Lying's an Art, Preparation's the Canvas

Lunch break had just begun, and the classroom buzzed with the usual chaos of overlapping conversations and the scraping of chairs. Some students clustered in tight groups, chattering away about weekend plans, while others filtered out to roam the school grounds. I stayed in my seat, eyes idly fixed on the sports field beyond the window.

Yakishio was out there, jogging in wide arcs around the track, probably doing some form of warm-ups. My focus wasn't really on her, though. My mind was elsewhere.

'What should I do in the summer holiday?'

It was only a few days away, and the idea of going somewhere, or anywhere, sounded appealing. I had the money for it—I just didn't know where to go. 'Oh, the misery.'

I leaned back in my chair, my eyes drifting from the field to the clear blue sky above. A list of possibilities unfolded in my mind. Beaches with white sands, mountains stretching into the heavens, a serene, untouched town far from the city's noise sounds fine. The destination wasn't the hard part—it was the purpose.

My thoughts wandered to the past week, replaying recent events. Some mundane, some noteworthy.

Then, I had a funny realization.

In a way, my goals weren't so different from that man's. Both of us were seeking connection, though for vastly different reasons.

He wanted it for his ambition, to mold me into some kind of leader, a puppet to advance his agenda.

For my part, I wanted it for something simpler. To feel, or perhaps, unlocked certain emotions—just a sense of authenticity. It sounded foolish, maybe even naive, but there's a saying: fake it 'till you make it, and I didn't entirely disbelieve it.

Connection, after all, was just another form of mimicry. A child smiles because they see others do it long before understanding why. Adults aren't so different. They've just grown adept at masking the emptiness when meaning doesn't follow. Maybe no one truly feels the weight of their actions. Maybe it's all mimicry, repeated until it sticks.

A breeze filtered in through the window, carrying with it the faint scent of summer—fresh grass, warming asphalt, a whisper of freedom. It was the kind of air that made people dream of lazy afternoons or fleeting adventures under the sun.

Yet here I was, still planted at my desk, chasing questions I didn't even know how to answer.

What would I fake this summer? And, if luck allowed, what might I actually make of it? Would the days roll forward, slipping into monotony like sand between my fingers?

I didn't know. And perhaps I never would.

"—uh, hey, Ayanokouji-kun."

"Hm?"

I turned my head slightly toward Basori, who sat beside me. Her expression hovered somewhere between hesitant and mildly embarrassed.

"Can you... come with me to the Student Council room right now?"

I raised an eyebrow, puzzled. "Why?"

"Well... Shikiya-senpai said she wanted to talk to you. Something about, uh, a discussion or whatever."

The image of a perpetually listless girl immediately surfaced in my mind.

'I don't remember making any arrangements with her... Actually, why has she been approaching me so much lately? Is it because of this girl, after all?'

"Did she say why? And did you mention something about me to her?"

"W-what are you implying?!"

"She's been unusually interested in me lately. I thought maybe you mentioned my emotionally constipated state to her, and now she thinks we're kindred spirits or something."

"Wha—" her eyes widened in shock. "Ayanokouji-kun, are you actually smart?"

"I'm ranked 23th out of 213 first-year students."

"Wait, you are?!"

"You can check the rankings."

Frankly, being ranked high here didn't really change anything about my school life. Being clever doesn't equate to being popular. Not in this school, and probably not in any school.

"—oh, Shikiya-senpai's already here."

I glanced past Basori toward the classroom door.

"Ah?"

Basori seemed quite surprised by that fact, quickly turning to the door.

Shikiya-senpai walked in with her zombie-like gait—I've always wondered about this; why does she always act that way?

"S-Shikiya-senpai," Basori's tone noticeably confused. "You... got here fast, huh? I thought your class was on the other side of the building."

'The other side of the building?'

It's not 'that' far from our class, but it's not so close that you can walk here in no less than a minute either—well, unless she probably ran or something.

Shikiya-senpai mumbled something in response. "I... just ran."

Oh, she actually did.

Basori let out a surprised "Eh?"

On a closer inspection, I noticed the light sheen of sweat on her face and arms. Did she really do that?

"Do you need some water?" I offered, holding out my bottle.

She nodded faintly and took it from me, drinking it deeply—far too deeply. By the time she handed it back, the bottle was empty.

"Thanks..."

I looked at the empty container in my hand, slightly feeling empty myself.

"—anyway," I said, turning the conversation back to the main issue. "Basori said you wanted to talk to me. What's this about?"

"Would you consider... joining the Student Council...?"

'Straight to the point, huh?'

I glanced at Basori, who avoided my gaze. She didn't look surprised in the slightest. Clearly, she'd been in on this.

"Can we talk about this somewhere else?"

The classroom had mostly emptied by now, with only a few groups gathered at the far ends of the room. Shikiya-senpai's arrival no longer seemed unusual to my classmates. That said, if she kept this up, it was only a matter of time before someone heard us, and this information spread around the school.

It was fine if I accepted the invitation, but if I didn't, it would be rather annoying to deal with later.

"Alright..."

Shikiya-senpai gave a faint nod in response.

"I-I'll be going ahead," Basori stammered before making a hasty retreat.

I didn't pay her departure much mind. I stood and followed Shikiya-senpai out of the classroom.

"...senpai, why did you choose me, anyway?"

As we walked through the empty corridor, I decided to address that question.

"What do you... mean...?"

She didn't even spare a glance at me as she continued walking.

"I mean why me, specifically?" I elaborated. "I believe this is a school filled with people far more interesting or capable. Yet, you came to me."

"There's... no particular reason."

"Really?"

"I just... like you..."

Anyone else might have assumed they misheard or misinterpreted her words—but this was Shikiya-senpai. Her blunt honesty and lack of subtlety made it almost expected.

