Chapter 87: Final exam

Finals at Takamari Academy spanned five days:

Monday: Japanese, Math.
Tuesday: English, Chemistry.
Wednesday: World History, Health and P.E.
Thursday: Classical Chinese, Biology.
Friday: Japanese History, Home Economics.

Just one more subject than midterms, but two extra days of testing. The additional subject, P.E., was similar to its Korean counterpart: a handout a week before the exam, essentially saying, “Memorize this, and you’ll be fine.” The practical assessments held more weight anyway.

My goal was a 90% average, over 900 points total. The material was still high school level, thankfully… although it was more like the advanced material covered in the final year of high school.

But today, I was feeling great!

I woke up early, got ready, and left the house, the morning air crisp and cool, a welcome change from the usual summer humidity. The classrooms, at least, were air-conditioned.

I walked my usual route to school, and there she was, Aya, her light blue summer uniform crisp and neat, her face glowing in the morning sun. “Aya!” I called out, and she smiled.

“Rina~ good morning.”

“Good morning, Aya.” Aya always looked so elegant, so… refined.

She took my hand, her fingers intertwining with mine. “You look much better today.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t feeling well over the weekend, but I’m fine now.”

“I’m glad. I was worried about you last week.”

“Hee hee… sorry,” I mumbled, looking away, my cheeks flushing slightly. Aya’s concern, her attentiveness to my well-being, always warmed my heart, but it also made me feel… guilty. She had her own burdens, her own struggles, yet she always put me first.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” she said, her gaze soft.

“I’m feeling great!” I grinned, and she smiled back. We continued our walk to school, hand in hand.

“Mizuki said she’ll be a little late today. Let’s go ahead.”

“Oh? Is something wrong?”

“She said it was a family matter… I’m not sure.” Aya probably knew, or at least suspected, the reason for Mizuki’s absence.

“She’ll be here before the exams, so don’t worry.”

“Yeah… the exams are what matters.”

“Have you studied for the math exam?”

“Ah… math…” I couldn’t tell her that I’d almost cried over the calculus problems.

‘This school’s curriculum is ridiculous! First-years shouldn’t be doing this level of math…!’ I had enough self-preservation instincts not to voice that thought out loud, though. “I… studied a little.”

“It’s okay, Rina. You’ll do fine,” Aya said, squeezing my hand reassuringly. Her smile, her unwavering support… it always gave me a boost of confidence. She was my lucky charm. Being without her… was almost unimaginable now.

****

The school was quiet, the tension of exam day palpable. Even the air in the classroom felt heavy, thick with anticipation and anxiety. Mizuki arrived a little later than usual, her usual cheerful entrance replaced by a quiet wave as she slipped into her seat, her expression tired, her usual energy absent.

“Mizuki… are you okay?” I asked, concerned, and she offered a weak smile.

“Yeah, just a bit tired… didn’t sleep well last night…” She was clearly trying to appear cheerful, but the exhaustion in her eyes was unmistakable. I nodded, not wanting to pry.

The morning self-study period began. I opened my textbook, trying to cram as much Classical Japanese grammar as possible, the complex sentences swimming before my eyes, refusing to stay in my memory.

‘Mizuki…’ I glanced at her; she was staring out the window, her chin resting on her hand, dark circles under her eyes. ‘What happened last night…?’

But I had to focus. The ten minutes before an exam were crucial. As the first bell rang, signaling the start of the exam, I pushed my worries about Mizuki aside. The teacher entered, carrying a stack of exam papers, and we all watched nervously as he placed them on the desks. “Alright, settle down and get ready.” I received my exam paper, my hand trembling slightly as I wrote my name.

‘Just Japanese and Math today. I can do this.’

****

The first day of finals was over. The exams had felt… similar to the midterms: difficult, requiring guesswork and every last minute of the allotted time. At this rate, I’d be lucky to beat Fujimoto, let alone Mizuki…

My classmates, relieved that the first day was over, wore a mix of expressions, but Mizuki’s quiet demeanor persisted, a shadow hanging over her usual cheerful self.

We were discussing where to eat lunch when she spoke. “Should we get convenience store bentos and eat in the student council room?”

“…Is that okay?” I asked, surprised. Convenience store bentos…?

“Sure,” Aya agreed readily, also surprising me, and I nodded, Mizuki’s unusual behavior making me feel uneasy. We bought our bentos: a cute onigiri set for me, pasta for Aya, and curry rice for Mizuki, and headed towards the student council room, which had become our designated study space during finals week.

But something was… off about Mizuki. She picked up her plastic utensils, then stared out the window, lost in thought, her usual playful banter absent. She seemed to have something on her mind, but was hesitant to speak. Finally, Aya broke the silence, her voice gentle. “Mizuki, is something wrong?”

Mizuki hesitated, then finally spoke. “Actually… I got a call from my father last night.”

“A call…?” The words filled me with a sense of foreboding.

“He… suggested I study abroad, starting next semester.”

A heavy silence fell over the room. That… wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Huh…?” I was the first to speak, my voice barely above a whisper. Neither the novel nor my own memories contained any mention of Mizuki studying abroad. I stared at her, bewildered.

She forced a smile. “He said it would be… beneficial for the family.” Her voice was calm, but her expression… troubled.

“What do you think, Mizuki?” Aya asked gently.

Mizuki hesitated. “I don’t know… I don’t want to go, but… I’m also scared to tell my father that.” Her voice was unusually quiet, vulnerable. Aya gently rubbed her back, a comforting gesture, and I watched them silently, my mind reeling. This… wasn’t in the novel. The Asakura family, the ones who ran the Takamari Foundation, sending Mizuki away…?

Why would they do that? They owned one of the most prestigious schools in Japan, why send their daughter abroad…?

“Mizuki,” I asked, “do you know… why they want you to go?”

She tried to smile, but it faltered. “…The elders… they think I’m too… free-spirited. They want me to… learn some self-control in a stricter environment. They think sending me abroad would be… good for me.”

It was… heartbreaking. Mizuki’s playful, rebellious nature was a reaction to the stifling expectations placed upon her, a way to breathe, to express herself in a world that demanded conformity. It had been mentioned in the novel… She was much more sensitive, more vulnerable, than she appeared.

“I… I’ve been too selfish, haven’t I? They’re probably doing this because I haven’t been following their plans…” Her voice cracked slightly.

“Mizuki, you’re not selfish,” Aya said firmly. “You were just being yourself. What’s wrong with that?” Her words were simple, yet powerful, and Mizuki looked at her, her eyes wide.

Aya continued, her gaze steady, “If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to.”

Mizuki bit her lip, her gaze flickering between Aya and me, then she looked down at her hands, her voice small. “I know… but… what if refusing makes things worse…?”

“I was late today because I was… discussing this with my family. I don’t think I can avoid it this time.” A heavy silence fell over us. I didn’t know what to say. This hadn’t happened in the novel. The Mizuki in the novel had always been by the protagonist’s side, sharing his adventures, facing challenges and overcoming obstacles together.

If Mizuki left… the thought was unbearable, a sudden tightness in my chest.

“Mizuki…” I took a deep breath, channeling the protagonist, searching for the right words. “I think it’s important for you to tell them how you feel. And Takamari Academy is one of the best schools in Japan. It’s their loss if you leave, not yours.”

Mizuki looked at me, her eyes widening slightly, then she nodded, as if my words had given her the answer she’d been searching for. “Thank you, Rina-tan! You’re the best!”

Seeing her smile, a genuine, bright smile, eased the tightness in my chest. I hoped… I really hoped… I’d said the right thing.