“Welcome, everyone. It’s good to see you all.” Shion smiled gently, looking around. “We know a lot of you have clubs around this time, or else your own free time, so we’re glad you’re committed enough to sacrifice that time to work on this.”
“That said, it’s also what we expect of you,” Eida warned. “You’d better be here at this time every time we have a meeting. Remember, Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays! We don’t have a lot of time to learn the whole thing. But if you’re here, you’ve made a commitment to see it through. I’ll enforce it.”
Momomi smirked. “Good cop, bad cop, is it?”
“How stereotypical…” Kaname muttered.
Amane just stood close by, looking up at the stage with complete indifference. Momomi glanced at her in amusement for a second, then returned her attention to Shion.
“In any case, the first thing is to familiarise yourselves with the script,” Shion explained. “This isn’t something you can ad lib, after all. Hirai-san, could you?”
“Y-yes…” Hirai stammered. “Eh, basically, we’re dividing the cast into two, the main plot and the comedy… well, you all know who you are. After that, you’ll be put into small groups based on what part of the play you’re involved in, and you’ll practise your lines in those groups… we’ll move between you and make sure everything’s okay, and help if you need it… that’s all. Is that okay?”
Even Momomi found herself nodding. There’s something about Hirai that protects her from even the coldest person. But really, insulting someone this shy and fragile would just be in bad taste.
Kaname snorted quietly behind her, folding her arms impatiently.
Though some people are less kind than others are, I suppose.
“Thank you, Hirai-chan.” Eida glanced at them all. “So that’s the program. After about a week of this, we’ll get on with proper rehearsals. The groups, Hirai?”
“Eh… yes…” Hirai raised a clipboard, nervously looking down at it. “Well, Viola, that’s Ohtori-san, Valentine, Araki-san, and Orsino, who is Kanda-san, are one group. You’re working on the early scenes. Olivia, Kiyashiki-san, Maria, Murai-san, Fool, Nagasawa-san and Malvolio, Koike-san, on the first half of Act 1 scene 5. Sebastian, Kenjou-san, and Antonio, Nagai-san, on the early part of Act 2 scene 1. Toby is Tou-san and Andrew Uemura-san, who will be working on Act 2 scene 3. Uh… that’s all for now. The rest will be with Eida-san, okay?”
“Trust Shion and her associates to overcomplicate things?” Kaname complained. “Can’t we just start and go through the whole play, without any of this annoying differentiation?”
“Well, I’m sure it will be good for you,” Momomi replied. “Just bear with it, okay?”
“Fine…”
Eventually, after the usual confusion that accompanied these events, Momomi found herself sitting in a circle with several other girls they barely knew. Shion stood over her shoulders, an angel shaking a dainty finger in warning. “Now, be good, especially you, Kiyashiki-san. It’s in your hands, Nagasawa-san. I’m counting on you.”
“It’s not a problem,” the third-year replied easily. “But why her in particular?”
“She’ll say malicious and strictly untrue things at the drop of a hat,” Shion replied. “It’s very hurtful. But she’s mostly reasonable.”
“I see…”
“Well, good luck, everyone.” Shion waved slightly, then walked towards another group.
“Well, here we are,” Nagasawa remarked. “I guess it’s best if we introduce ourselves first. I’m Terue, Terue Nagasawa, third year. I’m one of Eida’s friends. I like acting and poetry and I hate swimming. That’s all. It’s good to meet you all.”
“I’m Etsu Murai! First year! I like flowers, dresses and baseball! I hate lessons and homework.” Murai smiled. “That’s all! Something like that, right?”
Nagasawa nodded. “That’s right. Thank you.” She glanced at the other second year. “And you?”
Koike leaned back, yawning slightly. “Hmm? Asayo Koike. What I like or dislike’s irrelevant, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so, but it’s nice, isn’t it?” Nagasawa pointed out patiently.
“Tch… fine. Well, I like kyudo. I dislike bullies and people who are too loud.” Koike shrugged languidly. “Like that has anything to do with drama.”
What can I say? I can see why she was chosen to play Malvolio…though I suspect Kaname’s answers sound exactly the same.