"How?" I asked. "I can't recall ever doing anything that would make me remotely likeable in your eyes."

"Tiara-chan... didn't tell you?"

"Not directly."

She nodded faintly.

"She told me... about you."

"And you got interested?"

"Yes..."

If I said she's my type, what would her reaction be like?

Well, to be honest, I'd already been considering joining a club, and if I had to pick, the Student Council had always been at the top of my list.

That man had always emphasized the importance of building connections. His grand ambition was for me to one day lead this country, and for that, he needed me to accumulate allies of my own, people who could eventually elevate me to positions of power. Networking was essential for that goal. The Student Council could, depending on the position I hold, be the perfect training ground.

Although, honestly, I don't think he'll left me with no allies from his own if I failed in this school.

In any case, for me personally, joining a club like the Student Council offered a way to fill a gap within myself—where normal emotions should exist—even if just artificially. Pretending to care and to connect—it might eventually lead to something genuine.

'Perhaps, in that way, Shikiya-senpai and I weren't all that different.'

She wanted me to join for reasons she couldn't fully articulate, and I was considering it for reasons I'd never openly admit.

"Senpai, what position would I hold, if you don't mind answer it?"

Shikiya-senpai walked a few steps ahead, her pace unchanging as she answered.

"We're looking for... a General Club Supervisor."

"Isn't that a major role?"

"It is..."

'That's definitely the most fitting for me.'

"Again, why me?"

She tilted her head slightly. "Ayanokouji-kun... you're a mystery. Someone who seems capable of much more... but deliberately chooses not to show it."

"How can you tell that?"

"The President said so... after the incident at the pool the other day."

The pool, huh? That barely counted as an incident.

"Is the President assuming that I could achieve more in other areas as well?"

She nodded.

"We wouldn't be in trouble... even if her assumption is wrong... But if it's right... it would ease the burden on us significantly. Supervising the clubs... especially daily... is difficult with the number of members we have now."

I knew the Student Council consisted of just four members: the President, Vice President, Secretary, and Treasurer. Surprisingly—or maybe unsurprisingly—Basori was the Vice President, while Shikiya-senpai served as Secretary. The Treasurer was someone named Sakurai, apparently the only other guy in the council.

"What kind of 'test' does the President want me to take?" I asked.

"You... want to try?"

"Of course."

She seemed unsure.

"It went without saying," I continued, sensing her hesitation. "I have my reasons for holding back. The same reasons for why I stopped holding back just recently. I can tell you the details, if you wanted."

This marked a turning point in my otherwise monotonous school life. For months, I'd observed everything passively, refusing to engage beyond what was absolutely necessary. But in the last week, I'd begun experimenting—putting my observations into practice. Things might become more interesting now.

"To give you some context," I began, speaking honestly, "aside from my athletic abilities, I've done the same in academics. I can rank in the top ten effortlessly if I feel like it."

Her eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity. "You don't have... to force yourself telling me that."

"I'm not forced."

If I could muster the energy for a small smile, I might have done so.

"I wanted to experience school life as normally as possible-as a normal student. Before this, I was homeschooled. I didn't want to stand out; I just wanted to observe what people my age do in everyday situations before trying it myself." I paused. "but my parents expect something more. Something that requires me to show what I'm capable of eventually. And while I've avoided doing so until now, I know I can't keep laying low forever."

Shikiya-senpai continued hearing me, her usual serene expression slightly cracking under her curiosity.

"Joining an important club like the Student Council," I continued, "is my way of meeting their expectations—or rather, his expectations."

"...is it your father?"

I didn't elaborate further. Instead, I continued walking a bit faster, prompting her to follow.

Letting someone like Shikiya-senpai into even a fraction of my thoughts was already a step further than I intended, but at least it seemed to satisfy her for now.

There was nothing wrong with saying all that. If it still didn't satiate her curiosity, I had backup answers prepared to convince her.

The key here was that I wasn't "elaborating" on the answer I had given earlier; I was "adding" another layer to it.

Although I doubted she would ever figure out the truth behind the details I gave her, it didn't hurt to be cautious. After all, that man had told me to say as little as possible about that place. The answer I had just given her was, in fact, what he had predicted would come up and advised me to use if asked.

'At times, lying's an art, and preparation's the canvas.'

Shikiya-senpai remained silent for a while. I couldn't read her expression.

"...You were observing normal things... that people your age do...?"

"Well, yes, I didn't know how to do them naturally."

Shikiya-senpai opened her mouth, then closed it again, seemingly unsure of how to respond.

"...Is that the reason... you never smile?"

"I don't think that's the only thing I can't do. However, I might be able to fake it."

"Can you try it... for me?"

"That's..."

Now I was the one feeling hesitant. I thought about how, and quickly come up with a simple method.

I raised both of my hands, placing my index fingers at the corners of my lips—and pulled them upward. Shikiya-senpai's lips twitched slightly while watching me.

"That looked... odd..."

"Right."

I lowered my fingers.

Unsurprisingly, my cheeks felt sore. Maybe I should practice smiling in a way that didn't rely solely on curving my lips, but also involved engaging the muscles around my eyes, making sure my expression looked genuine—even if it wasn't. That would make it easier to act better—or to trick other people.

"I technically smiled," I said. "though it's not perfect, it's still a smile. Now it's your turn."

She hesitated for a moment before finally following my suggestion.

"That wasn't bad at all."

Shikiya-senpai quickly pulled her fingers away, covering her face with her bangs.

"That... was embarrassing..."

"You don't need to hide it—that was cute."

Her shoulders trembled slightly at my cheesy remark. For a moment, I almost gave in to the urge to brush aside her bangs and see her "expression" of embarrassment.

Of course, I didn't do that. It would have been rude.