School Days Rewind! The Disciplinary Committee vs. the Thief of Youth

Any of you interested in joining the disciplinary committee?

The group of four first-year students I approached—two guys and two girls, annoyingly enough—first looked at my face, then down at the armband on my upper arm.

Disciplinary . . . what's that?

Are those the people who chase rule breakers around with bamboo swords? I've only seen that kind of thing in manga.

Whether it was genuine curiosity or just politeness, the new students seemed to be taking the bait. I put on my best act as a kind and reliable upperclassman.

Good question! The disciplinary committee handles student disputes here at school and works to maintain order—we're basically the academy's troubleshooters! No bamboo swords involved, though!

The new students responded to my enthusiastic pitch with polite but noncommittal smiles.

Sorry, not interested.

Um, sorry.

All four of them gave apologetic murmurs and quickly walked away.

I stood there watching their retreating backs.

Well, of course they're not interested. Those other clubs seem way more fun, no matter how you look at it.

I muttered to myself while looking around.

Along the walkway from the main gate to the school building, second and third-year students lined both sides, approaching new students with smiles and friendly conversation as they passed by. It was all for club recruitment.

At our school, each grade wore a different-colored badge on the chest of their uniforms—first-years wore red, second-years blue, and third-years green. Because of these color differences, whenever a new student with a red grade badge walked by, the upperclassmen immediately swarmed them.

Athletic clubs like baseball, soccer, lacrosse, and cheerleading each wore their respective uniforms, while cultural clubs also made visual appeals to new students. The rakugo club and tea ceremony club wore traditional Japanese clothing, and the physics and chemistry clubs donned lab coats.

Some of the major clubs had even applied to the student council in advance to set up long tables where they could accept new members on the spot.

At least during early April, this scene was never-ending.

Especially today, being the afternoon when recruitment activities were officially permitted, the number of uncommitted first-years was at its peak. Intense recruitment battles were taking place everywhere.

Toten Academy High School wasn't the best in Japan, but it was one of Japan's leading schools.

It had about a thousand students per grade. Over three thousand students in total.

Simply put, more students meant more clubs, so there were over fifty athletic and cultural clubs combined, and when you included the hobby groups aiming to be promoted to official club status, the number approached one hundred.

Furthermore, with various committees headed by student council executives—the broadcasting committee, beautification committee, library committee, health committee, and others—student self-governance activities were thriving. Some of these committees had more members than mediocre clubs.

On the other hand . . .

I pinched the armband wrapped around my upper arm. It was made of blue fabric and had the word "Discipline" embroidered in white characters.

Our disciplinary committee was overwhelmingly understaffed. It'd only been kept from being disbanded because it was built into the school system as one of the student self-governance organizations. Otherwise, we'd have so few members that we couldn't even qualify as a hobby group, let alone an official club.

It wasn't that having more people was automatically better, but if you were going to dedicate your after-school hours during your one shot at high school to some activity, then yeah, the more people the merrier. Friendship, romance—all those exciting experiences depended on human relationships.

Thinking about it that way, recruiting eager new students who were bright-eyed about their high school experience and dragging them into something like the disciplinary committee almost felt like a sin.

Well, even when I tried recruiting them, forget about getting them to join—I couldn't even get them interested . . .

I'd already approached about twenty groups, and getting completely brushed off by every single one was enough to crush anyone's spirit. I was starting to think it'd be better to just give up and go enjoy the cherry blossoms while they were still in full bloom. I was about to walk under the cherry blossom arch when—

What're you doing, Ryoji? I was watching. They all ran away from you, didn't they?

Someone tapped me on the shoulder from behind, and I turned around.

Black hair dotted with cherry blossom petals swayed gently in the spring breeze.

Natsumi.

Natsumi Shiba, the disciplinary committee head who oversaw discipline at this academy, was standing there with a smile.

Her lustrous black hair fell to her shoulders, contrasting beautifully with her fair skin.

She wore none of the accessories typical of female students—just cleanly designed glasses that gave her well-proportioned features an intellectual air, black stockings that extended from her skirt down her legs, and the disciplinary committee armband around her upper arm.

Judging by appearance alone, she looked every bit the honor student. In fact, if you just passed her by, you'd think she was the epitome of an intellectual upperclassman beauty.

However, when facing her directly, anyone would notice something was slightly off.

