. It would have been fine if they had someone reading the moves out loud, but apparently there were only two people in the club. It was like time had frozen in place, desperately wanting to run away.

But this wasn’t the time nor place to be feeling sorry for the Go Club. Five minutes was an unexpectedly long amount of time.

The Classics Club was scheduled to present on Thursday. Because they were still sorting things out after becoming second-years, Satoshi and Ibara were often busy so they didn’t show up to the clubroom for the most part. On Wednesday, however, everyone happened to be gathered.

“What are we doing?”

Within my question was not only me wondering how we should fill our five minute timeslot, but me wondering if we were even capable of doing something like that in the first place.

“For now let’s just try our hardest,” responded Ibara with a voice clearly suggesting she wasn’t going to try her hardest.

“I agree, let’s try our hardest,” I retorted in like.

As I said this, however, she replied, “Try our hardest on what?”

How would I know? You were the one that said it first.

“Well as it goes, I’m the club president, so technically speaking I should probably be the one to give a speech that could explain what makes the Classics Club attractive, but…”

Chitanda was also being evasive. Judging by the way she hesitated while saying that sentence, she was, without a doubt, unable to think of any attractive points. That wasn’t all.

“Chitanda, even if you were to go onstage to try to sell up the Classics Club, I don’t think anyone would come.”

“Are you serious? Try looking in a mirror next time you say something like that.”

“No, it’s fine,” said Chitanda to the hostile Ibara. “I know I’m not good at asking people for favors.”

Chitanda had a strong will and limitless amounts of sincerity, but on the other hand, because that will of hers was so one-sided, she didn't have it in her to use cunning tricks. If we had the materials needed to convince them gathered here, Chitanda’s way of doing things might’ve worked, but unfortunately, our hand was empty.

That being said, Ibara was right about me needing to look in the mirror. If I were the one pushed out to face the first-years, I would doubtlessly only be able to say something along the lines of “We don’t really do anything, but we do have a clubroom, so if you could stop on by, that’d be wonderful.”

However, I still had reservations about getting Ibara to do it.

“Chi-chan, I’ve never thought you were bad at it. If it were me doing it, I’d only end up saying something unnecessary.”

It appears the party in question also understood this.

At this point, there was only one person left.

Satoshi showed a troubled look on his face, but his eyes were clearly smiling.

“I wonder if I’m the right person for the job. If there are no other suggestions and you absolutely need me, however, I suppose I could do it to kill some time.”

With that, it became Satoshi’s time to shine.

“If everyone is happy with our Thursday plans, you guys should start deciding on what you’re going to do on Friday. After all, if you plan on using fire or gas, you’ll need to turn in a request slip by tomorrow.”

Satoshi said this in his official General Committee voice and then stood up. I hadn’t known he had been chosen as the General Committee vice-president and was busy as a result of that until later.

And then came Thursday after school. Satoshi Fukube stood on the gym stage as the sole Classics Club representative and let loose a variety of clever, apt one-liners, like “On the way here, I heard a lot of sawing noises coming from the Construction Club, but no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t see a thing. Classics Club, everyone.”<ref>I had to change up the pun.</ref> His appropriate humor invited a good number of laughs from the first-years, and his flawlessly delivered speech wrapped up perfectly in four minutes and thirty seconds. He received a sparse applause and then exited the stage as the Abacus Calculation Club came on next.<ref>This is an actual type of club.</ref>

Even now, I admired my old friend’s remarkable gift.

After all, Satoshi’s speech had almost nothing to do with the actual Classics Club. Even though there was nothing to talk about, he splendidly filled the desired timeslot. That in itself was a spectacular ability, and one that I could never hope to imitate.

And then Friday rolled around. The sky was very clear.

In front of the Kamiyama High School building, in the garden or roundabout (or whatever you called it), there were several spaces dotted with shrubs. During lunch break, each of the clubs and committees had set up tables there. Because of the scattered bushes, the tables couldn’t be set up in a straight line, and as a result, the tables on both sides curved around in any number of offshoots.

I came to set up for the Classics Club. Satoshi was busy with General Committee work, and as much as I believed in my motto, “if I don’t need to do something, I won’t,” I didn’t feel like pushing all of the manual labor onto Ibara and Chitanda. I carried out the table and folding chairs and then lunch break ended. During afternoon classes, I was able to see the venue I set up from the window, but the dozens of tables lined up made the front gardens seem something like mysterious maze.

Before the bell that signaled classes were over chimed, my class, 2-A, started becoming restless. I heard various whispers coming from all directions.

“How are the preparations going?”

“Before anything else, we have to start with this.”

…and other things of that nature. A particularly hasty student put on an armband reading “Certain Victory!” while he was still in the class. Another one placed a stuffed bear on his desk. I couldn’t even begin to guess what clubs these people where in, but I did understand the rush, though. If you were too late to catch the first-years before they left, all of that preparation would have been for nothing. A running start was crucial.

The bell rang, and classes ended. All of my classmates immediately flew out the door like a cascading avalanche. Most likely, this scene was the same in all of the second and third-year classrooms. Although a little reluctant, I ended up joining the end of the avalanche anyways.

The garden that was at one point solely occupied by a line of empty tables was now overwhelmingly covered with various posters, signboards, and handouts. Even at a quick glance, I saw things reading: “Visit the Chemistry Club! May our future relations combust!” “Willing to bet your youth? Damn straight, the Basketball Club is for you!” “Enjoy creating it, and then have fun wearing it! Clothing Research Society.” “The Han Dynasty hath fallen, and the History Research Club shall be joineth!”<ref>This is a play on words. The original line (蒼天已死黄天当立) comes from the Chinese Records of the Three Kingdoms, and it generally refers to the predicted downfall of the Han Dynasty and success of the Yellow Scarves Rebellion. For more information: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yellow_Turban_Rebellion</ref> “One more person and we’ll have eleven! Join the Soccer Club.” The Cheering Squad held a group flag, the Cheerleading Club formed a large circle, the smell of black tea began to drift from the Confectionery Research Society, the Tea Ceremony Club had diligently laid out an outdoor mat, and a bunch of people with headbands had gathered who were, if I remembered correctly, part of the Broadcasting Club. Not even ten minutes had passed since the school bell rang, and already this much pandemonium had broken loose.