“And you don’t need much introduction, Momomi Kiyashiki.” Nagasawa glanced at her, eyes amused. “You used to be a troublemaker, I haven’t forgotten that. You just came from washing the Church as a punishment for fighting, for example.”
“My,” Momomi replied evenly. “You’re surprisingly well-informed.”
“Tomori-san’s told me a little about you as well, of course. You’re a good actor, by all accounts.”
Momomi met her eyes. Just how good a friend are you to Shion? And just what kind of acting are we talking about, I wonder? “Of course,” she replied. “It’s to be expected of a Phareli.”
Nagasawa smirked, looking cynical. “I see. In any case, you should introduce yourself. I’ve rather stolen your thunder.”
“Kiyashiki Momomi, though my father’s name and family is the Phareli of Italy.” Momomi smiled. “I like artistic things and flowers as well, but I dislike bigots and uninformed idiots of all kinds. I’m looking forwards to working with you all.”
“You come from Italy?” Murai asked, looking impressed. “Are you a foreigner?”
“Of course,” Koike replied. “Didn’t you notice? The hair’s a give-away in itself… everyone knows.”
“Really?”
“The foreign transfer student with that Kenjou… right?” Keiko smiled. “An interesting person.”
“And you’d be Koike, as in the Kochi Koike, no?” Momomi smiled back, eyes lingering on the other girl. “I thought the name was familiar. My mother told me all about you.”
“Ah. We’re honoured, to have come to the attention to the great Phareli,” Keiko mocked. “Though why a Phareli should be here, not there, and under this name-”
“That’s enough, isn’t it?” Nagasawa said, sighing. “Isn’t that stuff just tedious?”
Says the only daughter of the Iwate Nagasawa family, of course…Momomi nodded. “In any case, I’m half-Italian half-Japanese. But to be honest, I prefer it here. That’s why I’m here.”
“Wow,” Murai said. “Aren’t you a long way from home, then?”
“In practical terms, not much further than you are, right?” Momomi pointed out. “We’re all boarding school students here, after all.”
“Yes. But in any case, we’ve wandered pretty far off topic,” Nagasawa noted. “We should begin. You all have your scripts, right?”
“Sure.” Koike finally condescended to sit normally and pull out her script. “Let’s get started, then.”
“And you wrote this, didn’t you, Kiyashiki-san?” Murai noted. “Amazing.”
“Well, I hardly wrote it, just translated it, that’s all,” Momomi replied, with a mostly insincere modesty. “And I was helped by Perez-san as well.”
“Be that as it may,” Nagasawa said firmly. “We have to begin.”
To Momomi’s intense surprise, they actually worked quite well together. Nagasawa was fairly decent at motivating them and Murai was ridiculously enthusiastic to begin with. More than that, she could take criticism in her stride, which was a relief. Koike basically leaned back and read her lines in a bored drawl, but as her part called for a bored drawl for much of the early part of the play, that worked out just fine. Momomi just wondered what she’d do when they reached the madness scenes. Presumably Koike would actually have to expend some energy at some point. Shion turned up at one point, providing them with some further direction. After half an hour, an extremely nervous Hirai stopped them. “Okay, now we’re changing the groups around a little… Kiyashiki-san and Koike-san, go and work with Ohtori-san. Kenjou-san, with Kanda-san, if you please. Tou-san and Uemura-san, please join Nagasawa’s group. Is that fine?”
“That’s fine,” Eida replied decisively, looking around at them with a glare that accepted no protest at all. “Get to it.”
“Well, I’ll see you guys later,” Momomi remarked, standing and sticking her script under her arm. “It’s been fun.”
Koike sighed, shaking her head. “The duties of a lead… I hope you enjoyed that, Murai-san, because you won’t see her for a while. I get the best of both worlds.”
“Oh, don’t be so gloomy,” Momomi replied. “I’m sure you’ll get on just fine without me, anyway. And you have a tough role, Koike-san. Don’t let madden you, it’d upset me if you came to hate my script.”
Koike chuckled. “Very droll… I’ll try my best. I have my dignity, after all. Though your script-writing will strip it from me, no doubt.” She smiled in an angular manner, standing herself. “Well, if you can spare any time, I’d be interested to talk to the Phareli child.”
