V6Ch4: Snow and Ink part 1

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Translator: Soafp

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That day, Kazuhiro Okamoto experienced the first failure of his life.

The people he thought were his friends abandoned him without a second thought. When he tried to speak to them, all he received were contemptuous glares and voices full of blame.

—In just one day, Kazuhiro Okamoto became completely alone.

Friendship was nothing more than an illusion. The cold, hateful stares of the traitors clung to his mind and wouldn't let go. He saw the filthy true nature of people. Not a single person reached out to him.

The nightmare never ended. He was trapped in an eternal prison.

Bound by the evil known as “social pressure,” unable to move a muscle, he continued to suffer.

And so, Kazuhiro Okamoto was erased from the class. He was reduced to someone who didn't exist.

No one looked at him. No one heard his voice. Day after day, he was treated as if he wasn't there.

It was humiliating. Even as a child, the pride he held was torn to shreds.

He was excluded. Cast out. But wasn't that strange? Okamoto felt a sense of doubt. There had been another student who was also ostracized. Yet unlike him, that person was treated with care and remained at the center of the class. As if to say it was actually they who were ignoring everyone else.

Did I do something that terrible?

Did I deserve to be hated that much?

No matter how hard he thought about it—until his feverish brain screamed from overthinking—he always arrived at the same conclusion.

—They were the ones who destroyed his life.

A senior and a respected newcomer had built such a close relationship.

Everything had been going so well. Misaki Himiyama was exceptional to begin with, and in that nurturing environment, she was able to carry out her student teaching in a relaxed and fulfilling way. The time she spent with the students was always full of smiles and comfort.

“Um, sensei. Could you help me with this problem?”

“Sure. Here's how you solve it—”

Her gentle voice eased the tension. Whenever someone didn't understand a problem, she would kindly explain it.

Okamoto nodded along earnestly, though deep inside he couldn't suppress his fluttering nerves. She was an adult woman, exuding a mature charm completely different from that of a mother. Okamoto felt a stirring, a first-time thrill that electrified him.

After school, when he returned from the library, the classroom was empty.

He picked up his backpack, ready to head home. He liked that he could leave whenever he wanted. Okamoto never cared much for going to and from school in large groups. Meeting up at a fixed place and walking together felt like a waste of time. Most of the others were upperclassmen, and being around them made him uncomfortable. As a shy child, he didn't have any older students he could talk to easily. For an elementary schooler, grade-level boundaries felt like massive walls.

As he turned to leave the classroom, his eyes landed on the teacher's desk.

Maybe Misaki Himiyama had been there earlier—some of her belongings were left there haphazardly.

“This is…”

He hadn't felt any wicked intentions. He just kind of… picked it up.

For some reason, a strange excitement welled up inside him. Maybe the quiet, empty classroom made the situation feel extra “special,” like he was doing something he shouldn't.

He held the item up.

That alone made Kazuhiro Okamoto happy.

A precious treasure.

Holding it made him believe he was someone special in this world.

“…!”

Footsteps echoed in the hallway a short while later. Click-clack, click-clack. He stiffened.

Was Misaki Himiyama coming back?

All he had to do was put her things back where he found them—but his panicked, confused mind wouldn't let him think straight.

Driven by anxiety, he instinctively shoved the item into the nearest desk.

“You should head home before it gets too late. Be careful on your way back.”

“Y-Yes!”

It was just the vice principal walking by. He was the type to often speak kindly to students, so Okamoto had greeted him a few times before. Relieved it wasn't Misaki Himiyama, the excitement from earlier froze over like cold water had been dumped on him.

He couldn't afford to do anything suspicious.

His heart pounded violently in his chest. His breathing became rough. His pupils dilated.

Trying to hide his guilt, he pretended to be packing up quickly.

He shoved the item he'd taken into the desk and dashed out into the hallway. He'd get in trouble if he was caught, but fortunately the vice principal was already gone.

He just wanted to get away from there as fast as possible.

(…Whose desk was that again?)

That question crossed his mind as he ran, but by the time he reached home, he had completely forgotten.

---

[Akari third person POV]

For Akari Kazahaya, the boy who became her seatmate after the seat rearrangement was a “difficult person.”

He wasn't the type to actively get along with classmates and was often alone.

Several groups had naturally formed, but he didn't belong to any of them. Not that it was unusual—every class had a certain number of people like that.