All of this had started at 3:30, and it was scheduled to be completely taken down once it had reached 6:00. This roughly two-hour long madness was commonly known as the New Recruit Festival. The fact that the "recruit" in the name didn’t mean “warmly invite” but rather “solicit by any means necessary” was something very typical of this school, indeed.

Most clubs had a single standard table, but depending on member count, popularity, and some invisible political element, there were other clubs that had one of the several large ones. Of course, it was decided beforehand which clubs would get them. The Classics Club had the number 17 table, so as I wandered around, searching for it, Chitanda called out to me, “Oreki-san, over here.”

I wasn’t looking forward to it that much, but as expected, our table was placed in a small corner of the venue. On it sat a small cardboard sign reading “Classics Club.” While the writing was elegant, it also felt unreservedly warm. Without a sign, no one would be able to tell what kind of club we were trying to get them to join, but we hadn’t mentioned doing this kind of preparation. Possibly reading my expression, Chitanda gave a slightly conflicted laugh.

“I put it together during lunch break. I probably should have made it a bit cuter, but I didn’t think of that at the time.”

That meant this was Chitanda’s handwriting. I thought she’d normally write in a more textbook fashion, but her brushwork was surprisingly carefree. Just as she had mentioned, however, it wasn’t cute in the slightest. It might’ve been nice if Ibara had drawn a little figure on it, but hindsight’s 20/20.

Chitanda wore a black coat as she sat on the folding chair. The front wasn’t buttoned, so her white sweater and tie peeked through. I was also wearing a white trench coat. The New Recruit Festival around us had plenty of burning passion, but even then, it was still abnormally cold for April. Looking around, almost all of the recruiters and the recruited students wore thick overclothes.

Next to the Classics Club were the Ink Painting and Karuta clubs. Each of them only had one person stationed there. I gave vague greetings, and squeezed through them. I then sat next to Chitanda, directly in the center of the “Classics Club” sign.

Satoshi wouldn’t be coming this time. He was busy with General Committee work, so it couldn’t be helped. Then Chitanda spoke up.

“I guess Mayaka-san won’t be coming after all.”

“Manga Society?”

“I think that’s the case, but it’s not like she’s going to be at their booth necessarily.”

I remained quiet and nodded. I heard that Ibara’s position in the Manga Research Society had become somewhat delicate. It was probably becoming difficult for her to even look the rest of them in the face. At any rate, we’d run into some problems if Ibara ended up coming now. Although I thought it was pretty big when I was carrying it earlier, looking at it now, the table we got wasn’t nearly as big as the larger ones.

More precisely, it was really small.

With just the two of us sitting side-by-side, it was already getting a little hard to breathe. Had Chitanda been a little considerate in moving to give me some breathing room I would have been quite comfortable, but unfortunately, she had a peculiar understanding regarding personal space, so the fact that we were close enough for our shoulders to be touching didn’t bother her in the slightest.

I took a small breath. Let’s just play it cool. I wasn't the only one that thought it was cramped. Just in my field of vision, for example, I could see the Photography Club and Global Act Club squeezed far too closely together, and we all had to start advertising our club whilst buried in this mess.

At any rate, I had to start doing something to catch the attention of the passing first-years.

With interested expressions that were still clearly intimidated by the presence of their seniors and faces that still betrayed their middle-school roots, the first-years came little by little. At that moment, I could’ve sworn that I heard the sound of people licking their lips, thinking their prey had finally arrived. Fake, luring smiles filled the New Recruit Festival grounds.

The Classics Club couldn’t afford to lose either. Now, now, come on up ladies and gentlemen. Come forward, anyone with a little time to spare. If you would like to join the fantastic Classics Club, the reception table is right over here.

After five minutes, I became bored.

No one was even stopping at our table.

“I said I was going to catch us some first-years, but how do I even do that in the first place,” I grumbled as I stared at the new students passing by. Chitanda sat upright, her hands resting on her thighs, and without looking at me she responded.

“If only we had some birdlime, this would be simple.”<ref>Birdlime is an adhesive that traps birds that land on it.</ref>

I knew roughly what birdlime was, but I had never seen it before. At most, it’s something like a bug net, right?

“Wouldn’t a bird net be more efficient?”

“Possibly, but it’s illegal.”

“I don’t think anyone will find out.”

“Oreki-san, are you the kind of person that ignores a red signal in the middle of the night?”

“I’m the kind of person that doesn’t go out on walks in the middle of the night, period.”

The conversation was so unproductive that it put even me in a miserable mood.

“You strike me as the type that would stop at that red light.”

“There are no traffic signals where I take my midnight strolls.”

It was so incredibly unproductive.

I assumed something like this would happen, so I took out the book hidden in my coat pocket. I started reading the short story collection, and then spoke to Chitanda who continued to face forward exactly as a receptionist might.

“We have nothing to do, so I’m going to be reading.”

As I said this, Chitanda finally turned to face me, and with a soft smile she said, “That won’t do.”

“But no one’s coming.”

“That won’t do. Please just sit here quietly.”

Understood. I returned the book to my pocket. Thinking about it, if I were reading a book on the side like I had no interest in the festival, I guess new students would find it difficult to approach the table. On the other hand, if I were to remain sitting like this until evening, it would just get colder and colder. I crossed my hands behind my head.

Chitanda also looked like she had way too much time on her hands. No matter how strong her sense of responsibility was, she wasn’t an inanimate object, so we should probably leave if nothing continued to happen. She turned her head to the side and seemed to be watching an excited student from another club with interest.

