I Will Inspire Your Insipid Days - Volume 1 Chapter 3.1

Gazing

The Shumonzuka Girls’ Academy Festival, known as the “Harvest Festival,” is essentially a large-scale exhibition involving the entire student body.

Over two days, works by current students are displayed throughout the academy. Students specializing in art or arts submit paintings or sculptures, while those specializing in music or theater perform at various halls within the academy. The event is open to the public, and it also serves as an open campus for junior high students considering enrollment.

Held in July—mid-Fumizuki, its origin comes from “Harvest Month” (Month of Ear Containing). The old calendar’s July corresponds to early autumn, overlapping with the period when the rice ears in the fields begin to swell. It’s said that the festival was named likening the budding creators at the academy to these growing ears of rice. Additionally, the school festival conducted in March is called the “First Moon Festival,” and the combined scores of these festivals directly contribute to the annual academic performance.

When I first met Natsume-san, I explained that Shumonzuka Girls’ Academy doesn’t have regular exams, and the evaluation of one’s work directly impacts academic performance.

Submitting a poorly crafted work or failing to showcase it by the deadline results in a score of “0,” effectively confirming a student’s retention.

The evaluation of works is conducted by a council composed of the principal, Shumonzuka Asuka, and the academy’s teaching staff. “I have to attend, despite having no say. It’s a long ordeal, and I can’t even smoke,” Satsuki-san once said.

The direct link between the works and academic grades, and the determination of students’ fate based on these evaluations, implies that some students achieve high ratings. In fact, more attention is paid to these students, and those who submit outstanding works in each grade are personally commended by the principal at a school assembly. It’s not just any assembly, but one gathering the future bearers of entertainment and art in Japan at Shumonzuka Girls’ Academy. Media access is allowed on the day, and sometimes the works displayed are entered into domestic and international contests. ──However, this is irrelevant to me.

Now, as the Harvest Festival approaches, changes around the academy become increasingly noticeable. Tapes marking the exhibition spaces are placed throughout the premises, and various objects have been set up.

Satsuki-san, a teacher, appears visibly busier, and our chances to converse have significantly decreased. Previously, I was called into the consultation room for trivial chats without any specific reason, but I think it’s better this way if she doesn’t have time to spare. Work hard.

After the morning classes, students head to their respective stations. Looking out the classroom window into the courtyard, I see first-year students from another class setting up a sculpture stand.

Nearby, a group of upperclassmen surrounds a portable music player, moving their bodies and confirming choreography. I recall they are the group performing a creative dance in the grand hall.

I’m not familiar with what a typical high school festival looks like, but despite many students being busy, there’s no commotion—most are quietly focused on their tasks.

I make my way through the crowd, heading straight for the student dormitory.

No practice is needed. No preparation is required. For me, practice is merely observing.

Even if there’s no emotion behind it or passion to move someone’s heart is lacking, it’s not a problem. My supreme command is only to graduate from the academy.

The Hanabishi family, the master of dance, intended for their successor to enroll in and graduate from Shumonzuka Girls’ Academy, one of the nation’s leading intangible cultural heritage training institutions. That was supposed to be the predetermined path in Kanon’s life.

Traditional arts, even if supported by a minority, are respected if deemed “necessary” and “worth preserving” by society. Therefore, objective evaluation is crucial. Is something deemed valuable in a general sense achieved?

In this regard, the fact of “graduating from the famous Shumonzuka Academy” holds enough value to secure an objective evaluation in one fell swoop. “A graduate of the renowned Shumonzuka will inherit the Hanabishi family”—just that ensures the family’s prestige.

That’s probably why Kanon rejected the path laid out for her life.

Unlike me, Kanon is a strong person who can think and act freely.

──Though I didn’t understand why I ended up looking after Natsume-san while being pushed around by her, it finally made sense.

Natsume-san’s behavior somewhat resembles Kanon’s.

Meanwhile, life with Natsume-san remains largely unchanged.

She continues to control the conversation and rhythm of our daily life.

“Yonon, what kind of clothes did you wear back home?”

“What’s up with the sudden question?”

As I turned my head while wiping the floor with a rag, Natsume-san made an absurd remark.

“Wow. It’s like a scene straight out of Cinderella.”

Using her index fingers and thumbs to frame my figure, she peered through.

“Because the context is completely missing, I don’t know how to respond.”

I understand the conversation was interrupted, at least.

“It all started because you, Natsume-san, restricted the use of the vacuum cleaner.”

Previously, when I borrowed a vacuum cleaner from the dorm to remove accumulated dust, she pleaded with a pale face, “Seriously, that noise is unbearable. It’s not just distracting; it’s intolerable.”

Natsume-san suffers from auditory hypersensitivity and often wears noise-canceling headphones while working. Apparently, the sound of the machine’s motor causes vibrations that resonate in her head.

Nevertheless, for me, who used to wipe the expansive floors of the mansion every day, cleaning our room is hardly a chore.

Natsume-san elegantly ignores my complaints and continues her questioning.

“Yonon, what kind of clothes did you wear back home?”

“Don’t repeat with the same volume and intonation. I was wondering how to answer.”

Like a worn-out record. I respond while strongly wringing out the blackened rag.

“Any kind of clothes? Everything in that closet is all I have.”

“Everything? But there are only women’s clothes.”

“That’s right, those women’s clothes are what I wore at home.”

“Did you buy them yourself?”

“Of course not. They were shared with my twin sister.”

“You’re dizygotic twins, right?”

“Our body shapes were almost the same. Our facial features were similar too, and wearing those clothes was normal, so I might not have felt much of a discrepancy.”

“By the way, what cup size are you, Yonon?”

“I used padding for a B cup… but what about it?”

“Do men’s nipples also hurt when they rub against clothes?”

“What kind of conversation is this!?”

“Answer me.”

“I’ve never been conscious of it, so I don’t know! …Hey, Natsume-san, you’ve been asking a lot of questions, but what’s your intention, and what do you want to know about me?”

“Everything.”

Natsume-san spoke in her usual monotone voice.

“I want to know everything about Yonon. It’s related to what I’m trying to create. So, I’ll keep asking.”

I really wish she would spare me. That’s what I truly feel.

But being told it’s related to what she’s creating makes it hard to refuse. I am Natsume-san’s roommate, and she’s a genius artist… I can’t treat her harshly.

The relentless questioning continued mercilessly.