He always gave off a tense, hard-to-approach vibe. Even sitting next to him, there wasn't much conversation. However, he wasn't exactly unfriendly; when spoken to, he answered normally. Though often his replies were complicated and hard to understand…

Just recently, he muttered something like “Why is the civet not actually a cat?” But since it has “cat” in its name, of course it's a cat. Maybe he seemed smart but actually wasn't so much. He was bad at studying. That gave Akari a slight feeling of kinship.

In short, “a little strange but interesting person” was her impression—a typical classmate, quiet and harmless.

—or so she thought.

Akari Kazahaya watched her neighbor nervously.

Some time had passed since the “purge,” and the classroom had returned to a state of calm. But that was only on the surface. The power balance inside the classroom had drastically changed in just a few days.

The once brazen group led by the mischievous Kousuke Takayama was nowhere to be seen, and the root cause, Kazuhiko Okamoto, was absent from school.

An eerie silence dominated the classroom. The homeroom teacher was unreliable.

It was the homeroom teacher, Suzuka Sanjoji, who had caused the situation to escalate—and everyone knew it.

The violent storm that had swept through still remained vivid in Akari's mind.

The expressionless figure ruthlessly crushing enemies. Now, those eyes were directed at everyone.

She shrank in fear. The ominous pressure from beside her made it hard to breathe. She wanted to escape immediately and asked to change seats—but the last change had just happened.

If she could only get away from Yukito Kokonoe, the embodiment of a demon, she would gladly take the unpopular front-row seat.

How had things come to this? Why had she carelessly attacked?

Repeated failures. Akari regretted her thoughtless, foolish decisions.

The intern teacher Misaki Himiyama's belongings had been stolen—and the culprit was Yukito Kokonoe.

Stealing someone else's things was disgusting. According to the sense of right and wrong, and ethics she had learned so far, it was bad. Her impression downgraded from “strange person” to “villain” along with her disappointment.

Above all, the fact that even when caught, there was no apology—that was unforgivable. Even after Sanjoji had extended a hand, he stubbornly rejected it. There was no way to get along with someone like that.

There were more than enough reasons to hate him. And because she hated him, conflicts that hadn't existed during indifference flared up. Good riddance. Every move was unpleasant and irritating.

If you do wrong, you should be punished. That was the rule she vaguely recognized.

She had never seen it, but in an old anime, a student who was scolded by the teacher was made to stand in the hallway holding a bucket. There was no discomfort with that image. She felt relieved at the divine punishment.

That was the right thing, and no one doubted it. So she never reconsidered.

She refused to listen to anything. Confessions were forced, and no explanations were accepted.

What took place was a classroom trial with a 100% conviction rate. Suzuka Sanjoji, the homeroom teacher, the intern teacher Misaki Himiyama, and the classmates—all intoxicated with their own righteousness and justice. Without ever questioning justice.

Justice had the right to punish evil. The absolute law of good triumphing over evil. Therefore, it was uncontrollable.

Until that moment, Akari Kazahaya had been justice itself. Proudly standing as the executor condemning evil.

The harassment against Yukito Kokonoe gradually intensified. It was inevitable. Yukito Kokonoe was at fault for never apologizing. Justifying their attacks this way, the cruelty escalated.

They never thought of it as bullying. But unexpectedly, he fought back.

It was unforeseen, but they rallied themselves. They couldn't lose. This wasn't bullying. It was a battle between justice and evil. Kousuke and the others thought the same. In fact, everyone involved strongly believed in their own legitimacy—unaware that it would all crumble like a castle made of sand.

The slippers disappeared from the shoe rack. Among them were Akari Kazahaya's slippers.

There was no need to say who committed the crime. Even when confronted, he remained calm.

The enraged Kousuke and others cornered them, and Akari, furious, pulled the trigger of the conflict.

The result of the fight was something she never wanted to remember. She was incited to fight and beaten. Justice was defeated.

She was stunned, but her values were about to be overturned from the foundation up.

Learning the truth, Akari's spirit broke. The belief she had held, even as a child, collapsed.

The homeroom teacher, who was supposed to be the absolute authority ruling the classroom, was scolded by the vice principal. The tide had turned.

The many against the few. The blade wielded by the group was not a righteous sword, but a distorted, vicious one.

However, Akari, along with the others, resisted admitting she was the villain.

She wanted to remain justice itself. Because this was exactly why evil must always lose.

She was different from the adults Suzuka Sanjoji and Misaki Himiyama. Her immature mind sought a new target.

“It's your fault, damn it!”

