13. I’m just a scoundrel—why bother with sincerity? (Please keep reading!)
Seated by the window in the classroom, Tsukimi Jinguuji, now fully awake from his earlier drowsiness, gazed at the pale, withered clouds outside and let out a deep sigh.
That morning, Hoshinomori Hoshino had strode confidently into the school alongside him, engaging in a one-sidedly cheerful conversation.
(Note: Tsukimi Jinguuji could hardly muster a smile, and even felt the urge to escape at a brisk pace.)
He had never before thought the hill leading to school could seem so interminable; no matter where he walked, he could feel the piercing gazes of the students lining either side. Only Hoshinomori Hoshino seemed unaffected, as if she were speaking to the air itself, smiling serenely.
“Excuse me, President—may I go ahead?”
He accidentally added “President,” an honorific he’d never used before, but it wasn’t really his style.
“No worries! At this pace, we absolutely won’t be late, so rest assured, Jinguuji.”
“What I mean is, whether we’ll be late or not, I can’t say, but I seem to have attracted the attention of several burly club captains since just now.”
“Oh my, Jinguuji is volunteering to be my shield? How gallant~”
“After the semester started, so many people suddenly confessed to me, it’s been rather troubling. I suppose it’s because graduation is just a few months away, and everyone’s feeling a bit unsettled. How embarrassing.”
Was she always this kind of person?
Jinguuji wondered silently.
“What about you, Jinguuji?”
“What do you mean?”
“Aren’t you planning to have a sweet high school romance?”
“No such plans.”
“Oh? Or perhaps you’ve already dated someone?”
He glanced sideways, sensing something beneath her words.
“Indeed, I have.” he admitted with ease.
Hoshinomori Hoshino narrowed her eyes slightly, waiting for him to elaborate.
“With Ms. Aoyama—the whole school knows her, right? Sadly, her boyfriend found out.” He shook his head in mock regret, watching her reaction from the corner of his eye.
“I knew you’d say that.”
Jinguuji didn’t respond.
Yet, to his surprise, the girl beside him suddenly laughed softly.
From a distance, several boys revealed adoring expressions at her smile, and their looks toward Jinguuji burned all the more with frustrated intensity.
---
Hoshinomori Hoshino turned to him, beaming.
“You’re quite obvious when you lie, Jinguuji.”
“…”
“If you’re so bad at lying, why not just be genuine?”
“Genuine? Me?”
He smiled, hands in his pockets, loving no one.
He gazed up at the autumn sky, memories lingering only in the past, unable to find a future that belonged to him.
“I’m just a scoundrel—what use is sincerity?”
---
---
After reaching the school building, Jinguuji eagerly changed into his indoor shoes and dashed toward the second-year classroom.
“Hey, Jinguuji, no running in the hallways.”
He paid no attention.
“Otherwise, I’ll come find you after school.”
He slowed his steps, moving with such elegance it was as if he were heading to a ball.
Hoshinomori Hoshino wore a satisfied expression behind him.
Time returned to the present.
Now, the first period had ended. Jinguuji sighed again as he looked out at the clouds, picking up the drink box on his desk, only to realize it was one Sakurakouji Sazakura had already used.
He glanced toward the front, where Sakurakouji was chatting happily with her group of girls, occasionally sipping her new drink and laughing along with a cheerful “soudayo,” never once looking his way.
It seemed he wouldn’t get a chance to return it. Taking advantage of a bathroom break, he tossed the drink box into the classroom’s trash bin with a muffled thud.
Nearby boys glanced his way, saw it was Jinguuji, then resumed their idle conversation.
He waited until the preparatory bell rang before returning to his seat, silent.
Class resumed, then ended—two periods passed.
The incident of Student Council President Hoshinomori Hoshino and Jinguuji from Class 2-A arriving at school together swiftly spread through the school.
---
Jinguuji could sense the subtle shift in how his classmates looked at him.
During the first term, some had occasionally seen him and Hoshinomori Hoshino dining together at school. Certain boys comforted themselves with the notion that it was the “noble, selfless Student Council President persuading a delinquent upperclassman to reform”—a storyline moving enough for a comic, convincing themselves of it.
But walking to school together was a first; heaven knows what wild fantasies the minds of hormonally charged male students conjured.
Being stared at like this was unpleasant, but Jinguuji couldn’t change others’ opinions—at best, he could ignore them.
At lunchtime, Jinguuji bought bread and milk from the school shop and climbed alone to the rooftop of the new building, leaning against the wire fence, half-heartedly watching the foolish couples feeding each other below in the courtyard.
Compared to those youthfully exuberant boys and girls, Jinguuji, handsome but detached, seemed the furthest from youth.
The reason he now ate the school shop’s 120-yen bread on the rooftop could be traced back to the morning’s incident with the Student Council President.
Staying in the classroom was clearly unwise; high schoolers lacked empathy, believing that lowering their voices turned gossip into secret messages—freely discussing him right in front of him.
Hearing such talk, the already mediocre bread might as well be downgraded to a 75-yen standard.
That would be a shame—he disliked wasting food.
Crash!!
Suddenly, the rooftop door banged open, metal groaning, followed by the rough voices of several boys.
Jinguuji’s spot was a blind corner; no one noticed him.
Ah, how annoying—he couldn’t even enjoy a moment’s peace alone. Now the bread tasted like it was worth only 20 yen.
How would they compensate him for his lost 100 yen?
He wolfed down the bread, drained the milk, and squeezed the empty carton.
He stepped quietly, ready to slip away.
Inadvertently, he locked eyes with a boy being jostled by the group.
So be it. Jinguuji left the rooftop without a word.
The staff room was on the first floor, below the third-year classrooms.
Jinguuji hurried down, skipping steps, and slid open the door of a third-year classroom. The students inside were instantly drawn to the sudden appearance of the boy.
“Excuse me, is Hoshinomori Senpai here?”
“Could you come out for a moment? It’s rather urgent.”