“Why?” I asked Junka on the road home.
Why had the planted cigarettes and lighter been found in Yahara’s bag instead? It was surely a grand riddle.
Junka’s response was clear, “Well, I’d gotten real tired during badminton today, so I went back to the class to grab myself a drink I’d brought. That was when I found the stuff in there, and I figured somebody was trying to frame me, so I quickly stuffed it deep in Yahara’s bag.”
“How’d you know it was Yahara’s doing? You can’t have known that it was Yahara way back then, could you?”
“I didn’t really know, but remember how he ripped up the June edition of the school paper right in front of us?”
“Yeah, he did do that.”
“He really pissed me off then, and I thought it was unforgivable, which is pretty rare for me.”
Junka began mailing loads of winning postcards in nearby mailboxes. All the participants were winners.
“So I put that in there just to kind of mess with him a little. I never thought that the extended homeroom would turn out that way. I had considered Yahara to be the culprit, or at least the possibility, but I wasn’t sure. The only important point was that he’d bought bread instead of bringing his own lunch. If he’d needed to rummage around in there, he would have noticed earlier, and things wouldn’t have turned out so dramatic.”
I still had something I wanted to ask.
“Why were there two cigarette butts? If he got caught, he’d have had no excuses, so why’d he use the extra time?”
“Easy, that’s one for you and one for me. Seems like he knows we come to school together every day. He was also gunning for you, Rouji-kun.”
I felt like somebody had just poured ice water down my back. Junka put a hand to his chest.
“That’s it for this case, Rouji-kun.”
We waited for the train at our platform.
“Still, Yahara being jealous was a surprise. It’s pretty creepy to think of how he was constantly watching you and looking for failures.”
Junka agreed with a, “True,” before continuing prudently, “He was jealous of me, but I’m jealous of him, ironically. He strikes directly at what he doesn’t like. I never had such a pure hatred, just a bit of petty irritation. Or should I call it simple? When I think about his simple taking on life in his own way, I get a little envious.”
The train rumbled in. In quivering windows I saw my reflection, no less simple or straightforward than Yahara. Secretly, it made me proud.
Translator’s Note:
I guess Junka’s aware that he’s a gimmick shoved in with no real substance, then.
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