After the "Pavilion Back Treaty" which resembled an emergency ceasefire, the dynamics of Class 2-B changed into something very awkward, yet functional.
If our class were a machine, then now that machine was running with several bolts intentionally loosened so as not to explode.
Minamikata Miwa was now living a double life that made me tired just by watching her from the corner of the class.
During break time, she still sat with Madoka's group. However, the view now was fundamentally different.
Shirayuki Madoka still remained the ruler; she would ramble on about the latest fashion magazines or how boring Chemistry class was.
However, when Minami interrupted with a different opinion, something that used to be impossible. Madoka no longer exploded. She would just snort, roll her eyes dramatically, yet strangely, she stayed silent and listened.
And there, Kazuya Akabane would sit with his calm smile, mediating every small friction like a UN diplomat trying to prevent a civil war amidst a conflict of interest.
Encounter in the Corridor: The Hero and His Burden
That moment happened right before the last period started. I was walking back from the toilet, the only place where a loner can truly contemplate the essence of existence without disturbance. When I saw them in the corridor near the stairs.
Kazuya and Minami.
I immediately pulled back behind a pillar. Not because I wanted to eavesdrop (okay, maybe 10% because of that), but more because involving myself in conversations with popular people is an activity that burns too many social calories.
"Minami, wait a moment," Kazuya called. His voice always had the perfect intonation; not too loud, yet warm enough to make anyone feel important.
Minami stopped and turned. "Eh, Kazuya-kun? What is it?"
Kazuya stepped closer, maintaining a very polite yet intimate distance. He looked at Minami with a genuine searching gaze. The kind of attention usually only possessed by the main character in a cheap romance novel.
"I just wanted to check on you," Kazuya said softly. "These last few days... they must have been hard for you, right? Facing Madoka and trying to maintain your own opinion. I want to make sure you're okay."
I could see Minami's shoulders relax slightly. "Ah... yes. It was scary at first, but now it feels much better. Thank you for helping the other day, Kazuya-kun."
Kazuya smiled, yet there was a slight trace of sadness in his eyes. He leaned his back against the corridor railing, staring at the afternoon sky from the window.
"I apologize if I seemed to just stay silent all this time. You know, to me, Class 2-B isn't just a collection of students. I consider you all family. And in a family, peace is my top priority."
He paused for a moment, then looked at Minami again with a glint of determination. "I promise, Minami. As long as I'm here, I will keep that peace alive. I don't want a single member of this 'family' to feel left out or hurt again. I will make sure Madoka and the others remain a place for you to return to."
Minami was stunned. In her eyes, I could see a flash of pure admiration. Who wouldn't be impressed? In front of her stood a man willing to shoulder the weight of the entire class, a hero offering unconditional protection.
"Kazuya-kun... you're really great, huh," whispered Minami. "You're always thinking about everyone."
Kazuya just laughed softly, a heavy-sounding laugh. "I'm just doing what needs to be done. Take good care of yourself, Minami."
After Kazuya left, Minami stood there for a few moments, as if she had just received a blessing from the god of peace.
I, from behind the pillar, could only snort softly. Family, huh? A sweet metaphor, but also a terrifying one. Because in a family, truth is often sacrificed to maintain harmony at the dinner table.
And every afternoon, without fail, Minami would appear in our workroom.
"Izumi! Reina! I brought snacks!"
The sliding door opened with a very familiar brak. Minami entered with a bright face, though I could see the remains of "diplomacy fatigue" on her face, and put a bag of cream puffs on the table.
I just looked up briefly from the novel I was reading. "You again. Shouldn't you be going to the mall with Madoka and the others today? I heard they're looking for new shoes that cost as much as my food budget for a month."
"I was invited," Minami sat while catching her slightly huffing breath.
"But I said I had business here. Madoka pouted and said, 'Must be going to see that bacteria, right?', but strangely, she didn't get angry like before. She just... well, resigned."