People continued to flow by. For some reason, as I watched this progression, I spoke.

“Cursed spots really do exist.”

“Yes, they do.”

She replied immediately. I didn’t know what to say in response.

A little while later, Chitanda turned to me and tilted her head.

“That’s not what you were talking about?”

What exactly was ‘that’ referring to? I decided to not think about it too hard and leaned back into my folding chair.

“You know, one of those. In something like a shopping district or roadside area, even though it doesn’t look like it’s in a bad location compared to the other shops, you have a store that is constantly being destroyed and replaced by a new one. Before you realize it, there’s a new shop there, and no matter what kind of shop it is, it never gets any business. I was just thinking that spots like those really existed.”

“Ah, I see. A place that's constantly changing ownership. It’s mysterious, but once they change the signboard, I can never seem to remember what kind of shop it was previously.”

“That’s true, isn’t it? When it becomes a vacant lot, you end up even forgetting if there was a shop there in the first place.”

Chitanda nodded and her expression begged me to continue. I wanted to avoid her eyes so I slightly averted my face. As if to bring attention away from that, I lightly tapped the table with the back of my hand.

“I’m getting the same vibes here.”

“By ‘here’, do you mean this area?”

“Yeah.”

One section of the row of tables was placed in an area surrounded by ring of hedges. According to the General Committee’s official statement, the Classics Club was to be one of the clubs stationed in that clearing, however, I had been watching the path that the students had been taking since earlier, and things weren’t looking good.

When the first-years entered the ring, their backs were turned to us. If students weren’t interested in what was going on and decided to continue through to the school gates, they wouldn’t even see us once, however, if one was curious, if even for a little bit, and they decided to look around, they would naturally end up directly in front of our table. Judging solely by the flow of traffic, this spot shouldn’t leave a bad impression at all.

And yet, for some reason none of the first-years were even so much as stopping in front of it. They wouldn’t even look at Chitanda’s handwritten Classics Club sign.

“Doesn’t it feel like people are finding it hard to stop walking around here for some reason?”

As Chitanda watched the group passing in front of us, she slowly responded.

“I think the biggest problem is that we aren’t calling out to them.”

Loud voices from every club were intersecting each other in the air all throughout the front gardens. “Hey, you look like a quiz kind of guy. I’m sure you’re searching for a quiz even as we speak. I feel you. Well then, first question!” “We also host English debates. Your English grade will certainly rise; it normally does.” “No no, I’ll start from the rules. It’s easy if you memorize them. If you just pay attention to where “gold” and “silver” are, you’ll be fine!”<ref>”Gold” and “silver” here refer to pieces from Shogi, a Japanese version of chess.</ref> “Are you bad at cooking? It’s fine if you are, because you’ll only get better in the Cooking Society. Come to our clubroom now and we'll make you something right away!” “Astronomy Club, Astronomy club over here! Do you like stars? Love planets? Although technically we can’t see them right now.” I had just realized it, but even the singularly manned Ink Painting Club and Karuta Club were calling out to the passing students.

Certainly enough, staying quiet and then complaining that ‘no one was stopping’ seemed pretty irrational.

At the same time, however, Chitanda then said this.

“Although, with ‘that’ thing right in front of us, it does seem a little unfair.”

While saying this, she indicated what she was talking about with her eyes.

‘That’ was putting on a huge exhibition in front of the students passing along the path. A large banner read “Ready for Tea Time.” It was an exquisite banner with cat and panda mascots embroidered on it with beads. A black tea fragrance wafted from it. On the table were a Thermos, two stacks of paper cups, a club entry form, and a pen. On one end of the table were also a tabletop gas stove and a golden kettle, the type that a sports team might drink from during a match. That shining kettle looked as if it could carry an impressive 10 liters. At the moment, the stove wasn’t turned on.

And the thing that stood out the most was the pumpkin on the opposite side from the gas stove. This utterly massive thing had eyes and a mouth carved into it to turn it into a Halloween decoration. Did Halloween take place in April?

In the center behind the table were two girls. Both of them wore only aprons over their school uniforms. Even though that was the case, they were so enthusiastic that it seemed like the cold hadn’t even reached them. Sandwiched in-between the pumpkin and gas stove, they vigorously waved their arms around.

“Come and have a bite. Cookies you’ll be sure to love! Great, here you go!”

“The thing is, we put a mysterious concoction inside these cookies. Now you’ve fallen into our trap. You want to join the club now. See, you really want to join. You want to join so badly that you can’t stand it anymore. The registration sheet is right over here."

“Yes, this is that kind of cookie. I’d be bad if it got stuck in your throat, so drink some of this here black tea.”

As she said this, she picked up the Thermos and poured the tea into a paper cup.

“Hey you, you over there. You look like the type who loves cookies!”

“Ah, you’re right! He does have a face perfectly suited towards eating cookies. Now eat up. It doesn’t matter why, just eat it!”

Somehow I felt like I’d met those two before. What was it, I wonder. I don’t think I’ve seen their faces before.

It seemed like they had a lot of cookies prepared. They were giving them out one after another. I didn’t know whether or not their plan was actually succeeding in getting people to sign up, but they were certainly getting a lot of students to stop.

“The Confectionery Research Society, huh?”

“Yes, you can’t help but look over there, completely forgetting about the Classics Club.”

Using food to lure the new students in, what a dastardly pair. At any rate, those who would let their hearts be stolen over something like a cookie were probably frivolous people anyways. They wouldn’t make good additions to the Classics Club. As I was playing around in my head with my baseless accusations and “we are the chosen few” rhetoric, I noticed Chitanda seemed a bit strange next to me. She was staring intently at the busy Confectionery Research Society table without so much as twitching.

No way... I called to her with fear in my voice.

“Chitanda?”

