novelWe are the Newspaper Club (2)
| ← Ch.45 | Ch.47 → |
Upon speaking with the others throughout the week, you decided to visit everything you possibly could—from the national assembly building to the presidential residence, the Roxee Museum of Art, and the department store.
Natalia's eye glints suspiciously.
"All right! I'll take you to the best crisp place in town!"
On the 15th, you talk to Nick.
Today, Natalia is in the office, but Megmica is not.
Nick's extraordinary beauty, you realize, is matched by the depth of his knowledge of history. Any question you have about the Capital District is answered with a response straight out of an encyclopedia. Raputoa's curriculum covers very little of the founding of the Capital District. The teachers simply tell you, 'the Capital District was designated a special area at the founding of Roxche'.
You learn for the first time today that the school sits on the site of an old village that was swallowed by the expansion of the Capital District.
Why was this area selected as the capital? How did the Capital District develop? What are the major issues currently plaguing the city?
Nick answers each question with eloquence as you jot down as much as you possibly can.
When Nick asks you where you plan to go tomorrow, you list off the places you wrote down.
"Mm. Excellent choices, " Nick says with a smile, but he seems a little miffed that he has nothing more to add to the list.
* * *
The 16th finally arrives.
It is your second weekend in the Capital District. You booked off today and tomorrow to enjoy all the Capital District has to offer. Unfortunately—
"We won't be walking around in this weather, " Larry remarks upon arriving at the dorms at eight in the morning. It is pouring outside.
It was perfectly clear yesterday, but the sudden emergence of a low pressure system causes rain to fall almost sideways in the gust.
Umbrellas are no use in this weather. Larry, in fact, is wearing a military-issue poncho and waterproof motorcycling pants. Beneath that he is wearing cargo pants and a light sweater.
Seron is wearing beige pants and an expensive black jacket.
In your case, you are of the opinion that a day out entails dressing up in your best clothes—even if it is a weekend—which means you are once again in your uniform.
"Yeah, it happens sometimes this time of year, " Larry explains, "makes you want to cry if you're on a camping trip. We're really careful about this kind of weather in the army. If you get drenched, in the worst-case scenario you could die of hypothermia."
Your plan for today was to visit government offices, but the weather does not allow for such a thing.
"But our newbie doesn't have a lot of time. Let's try someplace else."
Seron suggests a change of plans; a day-long tour of the Roxee Museum of Art.
The Roxee Museum of Art is the largest art museum in the Capital District and the Confederation. It is home to such a massive collection of works that not even a full day is enough to see them all. The museum was on your list of places to see.
Seron goes to a phone booth in the lobby and calls the others who are scheduled to come.
Jenny and Nick have no objections. They agree to meet at the entrance at 10, when the museum opens. Natalia and Megmica are supposed to be eating out with their families today. You wonder if they will be all right in this storm.
You take a taxi all the way to the museum. Seron and Larry cover the ride. The taxi comes all the way to the cargo entrance at the back of the dorms, preventing you from getting wet. It is technically against security regulations, but Seron says the guards let it slide at times like this. You note that this is the kind of knowledge only a dormitory resident would be privy to.
The taxi drives through the rain. The roads are nearly deserted.
This is your first taxi ride in the Capital District. The taxi is clean and the driver is dressed impeccably, as befitting the city.
You arrive at the Roxee Museum of Art.
The grounds are massive; the road continues even past the main gates, and beyond looms a majestic stone building. The entrance is in the middle, but you can barely make it out in the rain.
You are floored first by the museum's size, then by its grandeur, then the number of visitors lining up for tickets in spite of the weather. There are over a hundred lined up, as far as you can count.
You begin to worry that, with so many people, the museum will be too crowded to enjoy properly.
"Don't worry, " Seron reassures you, "it's so big inside it'll feel empty even with all these people." Exactly how large is the museum, you wonder.
You pay for your ticket with the money from the Ministry of Education. Yours is a one-day pass, but the museum also offers eight-day and month-long passes as well.
Soon—
"Good morning everyone, " Nick says, arriving by taxi, "it certainly is raining cats and dogs today."
Finally, Jenny arrives in a large luxury car with a pair of bodyguards, drawing much attention.
You do not know much about automobiles, but even you have heard of Jones Motors. Jenny is the daughter of the president, which almost doesn't surprise you considering what you have seen of her so far.
When the museum doors open, the visitors slowly disappear inside.
"Let's go on in, newbie, " Larry says, "what do you feel like seeing? Seron's gonna give you a great tour."
You reply that you want to look at the paintings you saw in art class.
The museum is filled to the brim with classics and masterpieces you saw only in textbooks, although there is no literal danger of them spilling out.
"This way, then, " Seron responds without even consulting the guidebook. He seems to have the museum's layout memorized.
You tour the museum for three hours, but according to the map you have seen less than 20 percent of the exhibits.
"It's a lot bigger than I thought. But I'm having a lot of fun, " you say once you reach the museum restaurant.
The restaurant is encased in glass, just as beautiful as the artworks the museum houses. Rain continues to drum away at the window outside.
Around the large table sit Seron and the others. Your order is not yet ready.
The long walk has made you a little fatigued.
"Good to hear. You're not tired?" Larry asks. He does not seem tired at all, which is what you would expect from an aspiring career soldier.
"I'm all right."
You are used to walking as well. Back home, long walks are part of everyday life. You are still doing well.
"The exhibits are lovely as always, but I must say a trip here is always exhausting, " Nick comments with a smile.
"I'm totally bushed. The food's gonna taste great, " Jenny says. They both seem a little tired.
Seron looks calm, however.
"Seeing results?" Larry asks.
"I think so, " Seron replied, "I'm feeling a lot better than before."
Confused, you ask them what they are talking about.
"I've been running these days, " Seron replies tersely. Larry adds on.
"Seron realized just how out of shape he was on Orienteering Day last month, so he's been running almost every night since. Starting the day you arrived, actually. I was at the dorms because I was planning out a route for him."
"I see." "Huh." Nick and Jenny nod. It seems this is their first time hearing this as well.
So that was why Larry suggested the beef stew at the dormitory cafeteria even though he lives at home. You finally understand.
"That sounds wonderful. You would be running on campus then, Seron?" Nick asks. Seron nods.
"Yeah. It's lit up pretty brightly at night. I run before taking a bath or early in the morning. Larry's set a pretty interesting course for me."
"What's it like?" Asks Jenny.
"It involves a bunch of different exercises. I run slowly starting at the dorms, but I have to start sprinting on the track field. Then I have to hang from the horizontal bars by the grounds, run again, and do sit-ups on the grass. And other things too. It's a lot more interesting than just running endlessly, " Seron replies.
It does sound interesting. Your walk to and from school—though a little different from exercising—involves an hour's walk across farmland, and is the most boring thing in the world.