“Oh? You’ve never bothered before…”
“The Phareli that attended the school before now wasn’t even worth knowing,” Koike replied bluntly. “Right?”
“That’s mean, Asayo-chan,” Murai complained. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”
“Exactly. It isn’t acceptable.”
“No, it’s fine,” Momomi replied amicably.
Nagasawa scowled. “But-”
“Well, she’s right, after all.” Momomi waved briefly. “Later.”
“See you, Momo-chan!”
“Good luck.” Nagasawa sighed. “Under these conditions, you’ll need it.”
“Later,” Koike said absently, following Momomi.
Momomi sighed as she walked away. Two old-school land-owning aristocrats and one daughter of an obnoxiously rich industrialist. Only at Astraea would you find such things…and now I’m going to talk to the second cousin to a family of old-school land-owning aristocrats turned corporate imperialists. This probably does make sense, it just feels strange, that’s all. She tapped her forehead thoughtfully. The Phareli child? It’s a long time since I’ve been called anything like that… the downside of being noticed for the right reasons is that people will remember everything else about you, as well. I doubt Koike takes me seriously for that, though. No, I’m something amusing to her. Well, she can think what she likes, really. It’s not important. I wonder, when did I stop believing in concepts like that? The family that’s so important to people to Koike. Probably with my father, I suppose. The things he did in the name of the family aren’t anything I’ll ever forgive him for. And it’s only natural I should detest the same institution he’s dedicated his life to myself. Is that just a normal child’s rebellion? Momomi scowled. Koike was simply walking alongside her in silence. Albeit an amused silence, with a knowing kind of expression. Though my father also rebelled against the family by marrying Yukaho. I just hope I don’t end up like him, however I look at it. Well, Luigia shouldn’t die, so it won’t ever be an issue. But still, that’s another strange thought, if I remember that even my orthodox father resisted… and for what? That broken marriage? It doesn’t even make sense…
“You’re looking very philosophical.”
“Amane-san…” Momomi looked up, smiling. “Not really. I just met someone who made me think about something, that’s all. Well, I shouldn’t say met, she’s in our year, but it’s the first time I’ve really talked to her.”
“Ah.”
Momomi sat next to the blue-haired girl, placing her ruffled script on her lap. “But there’s really a lot of people like us here, isn’t there?”
“People like us?”
“The upper class. To put it bluntly.”
“Ah… that’s right.” Amane shrugged. “It’s something I’m aware of. My family expects me to know everyone important that attends this school. That’s irrelevant, though.”
“My mother put me through something similar. She enjoyed it. It’s like… horse breeding, I guess.” Momomi giggled. “Only the trading, haggling and breeding is between families and the horses are young people. The things that will happen to us when we grow up, if they have their way.”
“That’s true.” Amane sighed. “Humans are harder to break and train, though.” She was silent for a moment. “This is probably a good thing.”
Momomi laughed. “Probably, yes. Just as long as your parents don’t take to you with whips and spurs, that’s fine.”
“You two get on surprisingly well,” Koike observed, sitting down herself. “But you do have common ground, of course. As strange as that is for me to say.”
“Koike,” Amane observed.
“So, what’s your take on this?” Momomi asked politely. “As you say, we have common ground… as strange as that is for me to say.”
“Huh.” Koike slumped backwards again, closing her eyes. “Well, I’ve got no strong opinions. Father says I can marry a rabbit if I get off on that, just so long as I can handle money.”
“Really?” Momomi sighed, shaking her head slightly. “That’s remarkably… causal…”
“We’re not the Phareli or the Ohtori, with sticks up our backsides about the strangest things,” Koike smirked. “That also means I can be myself without being a drop-out, which is nice.”
“Is that so?” Momomi asked quietly.
“Ah. How is your mother?”
Koike’s jaw twitched. “She’s fine, thank you for asking. And your sister, Ohtori-san?”
“She’s doing well,” Amane replied flatly. “I’ll be seeing her again at Christmas, which will be very refreshing. We’re holding a ball. Do you think your family will be able to attend? It will be quite the event, of course…”
“We’ll be having a quiet Christmas.” Koike glared. “But you’re being pretty low. I should expect that from an Ohtori, I suppose.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just asking an innocent question. Rather like your own comments were innocent observations…”
“Oh, shut up. I agree with Nagasawa, this is just tedious. And I don’t even know what you’re talking about!”
