Chapter 15 Age-Appropriate

Age-Appropriate

The next day, early in the morning.

I arrived at school at the time students would normally leave home for morning club practice.

“Good morning.”

After dropping off my things in the classroom, I headed straight for the staff room.

“Oh, good morning, Iori. You’re here early.”

“Good morning, Sensei. After everything yesterday, you must be exhausted, yet you’re already here so early.”

I couldn’t help but admire how much work teachers put in. Even after working overtime for more than two hours the day before, they still had to come in early. On top of that, students often spoke to them disrespectfully, and they didn’t even get paid for the extra hours. I couldn’t help but sympathize.

“No, no, I didn’t really do much yesterday.”

“That’s not true. I knew that if I went too far, you’d stop me, Sensei. That’s why I was able to speak my mind without holding back.”

That’s what I said, but it wasn’t exactly something to be proud of. Besides, whether Sensei was there or not, I had already intended to keep my words in check. In other words, I was just flattering him.

“Then I’m glad. Well, I know I shouldn’t say this, but… it was really satisfying. I’m glad you were there.”

Thinking he really shouldn’t have said that, I just gave him a wry smile without replying.

“More importantly, what brings you here so early today?”

“Ah, Sensei, may I borrow a computer?”

“A computer?”

I rummaged through my bag and handed him a USB drive.

“It’s a summary of the results from yesterday’s application. I’d like to report it to the class during short homeroom.”

Sensei looked at me with wide eyes, hesitating to take the USB.

“…You already put this together, even though it was just yesterday?”

“It only took about thirty minutes.”

All I did was modify a document I had previously prepared for submitting applications to manufacturers and the ward office. I marked the parks where surveillance cameras had been approved with an O, those that hadn’t with an X, and added a note at the top stating that twelve out of twenty locations had received approval. It really wasn’t much work.

Of course, I had structured the document so it could be repurposed for future use.

“Still, you must’ve been exhausted after yesterday. I don’t know how you do it. Wouldn’t a verbal explanation have been enough?”

“No way—”

I pursed my lips.

“Everyone put so much time and effort into this project. It’s thanks to their hard work that we got these results. Don’t you think they deserve to hear the outcome as soon as possible?”

“…You’d make a better teacher than me.”

What is this guy even saying?

Narrowing my eyes, I simply extended my hand again, urging him to print the document. Finally, Sugo-sensei took the USB and sent the files to print copies for the class and himself.

“Can you grab them from the printer and bring them to the classroom?”

“Got it. I’ll leave them on your desk.”

Leaving Sugo-sensei behind, I stationed myself in front of the humming printer. I watched as it rhythmically churned out pages, then gathered the heavy stack with a thud and left the staff room.

…There was a reason I wanted to share yesterday’s results with everyone as soon as possible.

The longer I hesitated, the more unrealistic expectations would build up, making things more difficult in the long run.

What if someone had personally campaigned for a park, only to find out it didn’t get approved for a camera?

Or what if they had assumed every park would get one, only to discover that barely half had?

I could already imagine the complaints. While I couldn’t completely stop them, the best way to soften the blow was to present the facts quickly—before people had time to dwell on their assumptions.

Time erodes everything. It makes people forget… but sometimes, it does the opposite.

As the one delivering the report, it was my responsibility to share the results promptly, no matter what they were.

That said, I had no way of knowing how everyone would react. But to be honest, I thought this outcome was almost too good. In fact, if I were being completely honest… I didn’t really care what results came from yesterday’s meeting at the ward office.

In other words, I wasn’t particularly invested in whether surveillance cameras were installed in the parks or not.

Under Tachibana-san’s leadership, we had conducted investigations, coordinated with manufacturers, and submitted our application to the ward office.

But in the end, all we could do was submit the request—we had no power to actually install the cameras. That was the ward office’s decision. We could only provide supporting evidence; we had no authority over the final outcome.

Trying to control something beyond our reach was impossible. And regardless of the results—even if zero out of twenty parks had been approved—I believed I could frame it in a way that would satisfy our classmates.

That’s why, for me, this extracurricular activity project… had already ended before we even stepped into the ward office.

Investigating parks without surveillance cameras.

Getting manufacturers on board—people who could explain the types of cameras, costs, and the logistical challenges of installation.

And finally, bringing those manufacturers face-to-face with the decision-makers responsible for approving the installations.

These three things were the real objectives of our project.

Those tasks had all been completed without a hitch.

That’s why, the day before last, I told Tachibana-san it would be fine—I had full confidence in that fact.

“I’ll be there.”

However, I never told Tachibana-san that the objectives of our extracurricular activities had already been met the day before yesterday.

I was fairly certain I could cover for her if she made a mistake. But I also knew that wouldn’t ease her anxieties at their core.

“So you’re saying the safety of children playing in the park doesn’t matter?”

Even so, I chose to stay silent… because I didn’t want to dampen the resolve of someone who was wholeheartedly fighting to install surveillance cameras for her younger sister’s sake.

“Huh? Your parents aren’t the ones looking after her, but you, the older sister? Sounds like a messed-up family.”

…If I had discouraged her beforehand, maybe she wouldn’t have had to hear those words from that damn official… and maybe she wouldn’t have been hurt in the end.

I know that.

But this is just hindsight. There’s no point dwelling on it now.

I let out a deep sigh.

“What are you sighing about?”

My heart nearly jumped out of my chest.

Standing in the hallway in front of the classroom—somehow, without me noticing—Tachibana-san had appeared behind me.

“Good morning. You’re here early.”

“…If I come late, I’ll probably get molested again.”

“Ah… yeah… That’s a wise decision.”

As I paused to wait for her, she shot me a glare before striding ahead.

“It’s not a good thing. It just means I get less sleep.”

She spoke in a clearly displeased tone.

“Well, well, it’s just three years. You can endure it.”

“You mean a whole three years.”

When you’re thirty-five, a year passes in the blink of an eye. Three years can feel like they’re gone before you know it. But thinking back… for a fifteen-year-old, three years ago meant middle school.

“…So. What are you holding?”

“Oh.”

I lifted the stack of papers slightly.

“Yesterday’s results.”

“…You made another one?”

“Yeah. I wanted everyone to know the results as soon as possible.”

“…I see.”

As I followed after her, Tachibana-san suddenly stopped walking.

When I turned back, I saw her rubbing her left elbow with her right hand, fidgeting, unable to meet my gaze.

“…Thanks.”

She mumbled, her lips slightly pursed.

“…For what?”

Not sure what she was thanking me for, I tilted my head in confusion. In an instant, her face turned bright red.

“Idiot, idiot, idiot! Figure it out!”

Tachibana-san, more flustered than I’d ever seen her before, snapped at me.

“E-Even if you call me an idiot…”

If I don’t understand, I don’t understand. What else can I do?

“That’s why… Ugh, never mind. I wasn’t trying to get mad at you.”

“Oh? Then that’s good.”

“…I’ll make it up to you next time.”

“Huh?”

“A thank-you! …Let me do something for you.”

I was about to say there was no need, but seeing her so unusually bashful, I lost the will to protest.

“O-Okay.”

The moment I said that, her face lit up instantly, and she smiled—a genuine, unguarded smile.

The quiet girl she was at school.

The doting older sister she was at home.

Thinking about it… this might have been the first time I’d ever seen her smile like a girl her age. Before I knew it, I found myself unable to look away.