It was only natural for hostility to be directed at Kazuhiko Okamoto, who had caused the false accusation.

No one could stop it. Even if they tried, it was meaningless. It was all because of what Kazuhiko Okamoto had done—and everyone who followed him was responsible. Still, they pretended not to notice.

And so, Kazuhiko Okamoto was expelled from the class and lost his place.

---

“What a terrible face… I definitely can't show this to the children,”

Suzuka Sanjoji muttered to herself with a self-deprecating tone as she looked at her dull reflection in the mirror.

She felt as if she had aged suddenly. Even though it was before going to work, she couldn't get into the mood. She drank a stocked energy drink. Although she tried to get proper sleep, her rest was shallow.

Excessive stress was surely eating away at her body. She struggled to keep from staggering.

Every day was filled with worries. Of course, it was all her own fault, and she had no excuse.

But maybe that was for the best. Her shallow sense of justice had been easily shattered.

No one would be convinced by superficial words that merely parade nice phrases. Ignorance and folly—fitting for herself.

In retrospect, Suzuka Sanjoji thought that perhaps, at this very moment, she was finally facing education properly for the first time in her life. This was a trial. Beyond this trial lay the future.

Some time had passed since the intern teacher Misaki Himiyama left, but they still kept in touch.

Though the practicum period was fixed, Misaki Himiyama was deeply burdened by guilt for having abandoned things in the worst circumstances. She had dumped the aftermath on Suzuka Sanjoji and tried to flee from the difficulty.

A sharp regret. Especially since the cause was her feelings of affection for Misaki Himiyama.

The school gave Misaki Himiyama a grade of ‘C.' If not for that incident, she would surely have received an ‘A.' This was a lenient measure to avoid crushing young talent, but if Misaki Himiyama had received an ‘F' (‘D'), Suzuka Sanjoji would have received the same grade.

Although the final evaluation was decided by the university, Suzuka Sanjoji knew that grade meant nothing. Because Misaki Himiyama had given up on becoming a teacher.

Regret that would last forever. A growing sense of apology. If only she had gone to another class or school, she would surely have continued straight on the path of teaching—the very vocation that suited her.

Fate had been twisted. A turning point in life—no, a blackout. She mocked herself.

She had been shallow. She had underestimated the situation and continued making wrong choices. Hollow self-reproach.

Looking back, she had never clearly confronted anyone in her life.

Suzuka Sanjoji had never fought. As a child, there were people she disliked. Even so, she had never been bullied, nor had she ever joined in bullying.

That might have been her pride, something she could live on with her head held high.

So she didn't understand. How could she repair these broken relationships?

Classroom collapse. The worst possible situation to avoid, yet no solution came to mind.

Repeated self-questioning. She was trapped in a labyrinth of suspicion and doubt. She had come to distrust her own judgment, fearing she would err again. Her beliefs crumbled fleetingly.

—Could they really reconcile?

The classroom atmosphere was terrible. There was no sign of improvement.

She tried various things, but they all ended in failure, wasted efforts.

What had happened in the class wasn't bullying or anything like that. It was simply an unfair attack, which backfired. They tried to hurt someone one-sidedly, only to be crushed in return. That was all.

It wasn't even a fight. There is a saying “both parties are at fault in a fight,” but would punishing someone solve anything? She didn't know. She didn't even know if there was a solution. Overwhelmed with the aftermath, she spent her days dazed.

“We can't stay like this forever.”

Her duty and sense of mission as the homeroom teacher were the only things she could cling to.

Besides, she thought that perhaps she herself was the one who deserved to be punished. She had no choice but to accept this agonizing time as her given punishment.

When she arrived at school, Suzuka Sanjoji steeled herself. Kazuhiko Okamoto was also attending school today.

Strictly speaking, he hadn't appeared in the classroom. His situation now was even more severe than when Yukito Kokonoe was isolated. For some reason, Yukito Kokonoe seemed indifferent, but Kazuhiko Okamoto, who caused the class collapse, was fiercely hated and rejected by classmates like a raging fire.

Considering his physical and mental burden, it was best to avoid direct confrontation with classmates.

There was only one way to break this deadlock—reconciliation with Yukito Kokonoe.

If their relationship improved, and the two could become friends like elementary school kids, it would surely dispel the stagnant atmosphere covering the class.

Eventually, improvement with Takayama and the others, whose pride had been broken, could also be expected.

From Suzuka Sanjoji's perspective, Kazuhiko Okamoto was deeply remorseful. He was tormented by guilt.