“It looks like you’re a little less informed than me,” Amane replied, smiling. “That’s a good thing, though. My head hurts from everything I’ve had to learn.”
Koike glared. “In any case, it is an irrelevant conversation. We should get on with what we came here for. God knows I didn’t turn up to chat to you two.”
“Oh? Don’t you want to talk to me?”
“Talking and chatting are completely different.” Koike turned the pages in her script. “In any case, it’s getting boring. We should just get started already.”
Momomi glanced between her and Amane, then shrugged and looked down. “Right, just as I said before. We can start. The second half of Act 1 scene 5, isn’t it?”
“Ah.” Amane looked down. “We begin with your line, Koike-san.”
“Fine. Madam, yond young fellow…”
A few minutes later, Shion arrived, looking down at them. “Well, how are you getting on?”
“We’re good, thank you,” Momomi replied politely.
“We’d have been better if you hadn’t interrupted us,” Koike added sharply.
“You know, you really remind me of Kaname,” Momomi observed.
“Oh, god. Don’t you dare compare me to her.”
“She has a point, actually,” Shion observed, putting a hand on her hip. “A very definite point. That sarcasm was very like her.”
“I’m sure Kenjou has a monopoly on sarcasm, of course” Koike closed her eyes, sounding bored. “See what I did there?”
“Very droll,” Momomi imitated.
“Well, humour aside, is everyone okay with their parts?” Shion asked. “If anyone has any problems, it’s best to say so now. That way we can make any necessary changes early in the process.”
“It’s all fine to me,” Momomi replied. “But I suppose it would be, under the circumstances.”
“Ah. It’s fine, I think.”
“Do you really think so?” Koike asked.
“Oh?” Shion smiled. “Is there a problem, Koike-san?”
“There’s room for improvement.” Koike shrugged languidly. “Personally, I disagree with the archaic language. That’s irrelevant, though. My punning lines too literal. They should be rewritten to give the meaning. If that’s true of the Fool’s lines as well, there’s a problem. Aside from that, word choices here and there… I could write a list, if you like.”
“So you could do better, could you?” Momomi demanded, incensed.
“Probably,” Koike replied evenly. “But you’d have to pay me before I bothered to do something so dreary.”
“We’ll bear your advice in mind, Koike-san. Thank you. Was there anything else?”
“Not particularly.”
“Then that’s fine. Everyone getting on okay?”
“Ah,” Amane replied evenly.
Momomi just nodded stiffly, while Koike didn’t even bother to reply. I’d forgotten, of course. Along with nice, simple fangirls and decent people like Amane-san, you’ll occasionally get the more troublesome kind. People like me, really. But she didn’t say as much out loud. That would be a victory to Koike, after all.
Shion pulled up a chair and sat down. “And everything’s fine with the reading, too?”
“Room for improvement,” Koike replied dryly.
“On her part, too,” Momomi noted. “But things are going pretty well, all in all. It’s fine.”
Amane nodded. “There haven’t been any significant problems. Though this is the first time I’ve taken part in a play proper, so my performance may not be as good as it should be.”
Momomi rolled her eyes. “Believe me, you won’t have a problem with that.”
Koike snorted. “Quite.”
“That’s good. Can you show me, then?” Shion asked.
“Right now?” Momomi shifted, blinking. “That’s very abrupt…”
“Yes, right now. For preference.”
“That’s very abrupt.” Momomi sighed. “Fine. Koike-”
“I know. You don’t have to tell me, already.”
Shion sat through their performance, nodding slightly and smiling. She clapped her hands once they’d finished. “That’s very good, actually. I’ll probably have you perform that to the others after our break, okay?”
“Say what?” Momomi demanded. “Now you tell us that…”
“We’re not performing to many people, are we?” Koike asked. “If you can’t deal with this kind of audience…”
“It’s fine, obviously,” Momomi retorted. “I just like to be well-prepared, after all. But considering I received this role, I’m good enough to be worthy of it.”
“Or you have useful friends.”
“That’s a ridiculous allegation.”
