— Mmm… Listen, Ohayashi-kun, do you happen to know our principal's name? — I asked.
The opening ceremony had just ended, and Raidon and I, having stepped out into the inner courtyard, were standing right by the exit.
— Uh-uh-uh… — The guy looked at me with a surprised and suspicious expression. — Koyama Kenta. Strange that you don't know that, being their neighbor.
— Right, right. Koyama Kenta, — I muttered thoughtfully. — You see, I didn't even suspect he was Dakishuro's principal, so I was hoping I'd imagined him.
— Hoping? — the brunet asked in surprise.
— Ah, don't mind it, my relationship with the Koyama family is a little complicated.
— I see. Better tell me what you're going to do now. Going home, or shall we wander around the school some more?
— What could possibly be interesting here? And if there is something, we'll see it sooner or later anyway.
— Sakurai-kun, did you forget that joining a school club is mandatory? And today happens to be the club presentations. We should walk around and take a look.
— Clubs… — My face twisted. — How could I forget? — A trace of irritation slipped naturally into my voice.
I had nothing against school clubs; they simply didn't interest me, so I used to ignore them. But in Dakishuro that sort of thing was mandatory, and that was exactly why it irritated me. I could find a much more rational use for those several hours a day that club activities would take up.
— Judging by your face, you're not exactly eager to join anything, — Raidon said with a snort. — Any reason? Or are you just lazy?
— You see, it's not that I think the idea is pointless — quite the opposite — but I already have things to do. So I just hate wasting my time on a school club.
— Hmm, I get it. In that case, you need to choose something… — he snapped his fingers, — unusual. In this school, if not all, then very many clubs take an active part in competitions, exhibitions, and presentations. Dakishuro supports clubs in that with all its might. So you need to choose one that simply has no opportunity to go anywhere and perform anywhere. Something like… well, I don't know, an occult sciences club.
— No freaking way, does something like that really exist?
— How should I know? Maybe it does. I was just using it as an example. Or maybe you'll find a club where minimal participation is allowed. In any case, we need to look.
— Well then, let's go loo—
I was interrupted by a girl who, running past, slammed into my shoulder. The impact spun her around a full one hundred and eighty degrees. When she stopped, she was face-to-face with us. And she looked pretty surprised. Wonder why.
Although the first thing that caught the eye wasn't the expression on her face, but her hair. Green hair. Sharp chin, snub nose, neat little lips, emerald-colored eyes — overall, she was quite good-looking. But that green monstrosity on her head, tied into two long tails, seriously irritated the eye and distracted from everything else.
Then the surprise vanished from her face, replaced by irritation.
— Have you lost all fear, you little bastard, standing in the middle of the road? People are walking here, you know.
I raised my eyebrows in surprise and looked around demonstratively. Raidon and I were standing by the curb, on the right side of the road.
— Excuse me? — I asked again.
— You. Are. In. My. Way. Who the hell are you anyway?
I was so dumbfounded I actually answered:
— Sakurai Shinji.
— Hey, aren't you that weakling Koyama was lecturing this morning?
Well, here we go. Looks like I'm becoming famous. What kind of day is this… long.
— And with whom, exactly, do I have the honor…
— That's none of your business, you nobody! Better answer why you're blocking my way!
Mm, I really wanted to swear.
— What a well-bred girl. Which is no surprise, with a hair color like that.
I think I even managed to throw her off.
— What do my hair have to do with anything?
— Oh, they just reminded me of Amsterdam.
— What? — she asked in confusion.
— Nothing, nothing, just me thinking my own girlish thoughts. — And nudging Raidon forward, I decided to end the conversation. — Well then, we'll be going. All the best.
We had just managed to take a couple of steps past her when the green-haired girl snapped out of it.
— Hey, stop right there! I haven't dismissed you yet! — we heard behind our backs.
Dismissed us? Who the hell was she to speak to me in that tone? Spinning around sharply and almost instantly stepping right up to her, I literally hissed in her face:
— If you, madam, don't understand polite language, then I'll put it another way: piss off, trash!
And, satisfied by the expression of surprise and confusion on her face, I went back to Raidon:
— Come on, finally. Let's take a look at the clubs here.
Once we had put a decent distance between ourselves and the stunned girl, Raidon asked:
— Sakurai-kun, I'm curious — what's the connection between her hair color and Amsterdam?
— I've never been there myself, but I once read that the prostitutes there wear bright green wigs. Like a sign of the profession. — And, by the way, I wasn't lying. In this world, hookers really do wear green wigs. True, only in Amsterdam. Well, maybe that exists in other places too, but I've never heard of it. In this world, unnatural hair color is generally popular, which I don't understand. Although I suppose I phrased that wrong — it's not some fashion trend. Blue, green, pink. Those colors are just as familiar and natural here as natural blond, black, or red hair. It's not as if the entire population of this world walks around with multicolored hair, no. But there are enough of those oddballs too.
— Hmm, that was a good one. I ought to remember that.