You often think how great it would be if you could listen to music as you walk. You once tried walking with a book in hand, but after you fell into the cornfields you decided not to try it again.
"It's really rewarding to teach Seron. He's hardworking and focused, and he does everything you tell him to do, " Larry says.
"Thank you for waiting."
The waiter arrives with your food. He has a large platter on his right shoulder, supported by his right hand. In his left he has a folding cart for the platter.
First, he opens up the cart and places the platter atop it. Then he serves the dishes one after another. You have never seen this style of serving before.
Whoever came up with this system must have been very innovative, you think to yourself. As you note down the thought, Jenny snaps a photo.
Your meal is the most popular dish on the menu—the macaroni salad and fried chicken lunch.
It is much more expensive than eating out in Raputoa, but the money from the Ministry of Education covers the food.
The heaping helping of macaroni salad contains colorful vegetables like carrots and broccoli to spice up the visuals.
As for the fried chicken breast, the perfectly-fried batter seems to have been made with special spices. Your food also comes with clear consommé soup, a cup of tea, and a small scoop of ice cream for dessert.
It all looks and smells so good that you forget to ask Seron why he took up running after Orienteering Day.
After lunch, you continue your tour of the museum. Seron and Nick have explanations for all your questions, which makes the tour efficient because you do not have to stop to read the descriptions. You are happy that you get to see all the exhibits you have in mind.
At three in the afternoon, you step outside. The rain and wind have let up, giving you hope for nice weather tomorrow.
"We'll look at as many places as we can tomorrow. It'd be nice if we had a car, " Larry says.
"I'll bring one. A van, so we'll all fit in, " Jenny says without batting an eye.
At this point, even you understand that the luxuries afforded by the newspaper club are not owed to the 4th Capital Secondary School, but to Jenny's incredible resources.
Jenny gives you a ride back on her luxury car. Inside, it feels like a parlor has been transplanted into a vehicle. You are floored.
You take many, many notes and even get a photograph taken with the car.
You say goodbye to the others at the gates and return to the dorms with Seron.
The rain stops. The western sky grows brighter, tinting your room a bright orange.
As you organize your notes, you remind yourself how fortunate you are to have joined the newspaper club.
But you keep feeling as though you are only receiving from the others without giving back anything in return. Isn't there anything you can do to help them?
* * *
The next day. The 17th.
It is a beautiful day. The morning sun makes it almost seem like yesterday's storm never happened.
It is cooler than yesterday and the tap water is cold, likely because the weather cleared up overnight.
Before breakfast, you look out the window of your familiar dormitory room.
"Ah..."
And you happen to spot Seron in the distance, running in his sweats on the deserted grounds. His breath is visible in the cold.
"He's really hardworking."
You recall hearing that Seron has excellent grades.
And you begin to think—Seron is handsome and well-mannered. And if he becomes athletic as a result of his training, what won't he be able to do?
The plan is to meet at the gates at 10, so you pack your notepad and leave the room. Like yesterday, you are in your uniform, but you leave your coat because you do not get cold easily.
You run into Seron at the dormitory entrance. He is in a pair of jeans, a turtleneck shirt, and a jacket.
You came a little early because you did not want to cause trouble by being late, but it seems Seron thought the same thing.
You exchange greetings and walk together to the gates. Because Seron is so quiet you decide to break the ice.
"This might sound like a strange question, but is there anything you're not good at, SC Seron? You seem to be an expert at everything."
Seron thinks for a moment, then opens his mouth.
"Yeah. I can't say what it is yet, but..."
"But?"
"But right now, I'm fortunate enough to have a fighting chance even if I can't achieve my goal yet. So I'm going to improve myself as much as I can—without pushing myself too hard—until I can reach that goal."
After a short wait at the gates,
"Morning! Nice weather, huh?" Larry waves, arriving first.
Larry is always punctual. The sturdy-looking watch he always wears is probably there to help him with that habit. He seems to be dressed the same as yesterday, but upon closer inspection his sweater today is heavier.
"Morning, guys. Want something to chew on?" Natalia asks as she arrives. She looks good in pants thanks to her height. She is carrying a paper bag filled with cookies.
"What's this?" Larry asks, peering inside.
"Made 'em this morning. Hold your hands out, people. I'm distributing rations, " Natalia says, giving each person a fragrant chocolate chip cookie. The cookies are much bigger than the ones in stores, almost too large for the palm of your hand.
"This is huge! You bake, Lia?" Larry asks.
"There's only one thing in the world I can't do, and that's making you smarter, Larry, " Natalia quips.
Everyone starts on their cookie. You take a bite.
It is crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside. The flavor of chocolate and butter spreads throughout your mouth and assures you that yes, this cookie is indeed delicious.
"It's really good, Lia. But you sure we can eat these now?"
"Sure. I mean, you said yesterday that you're buying all the crisps for the day—"
"I did not."
"It's really good, Nat. Thanks."
"How 'bout adding this to Maxwell Frozen Foods' repertoire? I could sell you the recipe."
"I'll ask Mother."
"It's really good, SC Natalia. This is the best cookie I've ever had."
"Aha! You know your stuff, newbie. There's plenty more where that came from, so dig in and maybe you'll get taller."
You munch on more of Natalia's cookies as you wait for the others. Nick and Megmica arrive at almost exactly the designated time.
Nick arrives by taxi, and Megmica by luxury car. He is in a neat half-coat, and she in a one-piece dress and a short jacket.
"It seems I made it on time after all. Good day, everyone."
"I'm sorry! The roads were choked. Good morning."
Natalia hands each of them a cookie.
"Thank you, Nat. It tastes wonderful."
"Please teach later to me to make this cookie, Natalia."
You munch on more cookies together, and a little past the meeting time Jenny arrives by car. She is in an outdoor jacket as though dressed for a hunting trip.
The van—a Jones Motors model, obviously—is large enough to seat 10. The driver-cum-bodyguard is, as with yesterday, Kurtz. Litner is also there.
"Sorry I'm late, guys, " Jenny apologizes, opening the door with a wave.
"Ah, chief. Here. This is a legendary cookie bestowed only to the greatest of heroes! Now, guide us all!" Natalia cries dramatically, holding out a cookie.
"What's this?" Jenny asks, grabbing the cookie with her mouth. She takes hold of the rest after the first bite."Not bad. It's homemade, isn't it?"
"How'd you know?"
"Obviously, you wouldn't break even selling cookies with so much chocolate inside."
You take notes like no tomorrow.
You and the newspaper club go from place to place by van, visiting one site and then rushing off to the next.
First you visit the presidential residence, the national assembly building, the supreme court, and the major government buildings at the center of the Capital District. Because it is a weekend the traffic is not so bad.