“Oh?”
Shion sighed. “Well, my advice was purely advisory, in point of fact.”
“Who said anything about you?” Koike asked, smiling maliciously.
“Oh, no one. But I just thought I’d mention that the casting was the exclusive decision of Eida-san,” Shion continued. “Who selected it based on merit alone. That’s all.”
Koike snorted. “If you say so… it’s a convenient excuse, after all.”
Momomi glared at her, feeling her already dwindling patience fraying further. “Aren’t you the one finding a convenient excuse here?”
“Shall we carry on?” Amane asked dully.
Their remaining practise time was spent in a distinctly negative ambience. Momomi was glaring past Amane at a pointedly indifferent Koike as she read her lines for the fifth time. “Are you a comedian?”
Eida clapped her hands loudly, gaining their attention. “Fine, that’s enough.”
The noise receded, everyone looking up at the stage.
“Now, you’ve worked hard, so we’ll have a break for ten minutes and then twenty minutes for performances from the different groups…” Eida glared. “For the break, we do intend this to be a partly social activity, forging links across years.” She sounded like she had no such intention. “So use this time to talk over various aspects of the play and get to know each other. We’ll be available to talk to if need be. That’s all.”
Koike stood and walked off without a word.
Momomi snorted, watching her go. “She has a bloody annoying attitude, doesn’t she?”
“Ah.” Amane shrugged. “If you say so.”
“Don’t you think so?”
“Not particularly.”
Momomi scowled. “Well, I mean, she’s as prickly as hell, and she always finds fault in everything, and she’s being deliberately antagonistic as well. Why did she even come here?”
Amane closed her eyes. “Who knows? Does it matter?”
“It does if we’ll be working with her for weeks at the time!”
“Provided you both read your lines, that’s all you need to do.” Amane glanced at her. “Am I wrong?”
“Well, you’re right, but there’s such a thing as atmosphere…” Momomi sighed. “Besides, it sounded like she was annoying you earlier.”
“She was saying unnecessary things, so I said an unnecessary thing. I wasn’t annoyed as such.”
“Really? Well, you sounded annoyed to me. And you sound like you know her family quite well, too.”
“Ah. I do. We’ve met several times before.”
Momomi smiled wanly. “This is what I was talking about in the first place, though. Only in a school like this would you find so many people like us…”
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Kaname remarked, looking down at them. Her tone suggested that she was thinking anything but that.
“Not at all,” Momomi said, standing and smiling. “It’s good to see you. How are you getting on?”
“I’m doing fine,” Kaname replied, sitting where Koike had been a few seconds ago. “It’s going very well, thank you.” Her eyes narrowed slightly.
Amane’s nonchalance became more calculated. “Kenjou…”
“Ohtori.” Kaname glared at her. “Are you doing well?”
“Yes.”
“I see.” She leaned forwards slightly. “A little surprising, actually.”
“Oh?”
“For someone like you, who spends all your time playing around with horses, to be any good at this, is strange.”
“I’m surprised as well, but for you… considering you spent the last half-year in your room doing nothing in particular.”
“Considering you barely know me, you’re not qualified to make that statement. I always busied myself with various things. Most notably, revision for the scholarship exams, of course...”
“Of course.”
Momomi sat between them, raising her hands. “In any case, I was just saying to Amane-san that aristocrats are over-represented here. It creates a very strange environment.”
“For the most part, you’re all just as bad as any other kind of people,” Kaname noted. “But the attitudes can be especially annoying.”
“Do you think so?” Momomi asked, smiling weakly.
“Absolutely. None of you take much very seriously and have too much free time, busying yourself with trivial pastimes like this… that’s a result of the demographic.” Kaname snorted. “But really, isn’t a large private school like this way too archaic?”
“Surely you lost your right to criticise it for that when you chose to come here?” Amane asked. “That would be logical.”
“Hardly. I can criticise Japan even though I live here. It’s an imperfect system. But for my part, I’d have all entry selection-based.”
“Isn’t that equally elitist?”
“Oh, really?” Kaname challenged.
Amane closed her eyes for a moment. “Intelligence, not wealth, would become predominant… but I suppose such a system wouldn’t do you any harm, of course.”
“So?”