Behind those glasses, her eyes seemed to contain both intelligence and something wild, while her snickering smile appeared to both enjoy and mock whoever she was looking at. These features clashed with her otherwise honor student appearance, creating a strangely twisted overall impression.

Oh? What's this? Staring at me now? Hehe.

Natsumi poked my chest with her index finger.

No way.

I feigned composure.

You could call her beautiful, but—perhaps because her personality was amusingly twisted—she was such an oddball that she didn't even have a boyfriend. Instead, she wasted her precious youth on something like the disciplinary committee. Whether her personality had become twisted from being on the disciplinary committee, or she'd joined the disciplinary committee because her personality was already twisted, remained a mystery.

So, Ryoji. How's it going? Any new students wanting to join our disciplinary committee?

Not a single one. Complete annihilation.

Natsumi seemed to expect that answer and let out a small sigh, her expression unchanged.

You need to be more creative—smooth-talk them, exploit their weaknesses. Once you get them to sign that application, it's in the bag. Let's try different approaches.

Do you even understand your position here?

Disciplinary committee head!

She put her hands on her hips and puffed out her chest, emphasizing the word "head" with pride.

While it was true that Natsumi Shiba was indeed the current disciplinary committee head, she'd gotten the position mostly through seniority. After the previous third-year students had graduated, she'd been the only second-year student left, so she'd just gotten bumped up. It didn't go down smoothly either, with voices of opposition rising from the counseling department and various other quarters. In the end, it was the head counselor who'd settled things.

Well, there are cases where former thieves become excellent crime prevention advisors. Besides, I need to wrap this meeting up or I'll miss happy hour.

This dubious defense—if you could even call it a defense—had gotten Natsumi Shiba safely installed as disciplinary committee head.

That's exactly what I'm saying. Should a disciplinary committee head really be giving instructions like "smooth-talk people" and "exploit their weaknesses" like some sleazy salesperson?

That's where you use your judgment and stay flexible. Just smooth-talk people and exploit their weaknesses within the bounds of maintaining discipline.

And when problems arise from that, who takes responsibility?

You do, for causing problems through your own poor judgment.

Wow, I'm so lucky to have such a caring upperclassman looking out for me.

Besides, if you approach them with such a gloomy expression, even the new students will get defensive. You need to be more upbeat! Ryoji, you're already an unpopular kid—I mean, an outcast.

Why'd you correct yourself? They both mean basically the same thing! That kind of consideration is pointless!

You get pretty energetic when you're arguing with your friends, though. Well, I guess that's also typical of introverts.

If you're gonna say stuff like that, then show me how it's done, Natsumi. Let's see these recruitment techniques you're bragging about.

Fine then. Watch and learn.

Natsumi looked around and apparently spotted a target—a male student—then approached him with a business smile. When she put on an act like this, she really did look like a beautiful, intellectual upperclassman.

Natsumi made eye contact and smiled sweetly. Her target stopped walking before she even said anything. With a tense expression, he waited nervously for this beautiful upperclassman to speak.

I watched the scene from half a step behind.

She had already captured his heart. Now she just needed to deliver the finishing blow to recruit him!

Hey there, wanna do some naughty things with your upperclassman—ow!

I smacked the disciplinary committee head on the back of the head. Thank goodness I was within reach.

Are you insane? Is your brain broken?

Violence toward a female senior isn't very admirable, you know.

While she was speaking, the innocent first-year who'd been completely shocked ran off. Though even if he'd said, "Yes, please!" it would've been problematic.

When I said show me how it's done, I meant recruitment! Who told you to seduce him?!

If you were worried about my virtue, don't be. You lure them in with sex appeal, then comes thug mode. The combination is what's important.

Huh? Thug?

I was planning to bring him to the disciplinary committee room and hand him off to you. Then, I'd be like, "When I said something naughty, I meant naughty as in breaking the RULES, not THAT kind of naughty!"

So I'm the thug in this scenario? And even if we got new members through this sketchy bait-and-switch method, do you really think someone like that would properly participate as a disciplinary committee member?

But Ryoji, you fell for something like that last year too . . .

Don't go making up memories just because you feel like it, damn it.

Hmm, I took a blow to the back of the head earlier, so my memory's a bit . . .

Bantering like this, we walked side by side through the academy grounds in spring.

