"What have you got there?" — Raydon was looking at the player lying in my palm. — How do you call him that?
— Yes, there is one person here who likes to spread her hands, — I said sadly. — She beat me for six years, but she has never broken anything until now.
"Well, there's always a first time for everything," he patted me on the shoulder. — And what kind of person?
— Koyama Shin. And let's go already, there's not much left before the ceremony. — After sitting through the second lesson, we were standing at the classroom, intending to go to the assembly hall for the opening ceremony. — Well, I was counting on the player at the ceremony.
— Koyama Shin? Are you familiar with Koyama Shin?!
— Is she such a celebrity? Why are you so surprised?
— Damn, she is considered the strongest teenager in Japan, the youngest Teacher in the last thirty years, probably! And you just say that the Genius of the Koyama clan has been beating you for six years?!
What ? Damn. Damn, damn, damn!
"The genius of the Koyama clan?" I asked cautiously.
— And you thought! This clan is generally rich in geniuses. They say their head, Koyama Kenta, also became a Teacher at the age of sixteen. So the public believes that Koyama Shin, like her grandfather, will receive a Virtuoso at the age of thirty.
Purely for reference, if anyone does not know, a Virtuoso is the highest rank in martial arts. There are at most five hundred such people for the billions that live in this world. And they are, believe me, real monsters.
However, it's not Sheena and her ranks and skills that are bothering me right now. That's just to think about it in a more relaxed atmosphere. At home, for example.
— Mm, cool. A virtuoso is cool," I replied thoughtfully.
— Listen, it turns out that you've known Koyama Shin for six years?!
Op-pa. Did he just realize that now?
— Actually, I've known her all my life - the second, at least. — She's my neighbor, if anything.
— You, neighbor... you... — the guy hung up. "You're lucky," he breathed.
Lucky? Did he just say: "Lucky"?! I shook my head. What a fool a man is.
— What are you waving your head at?
— Never mind, we'd better go, or we'll really be late.
After asking an unfamiliar sophomore the way to the assembly hall, we directed our steps to the opening ceremony.
The ceremony itself was a standard event held by all schools. At least, that's how I met every school year in high school.
All the students were lined up in classes in the assembly hall, and in less well—off schools - in the gym, and forced to listen, sometimes for several hours, to the tedious speeches of the director and teachers. Around the second half of this action, students began to be given more informative things about the school. It was then that I learned about a certain annual tournament that would begin not at the beginning of the second trimester, but at the end of the first. And then the president of the school board and one of the newcomers of this year spoke. The president scared everyone, and the newcomer agitated diligently to study. Reminding everyone that participation in school clubs is mandatory, the President said that after the ceremony, clubs will arrange presentations, which he strongly recommends to attend. Finally, summing up all this verbiage, the director wished the students good luck in the new academic year and, after finishing the ceremony, dismissed everyone.
But, apparently, this day was intended to melt my brain, and this ceremony was part of his great plan. For nothing else can I explain the fact that the headmaster of this school turned out to be an old man of Kent. The head of the Koyama clan and my neighbor.
* * *
— M-yes… Listen, Ohayashi-kun, do you know the name of our director? I asked.
The opening ceremony had just ended, and Raydon and I were standing at the very exit, going out into the courtyard.
— Uh-uh... — the guy looked at me with a surprised, suspicious look. — Koyama Kenta. It's strange that you don't know this, being their neighbor.
— Well, yes, well, yes. Koyama Kenta," I muttered thoughtfully. — You see, I didn't even suspect that he was the director of the Dakisyuro, so there was a hope that I imagined him.
— Hope? — the brunette asked in surprise.
— Oh, don't pay attention, my relationship with the Koyama family is a bit complicated.
— I see. You'd better tell me what you're going to do now? Are you going home or are we going to wander around the school?
— Yes, what can be interesting here? And if there is something, we will see it over time anyway.
— Sakurai-kun, have you forgotten that joining the school club is mandatory? And today is just the presentation of clubs. We should take a walk, take a closer look.
"Clubs..." My face twisted. — And how could I forget? — A slight dissatisfaction naturally appeared in the voice.
I wasn't against school clubs, I wasn't interested in them, and I just ignored them. But in the Dakisyuro, this case was mandatory and that's why it annoyed me. I could find a more rational use for the few hours a day that club activities will take.
"Judging by your face, you're not eager to join anywhere," Raydon said with a chuckle. — Is there a reason? Or just laziness?