He hadn't intended harm. He had just been scared by the expanding commotion and didn't speak up.

Having partly shared responsibility, Suzuka Sanjoji sympathized with Kazuhiko Okamoto.

She desperately wanted to save him from the hellish situation he was trapped in.

(Those eyes… so frightening.)

The sticking point was Yukito Kokonoe. A troublesome problem child who would stop at nothing.

Though her future seemed uncertain, Suzuka Sanjoji couldn't take full responsibility for him. At this point, Sanjoji held little good impression of Kokonoe in her heart.

Determined never to repeat the same mistake twice, Sanjoji called the two into a separate room. The first failure had been confronting Kokonoe under the watchful eyes of everyone.

Beforehand, Sanjoji had instructed Kazuhiko Okamoto clearly: the first thing was to apologize.

No excuses were necessary. No self-justification. Okamoto might have his reasons, but those didn't belong in the reconciliation setting. All that mattered was showing a sincere attitude.

Otherwise, the feelings of someone falsely accused like Okamoto wouldn't be eased.

“I'm sorry!”

“I apologize.”

Okamoto bowed his head and apologized. Immediately, Sanjoji also bent deeply and lowered her head.

No amount of apologies was enough. It was the price to pay for wounding the pure and delicate hearts of young children.

There was no reply. When she looked up, Kokonoe was simply watching them.

(What is that gaze seeing…?)

It showed no emotion whatsoever. The pitch-black emptiness deep inside stirred a strange unease.

“Let's make up, shall we?”

She proposed anxiously. But this had to be done.

If she could get through this crucial moment, Sanjoji would surely grow greatly.

She reached out her hand to shake. Once more, saying “I'm sorry,” Okamoto also extended his hand. He was such a good, honest kid—much more straightforward and easy to understand than Kokonoe.

The usually inaudible ticking of the clock felt unusually loud. Time was slowly passing.

“Kokonoe-kun?”

Growing impatient, Sanjoji called his name. Somewhere in her heart, she thought Kokonoe must also be confused about the current situation, hoping to settle things and wanting to do something. That was what she believed. But—

“No, I don't want to.”

Her plan crumbled instantly. The words were unnervingly casual, completely out of place.

Flustered, she couldn't get the right words out. She had expected things might not go smoothly. Okamoto and she had talked about the possibility of being scolded harshly here. This was a place to accept everything Kokonoe wanted to say—open up, speak honestly. That was the process to reconciliation.

Only then would the path to the future open. That was what she believed.

“Do I have to forgive someone just because they apologize? We're not even the kind of people who should make up.”

Kokonoe asked with a blank expression, as if casually posing a question like “Why did the dinosaurs go extinct?” This wasn't a question to be answered with “Because of a meteor.”

“Kokonoe-kun. Let's stop being stubborn, okay? We're apologizing like this—”

Her words stopped. Sanjoji realized the ridiculous excuse.

What was the point of apologizing? Clinging to the other's goodwill just because you said sorry. That was far from a solution. If that were enough, there'd be no need for prison sentences or fines in the world.

Kokonoe opened a compact mirror from his pocket and examined his face carefully.

“Oh, I've got a nose hair sticking out. Hii-chan's going to get mad at me.”

Then he casually walked out of the room, leaving Okamoto and Sanjoji behind in silence.

“Ah, um…”

Flustered, Sanjoji tried to say something supportive, but Okamoto just bit his lip and kept his head down. Their hope had been crushed. Nothing would change in the classroom like this.

The meeting was dismissed. Sanjoji did her best to encourage Okamoto, but it had little effect.

Since she couldn't bring him back to the classroom, she contacted his guardian to explain the situation.

Okamoto's guardian hoped for progress but was disappointed by the poor outcome. They asked what to do next, but Sanjoji didn't know either.

She returned to the classroom awkwardly. Her memories of school ended there.

Exhausted, she went home. She had no appetite. Even changing clothes felt burdensome, and she collapsed onto her bed.

A fierce sleepiness overtook her. She didn't want to think anymore. She screamed silently, wishing it were all a dream.

—The future where the two join hands will never come. Sanjoji's heart weakened.

She had to admit it. It was a surrender, no—an answer born from properly recognizing reality.

Overwhelming realism. A clash of cold emotions. She declared it firmly: repair of the relationship was impossible.

Kokonoe had not the slightest intention of it. Like water off a duck's back. For a boy who remained calm even when so cornered, the current state was not painful at all. He was fine maintaining the status quo.