You know what, I think the disciplinary committee should go with a small but elite approach.

Natsumi tried to catch a cherry blossom petal floating down, but missed. The petal slipped through her palm and was carried away by the wind.

We can leave the shotgun recruitment approach—throwing everything at the wall to see what sticks—to the big clubs. Small organizations like ours need to target promising new students with pinpoint precision!

She declared this with conviction, leaning in close to peer at my face as we walked.

So?

So what . . . ? Look, how are we supposed to identify these promising new students in the first place?

Capable people have a different look in their eyes.

There you go with the vague answers again . . . Besides, this is all too much trouble. Why not just forget about recruitment? If anyone wants to join the disciplinary committee, they'll come to us.

Oh really? You don't want to recruit a beautiful, sweet first-year girl? You don't want her to look up to you?

I pictured that scene.

"Ryoji, please teach me about disciplinary committee work!"

"Ryoji, I made cookies in home economics class. If you'd like . . ."

"Ryoji, some clubs prohibit dating within the club, but what about the disciplinary committee? Ah, I'm just asking!"

I want that . . . I want to be spoken to in that soft, gentle way . . .

Right?

But thinking about it realistically, there's no way a sweet, beautiful girl would join something like the disciplinary committee.

That wasn't the case two years ago.

Seriously? When did she quit?

She actually never quit.

We were having this casual conversation while wandering aimlessly when . . .

Ryoji! Natsumi!

Someone was waving and walking toward us.

Silky smooth hair, a face that looked like it belonged to a prince from a girls' manga, and long, slender limbs. It was Marosuke Ayanokojuin, a second-year on the beautification committee with a name that sounded like knockoff nobility.

The beautification committee was dedicated to maintaining the aesthetic appearance of the school campus.

They decided on beautification slogans and managed trash cans around campus, but they were essentially a gardening club. Their main activities were tending to the trees and flower beds on campus and enjoying tea parties in the beautification committee room—quite the refined operation.

Is the disciplinary committee recruiting too? I'm actually on my way to show some first-years around our committee room. They expressed interest in joining us.

Behind Marosuke, about seven or eight new students were following along. All of them were girls.

As always, you're surrounded by a bunch of girls.

That's right. I tried approaching some guys too, but they showed absolutely no interest.

The beautification committee's current male-to-female ratio was heavily skewed at one to nine.

While it had always been a committee with many girls, this trend had become much more pronounced after Marosuke had joined last year. The girls had formed what basically amounted to a personal entourage, and most of the boys had gotten jealous and left the committee. This pattern intensified throughout the year, and the organization had transformed into what was now known as the "Marosuke harem." To put it bluntly, it was infuriatingly enviable.

Say, Marosuke, could you teach our Ryoji the secrets of recruiting new students? I want to help Ryoji get some cute underclassmen.

Natsumi started saying unnecessary things.

Um . . . I look them in the eyes and ask, "Would you be interested in the beautification committee?" Most girls show interest when I do that. But for some reason, guys often click their tongues at me.

I gave him a good, hard tongue click.

Yeah, right. Your whole Prince Charming act is killing my game, so hurry up and get lost.

Oh, right, I should get them to the room quickly—wouldn't want to keep the new students waiting. Come have tea with me sometime, Ryoji. I have some delicious herbal tea!

Like hell I'm gonna mooch off someone else's harem!

Even as I said it, I realized it was a pretty harsh thing to say, but Marosuke took it with a smile while leading away his potential new harem members.

See? They're out there—the new students, I mean.

Natsumi watched the Marosuke harem disappear into the distance.

There's a difference between them existing and them joining us—

Yo, damn disciplinary committee!

A venomous voice cut through the air from straight ahead. A girl wearing a third-year grade badge on her chest was directing a withering glare our way.

Hair that looked like she'd just rolled out of bed, a petite frame, and an oversized uniform with overly long sleeves that hung way past her hands. It wasn't a fashion choice—apparently, she'd bought her uniform expecting a growth spurt that never came. The pockets were stuffed with pens, notepads, and other gear. Unlike Natsumi's polished appearance, this girl had a cluttered, information-heavy look that somehow radiated gloom. The dark circles under her glasses suggested she'd pulled an all-nighter, adding a distinctly toxic edge to her otherwise youthful face.

Well hello, if it isn't the fake news kingpin!