“Huh… oh, what is it?”

The startled Chitanda turned towards me, and I asked her a question.

“Is it possible…”

“Yes?”

“…you want a cookie?”

Chitanda thought a bit and then replied with an earnest expression.

“If I said no, I would be lying.”

“It’s fine if you go and get one.”

“Thank you very much, but I can’t. We have other priorities.”

One again, she turned her head to stare at the Confectionery Research Society.

“Isn’t there something strange going on over there?”

Caught in her trap, I ended up looking once more myself. The energetic duo. The Thermos, paper cups, and club entry sheet. The tabletop gas stove, pumpkin, and cookies.

…Well I couldn’t deny that there were certainly strange things going on with their choices in presentation. The strangest thing there was probably how lively the two were.

Other than those, maybe there were one or two more weird aspects.

“I guess you’re right. It is odd.”

I was careless to let that slip out. Chitanda suddenly turned towards me. Because the table was so small, when she did, I could feel her so close to me that I instantly jumped back without thinking.

“Really? Which parts are odd?”

“What do you mean ‘which parts’? You were the one that said it first, weren't you? It just is.”

Or perhaps she was playing some sort of high-level mind game with me, saying that “it was strange in a way that only the Confectionery Research Club could be.”<ref>In Japanese, the word for strange, okashii, sounds almost identical to a word meaning confections, okashi.</ref>

Chitanda casted a sidelong glance at the commotion surrounding the cookie distribution and then whispered something in response.

“I know, but the thing is ever since a while back I can’t help but feel like something strange is going on. I have these thoughts, and it’s so frustrating.”

“Oh, that’s probably just…”

“Please wait!”

I stopped speaking and swallowed the words before they came out.

“Please don’t tell me yet. I’m still trying to figure out the answer. Yes, I feel like I understand it somewhat.”

I’ve been asked plenty of times to give an answer, but I have never been told to not give one before. While I was considering how rare this was, I stared at the side of Chitanda’s close face as she stared at the Confectionery Society in turn.

At last, she looked resolute.

“It’s the pumpkin. I have a feeling that the pumpkin is off.”

The orange pumpkin had two triangular eyes and a jagged mouth cut into it. No matter how you looked at it, it was your standard, run-of-the-mill Jack O’Lantern, but I could understand why it might have attracted one’s eyes to such an extent.

Chitanda, however, pursued a different line of thought.

“Goods along those lines aren’t authorized in Japan… No, that’s wrong. That’s just a normal variety of pumpkin seed.”

“Is that so?”

“Pumpkins are grown in the fall, but I guess if they were stored properly, it wouldn’t be strange that they didn’t rot.”

“I see.”

“They aren’t being widely sold as a commercial crop yet. I don’t think there are any farming families growing them in Kamiyama City.”

“I’m shocked.”

“But you can buy them normally at the supermarket. Is it domestically-produced? Or perhaps it’s an imported variety.”

“Why are you looking at it from an agricultural perspective!?”

That part wasn’t the problem. As she continued to miss the point so splendidly every time, I began to feel like remaining silent was an evil deed in itself.

Chitanda whispered a couple more things to herself, but finally let out a small sigh.

“I guess everything up until now was wrong. I have no idea. I give up. Why am I so curious about that pumpkin?”

She became bashful, as if apologizing for her previous obstinacy.

“I’m curious.”

Normally I would have thought this kind of thing was a nuisance.

After all, Chitanda’s limitless curiosity had brought about a similarly limitless number of nuisances to not only the Classics Club, but to this energy-saving advocate right here as well. Thinking rationally about it, even had I not resolved a large majority of these, it’s not like I would be any worse off than I was now, and yet, even I didn’t really understand why I ended up sticking around all the way to the end in most of these cases. I think Chitanda’s large eyes were to blame.

However today, as Chitanda said she was curious at that moment in this very spot, I didn’t find it all that annoying. After all, sitting behind this table, I wasn’t allowed to read a book nor get up and leave. If I was only going to be sitting at this table anyways, I figured having a discussion wouldn’t be bad.

At the same time, I had already mostly understood the true identity of the thing that had caused Chitanda to have a ‘feeling that something was off.’ It didn’t look like this discussion would last for very long. I started speaking.

“That pumpkin is pretty big, isn’t it.”

Chitanda tilted her head.

“Well it’s a Cucurbita pepo variety, so it actually isn’t that big in compari…”<ref>One of the most common pumpkin varieties.</ref>

Her tone suddenly shifted.

“You could probably just barely fit your arms around it, right? At the very least, it’s considerably larger than the cardboard you used to make the Classics Club sign.”

She looked at the sign, and then finally nodded in assent.

“That’s correct. It’s much larger.”

“That pumpkin was placed on one side of the table, and on the other side is the tabletop gas stove, and yet, between them are two Confectionery Society members jumping around and handing out cookies. At our table are just the two of us sitting side by side, and it’s already this cramped.”

“Really? Is it that cramped?”

Just as I thought, she didn’t think so at all.

Let's just put that aside for now. Because we were watching the table from a gap in the passing flood of students, and its orientation was somewhat diagonal when compared to ours, it was probably difficult for her to gauge distance. The answer to Chitanda’s question was actually very simple.

“The Confectionery Society’s table is bigger than ours. When I was setting up our table earlier, I noticed there were several clubs using extra-large ones. You didn’t know the tables came in different sizes. Isn’t that why you felt a strange sense of discomfort?”

“Ah…”

Chitanda’s voice leaked out.

However, her face wasn’t glowing.

“Their table is extra-large. You can figure that out from the distance between the pumpkin and gas burner. I see. Just like you mentioned, I hadn’t noticed that. But I have a feeling that it’s something else. …In that case, why do they have a pumpkin there?”

And now we arrived at the ‘why’. It was a difficult question.

