I Will Inspire Your Insipid Days - Volume 1 Chapter 2.7

Finding

With a somewhat relaxed tone, Komachi-san began speaking again.

“The anxiety and worries about ‘whether I am alright as I am’ can only be held by those with ambition. After all the worrying, surely the path you should take will become clear.”

This must be Satsuki-san’s own way of communicating. Without waiting for Komachi-san’s response, I prefaced with “This is merely my subjective opinion, but” and continued.

“As your homeroom teacher, I highly regard you. Having a student like you in the classroom is a blessing. You have exceptional communication skills and can get along with anyone, which is somewhat an anomaly in Shumonzuka, where students can be quite difficult.”

Caught off guard by the sudden praise, Komachi-san fell silent.

“Mood makers are essential to any organization. Even in a results-driven world, human relationships form the base. Being able to act as a buffer between people and create something together is valuable.”

That’s when I interjected.

“I’ve always thought this, but doesn’t that mean the school is failing?”

Satsuki-san didn’t even glance my way, answering dispassionately.

“There’s no need for the school to function in that manner. Shumonzuka isn’t a place to make memories hand in hand with everyone. It’s an institution for honing skills to preserve intangible culture.”

“Even in such an environment, mood makers are important?”

“Exactly.”

Satsuki-san stated emphatically.

“That’s why I hope as many of my students as possible graduate.”

Turning back to Komachi-san, she resumed speaking.

“Komachi Kimie, let me tell you something good. As an adult, the connections between people are absolutely prioritized. No matter how talented a creator you are, if you don’t have the means to spread your work and reach the world, you won’t make a living. Except for a few geniuses, communication skills are always a necessary skill. It’s fine if you can’t create something by yourself. If you connect someone with someone else and help create new value, then you’ve played a part in the final product.”

“Ah… Ah…”

Receiving a heartfelt cheer, Komachi-san’s voice trembled.

“Thank you… Satsuki-sensei…”

A faint tear was visible at the corner of her eye. Surely, it wasn’t a mistake.

Turning her moist eyes towards me, Komachi-san spoke.

“Hanabishi-san… It’s hard to tell since we’re both Hanabishis, but thank you, Kanon-san. You’ve thought a lot about me.”

“I only relied on the power of an adult.”

“No, it really helped. It was tough carrying it all by myself, and just having someone listen is a relief. Even arranging this meeting with the teacher for me…”

I felt somewhat embarrassed as I recalled the few times in my life when I had been thanked so directly.

The air around us became more relaxed.

“But, you know,”

Satsuki-san muttered.

The mood seemed uplifted, perhaps because of the light-hearted atmosphere.

“It’s rare for Yokaze to take action for someone else.”

──Hey.

I glared at Satsuki-san as I responded.

“It just happened that way, Satsuki-sensei.”

“I’m happy about it. I wanted Yokaze to enjoy school life. When you were forcibly enrolled here, I wondered what would happen. I never thought you’d make friends.”

I intensified my glare as I continued.

“The one who forced the role of class president on me was you, right, teacher? Regardless of the reason, it’s natural to do my best so my classmates can have fulfilling days.”

“I thought you were the perfect choice, didn’t I? You never forget a face, a map, a manual, anything you’ve seen once. You’re an excellent support character.”

“…Sigh…”

I was too tired to keep glaring.

Let it be what it will.

“Ooh? What’s wrong? Were you moved by my magnificent appearance?”

Completely resigned, I listened as Satsuki-san spoke with pride, oblivious to my feelings.

“Uhm──”

Reality, as always, is harsh.

Without mercy, Komachi-san spoke up.

“Who’s Yokaze that Satsuki-sensei keeps mentioning?”

The atmosphere tensed immediately.

A piercing silence dominated the room.

In the stalemate, the only thing to break the quiet was Satsuki-san’s foolish utterance.

“Ah.”

I sternly addressed the bewildered homeroom teacher.

“How are you going to take responsibility, Satsuki-san?”

“Uh… well…”

“I’ll leave the explanation to you. I’m not at fault here.”

“Ah… haha… um, Kimie, can I have a moment with you…?”

“Wait, did I just ask something I shouldn’t have?”

I sighed deeply and left the consultation room through the heavy soundproof door.

***

Back in my room, Natsume-san was engrossed in her work, munching on some candies. Perhaps she needed the sugar to fuel her brain. After dinner, I broached the topic I hadn’t been able to mention yesterday.

“By the way, Natsume-san, about that exhibition──”

“Show me.”

Natsume-san eagerly stood up and leaned in. Hurriedly, I explained.

“Even if you say ‘show me.’ It was written ‘no photography allowed,’ and besides, I don’t really know how to use a smartphone.”

“Ugh.”

She puffed her cheeks in dissatisfaction, though this was unexpected for me too, so I hope she forgives me.

“Not all galleries prohibit photography, right?”

Natsume-san sighed deeply but quickly continued.

“Then, Yokaze, verbalize what you saw. You can do that, right?”

“Even if you say that…”

“It’s not like I want to know every single detail. I just want to know how my works were displayed, what kind of presentation there was. I can get the gist from just textual information.”

“If that’s the case…”

Although I couldn’t explain fluently, I recounted the scenery as it was seared into my brain. Fortunately, I knew which paintings were displayed where, their titles, and the accompanying captions.

It took some time, but after a thorough recreation of the scene, Natsume-san’s response was unexpected.

“It’s wrong to deify my paintings.”

A reaction beyond my imagination, yet also somewhat expected.

Deification.

Words like “emerging artist” and “social satire from a unique perspective” were attached beside the exhibition space, but whether that constituted deification, I couldn’t say. However, it was clear that my works received special treatment in that otherworldly space.

“Doesn’t that just mean a lot of people support you?”

“I’d rather be treated like trash, though.”

Natsume-san frowned unhappily.

“I just draw what I see. I’m not thinking about it. I’m just projecting what I see. It’s not sacred. If what I see is treated as special and deified, then that would make me a god. I’m too imperfect to be a god.”

I didn’t understand what she was saying, but what I did grasp was that the exhibition wasn’t satisfactory for Natsume-san.

Maybe I don’t need to understand.

Natsume-san, whose work possesses enough force to dominate a room by simply “projecting what she sees,” is called a genius for that reason.

Reflecting on the conversation between Komachi-san and Satsuki-san, I thought about Komachi-san’s situation. Swallowed by the unique environment of Akamonzuka Girls’ Academy, she expressed anxiety and dissatisfaction about her current position, describing herself as “stagnant.”

And what about Natsume-san?

Pushing art before meals and sleep, winning special exemptions with her overwhelming talent, and leading a distorted school life.

It’s been over a week since we started living in the same room, but aside from when she’s sleeping, I’ve never seen Natsume-san stop working. She’s always facing art, undaunted, fighting on, and revered like a hero by various people on the internet.

I’m simply overwhelmed by the sight of “Natsume” pushing forward alone.

──Does this person ever hit a “wall”?