Natsumi shot back with equal venom, grinning all the while.

Hmph. Well, that's not wrong. Everything about youth is fake anyway.

She gave me a smug look as if to say, "There, I just said something clever," so I responded with my most sarcastic smile.

She was Eiko Mikage, president of the newspaper club, one of the academy's major cultural organizations. They compiled, edited, and published all the campus stories worth telling.

Speaking of which, Eiko, your uniform sleeves are still way too long. Why don't you just get them tailored already?

Shut it! My growth spurt's coming! I'm a child of infinite possibilities!

You still haven't given up on that?

Tomorrow, tomorrow, grow tomorrow—tomorrow you'll grow into a busty girl. I sent her some mental encouragement.

So anyway, how's the newspaper club doing with recruitment?

Eiko puffed out her flat chest.

Ha! We're one of the big three cultural clubs. People flock to us even when we do nothing at all.

The school newspaper sold for a hundred yen per copy with the school's permission, and it had plenty of devoted readers on campus. I was one of them—I bought it every week. The fact that they maintained their incredible weekly publication schedule was largely thanks to their massive workforce.

While they did cover campus news like club match results and faculty marriages, entertainment articles vastly outnumbered everything else, making it more like a magazine than a traditional newspaper. Beyond that, most printed materials for school events—festival pamphlets, school trip guides—were created and edited by the newspaper club.

They didn't produce everything in-house—serialized novels came from the literature club, four-panel comics and illustrations from the manga club, photographs from the photography club, and so on. They collaborated with various other organizations. Even athletic clubs reportedly gained members when featured in the newspaper club's articles, showing just how much influence they wielded.

Thanks to all this, the newspaper club exerted hidden influence not only over cultural clubs, but also athletic clubs, the student council, and even the faculty. They were considered the academy's third powerhouse, after the administration and student council leadership.

And at the top of it all sat Eiko Mikage. Anyone who climbed to the head of such an organization naturally developed some twisted personality quirks. Whether her personality became twisted because she joined the newspaper club, or she joined because it was already twisted, remained a mystery—one that had never been covered in the school newspaper, either.

Hey, don't you have any good intel? About the new students?

Huh?

Natsumi casually threw her arm around Eiko's shoulder.

You're selling lists of promising new students under the table, right? I'll overlook this little trade in personal information if you slip us some intel too.

Tch, you're as sharp as ever about this stuff. But I'm not taking money for it. I'm building up debts.

Then, build up a debt with the disciplinary committee too. We're gonna be trading favors all year anyway.

In other words, here's how it worked.

At least this April, the competition for new club members was definitely a seller's market. Aside from clubs like baseball, where massive numbers joined automatically and they actually needed to cut people based on ability, every club, hobby group, and committee shared the same goal: recruit as many members as possible.

But if you were being picky about it, the ideal new club member would be someone who could boost the club's performance, had the social skills to respect seniors and bond with classmates, and—if they were the opposite sex—good looks would be a perfect bonus! (Same-sex recruits might create romantic competition within the club, which got a bit messy.)

The moment you walked through those school gates, everyone got sorted by ability. Equal opportunity, unequal results—that was just another harsh reality of high school life. Among all the run-of-the-mill new students, there were those rare gems that shone particularly bright. These exceptional newcomers naturally became hot commodities.

And the newspaper club was the one spreading information about these rare finds, "building debts" as Eiko put it.

But Natsumi, athletic clubs target people with superior physical ability and cultural clubs go after students with middle school competition achievements—they all have clear targets. What kind of people does the disciplinary committee need?

Tough and interesting people!

You're not a variety show producer casting comedians for slapstick segments.

Oh yeah, speaking of which, when I dropped by that athletic club meeting earlier, I heard there was this really impressive new student.

Impressive?

Yeah. They had this prospective girls' track team member run the hundred meters, and she posted a time that nearly matched the current team captain. Naturally, they tried recruiting her on the spot, but she said she wanted to check out other clubs and took off. They tracked her movements after that, and turns out she scored a technical point against the judo team captain and hit a triple against the softball team captain—it was all the same person. She's the kind of talent every athletic club is fighting over.

Huh. Not just running, but martial arts and ball sports too. So she's basically good at everything?