Because the people in the buildings govern all of Roxche, they are as secure as they are majestic. Even as a tourist you must show ID at the entrance, and the police officers are armed with military-grade firearms.
Because the people in the buildings govern all of Roxche, they are as secure as they are majestic. Even as a tourist you must show ID at the entrance, and the police officers are armed with military-grade firearms.
"There was a fire in this building 140 years ago. One of the guards had used a fireplace to ward off the cold and failed to extinguish the fire properly. The interior was, unfortunately, completely gutted. But the building itself is sturdy in construction and made of stone, so it remained intact. Some traces of the great fire are preserved on the eastern wall—"
Nick's explanations are as detailed as ever.
But you do not jot down his lecture. You can learn historical facts easily through independent research. You limit your notes to your impressions of what you see.
"Getting used to the city yet, newbie? Want a bite?" Natalia asks, looking off at the presidential residence.
In her hand is a hotdog with salted cabbage and pickles, which she bought at a stand in the park around the building. It looks delicious but you cannot possibly eat any more at the moment.
First, you politely decline the hotdog."I'm not sure. But it definitely feels different from my first few days here, " you admit.
Like it or not, humans adapt to new environments. Which is why you have been taking notes so as to not forget how you felt before.
You make sure to note down, 'someday I'll even get used to SC Natalia's endless appetite'.
After touring the Confederation Library, you sit on a bench outside and gaze upon the building's unusual structure.
"Now that I think about it, " Larry begins, "I've never actually gone on such an in-depth tour of the Capital District before."
"Same." Natalia nods."I haven't been to the national assembly since they took us on a social studies trip in primary school five years ago. Can't believe it's still around." She is, of course, joking—it is no surprise that the national assembly building still remains.
Nick also agrees, "indeed. I would never tour this area unless we had guests from outside the city."
Because the locals have lived here their whole lives, they end up not going to sites they can visit anytime.
The other tourists around you also seem to be from out of town, as they are smiling and exclaiming at everything they see.
"It's so beautiful here. I almost want to pack up and move tomorrow."
"Yeah. Let's do our best to find work here."
A couple passes by in front of you, full of hope for their future.
The couple passes, and—
"Have you ever heard of something called Capital Syndrome?" Seron says out of the blue. It is almost scary how he does that sometimes.
"What's that?" "Seron, I do not like scary disease stories." You and Megmica flinch at the term.
Is it a disease going around the Capital District? Is it contagious?
The others seem unaffected, meaning the disease is known to the locals. You wait for Seron to explain.
"You could call it an illness of the mind. It's what happens when people who admire the capital and all it has to offer actually arrive, only to be terribly disappointed by the reality of the city. It's a kind of culture shock."
You nod in understanding.
"I know this feeling very well, " Megmica says, nodding again and again.
Natalia expands on the topic."Some people think you'll automatically have a cooler, better life in the Capital District. But people here don't dress like models all the time. Even expensive old apartment buildings are crummy—elevators breaking all the time, angry old ladies next door, or loud brats on the floor above."
"That is not all, " Nick adds, "some people romanticize the winding old alleys of the Capital District, but many alleyways are filled with nothing but garbage and feral cats. It's even more difficult for car owners, as finding parking space is nearly impossible. They say it is local custom to rub bumpers in parking lots, but that is simply an unwanted result of the lack of parking space. Traffic is terrible every day of the year, and costs of living are probably the most expensive in Roxche."
Even Larry has things to add."Human relationships are the worst in Roxche, too. It's hard to make friends in a bustling place like this, and even harder to find people to find someone to really have a heart-to-heart with."
They are taking no prisoners. The locals can only say such things because they live here, you realize. It makes sense that those who harbor delusions about the city would end up disillusioned by its realities.
"It makes sense. But I don't think I'll be around long enough to be disappointed, " you admit.
"Hearing everyone's stories, I am relieved, I think, " Megmica says gravely, "because I did not come alone, and I did not come for admiring. I am very relieved in many ways."
She is right. For Megmica, Roxche is a completely foreign land. She is only here because her parents are here, and she is with her family. That must be what gives Megmica comfort.
This might not be appropriate material for the article, but you note it down anyway. Megmica is also writing something in her notepad.
Jenny snaps a photo of you and Megmica together and speaks up.
"Should we move on, then?"
"Where to next, chief?"
"The place you've all been waiting for. Lunch!"
"Yessss!" Natalia swoons, clasping her hands together. She has been eating all morning without pause—what in the world does her digestive system look like?
"The restaurant's a little ways off, but I guarantee it's good. We might be in for heavy traffic so go to the bathroom now if you have to, " Jenny instructs.
"Oh, I'll do that."
You are the only person to raise their hand.
"It'll be a while before Kurtz brings the car around; take your time."
You head to the nearest bathroom—the one by the Confederation Library entrance.
After you finish your business, you walk out through the lobby with the high ceiling when someone calls to you.
"Excuse me."
You turn to find a man in his mid-to-late thirties.
He is in a navy suit and a pair of rimless glasses, and looks very calm and gentle.
The man does not seem suspicious—he comes off as a scholar more than anything else.
Appearances are not everything, however. For all you know, this man might be a skilled assassin with multiple kills under his belt.
But more importantly, whatever question the man has is probably not something a tourist like you could answer. You feel a little sorry for him, but you must reply.
"Yes, what is it?"
"That's a Raputoan uniform, isn't it, " the man comments, "I'm terribly sorry. It surprised me so much to see the uniform here I called out to you without thinking."
You are floored.
How does he know? For a moment you are stunned, but you quickly remember the flag on your sleeve. You swell a little with pride."Yes! I'm a short-term exchange student sponsored by the Republic of Raputoa. I'm studying at a secondary school here for the month."
The man's eyes widen slightly.
"That sounds wonderful. Actually, I once lived in Raputoa."
"Really?"
"Yes. I recognize the Ministry of Education's emblem. How nostalgic."
That is enough to convince you that the man is telling the truth.
The Ministry of Education's emblem is not only on your uniform, but on the car that drove you to the airport from your hometown, and on all school property. Every Raputoan citizen knows the emblem. But few people recognize it outside Raputoa.
You cannot tell how long the man might have lived in Raputoa, but it must have been a long time ago if he feels nostalgic about it.
"Raputoa probably hasn't changed much in the past few years, except for in the bigger cities. You should come back to visit someday, " you suggest earnestly.
"Thank you. I sincerely hope I'll get the chance, " the man replies, just as earnestly."Sorry to bother you. I must be keeping you from your group."
"Oh, right. It was nice meeting you."
You turn and walk away from the bespectacled man.
You do not know his name, and you do not know what kind of life he has led. You will never see him again, barring a miracle.
And yet it makes you very happy to meet someone in the Capital District who knows of your homeland. You may not be able to write about this in your article, but you decide to tell your family and friends about it once you get home.