"She called me bacteria again? At least she's consistent in her biological classification of me," I muttered.
Kurokawa put down her book, looking at Minami with a sharp, probing gaze, as if she were examining a specimen under a microscope.
"So, you truly intend to lead this 'ambivalent' lifestyle? Balancing between being a submissive follower in the morning and a thinking human in the afternoon? That sounds very inefficient and mentally exhausting, Minami-san."
"Not really, Reina!" Minami smiled, though there were slight dark circles under her eyes.
"It feels much better than before. Now, when I'm with them, I don't feel like I have to agree with everything just so I don't get kicked out. And when I'm here... I feel I can breathe without having to ask permission from anyone."
"Breathing in a quarantine room full of bacteria and ice? A very eccentric choice of oxygen," I remarked.
"Yes! Because bacteria and ice are honest! They won't pretend to be oxygen if they are indeed carbon monoxide!"
Minami laughed softly, a laugh far more free than when she spoke with Kazuya earlier.
I closed my book with a firm plak. Actually, there was something bothering my mind since I eavesdropped on her conversation with Kazuya in the corridor.
Minami's status now was a social anomaly. She was the bridge between the class's ruling group and us, two outcasts in this place. And in any building structure, a bridge is always the first part to collapse during an earthquake or a conflict of interest.
"Listen, Minami," I said, my tone turning serious, making Kurokawa glance at me slightly.
"You know Kazuya helped us yesterday not because he truly supports this division or because he agrees with your 'honesty,' right?"
Minami fell silent, her finger playing with the edge of the cream puff plastic packaging which was starting to fog.
"He did that because he wants to maintain the image of 'peace' that he glorifies. He wants to keep his 'family' intact, even if it means forcing a bandage on a wound that is still festering. If someday your honesty starts threatening the class's stability again, if you make Madoka cry again, Kazuya won't hesitate to side with Madoka. Heroes always choose the majority to maintain world peace."
Minami looked down. The shadow of her eyelashes fell on her blushing cheeks. "I know. Kazuya-kun... he's a person who values the group very much. He wants everyone to be happy in one big circle. Earlier he said he would guard Class 2-B's peace as his family. I indeed felt admiration... but..."
She looked up, looking at me and Kurokawa alternately with an unusual glint.
"But that's okay. As long as I have a place here, in this room that doesn't care about the 'mood,' I feel strong enough to face the fake peace there. I don't need a hero to guard me if I can stand on my own with you."
Kurokawa leaned her back against the wooden chair, staring at the room's ceiling where the paint was starting to peel.
"A simple wish, yet the most difficult to maintain in human history. You're trying to mix water and oil, Minami-san. In chemistry, they will never merge naturally. Sooner or later, you must choose one phase: being the calm water in your group, or being the isolated oil here."
"Or maybe," Minami stood up, her eyes sparkling with a spirit that looked almost foolish yet contagious, "I can turn that oil and water into a delicious sauce? Like salad dressing! If shaken correctly, they can give a new flavor, right?"
I let out a long sigh, trying to hold back the sudden headache. "A very stupid, unscientific metaphor, and it shows that you're hungry."
"Ehehe, maybe!" Minami took one cream puff and held it out to me. "Come on Izumi, eat first! Don't be too gloomy, or your face will look even more like a fish that's been at the market for a week."
I took the puff reluctantly. As I bit into it, the sweet taste of the cream filled my mouth. In this cold room, with Minami's noisy presence and Kurokawa's sharpness, I realized that the social structure of 2-B was indeed changing.
Kazuya wants to protect the "family," but Minami wants to find "herself." And me? I just want to see how far this stupid salad dressing can last before it finally spoils, swallowed by reality.
"It's good, right?" asked Minami with a wide smile.
"Too sweet," I muttered. "Just like Kazuya's promise."
Kurokawa only smiled thinly, an expression showing that she, too, somehow, was beginning to get used to the sweet "disturbance" of this afternoon.