CH#304
#304
On the TV installed in the AV room, footage of past farewell parties was playing.
After gathering the DVDs for reference materials on the desk and arranging them neatly, I found myself alone in the deserted room after school, staring at the screen in front of me.
Whether it was last year, the year before, or even several years ago, the farewells for the graduating seniors followed a similar format.
Routine, tradition, those words came to mind.
It’s not necessarily a bad thing; sticking to a single theme allows us to allocate resources more efficiently, resulting in a simple yet high-quality event.
In a sense, it’s the established form.
Considering this, I can easily imagine the format of past farewell parties.
First, the third-year students enter the gymnasium where the entire school is assembled.
The vice principal delivers an opening speech, followed by a congratulatory address from the school principal. Since the principal will also deliver a speech at the graduation ceremony, this one is kept brief.
Since the farewell party is the last chance for third-year students and current students to meet, the teachers keep their remarks to a minimum.
Then, a representative from the second-year students delivers words of celebration, followed by a message from the third-year students to the current students.
Since Koizumi has been entrusted with delivering the student representative speech at the graduation ceremony, the role of representative in this case is not limited to the student council president.
Finally, bouquets are presented to the third-year students, and that concludes the proceedings.
It’s simple and neither particularly good nor bad.
Both the senders and the recipients seem satisfied, achieving a passing grade, so to speak.
In fact, attempting to change things might risk making a negative impression.
From a different perspective, it’s called tradition because it garners a certain amount of approval.
This time around, there’s no need for anything outlandish.
That’s exactly why it’s difficult.
Even if we were to dance or perform a comedy routine, if what’s required is not laughter but memories, it would be counterproductive.
Do I lack knowledge? Creativity? Time?
Do I need something closer to the spontaneous ideas of students who live for the moment, like those carefree students who would dismiss this as unnecessary?
As I pondered, only the risks associated with the ideas that came to mind flashed through my mind.
“What’s up? Have you found any good ideas?”
“…Not at all. This is a situation where I really need more manpower.”
Hino-kun, entering the AV room, immediately posed this question.
He was carrying a mountain of materials in his hands.
In the AV room, where mainly videos are stored, Hino-kun was in charge of transporting materials to the staff room, where past photos and other items are kept.
As he spread out the photos on the desk, one by one, it became apparent that scenes deviating from the norm, like those in the videos, were not captured.
As Hino-kun looked over the footage, I realized the same as I had seen before.
Then, he raised a question.
“Are these students wearing armbands the current students who volunteered for the farewell party?”
“Probably. They’re different from the ones the student council wears, and I’ve seen a few students wearing them in other footage… I think the teachers can bring them if we ask.”
The orange armbands are not used by the student council. They were likely provided at some point to make it easier for the volunteers to move around.
…Since I might be wandering around the school for a while, it might be a good idea to have one just in case.
I’ll keep it in the back of my mind. In the meantime, since no ideas are coming to mind as I search through the materials, it wouldn’t hurt to make progress on small tasks.
Arranging the student layout in the gymnasium, calculating and acquiring supplies… There’s plenty to do even with a small number of people.
For now, let’s proceed with the detailed work while gathering people and compiling ideas… That seems to be the only option at the moment.
“Despite the issues with numbers and ideas, let’s focus on what we can do now… Fortunately, Koizumi said I only need to show up at the student council after school, so it’s easy to move around.”
“Yeah, I’m fine with not having much to do in the student council…”
“Let’s start by going to the gymnasium to confirm the layout for the day.”
“I didn’t hear anything…”
Picking up the necessary materials, I stopped the video that was playing and got up from my seat.
Since we need to lock the AV room door before leaving, I let Hino-kun go ahead.
As I closed and locked the door, I heard a voice from the left.
Turning around, I saw Kirasaka standing there, brushing back her slightly longer black hair.
“So, it’s true that Hino-kun is the only participating student?”
“Kirasaka… You’re still at school?”
“I was looking for interesting books in the library. But really, with only two weeks left until the farewell party, can you two handle it?”
Kirasaka looked at Hino-kun, who was standing just behind me, with a mix of curiosity and concern evident in her voice.
Perhaps she had come to check on us before leaving.
I tightly shut my slightly opened mouth in response to her seemingly intriguing yet worrisome tone.
Having only me and Hino-kun seems like a severe lack of manpower… I almost said the usual excuse, but I couldn’t make excuses. I had decided to participate myself, despite the unexpected situation of student participation.
From Kirasaka’s perspective, it’s hard to believe that we’ll be able to pull it off even if I said we would.
Perhaps she came to lend a hand.
But that wouldn’t make much sense.
“Oh, sorry to bother. I’ll head to the gym first.”
“My bad… I’ll catch up soon.”
Looking uncomfortable, Hino-kun bowed slightly to Kirasaka before hurrying off towards the gym.
Since there was nothing to do and no atmosphere for casual conversation, he probably wanted to leave quickly.
As I watched his back for a few seconds before turning my gaze back, Kirasaka, who had taken a step forward, came into view.
She peered into my eyes, as if trying to discern my intentions, causing me to instinctively avert my gaze.
“I’ll help too. Akane-san is included in the graduating class, after all.”
Kirasaka smiled gently and extended her right hand.
Her expression conveyed kindness towards the offered hand.
Without realizing it, I started to reach out with my right arm, but kept it by my side and shook my head.
“Nah… This is something I have to do on my own. It wouldn’t mean anything if I didn’t finish it without relying on you or Shizuku.”
“…Was that something someone told you?”
“No, it’s not… It’s something I thought of myself.”
At her inquiry, I responded promptly.
Kirasaka narrowed her eyes at my words.
It wasn’t a convincing denial like a hermit’s denial without explaining the reason.
From the perspective of someone who had extended their hand to help a friend, being rejected could evoke discomfort.
My actions were just empty boasts when put into words.
Just empty words of idealism for their sake and for our future.
“It’s not like you, Minato-kun… We’re more than willing to help you.”
From Kirasaka’s perspective, I must be taking on an impossible task.
In reality, I couldn’t imagine successfully completing it at all.
And then, bearing the responsibility of running the farewell party as the representative of the current students.
I could easily envision the reproach from the students.
A sad smile on her face, Kirasaka turned back and disappeared around the corner of the hallway, but not before smiling once more.
Was it because of my past actions?
Lately, it felt like my own inadequacies and apologies to those around me had accumulated like a weight on my shoulders.
Whether the outcome waiting for me would be fortunate or unfortunate.
Regardless, I couldn’t allow myself to stop this path that I had already started.