* * *
"Finally, lunch!" Natalia cheers.
You are in a luxurious restaurant a little outside the city center.
"Easy there, Lia. You're not eight anymore, " Larry scolds her. Natalia is indeed acting a little childish.
The restaurant is nearly full, its patrons mostly dressed to impress. Clearly rich ladies and gentlemen.
You see no one else around your age, but the rest of the newspaper club shows no reservations about being here. Because they behave like they belong, you manage to not be completely overwhelmed.
You and the rest of the newspaper club sit around a long table, eyes on the dishes being served.
Salads arranged to perfection and veal steak topped with foie gras of the same size. Steaming-hot bread straight out of the oven. Fresh-squeezed juice.
To top it all off, the food is all served on expensive white ceramic plates. The plates seem to shine with quality.
It all reminds you that this is indeed a high-end Capital District restaurant. The dishes, the food, everything is marvelous. The dormitory cafeteria was impressive enough, but this goes above and beyond anything you have eaten at school.
"Let's eat. Gotta keep ourselves going, " Larry says. Everyone takes a moment to pray before their meal. Larry and Megmica take the longest, lifting up very earnest prayers.
You dig in.
You are not used to such luxurious food, but everything is delicious. You scarf down the food with as much grace as you can muster.
Then you think about the price and shudder.
You followed Jenny into the restaurant, and when she asked you if there was anything you couldn't eat, you said there was not. Then she ordered the special for everyone—without once mentioning the bill.
You did not use much of your allowance since coming to the Capital District, but you want to at least set some aside to get souvenirs for friends and family.
You hope this meal will not cost you half your spending money.
"Er, SC Jenny?"
"Yeah?" Jenny replies, tearing some warm bread in two.
"Isn't this place supposed to be very expensive?"
"It is."
"Ah—"
"But it's all free. So don't hold back."
"Huh? Why?"
"You'll see, " Jenny says, spreading butter on the bread and popping it into her mouth before it can melt.
You stare, dumbfounded, when someone calls out.
"Jenny!"
A man in his fifties raises his voice almost loud enough to disturb the other patrons.
He is short and very overweight, his bulges threatening to tear his vest.
The man reminds you of the kindly middle-aged men back home. You feel a little homesick.
As the other patrons and the rest of the newspaper club watch in shock, the man approaches Jenny. Jenny wipes her mouth with a napkin.
"It's been so long, Jenny! How are you?" He cries, pulling her into a tight hug.
"Ack! It's been a while, Manager, " Jenny struggles to reply in his arms.
You and the others finally understand the situation. The Manager knows Jenny, which is why the food is free.
"Aye, it's been half a year now! Glad you came in to visit!" His large hand slapped Jenny on the back again and again."Have you gotten smaller?"
"You're still as big as ever, Manager. You might die if you don't get yourself fixed up—unless you're hoping to become foie gras yourself?"
"Of course not. I plan to live long enough to see you marry, Jenny. I can't rest until I bake you the perfect wedding cake. So do find yourself a good man and marry soon. Let me rest in peace."
"Aw, shut up, Manager. It's gonna be a long while, you know."
They seem to have known each other for a very long time.
"You should visit more often, Jenny. I'll fatten you right up."
"I don't wanna look like you, Manager."
The exchange goes on briefly, but Jenny finally gets to the point.
"Manager, these are my friends from school."
Then she introduces everyone, one after another.
The manager is outgoing and personable, and holds nothing back. His conversation with Seron says it all.
"Ah! Maxwell Frozen Foods, you say? Please do tell your mother that she's going to drive me out of business with frozen food that good!"
"Of course. I'll make sure to tell her to step up her products, now that the manager of one of the Capital District's foremost restaurants is praising her."
You wish you could respond so courteously without missing a beat.
"Gah hah hah hah! Take good care of Jenny!" The manager says, then thanks the other patrons as he departs.
"How do you know him, chief?" Natalia asks, having at some point finished her food.
"He used to be our family's personal chef."
"Ah, I get it."
Jenny tells you about the manager.
Recognized for his skills, the manager worked as a chef with the Jones family for a long time. But he cast aside his stable job and sought independence.
Rather than oppose his departure, Jenny's father supported his endeavors fully.
Four years ago, the Jones family gave the manager full financial support to establish his own restaurant. The business was a success, and the manager came to own two additional branches and even a cooking school.
Even after successfully paying back his debt, the manager remained faithful to the family. He swore that he would provide free food to any member of the Jones family indefinitely, no matter when they came to one of his restaurants.
"So eat to your heart's content, guys. More steak, Nat?"
"Yeah! And the foie gras here is so good! Jenny, can we come here for meetings from now on?" Natalia demands jokingly, eyes glinting.
"Could I get seconds on the steak here too?" Larry asks.
Seron and Megmica ask for more bread, and Nick more salad. You ask for a half-serving of steak.
"I'm so glad I joined this club, " Natalia sighs. Internally, you nod.
As you feast on your incredible meal, you realize that the rich people of the Capital District are not rich simply because they worked hard.
They gained their riches by treasuring their connections with other people. You note down the thought.
And as though reading your mind, Jenny says,
"I grew up surrounded by some of the nicest adults in the world. And that's a fact."
After stuffing yourself all the way through dessert, you and the others resume the tour.
The afternoon itinerary involves touring the Capital West Station area.
You have always wanted to visit the massive train station and the massive department store around it.
"The crisps, too, " Natalia says.
"Yes, that too, " you reply.
First, you look around the station.
Seron takes on the role of guide, being familiar with the station thanks to his trips to and from home.
The station is just the way you remember from the photographs—a veritable fortress. A massive glass dome the size of a stadium covers over 10 platforms from high up in the air.
It certainly is nice to have a roof to keep the weather out, but you still must wonder if the sheer height of the ceiling is warranted. A lower ceiling would cost less and be easier to build. What were the architects thinking, you ask out loud.
"They left some room overhead just in case the railways develop further and they need more platforms. They can't widen the station property itself because of the surrounding buildings, but with a high ceiling they can build second- and third-story platforms overhead, " Seron explains.
"Wow...that's amazing, " you exclaim. It feels as though your eyes have been opened. The architects must have been looking 10, maybe 100 years into the future when they came up with this design. You open up your notepad as you reflect on your stance.
People bearing heavy pieces of luggage rush past. You might be swept away in the flow of people if you stand around aimlessly. It is much more crowded than the airport.
"Right now it's on the empty side, though, " says Seron, "you'll see a lot more people during rush hour. And during the holidays, there are so many travelers you can barely walk."
You cannot imagine such a large building filling up with people. You are almost overwhelmed.
Afterwards, you get to see, jot down notes about, and take photos of the massive clock and its hammer-shaped pendulum, the long platforms lying parallel to one another, and many other features of the station.