Our school's track, judo, and softball teams are all powerhouses that compete at the national level. If she can hold her own against their team captains right after enrolling, she's immediate starter material—top tier.

And what's really annoying is that she's also gorgeous, and when you talk to her, she's got incredible people skills and gets along great with seniors. So not only are the girls' athletic clubs chasing after her, but so are the boys' teams who want her as a potential manager.

It'd be a waste to have someone with that much talent just making rice balls for muscle-head boys.

And here's the interesting part—someone with that level of ability should have middle school sports achievements on record, but when I looked into it, nothing came up at all.

Ooh, so there's even a mystery involved. I love it.

Natsumi was getting worked up. I had a bad feeling about it.

Natsumi, think about this calmly. Even in this seller's market, if we try recruiting someone who's being pulled in all directions, there's no way they'd go for the disciplinary committee.

We won't know unless we try!

Well, muscle-head popular kids aren't needed in the newspaper club anyway. So I could pass you that person's information. Depends on what the disciplinary committee offers in return though.

Alright, got it. Let's trade Ryoji!

A person-for-person trade would be one thing, but trading me for information?!

The newspaper club may be a den of unpopular kids, but we don't need some guy who looks like a dead merman.

You're insulting not just my face but my whole body?! And have you ever actually seen a dead merman?!

I was trading barbs with these two seniors when . . .

Oh wait, hold on, we got a report via LINE.

Natsumi pulled out her smartphone to check the message that came in on LINE. The disciplinary committee's LINE ID was available to the entire school, so anyone on campus could contact us immediately if they needed help.

A report about what?

Looks like recruitment-related trouble. Apparently various clubs are going after a first-year.

The most common student problems right after enrollment involved club recruitment.

It worked like this: they approached new students with big smiles and smooth talk, leading them to club rooms where members surrounded and essentially trapped them. In that enclosed space, they enthusiastically explained just how amazing their club was, wearing down their judgment until they signed application forms—mission accomplished. The worst cases even involved intimidation and violence. Like those aggressive touts you saw in entertainment districts—though as an upstanding high school student, I'd only witnessed that kind of predatory behavior in documentaries.

Wait, this strategy sounds familiar . . .

Oh, it's probably her. The girl I was just talking about.

Eiko spoke while peering at the smartphone screen. There was a photo attached that looked like it'd just been taken. It was shot from far enough away that you couldn't make out the faces clearly, but you could see various people in different uniforms surrounding a female student in a school uniform.

Apparently, the recruitment efforts to secure this golden rookie had gotten a bit out of hand, and some well-meaning bystander who felt sorry for her had reported it.

Ryoji, this is our chance!

Chance?

Natsumi poked my forehead with her fingertip as I tilted my head.

You're so dense. It's all about perspective. Look, as part of our regular disciplinary committee duties, we help people who are being hassled by aggressive recruitment, right?

Yeah, aggressive recruitment . . .

It was true that cracking down on aggressive recruitment was part of our regular duties as disciplinary committee members.

So then they'll be grateful, right? Instead of being the one getting saved, they'll want to be the one doing the saving! They'll think, "I want to be like that amazing disciplinary committee member who helped me out!" and they'll sign up.

That's awfully idealistic . . .

And why was she talking so fast?

Well, I guess it's better than recruiting through some fake honey trap scheme . . .

Come on, let's go help that first-year who's being chased around! For justice! And for the future of the disciplinary committee!

What a pain.

Muttering to myself, I chased after the disciplinary committee head, who had already taken off running.

◇

When we reached the scene of the report—the courtyard—sure enough, there was a crowd of people in various uniforms. Just as Eiko had said, boys and girls alike from different athletic clubs were involved. But it wasn't just that. There were also cultural club members from the rakugo club, physics club, go club, theater club, and others.

Even though she's supposed to be a physically gifted new student, it looks like the cultural clubs are gathering too.

It's human nature—when people want something, you start wanting it too, even if you don't actually need it.

Natsumi said these words with a straight face, completely overlooking her own behavior.

Well, according to Eiko's intel, she was not just athletically gifted but also cute and had great social skills, so it made sense that cultural clubs would want her too.

The first-year was probably at the center of this crowd, but with various club members trying to recruit her, plus onlookers joining in, there were multiple rings of people blocking our way.

But with this crowd, I can't even see her face—

Natsumi grabbed my face from behind and tilted it up about thirty degrees.

