I Will Inspire Your Insipid Days - Volume 1 Chapter 5.1

Epilogue

“Thank you, Yokaze. You’ve saved my neck with this.”

The day after the Hohaku Festival, I was summoned to the consultation room, where I was greeted by Satsuki-san, who was humming a tune in a noticeably good mood. She thanked me right off the bat, leaving me somewhat baffled, so I simply responded with “You’re welcome” for the time being.

Satsuki-san then stretched broadly and let out a refreshing sigh.

“Your stage won a prize, Yokaze and the team. I thought I’d let you know first.”

“That’s great to hear.”

“You sound like it’s none of your business. You earned it. Only the top 10 groups out of the whole school get awarded, you know. Well, it’s not like there’s a ranking system, but still.”

“I didn’t fully grasp the significance since I wasn’t well-informed about the details of the evaluation system. All I remembered was that, as a scholarship student, Natsume-san needed to win to maintain her status.”

“Exactly, that’s the point. It’s crucial that Tachibana Natsume’s group won for the record.”

“…I understand that. It was a top priority that Natsume-san, being a scholarship student, had to achieve high praise at the Hohaku Festival to keep her enrollment.”

“That’s what I’m talking about. Well, I’m sure there’ll be more challenges ahead, but I’m counting on you, Yokaze.”

“Could you not add tasks so casually? I’m overloaded as it is.”

Ignoring my protest, Satsuki-san changed the subject.

“So, how was it? Your first time on stage?”

She asked with her usual cheerful tone… but somehow with a maternal gentleness.

After pondering for a moment, I spoke.

“…I can’t quite put it into words, but I think it was fun.”

“What’s with that noncommittal answer? It’s like it’s got nothing to do with you.”

She laughed heartily, slapping my shoulder hard. That hurts.

“Yeah… I dunno, it was an amazing stage. That’s what I thought, and I bet the gallery felt the same. Don’t really understand it, but it was an incredible stage.”

“Aren’t you being abstract with your feedback too?”

“Idiot. That’s the right level of sentiment for an audience. The quality of art and entertainment is determined in the heart of each viewer.”

“…The quality is determined in each person’s heart.”

I repeated slowly, embedding it in my heart.

Viewers can’t know precisely who created the work, their environment, their state of mind during creation. They can only systematize and infer the elements embedded in the work through the device known as the artwork.

That fact—feeling this realization keenly now—might be proof that I myself have produced a work.

“When faced with art that is deemed ‘incredible,’ the emotions that arise in the gallery are ‘I don’t understand.’ And most people, even though they don’t understand, try to find ‘reasons for its incredibleness.’ But, truly outstanding works overwhelm their surroundings with just their sensational ‘incredibleness.'”

Satsuki-san smiles and asks again.

“So, how was it?”

I close my eyes, recalling yesterday’s scene.

Every gaze directed at me on stage, the faces and expressions of each person in those gazes, my eyes remember all. It’s seared into me. And likely, it won’t fade.

Opening my eyes again, I see Satsuki-san with a soft expression.

With pure feelings, I voice them as they are.

“For the first time, I felt like it was good to be me.”

Satsuki-san’s cheeks relaxed.

“Getting such emotions out of you might be a big accomplishment.”

“What do you mean by that?” I ask, and Satsuki-san shifts her legs and relaxes her posture.

“Because you’re emotionless, right, Yokaze?”

“What do you mean by that!”

I almost stand up in protest but am told to “calm down.” I exaggeratedly react to imply that if I were truly emotionless, I wouldn’t be upset, but Satsuki-san continues, “Not like that,” and I listen.

“Humans, you know. When they face injustice or hit insurmountable walls, they get depressed, they suffer. It’s not that pessimistic people are weak, but that’s just the nature of humans. Conversely, it doesn’t mean people who never get depressed are strong. If you affirm that not feeling anything is okay, you’re saying the ideal human is a machine.”

“I’m surprised Satsuki-san suddenly sounds like a teacher.”

“Haven’t I been saying teacher-like things all this time!”

Still looking a bit grumpy, Satsuki-san goes on.

“Yokaze, you’ve been through a lot, right? Things happened, and things didn’t, right?”

“You’ve suddenly become so abstract I’m not getting anything. Are you really a teacher?”