“Does there have to a reason in using decorations? Handing out cookies while using a Halloween theme makes a certain amount of sense, doesn’t it?”

Even though it was completely out of season.

Chitanda returned to look at the Confectionery Society.

“Let me change my phrasing a bit. If they didn’t have the pumpkin there, what would happen?”

As she asked that, I tried imagining it. What would happen if you took away the pumpkin, and the table only had a tabletop gas stove and kettle.

“The table would look fairly open and spacious.”

“I agree.”

She then turned towards me and started speaking slowly, as if emphasizing the point.

“If that pumpkin wasn’t there, don’t you think the Confectionery Society would be able to do so much more with all the space?”

I felt like I understood what she was getting at.

Considering the pumpkin was solely being used as a decoration, the Confectionery Society was limiting the amount of space they had. And yet, even though they had done that, it didn’t look like they were cramped at all.

This meant that they had an excessive amount of table space. To think they were even assigned an extra-large table in the first place.

“So are you saying that them having the extra-large table is a waste?”

Chitanda shook her head slightly.

“That’s not what I’m saying. It’s just that they seem to be using the same amount of space that we are at our smaller table. In that case, why were they assigned an extra-large table?”

The General Committee was responsible for divvying up all of the spots. Naturally, they also decided which clubs got to use the extra-large tables. For example, if a physically bulky club like the Brass Band Club was given an extra-large table, no one would think twice. Yet, the Confectionery Society didn’t take up a lot of space. Even at the moment, there were only two there advertising.

I could think of several reasons aside from that, however, that might explain it.

“Possibility one: There were a lot of extra-large tables, and all of the clubs that actually needed them got one, so there was a surplus. As a result, even the Confectionery Society was given one.”

“Do you really think so?”

Hearing such an earnest response to my half-assed theory almost made me choke on my words.

“Not really...”

“I don’t think so either. If that were there case, it’d be unfair to the clearly-troubled Photography Club and Flower Arrangement Club over there.”

I could see the Photography Club completely drowning in their photos with not enough room to put all of them, but the Flower Arrangement Club that Chitanda pointed out as well was in an even worse position. Because they lined up a row of showy flower arrangements on their table, the final result resembled something more akin to a densely packed jungle as opposed to a collection of floral pieces, and on top of that, you couldn’t even see the club members’ faces. They had probably brought one arrangement per person without thinking about it and quickly ran out of room. Besides, I had basically known there was no surplus in the first place.

Extra-large tables are distributed among the clubs that have a lot of showpieces to exhibit, while the Confectionery Society puts up with a normal-sized one. This is what normally should have happened. So why didn’t it?

“Possibility two: The Confectionery Society has pull with the General Committee, and they bribed these connections to make off with an extra-large table.”

Recruiting the new students was a matter of survival of the fittest; it was accepted that those who haphazardly approached the event without a plan of attack were morons. For a little while after, Chitanda had a sad look in her eyes. Was she despairing over the cruelty behind this cold calculation? In the end, however, she finally replied.

“So after doing that and making off with the extra-large table, those two…”

“Put a big pumpkin on it.”

No, that was wrong. There was a fundamental contradiction in that. If they didn’t have a way to effectively use that extra space, there wouldn’t even be a reason to pull so many strings to get one in the first place.

If I assume they went after one deliberately, then it was possible that they were using the extra-large table not because they needed it, but because it put the clubs that would need it at a disadvantage. By this hypothesis, the Confectionery Society secured the extra-large table simply to harass the other clubs. It wasn’t like that couldn’t be the case, but the realm of possibility is often far separated from that of reality. I didn’t believe they would go that far, and I don’t think Chitanda would either.

“Let’s just put that one aside for now. Time for possibility three.”

Deep, down inside, I thought that this one was the correct answer. Listing the other two before it was… well… me just killing time really.

It took a little bit for me to find the words.

“The Confectionery Society filled out a request to use a particular device, and they were given an extra-large table because they needed the space for safety purposes as a result.”

“What device would that be?”

There was something that you needed to get special permission for.

“Fire. The tabletop gas stove.”

Upon hearing this, Chitanda turned her head and once again looked over towards the Confectionery Society.

“The Confectionery Society was given an extra-long table in order to use that. It’s dangerous to use fire in a narrow space, after all. However, the table was much too large with only the gas stove at the end. As a result, they added the pumpkin to the other end of the table in order to achieve a nice, pleasant balance. Doesn’t this sound correct to you?”

With this, I was sure I solved the mystery behind the pumpkin. It took a little more than I thought it would, but Chitanda was sure to be satisfied with this.

How naïve I was. Chitanda continued to stare intently at the Confectionery Society table, as well at its ever-energetic club members handing around cookies and black tea.

After an anxiety-inducing period of silence, Chitanda slowly turned towards me.

“I see. I wish I could call it a fantastic deduction, however…”

I also started looking at the thing Chitanda was staring at in particular. A Thermos. Paper cups. A tabletop gas stove and kettle.

”The gas stove isn’t being used.”

Certainly enough, the fire wasn’t lit at the moment. You could figure that out just by looking.

But even that being the case, Chitanda’s point didn’t make any sense.

“What are you saying? Just because they aren’t using it at the moment doesn’t mean they won’t be using it later.”

Currently, they were pouring tea from the Thermos, however, if they continued to distribute it, they would eventually run out. When that happened, they would certainly use the gas stove to heat up more. Even a kindergartner could figure that out.

Chitanda suddenly moved her face close to mine. I looked up and our eyes met. It was like her pupils penetrated all the way through to the bottommost areas of my heart.

“Oreki-san, you were thinking that I was dumb just now, weren’t you.”

“I wouldn’t say…”

“Then, were you thinking I was an idiot?”

I was thinking it was logic that even a kindergartner would understand.

Chitanda leaned back in her chair and started talking in a miffed tone.

“It’s not like I say things without thinking beforehand. I figured it out when I was looking really carefully at the table.”