“So? It’s hypocritical for you to advocate this kind of segregation but not the other.”
“There’s no hypocrisy, they’re completely different. And that’s how it should be. For those who have the intelligence and the will to progress beyond their birth, there should always be opportunities like this. It’s a lot better than pretending that state-funded education can do everything.” Kaname glared. “And a thousand times more logical than private school education, which merely cements inequality rather than changing it.”
“On practical terms, this school requires its private status to function. That much is obvious.” Amane shrugged. “But on purely theoretical terms, too, you take a very simplistic view of the world. As I said before, intelligence is another kind of inequality.”
“It’s one that can genuinely be overcome by hard work, in part,” Kaname retorted. “But pushing on a closed door is useless in terms of social status. For the rest, at least it’s a genuine natural difference.”
“It’s still selecting a very small group, seemingly at random, in order to promote their interests over anyone else,” Amane replied. “It would still facilitate the propagation of an elite, would it not?”
“Well, what do you suggest?” Kaname asked. “Are we going to pretend that everyone’s equal now? Don’t make me laugh… some people have more potential than others do, and that’s a fact. Treating everyone as if they are identical is a ludicrous way of doing things.”
“There’s no need to treat everyone as equal. But still, schools should be as diverse as possible. Economically, perhaps, but in intelligence as well. With the elite segregated, it’s damaging for the other schools.”
“Hardly. They can concentrate on the people they need to deal with, and the most intelligent get proper treatment elsewhere. It’s mutually beneficial.”
“You may have noticed, but a few intelligent students can make a huge difference to a class. Take that core away and the learning experience is probably diminished. Of course, that’s all theoretical on my part.”
“Well, I’ve seen it. It’s a waste of time, they all drag each other down.”
“And does that make for a healthy school?” Amane folded her arms. “Here, at least, there is a diversity of ability and the recognition of different talents. You reduce everything to a simple concept and narrow the ability band. It’s as unreflective of real society as this school is now.”
“And is that a problem? Provided the economic backgrounds vary, there’s no point in worrying about anything else…”
“Say, Momo-chan, what are they talking about?”
Momomi jumped, looking around quickly. “Oh, it’s you, Murai-san.”
The first-year nodded. “They’re having quite a passionate argument. What is it about?”
“It’s about nothing,” Momomi replied, speaking more loudly than was strictly necessary. “I’ve no idea. No sooner had they sat down, but they’re arguing about something…”
“Do you have to talk about me as if I’m not here?” Kaname demanded, finally breaking away from their debate.
“You’re certainly talking as if I’m not there,” Momomi snapped. “But that’s fine, I lost interest in that conversation long ago.”
“That’s hardly our fault. It’s an important ideological debate.”
“It’s just an excuse to go on and on, which is unusual for both of you.” Momomi sighed. “Can’t we talk about the play or something?”
“The play?” Kaname asked. “That boring thing? Why can’t we talk about interesting things? I’ve been looking at that damn script for an hour, I don’t even want to think about it…”
“It’s not my fault you have a short attention span.” Momomi sighed deeply. “Honestly, sometimes I wonder how many people here turned up for the play itself.”
“I did,” Murai said enthusiastically. “It looked interesting.”
“Why are you here, anyway?” Kaname demanded, squinting at the younger girl.
“To see my interesting senpais talking,” Murai replied. “I wonder whether my friends will ever argue about such interesting things…”
Her smile looks a little too crafty to me. “Well, I wouldn’t call this interesting,” Momomi replied out loud. “It’s all so much bilge, anyway. So, how about the people? Made any new friends, Kaname?”
“Hardly.”
Momomi rolled her eyes. “A little more specifically than just that?”
“I can work with these people. But it’s not like I want to spend time with them.”
“You should be more polite,” Momomi chided. “It’s very important, you know. Starting tomorrow, I’m going to force you to socialise with the others.”
“And you with her for even longer?” Kaname demanded. She didn’t specify the her, because she didn’t need to.
“I’ll have plenty of people to talk to, as well.” Momomi folded her arms, catching Amane’s interested eyes. “That’s a conversation for later, though. How about you, Ohtori-san?”
Amane shrugged. “I’ve renewed acquaintances.”