"To be truthful, I am coming first to this station too, " Megmica says, also enjoying the tour.
Megmica says she came to Roxche by ship; it was a long 20-day journey across the North Sea, followed by an entire day's train ride.
"Really? Newbie, you came by aeroplane, right? That's not cheap, you know. Anyone here ever flown before?" Larry asks. Natalia alone raises her hand.
You are surprised that Jenny does not raise her hand, but she says she mostly travels by car.
Natalia grins."Oh dear. So me and the newbie are the only ones who've managed to beat gravity and soar through the sky. Let's go over there and leave all these squares behind, newbie."
"That's enough, Lia. Newbie, you don't have to play along."
Natalia says she visited the Kingdom of Iks with her family over the summer. You are pleasantly surprised.
The Kingdom of Iks is a mountain country located in the Central Mountain Range, southwest of Raputoa.
Natalia says her family took a sleeper train and a bus on the way there because they had some business at another city, but took an aeroplane on the way back.
"You might have passed through Elitesa, then, " you say. There are only two roads into Iks, and Elitesa is at the entrance to one of them.
"Oh, yeah. I think so. That sounds about right."
"I knew it. Elitesa is a big city on the southern tip of Raputoa, " you explain.
"So that's another thing we have in common! Let's go over there and leave all these squares behind—"
"You didn't even know the city was in Raputoa until now, " Larry cuts in.
"Jealous, Larry?"
"No."
Megmica speaks up."Er...are flying aeroplanes not scary?"
"Not at all, " you answer, "the engine is a bit loud, but it was very fun."
"Mhm. It just zoomed through the air and landed smoothly. It's way better than traveling by train, " Natalia adds.
"But...but if the aeroplane falls...you might fall."
"Yes, but..."
Megmica has a point. But you think to yourself—if you worry about crashing, you would never be able to board an aeroplane. And you simply cannot give up the conveniences it offers, money permitting.
"What's wrong, Megmica? Gonna fly somewhere?" Natalia asks.
"Yes. It is yet not certain, but at the winter break at the end of the year I may for the first time in two years visit to my homeland."
"I see."
"If we go on a very fast aeroplane, they say it takes about two days to go to my hometown. So my family will. But I said it was too scary."
You can see where Megmica's family is coming from. If they take the same aeroplane as the one you took to the Capital District, they could reach Raputoa in a day and then transfer to a Westbound flight.
Maybe she will indeed end up stopping at Raputoa along the way, and maybe she will be able to visit. But—
"If the engine breaks, can I fix the engine?" Megmica asks in a panic, giving you no time to say anything. Her face looks paler than usual.
Seron seems to want to say something. He must be thinking of ways to reassure her—recite statistics about the low failure rates, or describe emergency landing protocol.
But someone beats him to the punch.
"Don't worry about it. If that happens, I'll just hop right up and fix it. Being tall has its advantages, " Natalia says.
Even someone as mechanically challenged as you can see she is lying through her teeth. Larry's expression agrees with you.
"Really?" Meg says, "it is a relief."
Seriously? You stare at Megmica in disbelief. You glance over and see Seron standing silently. Though his expression is blank, it feels as though he is thinking the same thing as you.
You leave the station and enter the department store across the street.
"The gorilla's place, eh?" Natalia comments. You have no idea what she is talking about, but you miss your chance to ask. Is there a gorilla living in the department store? The Capital District is full of mysteries.
The department store itself seems to you like a magic castle.
The biggest store you have seen in your life was the local shopping district. The department store, in contrast, is a whopping eight stories tall.
"It feels like someone just gave me a chimney saying it was a cob of corn, " you say.
"Excellent analogy, " Nick chuckles. You continue to struggle with the shock.
You wonder if all these products on display really will be bought. You can only imagine they will remain unsold on the shelves for a year or two, gathering dust. A clothing store you frequent back home, you recall, has had the dame duffel coat on display for the past four years.
When you share your concerns with the others, Jenny replies nonchalantly, "don't worry about it. All the products get sold and replaced or restocked every month or so."
"Oh...really?"
You continue to look around at the countless items for sale, marveling at the sheer quantity.
"This is all so expensive."
You almost feel dizzy at some of the prices.
Meanwhile, the others are enjoying the trip as well.
"Ooh, nice hat. I bet it'll look good on you, Megmica."
"It is very nice. I almost want it. I will next time ask my mother and father to buy it."
A few minutes later—
"Chief! Buy me that camera!"
"What are you, eight? No."
"C'mon, please?"
"You already have two."
"True.
A few minutes after that—
"Why not buy some new gloves for the winter, Seron? Larry? Do last year's gloves still fit you?"
"Hm. You have a point."
"Maybe I should."
From the way the others do their shopping, you realize how different you are from them.
It is not a good or a bad difference.
Just like you, the students at the 4th Capital Secondary School struggle with their studies and have fun with their friends.
And some things you simply do not have in common.
You make a note of the thought. 'People do not necessarily have to all be the same'.
You end up buying inexpensive and lightweight things like postcards, maps, and magazines for the people back home. That should be enough for everyone. You will also buy several items marked with the school crest at the campus store later.
By the time you leave the department store, it is already evening. The glowing red sky is just as beautiful as yesterday.
But you still have one more thing to do.
"You can't say you've been to the Capital District till you've tried these babies!" Natalia insists, taking you to a crisp store in the area.
"You can get these everywhere in the Capital District, but the place in front of Capital West Station makes 'em best! Willing to take objections, though!"
The long lineup at the store is testament to its popularity. You also wait in line for the famed snack.
You have never seen such crisps before. Each piece of fried dough is about five centimeters in size, looking like a cross between a cookie and a doughnut.
Some packs on display are still sizzling-hot. The paper bags they are sold in absorb the grease.
"All right! Give it a try!" Natalia says. You reach into the bag and pick up a piece.
"Hm?"
The texture on your fingers feels strange. There is some sort of a powder sprinkled on the crisp—you cannot tell if it is sugar or salt.
You slowly bring it to your mouth and take a bite—
"Ah..."
The taste spreads in an instant.
Though it is not spicy or sweet, the intense flavor fills your mouth and forces your lips to purse. But once you bite down, the flavor recedes.
"Ahh..."
You put the rest of the crisp into your mouth. You savor the taste again with a funny look on your face. Jenny takes a snapshot of the moment.
"Well? Well?" Natalia asks. You cannot lie to her.
"It's really strong. But...I think I might get addicted to this."
"Right? Here, have some more!" Natalia cheers.
You look around and see the others eating as well. Megmica is holding four bags of the stuff.
"My younger brothers, no, my family all loves this crisp very much. I will gift them to them."
Nick chimes in, licking his fingers, "they're not suitable for eating daily, but on those occasions when you do treat yourself it's difficult to stop before you finish the bag."