The road we were walking on led directly to two buildings connected by a passageway at the level of the second floor. And that, as a passing third-year had told us, was where the presentation was taking place. To our left stood a long five-story building, and to the right a smaller three-story one. Groups of students were bustling about the courtyard, setting up tables, chairs, and stands. They were carrying posters, installing platforms and display boards. And judging by the speed everyone was moving, in twenty minutes or so they'd be ready to present their clubs.
— So, shall we go inside? There's no point waiting until they're ready, — Raidon suggested.
— Aren't they all going to be outside?
— No, of course not. Only the loudest ones are here, like the music clubs, and the ones whose presentation won't fit into a club room.
And the bustle only kept increasing. A girl with pale pink hair and an armful of some rolled-up things ran past us. Right in the middle of the courtyard, next to a pile of boards, two guys were arguing, and not far from them a third one was lying on the ground with a girl in some kind of gothic dress straddling him, slapping him across the face.
The first place we visited was the five-story building with two exits on different sides and ends. Entering the nearest one, we saw a staircase leading straight ahead to the second floor, and to the right there were glass doors opening into a wide corridor that ran through the entire building.
Ah, spring. Sakura petals, air filled with freedom and beginnings, a mood trembling with anticipation. You may ask what suddenly made me start talking about that. It's very simple: the very first sign we saw said, "Spring Madness Club." And that was the first club I saw in Dakishuro School. And though I don't get why anyone would tie a club name to a specific season, I was curious what was hiding behind such a sign.
The doors in that building slid sideways, so, easily sliding one open, I just as easily — but much faster — shut it again.
— I didn't see anything, — I told Raidon as seriously as possible. — And I advise you to do the same.
Already approaching the next one, with the sign "Friends Club," I heard behind me the sound of a sliding door opening, and then a moment later the click of it closing, the sound of approaching footsteps, and Raidon's voice:
— I didn't see anything either.
True men really do all have the exact same attitude toward homo stuff. So, exchanging a glance, we turned around and went straight to the second floor.
All in all, it took us a little over an hour to walk through all five — no, four — floors of the building. And let me tell you, it was fun. In the robotics club, they had somehow managed to take part in a battle of tiny robots. Both lost. They even had a paleontology club there with quite an impressive collection of dinosaur bones. I even considered joining the linguists, but after looking at the club schedule, I changed my mind. There were just too many trips, visits, lectures, meetings with representatives of other schools, and ordinary club gatherings planned. In short, far too intense a schedule.
Overall, the number and variety were simply enormous. We even stumbled across a bottle-cap collectors' club, though to join it you had to bring a cap they didn't already have, and I was too lazy to bother looking for one.
Just as we were leaving, having still chosen nothing, I suggested we at least make a quick run through the first floor just for form's sake. And imagine my surprise when we came across a sign reading: "Occult Sciences Club."
— Look at that, — I nudged Raidon. — That crap really does exist here.
— I honestly didn't know, — he said in surprise. — I didn't think they had anything like that here. I just blurted it out at random.
— Doesn't matter, — I said, glancing around. — I'm not joining any club on this floor no matter what. Let's get out of here.
The first thing that caught the eye when we came out of the building was a platform on which some club was putting on a costumed performance. Though it was more like a pantomime, since we didn't hear any words. Still, it was interesting overall. A little farther off and to the right was a pretty decent track built for little radio-controlled cars, along which at least twenty existing and nonexistent models of various automobiles were darting around.
— All right, — I sighed, — let's go look at the martial arts clubs. You said you wanted to join one of them, right?
— You sure? We haven't even seen everything in the courtyard yet, and there's still the second building, — the guy replied, nodding toward it. — Or have you already chosen where you'll go?
— Nah, I'm just tired of this. There's still time, so I'll look around and choose. Later.
— I see, — the brunet drawled. — In that case, if you want, we can just head home. I picked mine a long time ago anyway. All that's left is to come by and sign up, but I can do that tomorrow.
— Why's that? And where, by the way?
— They've got no time for that today, they're doing demonstrations. No one accepts new members on the first day — I asked my sister. I want to join the fencing club — I can learn hand-to-hand combat at home. Expanding my horizons, so to speak.
— Right, I get it now. Well then, let's head for the exit.
A pink-haired girl ran past us. With rolls of paper.
— Has she really been running back and forth like that this whole time? — I smirked.
At that moment we heard a loud… squeak, I'd say, behind us. And turning around, we saw the girl sprawled out on the asphalt, with a pile of paper rolls all around her.
I should probably help, or she'll get trampled, I thought, but I didn't get the chance to do anything. It took the girl literally two seconds to gather up the scattered things, spring to her feet, and run off on her business. As the paratroopers say: five hundred one, five hundred two — go!
— Well, damn…
— Experience, apparently.
Well, maybe so. In any case, the speed of what had just happened impressed me quite a bit. It was fast, precise, and funny.
