Chapter 2: Is It Wrong for a Stranger to Feel Guilty Toward Me?
The special building for club activities wasn't as deserted as the school building—quite the opposite, in fact. It was bustling with energy, as if youth itself had taken physical form. Everywhere you looked, you could see the daily lives of boys and girls playing out.
If he were to be hauled into the Service Club like a sack of potatoes by Shizuka, his school life would probably be over before it even began.
Faced with Hayashida's unspoken threat—If you dare try anything funny, I'm leaving immediately—Shizuka didn't push further.
After all, she genuinely wanted to introduce him to the Service Club. If she went too far and scared him off, that wouldn't be ideal.
"Fine, fine. Carrying you up would be exhausting anyway. I was just trying to be considerate of your mobility issues. Some people just don't appreciate kindness."
"Hah."
Hayashida rolled his eyes. Yeah, right. You were having the time of your life just now—clearly just messing with me. As for exhaustion? She hadn't even broken a sweat!
Going upstairs was much easier than going down. He didn't even need his crutch—just hopping would do. Holding onto the railing, he could leap up two or three steps at a time, matching the efficiency of a fully able-bodied person.
Of course, such a unique method of ascent, combined with Hayashida's current appearance, naturally drew the attention of students in the hallway. However, thanks to Japan's unique cultural atmosphere, no one approached to ask questions or offer help. And with Shizuka—clearly a teacher—by his side, no one dared to intrude in the name of "accumulating good karma."
That said… was the Service Club really this remote?
Not only was it on a high floor, but the further they went, the fewer people there were.
The youthful energy in the air gradually faded, replaced by a cold, desolate silence.
Logically, there should have been other clubs active on this floor, yet not a single sound of chatter could be heard.
Stopping in front of an utterly ordinary sliding door, Hayashida glanced around at the "barren wasteland" and couldn't help but ask, "Sensei, are you sure the Service Club is here?"
Shizuka crossed her arms. "Of course. I'm the club advisor—how could I get it wrong?"
"If I recall correctly, you mentioned the Service Club was established to help others solve their problems. A convenient, all-purpose department like that should be pretty popular, right? So why is there no one around?"
Hayashida strongly suspected the Service Club was just a front for some privileged student to exploit school resources and embezzle club funds. With no one here, how could they possibly help anyone?
"Hmm… That's a good question. Maybe the school's education is so effective that students have no problems left to solve?"
"Do you even believe that, sensei?"
"Anyway, let's not dwell on it."
Shizuka didn't elaborate. Often, firsthand experience was far more effective than dry explanations.
—Shoom.
The classroom door slid open, revealing the interior to Hayashida.
One corner was cluttered with desks and chairs, likely repurposed as storage. Beyond that, the layout was no different from any other classroom—perfectly ordinary.
Except for one thing.
The girl inside.
Seated gracefully on a student chair, her posture impeccable even in solitude—back straight, movements refined—she exuded an elegance that spoke of exceptional upbringing. Even the way she turned the pages of her book carried an indescribable poise.
At a glance, it was clear: this was no ordinary girl.
This was the very image of a well-bred young lady.
Hearing the door open, she shifted her attention from her book to the entrance.
And at last, Hayashida got a full view of her.
How to describe it?
The moment he saw her face, Hayashida felt as if he was born to join the Service Club.
Having lived in Japan for nearly a year, he'd often come across so-called "once-in-a-millennium beauties" online.
Sure, many were attractive, but most relied on makeup and Photoshop. How they looked in reality was debatable.
But this girl?
She made him feel like the term "beauty" had been coined specifically for her.
Bathed in the sunset glow streaming through the window, her hair stirred by a gentle breeze, her bright eyes filled with curiosity—she looked like a painting.
Before Shizuka could speak, the girl addressed her first:
"Hiratsuka-sensei, I believe I've mentioned before that you should knock before entering?"
"Even if I knocked, you never answered," Shizuka retorted, unrepentant.
Honestly, Hayashida agreed that knocking was proper etiquette.
But if the person inside didn't respond, they bore half the blame. So this round was a draw.
"That's because you barged in before I could respond."
Okay, full blame on Shizuka.
The judge in Hayashida's mind slammed the gavel, declaring her guilty.
"And who is the disabled person beside you, sensei?"
When the girl's attention turned to him, Hayashida instinctively activated his emotion-sensing ability—and froze.
"This is Hayashida. He wants to join the Service Club. Hayashida, this is Yukino Yukinoshita, the club president." Shizuka introduced them succinctly. Noticing Hayashida's lack of reaction, she raised an eyebrow. "Hayashida?"
"Here." Hayashida snapped out of it and introduced himself to the girl named Yukinoshita Yukino. "I'm Hayashida from Class 2-F. Uh… Have we met before?"
"Pfft. What a cliché pickup line." Shizuka couldn't help but laugh, nudging Hayashida with her elbow. "You won't get girls like that, you know."
"I wasn't hitting on her," Hayashida retorted irritably.
Then, with absolute certainty, he added, "I don't think we've met, but you seem to have seen me before."
His judgment was based on his emotion-sensing ability. From Yukino, he detected guilt.
Would a normal girl feel guilty toward a complete stranger?
Obviously not.
Moreover, Hayashida noticed that when Yukino looked at him, her gaze lingered on his leg.
Without sensing her emotions, he might have assumed it was just natural curiosity—after all, his plaster-casted left leg was rather conspicuous at school.
But the truth seemed different. Hayashida already had a theory…