I thought I made eye contact with her.

In reality, she wasn't just looking at me—she was looking down at everyone surrounding the area.

She was sitting on a branch of the cherry tree that towered in the center of the courtyard.

Her neatly trimmed short black hair swayed in the wind along with the cherry blossom branches. Just below her bangs that barely touched her eyebrows, large eyes that seemed strong-willed looked down at us.

She's got a good look about her. There's something different in her eyes.

Natsumi shielded her eyes from the sunlight with her hand as she looked up at the tree.

I guess she climbed up the tree to escape all the recruitment pressure. Ryoji, stop staring and let's hurry up and help her.

I wasn't staring—

All right, that's enough! We're the disciplinary committee—make way!

When Natsumi announced herself loudly from the back of the crowd, everyone turned toward us all at once, then turned back around as if nothing had happened.

Grrr . . .

Natsumi stamped her foot while groaning, but that didn't change anything.

As you can see, being disciplinary committee members didn't give us any special authority, nor did it mean we were particularly respected by other students.

At the very back of the crowd surrounding the cherry tree, all we could do was look up at that first-year.

Um, everyone. Please calm down.

The first-year student spoke with more composure than anyone else gathered beneath the tree.

Thank you all for your enthusiasm. If I had multiple bodies or if high school lasted a hundred years, I'd love to try every single club. But unfortunately, that's not the case. So, let me ask you upperclassmen who've been through this before a question.

What an impressive first-year. She'd already completely taken control of the situation.

Everyone was waiting for her next words.

After a long pause . . .

How can I live the ultimate youth?

The cherry branches rustled, scattering some petals.

Then, silence fell.

Everyone gathered beneath the tree processed her words. Some showed troubled expressions, some smiled bitterly, and some closed their eyes.

That girl's like some spirit or mythical creature posing riddles to humans, I thought.

This once-in-a-lifetime high school experience—I want to make the most of it. So . . .

Join the girls' track team and become the wind! That's the ultimate youth experience!

Become the baseball team's manager and we'll take you to the championships—ultimate youth!

Join film! Burn your youth onto film!

Theater! You can live countless lives in one youth!

(harmonizing in beautiful voices) Choir—that's what youth is!

Launch bottle rockets toward space—is there a greater youth than that?!

Why climb mountains? Because that's where youth's at!

Spend your springtime of life on gateball in winter—the irony is what makes it!

Shady cryptocurrency at maximum leverage! That's youth!

School anime shows us the ultimate youth! The more we watch, the closer we get to the perfect youth!

Everyone began pitching their own vision of youth to the first-year up in the tree.

Um, uh, everyone, please calm down, calm down.

Even the first-year who had started this chaos looked down at the frenzied crowd with bewilderment and concern.

At this point, we're gonna need to call a teacher or something to sort this out.

Relying on teachers would be a disgrace to the disciplinary committee! Wait, I have an idea.

Natsumi spotted a male student shouting from the back of the crowd and tapped him on the shoulder.

Well hello, if it isn't Yamamoto from the baseball club!

Wh-what do you want?

By singling him out by name, Natsumi had cleverly transformed this mob situation into a series of one-on-one confrontations.

Soccer team manager Yumi and volleyball team manager Arisa.

The moment she mentioned those names, Yamamoto's face went pale.

You're so short on managers that you're hitting on other teams' managers, and now you want a first-year manager too. But two-timing is no good, Yamamoto. I'm in a position where I have to crack down on improper relationships that disrupt school discipline, you know!

Ah, no, I—

As Yamamoto flinched, Natsumi turned her head to face someone else.

Oh, if it isn't Kinoshita from the soccer club! Remember who stepped in to mediate last year when you were two-timing the wrestling captain's little sister and the karate captain's cousin? Remember getting buried up to your neck in the flowerbeds behind the school building?

U-ungh.

Next, she called out to the tall girl beside him.

Saito from the girls' volleyball team! About that discrepancy in your budget report—the number of balls you submitted to the student council versus the actual number of new balls your team received. I'm thinking maybe I should investigate that after all! I'm really curious about where that difference went!

No, that's—y-you must've made a mistake!

One by one, the people who had been shouting enthusiastically grew quiet.

Oh my, Ryoji. You know, we've had some pretty serious disciplinary problems at this academy lately! Looking at all these familiar faces, I'm suddenly reminded of some cases we disciplinary committee members handled last year!