— You see, it's not that I think such an undertaking is pointless, quite the contrary, but I already have something to do. So I'm just sorry to waste my time on the school club.
— Hmm, I understand. In that case, you should choose something..." he snapped his fingers, "unusual. In this school, if not all, then a lot of clubs take an active part in competitions, exhibitions, presentations. In the Dakisyuro, clubs are being helped in this by all means. So you need to choose one that simply does not have the opportunity to go somewhere and perform somewhere. Something like... well, I don't know, an occult science club.
— Oh, well, figs, is there really such a thing?
— Yes, how do I know, maybe there is. This is me, for example. Well, or maybe you can find a club where minimal participation is allowed. In any case, we need to look.
— Well, then let's go to the review…
I was interrupted by a girl who, running past, bumped into my shoulder. The jolt turned her around a hundred and eighty degrees. Stopping, she found herself face to face with us. And her face was rather surprised. Why would that be?
Although, first of all, it's not her facial expression that catches the eye, but her hair. Green hair. A sharp chin, a snub nose, neat lips, emerald—colored eyes - a beautiful, overall appearance. But this green obscenity on her head, gathered in two long tails, irritates the eye a lot and distracts from everything else.
But now the surprise on her face was gone, and irritation replaced it.
— Have you completely lost your fear, you little bastard, to stand in the middle of the road? There are actually people walking around here.
I raised my eyebrows in surprise and pointedly looked around. Raydon and I were standing at the curb, on the right side of the road.
— Excuse me? I asked.
— You. You're bothering me. Pass. Who are you anyway?
I was so freaked out that I even answered:
— Sakurai Shinji.
— Hey, aren't you the weakling that Koyama lectured to this morning?
Well, here it begins. Looks like I'm getting famous. Well, it's been such a... long day.
— And with whom, in fact, I have the honor…
— It doesn't concern you, you jerk! Better answer, why are you bothering me to walk?
Mm, how I want to get some matyugnut.
— What a well-mannered girl. Which is not surprising, with such a hair color.
I think I even managed to confuse her.
— What does my hair have to do with it at all?
— Yes, Amsterdam was reminded.
- what? "What is it?" she asked in bewilderment.
— Nothing, nothing, it's just me, about my own, about a girl's. — And pushing Raydon forward, he decided to end the conversation: — Well, we'll go, perhaps. Good luck.
Passing by her, we managed to take only a couple of steps when the green hair woke up.
— Well, stop! I haven't let you go yet," we heard behind us. Let go? Who is she to talk
to me like
that? Turning around abruptly and almost instantly getting close to her, I literally hissed in her face:
— If you, madam, do not understand polite language, then I will say otherwise: get off, trash!
And satisfied with the expression of surprise and confusion on her face, he returned to Raydon:
— Let's go already, finally. Let's look at the local clubs.
After moving a decent distance away from the stunned girl, Rai-don asked:
— Sakurai-kun, I wonder what is the connection between the color of her hair and Amsterdam?
— I haven't been there myself, but I read once that the prostitutes there wear bright green wigs. Like, a sign of a profession. — And, by the way, I didn't lie. In this world, prostitutes really wear green wigs. However, only in Amsterdam. No, maybe there is such a phenomenon in other places, but I have not heard about it. In this world, the fashion for unnatural hair color is generally popular, which I don't understand. Although I probably didn't put it that way, there is no fashion. Blue, green, pink. These colors are as familiar and natural as natural light brown, black, red. It's not that the entire population of this world goes around with multicolored hair, no. But there are enough such unique ones.
— Hmm, how are you her. I should have remembered.
The road we were following led directly to two buildings connected by a passageway at the second floor level. And it was there, as a third-year student running by told us, that the presentation took place. There was a long five—story building to our left, and a smaller three-story building to our right. Groups of schoolchildren were bustling in the courtyard, arranging tables, chairs, curbstones. They dragged some posters, installed podiums and stands. And judging by the speed at which people were running, in about twenty minutes they will be ready to represent their clubs.
— Well, let's go inside? We can't wait for them to be ready," Raydon suggested.
— Aren't they all going to be on the street?
— No, you're not. Here are the noisiest, like musical ones, and those whose performance does not fit into the club room.
And the fuss was increasing. A girl with pale pink hair and an armful of some rolls ran past us. Right in the middle of the courtyard, next to a pile of boards, two guys were swearing, and not far from them, a third was lying on the ground, saddled by a girl in some kind of Gothic dress, who was slapping the guy on the cheeks.