There was no sweet ideal where an apology and handshake would wash everything away. Emotional friction was not something that could be fixed with a single word.

Moreover, damaging personal belongings was something that, even if apologized for, would never be forgiven.

What was done was by Takayama and the others, but from the perspective of Yukito Kokonoe, who was being hostilely regarded by the classmates, the real question was: so what if Kazuhiko Okamoto apologized? That was exactly right.

The textbooks were replaced with new ones. The doodles on the desks were erased and everything was restored to its clean, original state.

However, the fact that something made by Yukito Kokonoe's mother had been damaged and torn apart was irreparable no matter what. It crossed a boundary too far, too heavy to be settled by mere words.

The more Kokonoe cherished it, the more it was like damaging his soul and creating cracks within it.

Even if his mother were to make the same thing again, could that really be enough to return everything to how it was?

If they talked openly, they could understand each other. If sincerity was conveyed, forgiveness would come. Apologies would lead to reconciliation.

All of those now sounded like convenient, pretty lies. Naive illusions.

If things could be resolved through talk, there would be no wars. Behind it all was force. What was needed was power.

Apologies meant nothing as atonement. The only repayment was money. Sincerity was money.

Though they should have known this truth from experience, children were still taught lies under the name of ideals. That was education's failure and its sin, yet they remained unaware. Morality reduced to idealism.

Shouldn't education teach precisely these things? The ideals and educational views that Sanjoji once held were gradually fading and becoming doubtful. She lost confidence.

Suddenly she recalled that when she was a university student, Suzuka Sanjoji had been angry about the careless approach to sex education in schools.

Also, regarding tax systems and social welfare, she thought that by covering up and ignoring the unpleasant truths, inequality would never disappear. She had considered it a problem that children were isolated and raised in a sterile environment like a clean room…

Her body stiffened. She could not bear the thought that her choices and words might close off the future possibilities of the children ahead. The possibilities she held in her own hands—to guide them in the right direction. But which way was right? She could not see ahead. Days of groping in the dark.

At least, she had already closed off Misaki Himiyama's future—the biggest culprit of all. She felt sorry for the parents.

Having greatly hurt Yukito Kokonoe, Kazuhiko Okamoto might end up attending school only at the nurse's office.

Lacking ability. She had failed to save them. Apparently, transfer was now being considered.

It still didn't feel real. Originally, it shouldn't have been an incident that caused such a huge uproar.

Everyone had only become unhappy. Both hurt and hurting others.

Misaki Himiyama was not to blame. She was tormented by the guilt of being a failed teacher.

“Ku?”

Perhaps worried by her lowered head, she stroked the puppy that came to her feet.

She remembered how her previous dog, Inutsuna, had often stayed by her side when she was feeling hopelessly down. Stroking its soft fur had calmed her heart.

The memory of Inutsuna—its kindness—was surely inherited by Inukichi. Without Inukichi, she might have sunk even further into despair. The only comfort for Suzuka Sanjoji was interacting with Inukichi.

“I mustn't give up…”

She had no choice but to struggle through the mud. She had to bear the burden for Misaki Himiyama, who had given up in the depths of despair. Even if it was a selfish resolve, Suzuka Sanjoji did not run away.

“Sanjoji-Sensei, this for you.”

The next day, still sleep-deprived, she went to school. Her job didn't allow her the luxury of simply taking a break when tired.

The vice-principal handed her a printed sheet in the staff room. Quickly glancing over it, she remembered something she had completely forgotten amid the recent chaos. Forgotten far away—she didn't have time for that.

“Sports day…? Oh yes, it's about that time.”

“It'll be tough, but Sanjoji-sensei, why not use this opportunity?”

“Vice-principal…”

The vice-principal knew about the class situation. The school faced a crisis that could become a major problem if they made even one wrong move. Sanjoji vaguely understood what the vice-principal was trying to say by showing up here.

“Do you think the class can unite…?”

“I don't know. But you're still young. The children are confused too. We can't let things stay like this forever. Isn't it worth a try?”

“That's right… We have to try everything.”

School events like this help build class unity. Like a festival of sorts. As everyone aims for victory together, it might become a chance to improve relationships among the students.

Finding even a faint glimmer of hope, Sanjoji's heart felt just a little lighter.

Using sports day as a turning point to repair the class—that became her new goal.

However, at the same time, an unknown fear churned within her.

Perhaps unconsciously, she understood. It was something that could never truly go well.