With Natsumi's nudge, I reluctantly decided to play along with the disciplinary committee head's strategy.

That telescope in the astronomy club window during broad daylight . . . Was it just a coincidence that it pointed directly at the girls' tennis courts . . . ?

The shogi club vice-president was running betting games on Daido Shogi puzzles during breaks, except that those puzzles had no winning solution . . .

Trying to sell "exclusive sweaty action shots" by photographing sumo club practice sessions . . .

That thing in the biology club's aquarium that should be protected by a treaty . . .

Collecting used meal tickets from the cafeteria and falsifying the dates . . .

Books kept disappearing from the school library, but those seemingly unrelated volumes were . . .

Looking back on this past year as a disciplinary committee member, I'd been involved in all sorts of terrible incidents at this academy.

As I recounted these disciplinary committee cases, the people who had been surrounding us with hostile expressions now wore nothing but awkward, bitter smiles.

Oh, right, is everyone done with recruitment? Good. Then please clear the way.

Natsumi looked around at everyone and grinned.

The crowd surrounding the cherry tree dispersed, and everyone—including the onlookers—left the courtyard.

◇

There, it's safe now. Come on down. By the way, how did you climb up there?

Natsumi called gently to the person in the tree.

At that moment, the person in the tree suddenly slumped backward ninety degrees . . . and then one hundred eighty degrees!

Wait, she's . . .

She's falling!

Before I could think, I dove toward where she would land.

That would sound heroic, but that was not what happened.

When I took just one step forward, I saw that she was still hanging from a tree branch by the backs of her knees. She was upside down, so I could see the back of her head. She was holding her skirt down with both hands to keep it from flipping up, but it was definitely a precarious position in more ways than one.

Hey, are you okay—

Just as I called out, she swung her body to build momentum, released her knees from the branch, spun a full one hundred and eighty degrees in midair, and landed perfectly on her feet.

I'm fine, don't worry. I'm wearing shorts underneath.

That's not what I was worried about. Or was it?

Um, you—

She looked back and forth between Natsumi and me.

I'm sorry for not introducing myself sooner. I'm Misaki Amano, a new student!

I'm a third-year and head of the disciplinary committee, Natsumi Shiba. Nice to meet you.

Natsumi introduced herself, then gave me a look that said "your turn."

Second-year, disciplinary committee member, Ryoji Shina.

Um, you were trying to help me, weren't you? Thank you very . . . much?

Misaki looked back and forth between us before bowing politely.

If you felt like we helped you, then it was worth it. I was half expecting you to tell us we were meddling where we shouldn't.

Oh no, I was happy to be recruited by all those clubs, but when they all swarmed me at once like that, it was a bit overwhelming. So thank you, it really helped.

Don't mention it. Maintaining school discipline is our job!

Natsumi puffed out her chest while showing off the disciplinary armband on her arm.

School discipline.

That was rich coming from someone who disrupted it half the time.

By the way, Misaki, what happened earlier was technically a disturbance, so I need to ask you a few questions about the situation. But we might get interrupted again here. How about we head to the disciplinary committee room where we can talk properly—

While casually using her first name, Natsumi reached out toward Misaki. Watching those predatory hands slowly approaching Misaki, my body moved on its own.

Misaki, come on, run!

Huh?

Next thing I knew, I was pulling Misaki Amano's hand and running.

Hey, wait, hold on! Ryoji! Stop! Thief! Student thief!

With the disciplinary committee head's angry voice behind me, I pushed through the crowd, pulling the first year along as we ran through the school.

◇

Pulling Misaki's hand, I escaped behind the school building.

As expected, no one was doing recruitment activities in this area, and there was nobody around.

U-um, Ryoji?

This should be far enough. Natsumi's slow on her feet, and it doesn't look like anyone else is following us.

Looking back, I caught my ragged breath.

Misaki, meanwhile, had a perfectly calm expression and wasn't even winded.

And I thought I had decent stamina for running . . .

I took another sideways look at this new student, Misaki Amano.

She had stamina and athletic ability, and on top of that, she wasn't bad-looking either. Actually, she'd probably be everyone's first choice. Moreover, even in this short time, I could sense a strange charm that let her slip into people's hearts easily. No wonder even the cultural clubs wanted her.