Chitanda had an impressive sense of vision, hearing, and smell. Her taste was probably similar. Perhaps she had caught on to something that I didn’t notice as a result of those five senses.

“What did you see?”

“Nothing that you can’t.”

She probably wasn’t sulking. She was issuing me a challenge. Damn you, I thought and then strained my eyes to look for something.

I guess I couldn’t say that there was nothing suspicious.

“That kettle looks brand-new. It doesn’t look like it’s been used over a fire even once yet.”

In saying that, however, there was no way to tell if it hadn’t actually been used before just from that observation. I snuck a quick glance at Chitanda, and I could see her cracking a small smile without looking like she was going to say anything anytime soon. …Which probably meant that wasn’t it.

“The Confectionery Society is giving out black tea. They are pouring it out of the Thermos into the paper cups. Once they run out, they’ll have to boil more, of course.”

Wait a second, that’s incorrect. You don’t boil black tea.

Ah, so that’s what it was. Even if the Confectionery Society was really boiling water over there, was there really anything they could do with just that?

“I understand now. You were talking about the black tea, right?”

“Exactly,” she replied, seemingly puffing out her chest with pride. “The Confectionery Society is handing out cookies and black tea. Even if they decided to boil some water, there’d be no point if they didn’t have the tea leaves, and yet, I haven’t seen these tea leaves anywhere on their table. They must have previously brewed the tea somewhere else and then poured it into the Thermos.”

Although I constantly recognized her incredible senses, there were few times when I thought her insight was similarly extraordinary. I wasn’t feeling down at being bested by her, but I retorted with a stingy counter anyways.

“Maybe the black tea base is already in the Thermos. All they needed to do would be directly add the boiling water and it would turn into black tea. Or maybe the leaves were in the kettle…”

As I finished saying this, Chitanda’s eyes became wide.

“Oreki-san… don’t tell me you’ve never brewed black tea before?”

I remained silent.

That was exactly the case. I preferred coffee much more, but even when I did drink black tea, it would always be some that I got from a vending machine. As a result, I had never once had the need to brew it for myself. It almost felt like me admitting to my life’s pathetic nature however, so I didn’t want to say that out loud.

“If you were to do that, the tea would get more and more bitter. That’s why it’s made in teapots with removable strainers and why the tea leaf packages themselves have recommended amounts for single use. For example, even if you were to use a tea bag, you’d normally take out the bag after a certain amount of time had passed.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes it is.”

So that’s how it all worked. I wasn’t very knowledgeable about the whole thing, but I could at least understand that there was something wrong with the fact that they didn’t have tea leaves nor a pot used to brew the tea in.

This meant that the black tea that they had already prepared in their Thermos was all they had, and that the gas stove wasn’t there to make more.

Things were becoming increasingly bizarre.

“I guess this means that the Confectionery Society wasn’t planning on using the gas stove that they prepared from the very start. In that case it’s just like the pumpkin; at this point it's just a decoration.”

I thought for a bit.

“Even if they aren’t using it, I still think my hypothesis about them being assigned an extra-large table after applying for permission to use the gas stove was correct. The strange part is how they don’t seem to have a use for it. What does that mean, then?”

“What, indeed.”

Unexpectedly, this was starting to become a hassle. I went along with it at first just to kill some time, but to think it would drag on for this long. Incidentally, as I was being pursued by this anxiety, I turned away from Chitanda. She also averted her eyes at the same time.

We then both noticed a person standing in front of us.

Skin tanned under the cloudy skies that persisted even in spring. Hair cut short. A face and countenance that suggested a lively, gallant nature. A thick jacket that would have hidden the sex of its wearer had it not been unfastened, showing the sweater and tie underneath. At essentially the same time, Chitanda and I saw a girl standing before us. It wasn’t like I forgot we were in the middle of the New Recruit Festival, but I didn’t think anyone would actually come to our table. How long had she been standing there?

As the two of us sat there dumbfounded and unable to speak, the girl stuck her hands into her jacket pockets and slightly bowed her head.

“Hi there.”

She then flashed a beaming smile.

Chitanda was the first to come to her senses.

“O… oh, um, are you perhaps interested in joining? My name is Chitanda. I’m the club president.”

The girl in the jacket continued to smile as she responded.

“Not necessarily, but I was walking around and looking at the clubs, and I finally saw you guys looking like you were talking about something interesting over here. My name’s Ōhinata. I’m a first-year.”

It was my first time hearing the name. It wasn’t as rare as the name “Chitanda,” but it was still very peculiar, so I had I feeling I wouldn’t forget it. Even that was already out of character for me. I wasn’t normally good at remembering things like names and faces after all.

And yet, it felt like I had seen her face somewhere before. There could only be one reason for me knowing a first-year’s face.

“Kaburaya Middle School?”

Ōhinata looked at me and smiled as if she were extremely happy.

“Yes,” she nodded. She was a very straightforward person.

“I see.”

Just like I thought, she was once an underclassman of mine. I figured I should say something about Kaburaya Middle School, but there wasn’t really anything I wanted to ask or talk about, so I stayed silent.

Chitanda started to speak from the side.

“Well, we are recruiting at the moment, so how about it? Over at the Classics Club we do… various things.”

Well put.

“I don’t know, it seems kind of complicated. You guys read stuff like classical Chinese literature, right? I mean I guess I do like Japanese studies and all…”

“No, we don’t do those kinds of things. Of course, if you would like to we could.”

“Is that so? Still though…”

I didn’t know if Ōhinata had heard something up in the sky somewhere, but she suddenly stooped over and brought her face close to Chitanda’s.

“This is just something a friend told me, but people should finish the things they start. So? What’s up with the pumpkin after all?”

“Wha…?”

I see. So she was eavesdropping on us, huh?

“From which part did you start listening?”