Seron is also eating blankly.
"Man, it's good. Whoever came up with this powder is a genius, " Larry says, looking at you. Your eyes meet just as you reach into the bag Natalia holds out.
"I love it, " you say. Larry grins.
"Welcome to the Capital District!"
That, you decide, will be the title of your article.
Surrounded by high-rises, the sounds of countless passing cars, and rich kids around your own age, you indulge in the deep-fried crisps together.
You will probably never have an opportunity like this again.
When the realization hits, you look up at the sky again.
The dusk-tinted sky is as clear as it can be.
* * *
You start on your article the very next day.
Referring to your notes, you begin writing in your notebook.
You would fall behind immediately if you write in class, so you use the short time you have after school to write in the newspaper club office.
"Working hard, eh?"
Even when you do nothing but write, Larry serves you tea and Seron looks up from his book to help you clear up some facts.
You begin to wonder if you deserve this sort of treatment. But—
"Don't worry about it, " Seron says immediately.
"Wanna try using this?" Jenny asks, pointing to a brand-new typewriter sitting on one of the desks. But because it looks like it'll take you a full day to learn to use it, you decline.
From the 18th to the 22nd, you spend every day after school at the club office. You write as if you are doing homework for composition class.
But because you cannot write too much, Jenny cuts content all the readers are expected to know, leaving behind only your personal impressions. As your sentences are cut one after another, the article becomes more and more dense with information.
In the end, the finished article is composed of two parts—your impressions of the Capital District and the things it has to offer, and your impressions of the school and student life.
"Not bad. I like it, " Jenny says. At the end of your five-day journey—after school on the 22nd—you finally finish. You put down your pen, glad and satisfied.
"Oh, almost forgot."
After club activities that day, Jenny hands you four bundles of photographs, each the size of a notepad. There are over a hundred photos altogether, which weigh quite a bit in a pile.
The photos are of the Capital District, the newspaper club, and you, amidst it all. You are surprised to see that over half the photographs are in full color.
"I want you to pick four or five to use in the article. Tell me the numbers on the back of the ones you want."
Jenny has already chosen the photo for the headliner—the funny face you made as you at the Capital District crisp for the first time. It is a bit—or rather, very—embarrassing, but because everyone agrees it is very appropriate for the article, you cannot object.
You are happy to be allowed to choose the rest of the photos, however.
"All right. Should I give you the numbers by tomorrow?"
"Sure. You can take the photos to the dorms."
You write on your notepad, 'pick five sample photos by the 23rd and return all photos to Jenny'.
You write on your notepad, 'pick five sample photos by the 23rd and return all photos to Jenny'.
If you had to be honest, you really want the photos for yourself.
You want to take them home to show the others. It would make explaining things so much easier. A picture is worth a thousand words, after all.
But you do not dare to ask. Film and photo paper are expensive—especially with color photographs.
Swallowing the disappointment, you finish writing your reminder—when Jenny nonchalantly comments,
"and tell me the numbers of any photos you want to take home. They're yours."
"What...?" You gasp, hands trembling."A-are you sure?"
"One newspaper isn't going to make much of a keepsake, don't you think?" Jenny says dismissively.
"But...I—"
You have nothing to give her in return, you want to say. But you are cut off.
"Don't worry about it, newbie!" Larry assures you from across the room, washing the teapot, "think of it as promotional material for the Capital District, the school, and the newspaper club!"
"But..." You trail off again, but Seron joins in as well.
"Take them to remember us by. I would want these photos if I were in your shoes, so I think you should take them. I would have asked Jenny if she hadn't offered."
Nick, who happens to be at the office today, nods beside you."Indeed. We've had such a good time together. It would be a shame for you to lose these wonderful memories."
You can no longer decline. You rise from your seat.
"Thank you, everyone! I promise I'll take good care of the photos—and the memories we all made!"
* * *
The end of the week. Lunchtime on the 23rd.
"How was the newspaper club?" The advisor asks.
"It was the best!" You reply, beaming, "everyone was very nice to me. I'm having a very good time with them."
"I'm glad to hear that, " the advisor replies with a smile.
If he didn't suggest that you join a club, you never would have met the newspaper club. You owe the advisor so much.
You resolve to never forget the advisor—the Roxchean teacher named Mark Murdoch.
* * *
Part 4: Your Job
"And? And then what happened?"
It is the 4th day of the twelfth month.
You are back at your home school in Raputoa for the first time in one month. Naturally, your return is the talk of the school. Everyone's eyes were on you during the morning assembly.
"I helped make this newspaper in the Capital District, " you said at the assembly, unfolding the newspaper. Now it is in a glass case, displayed in front of the headmaster's office.
You left one of the two copies you have at home, so you cannot show your article to your classmates.
So instead, you show them photographs as you explain your trip.
It is supposed to be social studies class, but even the teacher is more interested in your story than the lesson."How did the students there like the article?"
It seems you will be switching places with the teacher today.
"After I finished the article, we printed the papers on the 24th and 25th. Dozens of them. There were so many copies, " you describe, taking the story to its climax.
* * *
After school on the 26th, you arrived at the club office and came face-to-face with a copy of the newspaper.
A newspaper with your photo on it, and an article by you. You had never seen such a thing before.
You stared silently for some time and fell deep into thought. The rest of the newspaper club waited for you to finish thinking.
"Thank you, " you finally said, looking up.
"All right. Let's go post 'em, " Larry said, and the group split into two.
You, Seron, Megmica, and Jenny took the south side of campus, posting the papers in places where they did not cover any other posted materials or hurt the appearance of the space. The others told you that before it was officially recognized, the club had to post newspapers guerilla-style and the teachers would tear them down.
After posting all of the newspapers, you returned to the office.
"Good work. Here, you can take these home with you, " Jenny said, handing you two rolled-up copies of the newspaper.
* * *
"Jenny sounds like a really cool person, " one of your friends remarks.
"Well, I guess, " you reply.
"Hey, why're you getting all embarrassed?" Everyone laughs.
You laugh with them, but a part of you feels very lonely.
You are no longer part of the newspaper club. All you can see outside the window is the horizon. You are once again an ordinary student in the Republic of Raputoa.
If only you could put down these sentiments in writing and publish them in a newspaper.
And if only you could send that newspaper to the Capital District. But that is currently impossible—you do not know if it will ever be possible.
So right now, you only do what you can.
You tell your friends the whole story.
"I went to school the next day, and—"
* * *
When you went to school on the 27th, many people came up to talk to you. Both in the halls and in the classrooms.
"Hey, you're the exchange student from Raputoa, right? I really liked your article."
"How's the capital treating you? Isn't it great? That picture of you eating the crisp was really nice."
"It was interesting to see what someone from another state thinks of us."