Momomi nodded. “And you, Murai-san?”
“Hey,” Kaname interjected. “Why did I have to go to more detail but you let Amane get away with that? That doesn’t even make sense…”
“I’m used to her, it’s not important. In any case, Murai-san?”
“I met a lot of interesting people, such as all of you, Nagasawa-san and Koike-san…” Murai smiled enthusiastically. “It’s been fun. I hope I get to work with different people in future!”
“Great,” Kaname muttered, resting her head in her hands. “Insincere cuteness overload…”
“I see. Well, that’s good.”
There was a momentary silence. Kaname took that as a chance to resume her staring contest with Amane. For once, the other girl appeared to be paying attention. That’s strange. And in the debate earlier, as well, she took part. Normally she’d just completely ignore this kind of thing. Of course, that’s all the more reason to find a way to shut them both up…Momomi cast around for a topic of conversation, smiling weakly. “Uhm, Koike-san critiqued my script in some aspects. Do you agree that I was too literal in the translation of the puns and word games?”
Amane shrugged. “It’s fit for purpose. That’s all it needs to be.”
“Isn’t that a lazy attitude, though?” Kaname pointed out. “We’re supposed to be doing something amazing here, not merely decent enough to rub by. That’s why I’m here anyway. You might not be as ambitious, I suppose.”
Amane raised an eyebrow. “You think a lot of a mere lower-school play.”
“Whatever we do, it might as well be good.” Kaname snorted. “That should be obvious. What’s the point in doing anything else?”
Momomi sighed. Here we go again. “That’s all very interesting, but that doesn’t answer the question. What do you think, Murai-san?”
Murai shrugged. “I don’t know, really. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I only just got the script, after all.”
“Oh, right… I’d forgotten.” Momomi frowned. So how about Koike, then? That’s slightly odd.
“You can talk to Eida-san later about it. I’m sure she’ll have ideas.” Amane leaned back, but kept her eyes open, locked on Kaname.
“You’re right, I suppose.” Momomi’s gaze swept the room, finding the person she was looking for. To her surprise, Koike was alone, reading through the script. I had her marked as the popular type. Perhaps her friends are simply elsewhere, but if that’s the case, why did she come? “Say,” she began, cutting off the other two.
“Yes?” Kaname asked. “What is it?”
“That girl, Asayo Koike. What do you all know about her?”
Kaname shrugged. “In my class. A friend of Yuho’s, I think. At least they talk to each other a lot. A lazy smart-arse in lessons. Makes sarcastic comments. Very good at English.”
“What do you think of her?”
Kaname shrugged. “Who knows?” Her eyes narrowed, and she glanced sharply at Momomi. “Has she been bothering me?”
“No, not really,” Momomi lied. “I was just curious, when she was alone there.”
“Then are you planning to add her to your social club?” Kaname demanded. She didn’t look like she was particularly fooled.
“Even if you call it that, that’s what having friends is. But I don’t have a lot of time, no does Koike-san like me or need me. So it’s fine.” Momomi folded her arms. “Sometimes my innocent questions really are innocent, you know.”
“Yeah, right.”
“That’s a good point, though,” Murai noted. “I’ll go and talk to Koike-san. Good afternoon.”
Kaname snorted, watching her walk away. “What an obnoxiously good girl?”
“Is that so?” Momomi wondered, looking unconvinced.
“Shouldn’t you stop her?” Amane asked.
Momomi blinked. “Hmm?”
“Koike won’t be pleased.”
“Well, that’s not my business,” Momomi retorted happily. “It’s got nothing to do with me, after all.”
“I see.”
“Okay, break’s over!” Eida snapped. “Gather round!”
“Only twenty minutes left,” Kaname muttered, standing.
“Really? Oh, yeah…” Momomi frowned, rubbing her eyes briefly. So many new people means this has been more tiring than I could have anticipated. The script writing was easier.
“It’s not polite to say that out loud.” Amane walked towards the stage.
“Oh, really? Do you think I care?” Kaname followed her irritably. “I was telling the bloody time. No trauma inducing phrases there, though I could use a few…”
“It’s a matter of good manners.”
And these two in the same room is getting worse than ever before. Just my luck…
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