When we were almost out of the courtyard, a small crowd of students blocked our way, which, of course, wasn't fatal, but was a little irritating. The ones they were watching were standing near the road. It was a group of schoolgirls with musical instruments. Their drummer, by the way, was a guy, I think. Only he looked kind of… girlish. What kind of school is this, anyway? Though the girls looked pretty good, like most of the local ones.
— Shall we listen? They're about to start, — Raidon asked.
We might as well, we weren't in a hurry anyway.
— Sure. Let's check out the local beauties.
And the beauties, by the way, were dressed in some kind of fantasy costumes. Or rather, anime-fantasy ones?
I didn't recognize the opening instrumental. Not that I was much of a music lover, but I did have some chance of recognizing it. But as I listened to the song itself, I gradually fell into stunned silence. And it wasn't because the lead singer was singing in Russian — that was perfectly normal in this world: Russian here was just as popular as English or German, by the way. What stunned me was the lyrics themselves. I was one hundred percent sure a song like that had existed in my world! Hell, I even remembered the name of the poet! Sure, I'd heard songs similar to the ones they sang in my world, but for one to be absolutely identical — that was a first. "Two stood by the stream, by the mountain stream…" Oleg Ladyzhensky, if memory serves. In my world, at least. Heh, though who am I to speak of astonishing coincidences? What's astonishing is that this is the first time I've ever run into something like that. In the details, this world and my old one really are very similar.
And by the way, the girl had a very nice voice. And her accent was almost inaudible. And the rest had pretty decent faces too. Except for the drummer. And…
— O-o-oh… I think I've come up with something.
— You mean about a club? Just don't tell me you've decided to join this group, — he said, looking at me. — You'll have no time left for yourself at all in a music club, — and at last he asked the question that really should have come first: — Can you actually play anything? Or sing?
— Both. But then, just like you said, I'd have no time left for myself at all. No-o-o. I came up with something else. Let's not talk about it right now, — I can't be bothered explaining. — I don't want to jinx it. But if it works out, I won't be showing up there often.
— All right, if you say so… But the moment it happens, tell me right away.
Raidon really is the right kind of guy — he doesn't pry, doesn't pester. He showed interest, and that was it.
— You'll be the first person I tell everything to. Actually, we should probably look into this whole club thing and gather some information, so to speak. Maybe there's some other way to get out of it.
— That's unlikely, — my friend shook his head. — If there is any information on how to dodge it, the students probably don't know it. And the ones who do know… We don't know people like that.
— You're forgetting who my neighbors are, — I snorted.
— The principal, right, of course. But he might not be willing to talk.
— That family owes me now. So I'll just see how he tries to wriggle out of it.
— Mmm… You probably know better, — the young aristocrat said uncertainly.
— Right, right. Come on, let's finally get out into the open.
And, cutting across the lawn to avoid the crowd of students blocking the asphalt path, we headed toward the school exit.
At the school gates Raidon stopped.
— So where are you headed now? — he asked.
— Just straight down the road. I live nearby.
— Lucky. I'm on the other side of the city. I'm going that way, — he waved his hand left, — to the parking lot.
— Rich boy, huh? — I teased him. — Don't the traffic jams get in the way?
— Don't remind me. I've got a feeling I'll have to start taking the subway.
— In our subway at rush hour? My sympathies.
— I told you, don't remind me.
— Why not rent an apartment closer by, then?
— Mmm… You see, there are a couple of details. First of all, good luck renting anything here — this is an elite district. — Well, would you look at that. I've lived here for so many years and only now find out about it. — And second, who's going to teach and train me then? My parents are at home, after all. And I need a range, a training hall, equipment, in the end.
Right, right. He's clan aristocracy. Martial arts are everything to them. Family techniques, secret moves, and all that. And not just martial arts either — as an aristocrat, he's being taught a great many things.
— Uh-huh, I see. Well, I don't bother with that stuff. All that nonsense about controlling external energy and the great martial arts isn't for me. I'd rather spend that time checking the Net again, — since I make a fair amount of money with its help.
— That's where you're wrong, every man shou—
— Ugh, let's not start on that, the Koyamas have already blasted my brain enough as it is.
— As you wish. But even once, not being able to stand up for yourself can break your whole life.
— And who said I can't stand up for myself? — I smirked.
— Uh-uh… Mmm… — I'm sure he could've argued plenty in response, because martial arts in this world are inseparably tied to bahir energy — external energy (or, in full, bahiranga-shakti — the external energy of the Lord) — but breeding didn't let him. Aristocracy. — Well, you probably know better. All right, I'm off. I've still got a long way home.
Having said our goodbyes, we each headed in our own direction.
Funny thing is, technically nothing much happened today; in fact, we did nothing all day. And yet I managed to learn so much new and vitally important information that my head was practically swelling from thoughts. I simply needed to sit down, relax, and think over everything I'd learned today. So, the sooner back to my place, the better. Home sweet home. Grab a bite, make some tea… take a slight detour on the way home and buy something to go with the tea, and then calmly think through what exactly I was supposed to do with all of this now.
And pushing the unnecessary thoughts aside, while shoving the necessary ones farther back for later, I headed home.