"I'm glad you're enjoying the Capital District."
"Th-thank you!"
Each time, you thanked them profusely.
You were so happy. Like a village of strangers had suddenly become your family.
When you arrived at the club office, Seron, Larry, Jenny, Megmica, Natalia, and Nick—the whole club—greeted you with smiles.
"You're a regular celebrity now."
"Good going, newbie!"
"You might be more useful than these lugs here."
"You did very good work!"
"Nothing like some crisps to spice up the newspaper."
"I'm sure the newspaper will be a wonderful memento of your time here."
You tried very hard to not break the happy atmosphere, straining to hold back the tears.
On the next day—the 28th—things had been reversed, and it was your turn to answer questions from the newspaper club.
Everyone but Natalia and Megmica was gathered in the office.
"I'd like to hear about your homeland, " Seron suggested, and the others joined in as well.
"Feel free to ask me anything!"
You answered their questions until the sun went down.
It made you very happy to convey even one more thing about your motherland to the Capital District.
The 29th was your last day at the 4th Capital Secondary School.
Your classes were finished. Each and every one of them had been worth taking.
In each of your classes, the teachers presented you with a special report card. As per program rules, you would take back the report cards to Raputoa.
As you expected, you had not done quite as well as in Raputoa, but—
"We've never had a short-term exchange student perform so well, " the teachers all said.
"Thank you!"
You received the report cards, brimming with pride.
After thanking and saying goodbye to the headmaster, you hurried to the newspaper club. You wanted to spend as much time as you could with the members, as it was your final day there.
You knocked on the door for the last time, and found the six members waiting.
"Come on in!"
The table was laden with cakes, each one intricately designed. A strawberry shortcake, a mille crepe, a sachertorte with whipped cream. On the empty boxes news to them was the name 'Sears Patisserie'.
"Wh-what is all this?" You asked incredulously.
"It is a goodbye party. It is very lonely, but it will be good to say goodbye brightly, " Megmica replied.
"Sit down already, " Natalia ordered, playing her violin like the talented musician she was.
"Don't make Lia wait too long, " Larry advised, brewing tea, "she might gobble up all the cakes."
"We've ordered these from our favorite patisserie, " Nick said nonchalantly.
"You've only been here for a couple of weeks, but you were a great club member. So enjoy your party, " Jenny said, taking a photograph.
"Here. Take a seat." Seron, ever the gentleman, offered you the best seat.
You looked around at the 4th Capital Secondary School's newspaper club.
* * *
"Oh shoot! Did you cry, Cappie?"
"I did not! I held back."
"So you almost did!"
Surrounded by your friends' laughter, you think again—
That whether you are here or in the capital, you are surrounded by the most wonderful people.
"So what happened after that? Keep going, Cappie!"
You continue.
"And then—"
* * *
The party in the office seemed to end in the blink of an eye.
You were not leaving until the afternoon of the next day, but because you would be busy signing out and taking care of last-minute business, you would not be going to classes or visiting the club. You said goodbye to everyone but Seron at the gates.
The sunset was beautiful.
Would you ever get the chance to see these people again, you wondered sadly. Then you looked up. Life would go on. Though you did not know what the future held in store, you knew that your attitude could make a difference. There was no use being pessimistic. Right now, the best you could do was say goodbye with a smile.
"Take care of yourself, yeah? May the gods smile on the Republic of Raputoa and its people, " Larry said with a salute.
"Come back and have some more crisps!" Natalia said, putting a hand on your shoulder.
"You were a most excellent student of Capital District history. An A+ for you, " Nick said, becoming the last of the Capital District teachers to give you a report card.
"Give me a call if you're ever in town again." Jenny said, handing you a note with her telephone number on it. In a corner of the note was scribbled the words, 'Call me at 8 tonight. Don't tell the others'.
You did not know what she was planning, but decided to obey. You slipped the note into your pocket.
"I hope you've made a lot of great memories here. Remember, if the engine breaks, do your best to fix it, " Megmica advised gravely.
Holding back tears, you watched everyone disappear beyond the gates and finally turned to Seron.
"I'm so glad you're here, SC Seron. I would have felt so lonely if I were alone right now."
You walked with him back to the dorms.
The magnificent campus buildings, the field dotted by sports clubs finishing up activities, and the forest of apartment buildings beyond, all glowing orange in the sunset—it would probably be the last time you saw this scene.
Slowly, you walked.
Seron silently matched your pace.
* * *
"They all sound like such good people!" One friend remarks. You nod proudly.
"Why are you acting all proud? Never mind. Anyway, it looks like you never managed to do anything in return for them."
"That's not exactly true."
"Really? It sounds to me like it was all one-sided."
You reply, "there was one really important job at the end that no one else could do."
* * *
You had your last meal at the dormitory cafeteria with Seron.
Until then you had not gone out of your way to eat together because you had your own preferred study and bath times, but for the final meal you decided to coordinate.
The menu that day was hamburg steak marinated in special sauce. The sweet carrots and demi-glace sauce on the side were mouth-watering.
You recalled that everything at the school cafeterias had been delicious. For a moment you hated your tongue for perceiving the great flavors, as you would not be able to eat such foods again.
The next day, you would be very busy all day. You said goodbye to Seron after dinner.
"Take care. Contact me if you ever get to visit Weld or the Capital District. You're welcome anytime, " Seron said at the lobby as you parted ways.
As you watched him depart, the question that had been on your mind the whole time since you first joined the newspaper club came back to you. The thought bobbed to the surface again and again.
Wasn't there anything you could do for the newspaper club to pay back their kindness?
You fell into thought, standing alone in the lobby.
You could not think of anything, however. You supposed the debt was meant to be paid someday in the far-off future. The thought depressed you.
Afterwards, you headed to a phone booth to solve the mystery of Jenny's note. The booths were quite crowded even so late in the evening.
Luckily, you spotted some empty booths and stepped inside one of them.
After a brief wait, you called the number at eight on the dot. Jenny soon picked up.
~Hey there, newbie. ~
"G-good evening, SC Jenny. Is this your personal telephone?"
~No, I'm just borrowing it. Anyway, give me the number of the phone you're using right now. I'll call you back. ~
You did as you were told and hung up. Just as you picked up the change, Jenny called you back.
* * *
"So which one's SC Jenny?" Your friend asks, so you point her out in a photograph.
The photo was taken by Litner the bodyguard in front of the Confederation Library. This is the only one featuring all seven of you, so you tell your friend to be careful with it.
"The short girl right here. She's the chief."
"Aha. So what did she want with you? You said it was an important job?"
"Yeah. She said—"
* * *
~I've got one last job for you, newbie. ~
"R-really? Yes! I'll do anything I can!"
