Classroom of Accomplices: The Honor Student Falls by Her Hand - Falling for you

It was already past mid-July. Kasumigahara City had been blanketed in sweltering heat day after day, and the temperature refused to drop even at night. As Murakami Hiroto pedaled his bicycle, he found the feeling of his T-shirt clinging to his sweaty back utterly unpleasant. The time was nearly nine in the evening. He had just left Uchiyama Sara's apartment, Corpo Himawari, and was now heading back to his own home. His heart still held the lingering chill of her fingertips and the afterimage of that quiet smile. (*I don't want to go home.*) His legs felt heavy as he pushed the pedals. The closer he got to his house, the colder the depths of his chest grew. It felt like being the only one carrying winter through a sweltering July night. The Murakami household was located in a new residential area called South Hills Kasumigaoka, a fifteen-minute walk from Shuumon High School. A tidy two-story house, twelve years old. From the outside, it looked like an utterly ordinary, happy family home. Hiroto parked his bicycle in the bike rack and let out a long breath. Then he opened the front door. "I'm home." As bright and cheerful as he could manage. He put the honor student's mask back on, even at home. "...Welcome back. You're late." His mother, Murakami Youko, who had been sitting on the living room sofa, slowly raised her head. A neat black bob. Her bangs were perfectly even, dyed to hide the gray hairs that had begun to multiply. Her large, beautiful double-lidded eyes stared fixedly at Hiroto. A quiet pressure that seemed to smile but wasn't smiling at all. On the ring finger of her left hand, the wedding ring of her departed husband still remained. Forty-nine years old. With her youthful features, she passed as a "wonderful mother" in public. But inside this house, that smile peeled away. "You've been awfully late lately. Where did you go today? Cram school is off, isn't it? You're not even going to club activities—what are you doing?" Rapid-fire, as if talking over him. Her tone rose slightly at the end of each sentence. "...I was just studying at the library. I can't concentrate at home." A lie. He hadn't been to the library in weeks. But Hiroto unconsciously formed a bright smile. "I see... Then, would you show me your phone? I'm curious how much you're using those messaging apps." His heart jumped. (*Please, stop.*) He bit down on the words that nearly escaped, crushing them between his molars. "...Of course. Here." Hiroto smiled and held out his phone. His mother took it and swiped the screen. Her fingertips moved slowly, as if inspecting a possession that belonged to her. Hiroto felt the bottom of his stomach turn cold. "Oh my. This girl, Uchiyama-san—you two are quite close, aren't you? You're messaging her almost every day. ...So, have you been spending time with her lately?" Youko's gaze stabbed into him like a blade. "She's a classmate, and she sits next to me. We're just friends." "Do 'just friends' message each other this much every day? You have cram school, and mock exams are coming up. I'm saying this because I care about your future." His mother's catchphrase. *"I'm saying this because I care about you."* Hiroto had always been bound by those words. "Sorry. I'll be more careful. Anyway, it's late, so I'm going to take a bath." Trying to end the conversation, Hiroto reached for the living room door. "Wait." A quiet voice from behind him. "Starting tomorrow, your curfew is 5:30 PM. Come straight home after school. And take a break from club activities. Soccer has nothing to do with your future, does it?" Hiroto didn't turn around. "...Fine." He forced the word out and headed to his room on the second floor. The moment he closed the door, all the strength drained from his body, and he collapsed onto his bed. (*My time with Uchiyama is being taken away.*) The center of his chest filled with something cold. Hiroto noticed his fingertips trembling slightly. As if the daytime heat had been a lie, the core of his body was freezing. He pulled out his phone. In the corner of the screen—just returned to him by his mother—there was one unread message. *"Today was fun too."* Hiroto stared at those words. (*What am I supposed to do?*) The screen of the phone he clutched blurred with tears. The sunlight that arrived right after the rainy season ended burned mercilessly into the classrooms of Shuumon High School. The July breeze was lukewarm, and outside the window, the trees on the hill behind the school swayed their leaves languidly. Three days had passed since that night. Hiroto went straight home after school every day. He couldn't exchange words with Uchiyama even when their eyes met at school. The only moments he could breathe were when, beneath the desk, her fingertips brushed against his ever so slightly. And even that faint contact was pursued relentlessly by a scorching gaze. Lunch break. The classroom was filled with the smell of boxed lunches and the clamor of students. At his desk, Hiroto opened the lunch his mother had made. He had no appetite. He just gripped his chopsticks. "Hey, Hiroto-kun." A bright voice from directly in front of him. When he looked up, Yano Yuina was standing there. Semi-long hair in a bright color. The ends were curled, tied into a single ponytail with a pink scrunchie. Large, round, charming eyes. Dimples appeared when she smiled. In her left ear, a heart-shaped earring—a violation of school rules—caught the light. She was a flashy girl at the center of the class. "Lately, Hiroto-kun, you haven't been coming to club, and you leave early. What's up? Did you get a girlfriend or something?" Yano's voice made the classroom air tremble lightly. Her large eyes fixed on Hiroto, then flicked briefly toward the seat next to him. Uchiyama was by the window, reading a paperback. "...It's nothing. I just have things to do at home." Hiroto forced a smile and answered vaguely. "Hmm... Oh, by the way," Yano smiled. Her dimples showed clearly. "I heard