In short, these gentle, flowing moments of daily life are the groundwork for some future time.

After school.

Because he had to stay behind for cleaning duty, by the time Tsukihi Jinguuji arrived at the student council room, the other three members were already there.

As usual, Hoshino Morihoshino was busy processing various club application forms, while Kanade Yamada was hunched over a laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard. Out of curiosity, Tsukihi Jinguuji glanced at the screen, but quickly lost interest at the sight of all those dense numbers, inwardly sighing at how arduous accounting must be.

As for Yo Himemiya, she was lazily sprawled on the sofa, head tilted back, the nape of her neck resting on the cushion, her expression utterly vacant as if she’d emptied her mind completely.

Tsukihi Jinguuji instinctively glanced at her feet.

Yes, she was wearing indoor slippers.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked as he walked over.

“Ah... Hello, Mr. Sexual Harassment,” she replied.

Without hesitation, Tsukihi Jinguuji gave her a light smack, but to his surprise, the girl nimbly rolled aside, evading his attack.

He was left momentarily speechless.

“All right, now that everyone’s here, let’s put our work aside for a bit and have a meeting,” Hoshino Morihoshino announced.

The four of them gathered on the sofa, and Hoshino Morihoshino distributed documents to the others.

“These are the information sheets for the upcoming sports festival at the end of the month. The festival is mainly organized by the school, so our student council only needs to assist and handle post-event clean-up.

“That includes things like registering lost items. Events of this scale generate plenty of lost property every year, and the student council is responsible for carefully documenting each one.

“Also, and this is something the principal just instructed—I only found out recently—starting next week, two student council members will take turns each week, standing by the school gate in the morning to check students’ attire.

“No need for me to elaborate; this has long been a student council tradition.”

“Ehhh—” Yo Himemiya immediately wailed.

“How come I didn’t know about this tradition?”

“It was like this in the first term,” Hoshino Morihoshino replied helplessly. “This term, it was only Yamada and me in the student council, so things got delayed.”

“But that means I’ll get even less sleep,” Yo Himemiya groaned, turning to Tsukihi Jinguuji for help. “Senpai! Can you allow this? This is outright deception! Senpai’s innocence is being toyed with by the president!”

The boy ignored her attempts to sow discord, and calmly said, “You joined the student council—surely you expected things like this. Aren’t you supposed to be clever?”

“I...” Yo Himemiya struggled to respond, but couldn’t get a word out. In the end, she thumped the boy beside her in frustration.

“Traitor, Senpai! You traitor!”

Tsukihi Jinguuji was stunned—he very much wanted to pinch her cheeks and ask where she found the nerve to call anyone a traitor.

In any case, it was settled: starting next Monday, Tsukihi Jinguuji would have to stand guard with Yo Himemiya in front of the school every morning, inspecting students’ appearance.

This also meant that his identity as a student council member would finally be revealed to the whole school.

To be honest, it wasn’t exactly good news.

But it was something he’d long anticipated, and there was no point backing out now.

After the meeting, Yo Himemiya was sent by Hoshino Morihoshino to visit other clubs and discuss plans for the cultural festival.

Though Yo Himemiya sometimes seemed a bit off, she was undeniably sociable and possessed a face that charmed almost everyone. Even Tsukihi Jinguuji had to admit her face was one that practically invited teasing, and so he would often find himself playing tricks on her, gradually being drawn into her circle of acquaintances.

That, perhaps, was Yo Himemiya’s special talent.

Kanade Yamada, meanwhile, had to negotiate with other clubs about their accounts, and Tsukihi Jinguuji worried a little—he was so thin and frail that the more athletic clubs might bully him.

Once the two had left, Tsukihi Jinguuji asked, “So, what should I do?”

“Well, since you’re here, how about giving me a shoulder massage? I’ve been so tired lately,” Hoshino Morihoshino teased.

Tsukihi Jinguuji just stood there, unmoving and silent.

“Oh, come on, I was joking. Don’t look at me like that.”

She slid half the mountain of documents over to him. “Most of these are funding applications from the various clubs—amounts, reasons, potential benefits for the clubs, whether the expenses are necessary, how they’ll be used, and how to ensure the money is well spent. Each application needs to be judged with care.”

“You mean I’m to decide whether to approve them?”

Hoshino Morihoshino rested her chin on her hands and smiled at him. “Can’t handle it?”

Without a word, Tsukihi Jinguuji picked up the documents and went over to the desk to work.

All in all, Tsukihi Jinguuji was a pragmatic person. He never hoped for miracles, nor did he believe hard work was pointless—principles instilled in him since childhood.

Though, it was true that in junior high, he’d once been struck by a miracle, gaining with ease an ability far beyond ordinary people.

Even so, Tsukihi Jinguuji still believed effort was important.

If you want something, you have to pay an equivalent price. Lessons that come without pain are meaningless.

Tsukihi Jinguuji had gained advantages, but he had paid a price as well. In the end, it felt like a fair exchange.

Slowly immersing himself in the work, the boy began to tune out the world, focusing intently on the words written on each page.

He did wonder, though, why the soccer club needed bats, or why the science club needed an IBM 5000 and a microwave.

He tried to imagine whether these things were truly necessary, and then, one by one, stamped a large “X” on the applications.

So far, the only reasonable request he’d seen was the light music club’s for castanets.

He stamped “Approved” on that one.

Beside him, Hoshino Morihoshino brought him a cup of freshly brewed tea, opened her mouth as if to say something, but fell silent and returned to her seat.

...

...

“Tsukihi Jinguuji, Tsukihi Jinguuji,” the girl called several times, finally patting him on the shoulder. He gradually returned to awareness.

The golden sunlight streaming through the window was dazzling, and he squinted against the glare.

“Thank you for your hard work,” Hoshino Morihoshino said.

He glanced at the old pendulum clock on the wall.

“It’s closing time—Himemiya and Yamada have already gone home.”

“I see.”

Tsukihi Jinguuji exhaled, glanced at the small pile of documents still left, and realized that until now, Hoshino Morihoshino had managed all this alone. He couldn’t help but feel a bit of admiration.

“Let’s leave the rest for tomorrow. It’s about time to go home. I think all the other students have already left—the two of us are the only ones left.”

They locked up together, returned the keys to the staff room, and when they stepped outside the school gates, Hoshino Morihoshino suddenly stopped, turned to him, and said,

“Hey, if you don’t mind, Tsukihi Jinguuji, would you walk with me to the station?”