Chapter 33 – The Envelope Opens
Kotarō woke up before his alarm.
He didn't move right away. Just stared at the ceiling.
"It's not a tournament.
It's just sparring."
That line didn't help at all.
His brain had already been debating since dawn. Rebuttal chains looped in his head like elevator music. Every silence felt like countdown static.
By the time he left his room, the sky was overcast. The streets were quiet. But inside, he felt like someone had lit a fire and left it to smolder under his ribs.
At 7:58 a.m., the English clubroom was already occupied.
Mikako sat with a thick binder closed in front of her like it held government secrets. Haruka was by the window, sipping quietly from a familiar pink carton. Strawberry milk, naturally.
Souta paced behind a desk humming a dramatic tune under his breath.
Kotarō sat without a word.
At 8:00 sharp, Mikako pulled out the sealed envelope. The room fell still.
She tore it open and read aloud:
"This House Would Abolish Homework in High Schools."
Souta made a noise halfway between a laugh and a groan. "Oh great. Now we have to sound smarter than every lazy student on Earth."
Haruka raised an eyebrow. "Layered, though."
Mikako already scribbled it on the whiteboard.
(Kotarō Internal)
"The motion's deceptively casual.
But it carries fire under the skin.
Philosophy. Education reform.
Expectations vs. equity."_
In the prep room, they worked fast.
Haruka took lead outlining arguments.
Homework perpetuates academic inequalityPenalizes students from difficult home environmentsLowers retention and motivation over time
Kotarō added nuance:
Cultural dependency on homework in AsiaAlternatives in Finland and progressive schoolsOpposition would likely cite discipline and personal responsibility
(Kotarō Internal)
"They'll come for our ethos.
Make it sound like we're lazy or entitled.
We need to defuse that before it sparks."
Souta contributed something like: "Homework is the school's apology gift for bad lectures," which was vetoed immediately.
Mikako timed each argument. No phones. No internet. Just ink and grit.
The classroom felt twice as big when they stepped in to face Koganei East.
The opposing team was already there. Pressed uniforms. Calm steps. Polished notebooks.
But their energy was loud—not silent and refined like Ayumu, but swaggering, confident. Their captain stood a bit ahead, arms loosely folded like he owned the floor.
"Haruka Shizune," he called with a wide grin. "Long time no lose."
Haruka exhaled softly through her nose. "Still loud, huh, Aizawa."
Kotarō blinked. "Wait... They know each other?"
Aizawa walked up like he was greeting an old rival on a game show.
"Didn't think you'd still be leading your ragtag band of nerds," he said. "How's Mikako? Still terrifying?"
"Consistently," Haruka replied.
He turned to Kotarō.
"New guy, huh? You look... thoughtful. That's dangerous."
Kotarō didn't reply. Aizawa winked and walked past.
(Kotarō Internal)
"So she knows Ayumu. And now this guy.
Haruka sure is... connected.
And they all treat her like she's a final boss they still haven't beaten."_
The judges called for order. The room quieted.
Haruka stood and adjusted her sleeves. She slid her strawberry milk carton into her bag, unopened.
"That's her sword."
Her name was called. She stepped forward.
(Kotarō Internal)
"This is real. Let's see if we belong here."_
Chapter End