~I like your attitude. But first, is Seron Maxwell around right now?~
You raised your eyebrow, but you soon remembered the note and replied, "No, he's not. And the booths on either side of me are empty too."
~Good. Then here is your order. ~
What was she planning, you gulped.
~Write a letter to Strauski Megmica. ~
"Huh? what do you—"
~I want you to write a letter to Strauski Megmica. As soon as possible. ~
"R-right. A letter. Sure, I can do that. But what do I write?"
You were taken off-guard. You were planning to write to everyone after you returned to Raputoa.
~See, we've had a problem in our club ever since it was founded in the summer. ~
"What is it?" You gulped again. Jenny disclosed the truth.
~Seron is in love with Megmica. ~
"Really? A-are you sure?"
~One hundred percent. C'mon, you spent the last two weeks with us and didn't notice?~
You spent 10 whole seconds rewinding. But—
"No, I didn't."
~I suppose Seron can be hard to read with that stony face of his. But—~
"But?"
~He sometimes ends up doing the most dorky things because of her. You heard about how he's started running recently, right?~
"Yes."
~Well, he's doing that because of what happened at the orienteering competition we had last month. Seron got tired and fell behind before Megmica, and she had to pull him along by the hand at the end. It must have bothered him. ~
"I see..."
~He probably wanted to make a better impression on her, that shy idiot. And now he's struggling to make up for what he thinks was an unsightly display. For being so handsome and smart, he sure is a moron. ~
Jenny was harsh. But you could not get angry at her on Seron's behalf. You had to hear her out to the end.
"So why do you need me to write to SC Megmica?"
~I want you to tell her something. ~
"Y-you can't mean, 'beware of Seron'?!" You whispered harshly.
~Calm down, newbie. I mean the opposite. ~
"You mean..."
~Just tell her, 'I think SC Seron likes you'. ~
"What?"
She wanted you to confess Seron's feelings in his stead.
"I-is that really all right? I feel so bad for SC Seron..."
~Hmph. I knew you would say that. ~
"I think most people would agree with me."
~And you're right. But Seron is such a chicken, ~ Jenny said mercilessly, ~so he'll never come out and say it. I can tell. ~
"You really think so?" You managed to respond. But you were inclined to agree.
~At this rate, Seron's gonna make zero progress before graduation. I don't know what Megmica has planned afterwards, but what if she ends up going back to Sou Be-Il for university?~
"You're right."
~So I ask you this, newbie, ~ Jenny said gravely, ~would you just leave Seron floundering the way he is now?~
"What? I..."
Things were not all right as they were. With that in mind, you came to an answer.
If Seron was in love with Megmica, he should tell her. If things worked out, then that was wonderful—if not, he would spend some time in misery but soon move on with life.
You replied, taking care so as not to be quite so blunt.
"No. I don't think I should."
~There's no beautiful, glorious future in store for an idiot who sits around just being happy that he gets to be in the same club as his crush. Don't you think?~
"Right."
~Yeah. If he's in love, he should be honest and say he is. I'm not saying he should shout it from the rooftops. And there definitely needs to be something like a friendship before he tells her. But he's just sitting on his hands now, being too shy to confess! That's just complacent. If he loses her because he doesn't act, he deserves it!~
Jenny was getting angry, though you couldn't tell if the anger was directed at Seron or someone else. It sounded almost as though she had made the same mistake herself.
"I see."
~Nat and Nick agree with me, by the way. ~
"Do they know too?"
~Obviously. Larry does too, cause Seron told him. Megmica's the only one who doesn't. I don't know if that's because she's too dense or sensitive, or because she assumes a handsome guy like Seron would never fall for her. It's gotta be one of those three. ~
"Do the others know about your plan, SC Jenny?" You asked.
~No. ~
"Then maybe you could consult—"
~No. ~ Jenny cut you off.
"Why not?"
~Look. I think Nat, Nick, and Larry feel the same way I do, to a certain extent. And they'd push for this plan if I told them. But what if they don't? And more importantly—~
"Yes?"
~Suppose the worst happens. As long as I'm the only one who planned this, everyone will get mad at me. I'm the only one in the Capital District who'll have to take their anger face-to-face. ~
You understood what she meant."So you're saying that I'm in the right position to take up that role, since I'm leaving tomorrow?"
It was a very harsh order. These people who helped you for the past two weeks could end up hating you from halfway across the continent for a very long time because of your actions.
~Yeah, ~ Jenny paused, and continued, ~so I need your help, newbie. ~
She was serious.
~And this is just my intuition, but...~
"Yes?"
~I don't think Megmica dislikes Seron at all. If he asked her out, she wouldn't turn him down, at least not immediately. She would at least take some time to think it over. ~
"Th-that would be wonderful, but what if she says she doesn't like a guy who can't ask her out himself?"
~You have a point. And if that happens, it's all over. I guess it's a possibility, considering what she's said and done before. I suppose you could write to Seron instead and urge him to confess, but I don't think that'll spur him into action. ~
"That's true."
~And we can't just wait around hoping Megmica will come around and confess to Seron one day. As Seron's friends, we only have two options. Push him into a risky situation that could pay off, or let him stagnate in his current position. ~
You thought for several dozen seconds.
And though you were silent, Jenny waited patiently.
* * *
"She said I had to play matchmaker."
Everyone bursts into laughter. They were expecting something more serious.
"Come on, " you say, "there were these two people in the club who liked each other—"
You lie to your classmates. You could not tell them the truth. But at the same time, you pray that your lie becomes a reality.
"She asked me to tell them before I left. If one of the club members did this, they would get caught, so I had to spill the beans instead."
As the class applauds, someone asks,
"So did you do it?"
* * *
At the Capital District Airport, you wrote to Megmica just as Jenny instructed.
'Did you by any chance notice how SC Seron feels about you? It's been on my mind the whole time I was in the newspaper club. I'm very sorry if this comes off as nosy to you. '
Jenny assured you that she would tell you the whole story, no matter what the outcome. You wanted to hear how it turned out, but at the same time did not want to hear it.
But either way, you did all you can.
At the Capital District, you studied, visited places, enjoyed club activities, and did what you could to repay the people who helped you.
As you finished the phone call, you had asked,
"Are you sure this will be a good thing for SC Seron? I'm kind of worried."
~It's up to him to capitalize on this opportunity. No one else, ~ Jenny had replied.
* * *
~It's been a while, SC Jenny. ~
~It sure has, newbie. Or I guess I can't call you that any more. Want me to call you by name?~
~It's all right. ~
~You're calling from Raputoa, right? Should I call you back?~
~Yes, please. Oh, but I wanted to ask you something quickly. ~
~Mhm. ~
~Did my letter reach SC Megmica? What happened afterwards?~
~Things are turning out as I expected, more or less. ~
~What happened?~
~Something big. ~
| ← Ch. 45 | Ch. 47 → |