“That’s what I’m saying!”

Her voice raises, but the words keep coming.

“You’ve accepted too much, Yokaze. I know it’s based on resignation. The Hanabishi family is a matriarchal clan, males are unnecessary. You were kept in the mansion as a convenient servant, watching Kanon be favored. To you, that might have been natural, and honestly, I also didn’t realize until I entered society that ‘Hanabishi is like that. Others are others, we are us.’ But while living those days, Yokaze, you became unable to assert yourself, ‘I want to do something’ or ‘I want something done.'”

“…Not that I became unable, more like I didn’t even think to try.”

I don’t have many memories of asking someone for something.

Or rather… perhaps none at all.

I took everything for granted. I convinced myself it was so.

My situation, “The Hanabishi family is matriarchal, thus males are unnecessary.”

Kanon running away and me being forced to enroll at Shumonzaka Girls’ Academy.

Everything was accepted. Hanabishi Yokaze’s fate was already determined without question.

Because I thought it was natural, nothing changed even after coming to the academy.

For instance, when Natsume-san made demands, I complied with all of them while internally complaining.

“Environmental factors might have played a role. Even if the environment where one was born isn’t a good fit, by going to school, hanging out in the city, entering society, one realizes the ‘normal’ they believed in is actually different. But in Yokaze’s case, there were few students in the elementary school to begin with, and on top of that, you were often absent, drastically lacking experiences to compare with others. It’s almost like you were brainwashed.”

I had never thought of it that way.

But not thinking it was the discrepancy, I understand now.

“Of course, I can’t assert that knowing the outside world directly leads to Yokaze’s happiness. Some people might find the greatest happiness in not thinking about anything, not being forced to do anything, not being exposed to any stimuli, avoiding all failures and regrets, and just effortlessly drifting through life to its end. I’ve seen various people, so I know.”

After the Hohaku Festival, how Natsume-san and my life or relationship have changed…

“Yokaze, make an excuse to go to the convenience store.”

“Can you just tell me directly what you want? Is there something specific you’re craving?”

“Then, bring me Depas.”

“I’m not familiar, but is that something you can buy at a convenience store?”

“Of course not.”

…nothing has changed. In the end, Natsume-san’s request settled on “Bring me something I can eat with one hand.”

On a certain Sunday. In the days leading up to the summer holidays, irresistible for students, the atmosphere across the school doesn’t slacken… or so it would seem. But that’s not entirely true. Shumonzaka Girls’ Academy students face their own ideas and battles even today.

Among those students, she speaks with the usual nuance.

“How was it?”

She must be asking about the stage experience. I answer simply.

“It was my first experience.”

“Wasn’t that the stage Yokaze was meant for?”

Her assertion remains difficult as ever.

But, I don’t feel any defiance. I understand it’s her way of showing care.

“As my paintbrush, Yokaze traced my drawings and demonstrated the movements. You did a perfect job. It’s because Yokaze has been bestowed with that talent.”

“As always, your words are hard to understand, Natsume-san.”

“Why do I hear that so often?”

I couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

Heading to the washbasin. Half-jokingly, she probably genuinely wanted me to run an errand. So, it means I need to go out, and that means I must get ready, indicating various steps are needed just to step outside the room when living as a girl. It’s become second nature and doesn’t particularly bother me anymore.

And just as I reach for the doorknob to leave—the door opens on its own.

“Huh? Were you heading out?”

The visitor was Komachi-san.

Our relationship hasn’t changed much. If anything, after the Hohaku Festival, we gathered in the room to celebrate each other’s efforts. As team members, we appreciated one another.

Mostly—such experiences were fresh events for me too.

“Good timing. I was about to invite Yokaze-san. A big art museum in the suburbs started an exhibition on architectural art last week. I saw it in a report, and among the exhibits, there’s this crazy room that has incredible oppressive power the moment you step in. Aren’t you curious?”

“It’s hard to follow when you speak all at once… What do you mean by ‘pressure’??”

“In a pentagonal room, each side has a different length. It messes with your sense of depth perception and supposedly creates an unbelievable oppressive feeling. You’re curious, right?”

“Is it really okay for me to see such a thing…?”

“It’d be funny if you suddenly remembered it and your depth perception went haywire!”

“Is that something to laugh about…?”