“Umm,” she thought as she pursed her lips from side to side, “From the part where you told her she could go and get some cookies if she wanted to.”

“That’s basically from the beginning!”

Chitanda let out something like a yell. Her cheeks were becoming visibly flushed.

“You heard everything? That’s so embarrassing.”

Could you really call a conversation like that embarrassing?

It was such an unexpected reaction that it caused even Ōhinata to falter.

“Um, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to overhear it all. It’s just that… I just got really curious about the pumpkin when I heard you guys talking about it, so I kind of just stopped walking and it went from there. I couldn’t help but wonder how much you guys were going to think about the pumpkin, is all.”

She quickly lowered her head.

“I’m really sorry.”

“No… It’s fine.”

As Chitanda said this, she brought her hand up to her mouth like she was about to cough. Ōhinata also had an embarrassed expression for a little while after, but she quickly reverted to her original self.

“So? What’s up with the pumpkin?”

Chitanda aside, why was this first-year’s curiosity so fired up about something like that as well. As I thought this, however, I figured I’d just continue anyways and ignore the new element. I recalled the point where we had left off.

“If I remember correctly, we were talking about the gas stove being unused.

“The reason they have the space to use a pumpkin as decoration is because they have an extra-large table.

“The reason they were assigned an extra-large table was because they filed a form asking to use a gas stove.

“However, in reality, they aren’t using the gas stove. Something’s fishy. We left off right around there.”

I looked to Chitanda as I said this, but she only casted her eyes downwards without responding. It looked like she was really embarrassed after all. Ever since Chitanda joined the club, she’s been bringing troublesome things behind her one after another, and yet this was the first time I had ever seen her like this. What was she so conscious about?

“So how about this then?” Ōhinata asked with a voice that sounded like it was competing with the surrounding ruckus. “Those guys had initially planned on using the gas stove for a reason that was unrelated to brewing black tea, but later their plans changed, and they ended up not needing it. More importantly than its use, however, was the fact that they felt they had to put the gas stove on the table even though they weren’t going to use it.”

“Interesting.”

She must have really payed attention to our conversation if she could already make these kinds of deductions. Although, that’s not to say they were correct.

“However it should have been decided long ago that they were going to distribute black tea and confections. At any rate, it’s not like they suddenly decided on it today. It’s a bit inconsistent to assume that they had long decided on handing out tea and confections while also having plans to use a gas stove for a different purpose.”

“We don’t necessarily know that’s the case, do we? If they had the ingredients and tea on hand, wouldn’t they be able to make them in time even had they decided on it today? If they started in the morning, wouldn’t they be able to finish by the afternoon?”

It’s true that the Confectionery Society would most likely have the cookie ingredients ready to go if they needed them. That wasn’t the problem, though. I raised my arm and pointed towards the item in question.

“That’s true about the cookies, however the banner isn’t really something you could make in the same amount of time.”

The large banner that read “Ready for Tea Time” was embroidered with a ton of beads. It would be extremely difficult to sew that entire thing between classes.

“They had decided a while ago on the 'tea time' theme, and as a result, they were able to spend time making that.”

“Whaaat…”

Ōhinata appeared dissatisfied.

“Yeah, I guess if you put it like that I’d have to agree. This is really difficult.”

Looking at her, I couldn’t help but feel like I'd made a mistake. I didn’t really have any obligation to illuminate the truth for Ōhinata, so it probably would have been much easier to just say something like ‘you might be right there’. As an energy-saving advocate, I made the wrong choice.

“In that case, let’s see…”

She began thinking again. Considering Ōhinata wasn’t the one who originally thought the pumpkin was strange, she seemed to be very enthusiastic about the whole matter. She said something about always finishing what you start, but maybe that was actually her own motto.

Apparently unable to think of anything else, Ōhinata started to glare menacingly at the Confectionery Society and began saying things like “Anyways, it’s pretty much decided that they're bad people.”

“That’s pretty cruel of you. Even if you say all that, I’ve found myself eating quite a number of their cookies already.”

“Did they come over here to hand some out?”

“They came to sell them to me during the culture festival. So anyways, why do you say they’re bad people?”

Ōhinata once again threw a quick glare at the Confectionery Society and then spoke with her chest puffed out.

“This is just something a friend told me, but apparently people who don’t use nametags are always pretty shady.”

I wonder about that. I think I’d prefer to not have a tag hanging from my chest reading ‘Hōtarō Oreki’ no matter where I went. Or maybe it was some kind of metaphor.

As I was stuck thinking up a response, Chitanda suddenly raised her head.

“That’s it!”

“Wh… what is?”

“Ōhinata-san said it perfectly. How wonderful, that’s exactly the problem.”

The frightened Ōhinata took a step back. Chitanda, try not to scare the innocent first-year.

“What are you talking about?”

Upon hearing this, Chitanda almost certainly started to drill a hole into my head with her strong gaze.

“It’s strange that the pumpkin was placed there.”

“Isn’t that exactly why we started this conversation in the first place?”

“No, not that. I’m talking about this.”

As she said that, she pointed to the only thing placed on our table, the signboard that read “Classics Club”.

“I knew I thought something was strange. It’s the fact that the Confectionery Society is missing something.”

From beside the enthusiastic Chitanda, Ōhinata timidly started to ask a question.

“Um… for a while now you two have been constantly mentioning something called the Confectionery Society, but what exactly does that stand for?”<ref>While not necessarily clear in the translation, the shorthand that they have been using for Confectionery Research Society, seika-kenkyūkai, is seikaken, so while it might make more sense in English, the Japanese would sound ambiguous to someone who didn’t know what word was being abbreviated.</ref>

“You see!?”

As she said that, I finally realized it. The Confectionery Society was missing something that it should obviously have.