Um . . . uh . . .

Misaki blushed slightly as she looked down at her wrist, still in my grip.

Ah, sorry.

I quickly let go of her hand.

You're probably wondering what that was all about, but if we'd stayed there, you might've gotten sweet-talked into joining the disciplinary committee. I saved you from all of them.

Misaki looked at me with a puzzled expression.

Um, aren't you going to try to recruit me to the disciplinary committee yourself?

Seems like that was what my committee head had in mind.

That girl said stupid things all the time, but the trouble was, when she put her mind to it, she could be persuasive and, above all, charming. An unsuspecting first-year might get tricked into joining. That was why I helped this girl escape.

You're a new student, right? You should go wherever you want. Getting surrounded and pressured into choosing a club like that—you'd only regret it later. Though ours isn't even a club, just a committee.

I don't think I was being tricked . . . at least not yet.

Oops, what a fail.

Those guys from earlier just got a little excited and carried away—they're not really bad people. So if there was any group from earlier that you found interesting, you could check them out later.

Well, earlier you seemed to be listing only those people's misdeeds.

They do bad things and they do good things too. That's just how it is.

I see.

Yeah. That's just high schoolers for you.

That made Misaki laugh.

You seem to know a lot about this school.

Well, I wouldn't say I know a lot, but when you're on the disciplinary committee, you end up dealing with all kinds of people.

What exactly does the disciplinary committee do? In manga and stuff, they're always chasing after rule-breakers with bamboo swords.

That's quite the stereotype . . . We don't carry bamboo swords, though. How should I put it . . . We're like the school's troubleshooters.

Troubleshooters!

Sounds good when you put it like that, but really, we just listen to students' problems and get involved in disputes to try and resolve them. Basically, we're the school's specialized cleanup crew for student problems.

Isn't that kind of thing the teachers' job?

Of course, when it's something serious—like theft or assault, criminal stuff that needs adults involved—the teachers step in. But if it's something students can handle among themselves, then those of us on the disciplinary committee or the student council mediate. There are things students can't tell adults, things adults can't see, things adults don't understand, things beyond adults' reach. In this little world called school, there's a lot of that. That's why people like us are needed.

Misaki listened quietly, watching me intently with her large eyes as I spoke.

Or so I heard from someone else.

So that's why you helped me.

Misaki smiled.

So the disciplinary committee also helps with student consultations, right?

Well, yeah. Though I can't guarantee we'll solve anything.

Then can I ask you a question?

A question?

Misaki Amano pressed her lips together and spoke with a serious expression.

How can I live the ultimate youth?

. . .

That's the question I asked earlier. Could you give me your answer?

Her words were unaffected, her expression innocent and pure, her gaze direct.

I instinctively looked away.

Figure that stuff out yourself. I'm too busy dealing with my own youth to worry about other people's. It's annoying.

Really? From what I heard earlier, it sounds like you're constantly getting involved in other people's youth.

Other people's youth . . . Well, maybe you're right. I'm always getting mixed up in other people's drama, so I have no idea what ultimate youth even looks like.

I found myself smiling bitterly as I thought back on my first year of high school.

So you wouldn't say that joining the disciplinary committee leads to the ultimate experience of youth.

I can't say that. And stop saying "youth" all the time. It's just my personal theory, but people who use the word "youth" in everyday conversation are always a pain in the ass.

Actually, this Misaki girl was more of a pain than I'd expected.

Well, anyway. You should go find whatever the ultimate youth thing is yourself. This school is huge. There's basically everything here—and you could probably get your hands on whatever you want.

Those words came from the heart.

Misaki Amano shone so brightly that even I, who had just met her, could see that she was born to live out the ultimate youth without anyone's help. That is, unless she got tricked by our disciplinary committee head, who might look like a beautiful woman with glasses but actually had a personality that was amusingly twisted. It was bad enough that I got fooled by her smile.

I've made up my mind!

With the cherry tree behind her, Misaki raised her voice as if making a declaration to the world.

Made up your mind? About what?

Misaki Amano pointed straight ahead.

At me—or rather, at the disciplinary armband around my upper arm.

Misaki Amano from Class 1-3, requesting to join the disciplinary committee! Please let me in!

As I stood there stunned, cherry petals fluttered down over Misaki as if in blessing.