Uchiyama-san's dad used to be a NEET. Like, he didn't work for a long time, and now he's doing part-time at a supermarket. Is that actually true?" The classroom fell silent. Hands picking at lunches stopped, and students who had been talking in the hallway turned around to see what was happening. Hiroto's heart froze solid. "Yuina, what are you—" "Because it's the truth, right? I'm just telling everyone the truth. Uchiyama-san's been from a single-parent household all along, and her mom left home, right? So her dad raised her alone, but he wasn't even working? That must've been rough. It seems like nobody in our class knew about it." Yano raised her voice, still smiling. Deliberately, so everyone could hear. "Hey, doesn't that make you feel sorry for her? Well, I guess he's trying hard at the supermarket now, though." Snickers leaked from various corners of the classroom. "Wait, seriously? Uchiyama's family is like that?" "Isn't that messed up? I thought everyone at our school came from normal families." "He wasn't working—so he was a NEET, right? That's hilarious." Loud, pointed voices were hurled at Uchiyama. Uchiyama didn't even try to close her paperback. She just stared fixedly at the same page. No emotion surfaced on her beautiful profile. As if she had known from the very beginning that she would become a target of bullying. (*No, Sara. You haven't done anything wrong.*) Hiroto screamed in his heart. But that scream stuck in his throat and wouldn't form words. He couldn't stand up. He couldn't raise his voice. Yano's laughter mixed with the heat of the classroom, piercing Hiroto's ears. "I just thought, as a classmate, I'd like to know more about Uchiyama-san, you know?" Yano walked over to Uchiyama's desk and looked down at her, smiling. "Uchiyama-san never talks about herself, so I thought I'd tell everyone for her. It's the truth, so why is Uchiyama-san hiding it? Don't you think that's weird?" Several students nodded in agreement at Yano's words. The circle of laughter spread wider. (*Someone, stop her.*) Hiroto bit his lip. He tasted blood. But no one stopped Yano. That silence was what wounded Uchiyama most deeply. Uchiyama quietly closed her paperback. Then she stood up calmly. Her small back passed in front of Hiroto. Her face was hidden by her bangs, and he couldn't see it. "Bathroom." With just that, Uchiyama left the classroom. "Aww, she left." Yano pouted, looking bored. Beneath his desk, Hiroto clenched his fist. His nails dug into his palm. (*I couldn't protect her.*) He felt like the ugliest human being imaginable. After school. The classroom was empty. The footsteps heading to club activities faded away, the hallway noise vanished, and all that remained in the world was the low hum of the air conditioning. Hiroto sat at his desk. The seat next to him was empty. Uchiyama hadn't returned to the classroom after that. Only her bag remained, abandoned beside her desk. (*I ran away.*) The taste of iron still lingered in his mouth. "Damn it..." Hiroto slammed his fist against his desk. BANG!! A hard sound echoed through the quiet classroom. Again. BANG!! The bones in his fingers screamed. The skin split, and blood seeped out. Even so, the pain did nothing to ease this unbearable helplessness deep in his chest. "Why can't I stand up... why can't I..." Anger at his mother's control. Anger at Yano's malice. And above all, a fierce anger at himself swirled in his chest. (*Someone like me has no right to be beside Sara.*) Hiroto stared at his bloodied fist. Then he grabbed his bag and bolted from the classroom. He ran. Just ran. The summer evening sun cast long shadows across the school building. He slipped out the back gate, down the hill, and sprinted through the area in front of the station. He was out of breath, and sweat stung his eyes. He passed under the Minase Line overpass and headed east, east, along a road lined with the shuttered storefronts of an old shopping district. He no longer knew what he could do. But he felt like he would die if he didn't see Uchiyama. By the time he reached Uchiyama's apartment, Corpo Himawari, the sky had sunk into a deep indigo. A thirty-year-old, two-story apartment building. The faint smell of laundry detergent drifted from the coin laundry on the first floor. Hiroto caught his breath as he ran up the stairs. The nameplate reading "Uchiyama" on room 205 floated dimly in the backlight. "...Hey, open up." He knocked on the door slowly, three times. No answer. "I know you're in there. ...It's me. Hiroto." His voice trembled. He didn't know how long he stood there. From beyond the door came the faint sound of fabric rustling. Then, the small click of a lock being undone. The door opened, and Uchiyama Sara stood there. Long, glossy black hair. Her hair, flowing down to her back, shimmered faintly in the hallway light. Her deep black eyes were wet with tears. A face that should have been expressionless now looked more fragile and pained than he had ever seen. "...Come in." Uchiyama turned her back and walked deeper into the room. Hiroto followed silently. Her small, flower-patterned shoulders trembled slightly. The room was deathly quiet. Uchiyama sat on the floor by the window and hugged her knees. Her voice, unlike her usual self, came from behind her back. "At school, they laughed at me." Her voice trembled faintly. "They called my dad a NEET. ...It's the truth, so I couldn't say anything back. My family—my mom isn't around, and my dad couldn't work for a long time. ...I was too ashamed to tell you, Hiroto. I'm sorry." Uchiyama's shoulders shook. "...You should stay away from me now. If you're with me, they'll laugh at you too. You're someone who has to be perfect, right? If you stay with a gloomy girl like me, you'll be ruined." Her voice was nearly swallowed by tears. "I'm sorry. ...Please, stay away." Those word

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Episode 4

Name: Classroom of Accomplices: The Honor Student Falls by Her Hand
Author: Novelia

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