Unbelievable. I was so used to Kamiyama High School that I had thoughtlessly glossed over such an important fact. Just by seeing those two jump around, I had known they were from the Confectionery Research Society. However…

“So that’s what it was. They don’t have a sign. ‘Confectionery Research Society’ isn’t written anywhere, not on the table nor on their banner.”

“Exactly. Even though they’re recruiting new members, they don’t have their name anywhere, which should be the most important thing when doing that, and seeing something like a pumpkin there instead made me curious.”

Ignoring Ōhinata as she nodded with newfound comprehension concerning the Confectionery Research Society’s shorthand, I started to think.

Was it a mistake on their part? No, it couldn’t be. For a club that put as much effort into the New Recruit Festival as they did with their extravagant banner, that kind of oversight should have been impossible.

Then, was it just like Ōhinata had mentioned earlier? Had the Confectionery Society done something so shady that it would prevent them from putting their name up? What could something like that even be? In the first place, who would be on the receiving end of that shady action?

Did it have something to do with the gas stove they got permission to use but ended up not using at all?

A large amount of yelling reached my ears. The Quiz Club, the Debate Club, the Photography Club, the Flower Arrangement Club, the Cooking Society, the Astronomy Club, and now, the Confectionery Research Society.

“Oreki-san?”

I turned to face Chitanda.

I felt like I knew what had happened for the most part.

”It’s because the place where that pumpkin is sitting right now doesn’t belong to the Confectionery Society.”

I ended up instantly stating the conclusion without any lead-up.

Naturally there were a lot of steps omitted to get to that point, so Chitanda stared at me blankly.

“What do you mean it’s not theirs?”

“Well… It’s probably best if I go in order.”

I stayed quiet long enough to arrange the explanation in my head.

“Basically, it’s this.

“If there was a club that filed for permission to use a tabletop gas stove, that club would be assigned an extra-large table. However, on the day of the event, the club that arrived at that table, the Confectionery Society, didn’t need the gas stove at all. Why?

“It’s because the club that applied to use the gas stove wasn’t the Confectionery Club.”

“Which means...” Chitanda covered her mouth with her hands. “They stole the table?”

That carefree duo from the Confectionery Society did? No, that’s not it.

“What I’m saying is they switched tables, the Confectionery Society and whoever put in the request for that gas burner.

“This explains why they would look like they put in a request for the gas burner without actually needing it in the first place. Because they didn’t plan on having an extra-large table, they brought a pumpkin to fill up some space. It’s also why they don’t have a sign. They probably didn’t put their sign out in order to fool the General Committee who would have realized they were ignoring the table assignments.”

“B… but…”

Likely unable to believe it right away, Chitanda shook her head.

“If that were the case, that would mean the club originally assigned that table would be at a disadvantage. Why would they do that?”

Without directly answering her, I gestured to point out the large number of clubs tightly lined up next to each other throughout the gardens around us.

“Somewhere in this courtyard is a club that was originally supposed to use a gas stove but isn’t.”

“You know you don’t really have to beat around the bush,” interrupted Ōhinata from the side. “If you’re talking about a club that uses fire, there shouldn’t be too many of them no matter how you look at it.”

O sweet, naïve first-year. You underestimate the sheer number and variety of clubs in Kamiyama High School. I don’t know what rock you’ve been living under, but one small mistake and Classics Club might have been forced to serve a tempura lunch and pork soup, that’s the kind of school this was.

Though, saying that, I was certainly wrung dry during the occasion.

Chitanda started to whisper.

“Oh, that’s right. How could I have forgotten?”

Chitanda had also watched the orientations in the gym. Her memory was far superior to mine, so it wasn’t strange that she had remembered.

“The Cooking Society, wasn’t it? Didn’t they say they were going to treat everyone to a mountain-herb cuisine demonstration at their table during the New Recruit Festival?”

I nodded.

I wondered if the Cooking Society was handing out their food to the new students. No, they weren’t. Even now they were telling the students to come to the clubroom if they wanted to try some food.

“I wonder if the ingredients didn’t arrive on time.”

“The herbs? If they were so strapped as to warrant giving their extra-large table to the Confectionery Society, they could have just lied and cooked up some fake dish instead.”

“A fake dish... Couldn’t you at least say they could use the ingredients available to them to make something else?”

“They could use the ingredients available to them to make something else.”

Chitanda glared at me. I only said it because she asked me to…

“It wasn’t that. It was a much bigger slip-up. Something happened that rendered them unable to hand out the food to the new students.”

“Maybe they didn’t get rid of the bitter herb taste. No one would want to eat it if that were the case.”

“That’s the same thing. All they would need to do is start over with the remaining ingredients and they’d be fine. Something much more serious would have had to happen for them to be willing to give up the extra-large table like that. With that table, they’d be able to line up all of their cooking utensils and still have a bunch of space, just like the Confectionery Society is enjoying right now.

“The fact that the Cooking Society switched tables with the Confectionery Society and had to keep it a secret means that they must have made a mistake that they couldn’t report. They had such a bad problem that they couldn’t even have anyone wondering why they had an extra-large table with a gas stove but they weren’t using it to make any food. I’m willing to bet on it; the Cooking Society won’t have their name displayed anywhere.”

Just like Ōhinata had said, those who didn’t have nametags were shady.

At some point, my voice had become soft. Perhaps because it was hard to hear me amidst all the hustle and bustle, Chitanda had brought her face close to mine. Incidentally, Ōhinata had also bent over and brought her tanned face closer. She was the first to whisper her question.

“Does that kind of mistake even exist? No offense, but what’s the worst that a club could do with their cooking? No matter how much they mess up, what kind of mistake could force them to keep quiet about it?”

If she thought that was really the case, then she really was truly naïve.

“It’s related to food handling. Even a shop would be forced to temporarily shut down if they made this mistake.”

“Wait, do you mean…”

I nodded, and softened my voice even more.

”It's food poisoning.”

<noinclude>
==== Translator's Notes and References ====
<references/>

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