CH 3 (1/2)

I stand in front of the luxurious campus that gave a majestic vibe, the High School I hoped to enter.

At the entrance, there’s a sign with the words ‘Please head this way to the school admission interview←’.

This may be a door leading to a dream, but to me, I see a graveyard of dreams.

The chilly wind of midwinter blew by.

But I didn’t feel any cold.

That’s because I’m in no mood to pay attention to such things. My entire body is probably numb all over.

The adults are often nagging away at the cram school teaching methods prevalent in current times, but I really want to ask them, aren’t you educated through this method as well? What stupid things are you doing then?

It’s because they’re always yapping away that my dream school now holds its entrance interviews after the Common Tests! That began two years ago!

It’s still plausible if it were some AO exam or some admission recommendation, but after the normal written exams, we still need to go through some practical tests (for certain subjects only), and continue with interviews. According to rumors, these aren’t child’s play; but important parts of the entrance exams.

Anyway, can I enter this High School? To add on, can I complete this delusion of a plan? The interview that’ll last for approximately 15 minutes today shall decide the direction I take in my life.

My heart’s beating wildly, almost about to up out of my mouth.

“I wanna go home…”

What interview? I can’t do it at all.

It’s not that I’m bad at interacting with others, but an interview’s a whole lot different as compared to interacting between friends.

I did two mock interviews in school before, and they were so bad the examining teacher’s face was cringing. The others were about the same, but I think mine were exceptionally bad amongst them.

I would always fumble with my words, say the wrong things, and even bite my tongue accidentally. Once I make a mistake, the anxiety within me will cause me to make more mistakes. Because of that, my mind will become confused, to a point where I don’t know what I’m saying.

Be honest and say what you want to say. But even if the examiner said so, that it’s a good thing to be honest, my mind’s all confused because my inspiration to talk is gone.

Argh~even now, I still feel like dying. I really want to find a hole to sneak into.

I never had a proper talk with any adults other than my parents and relatives, and now, I have to talk about ‘myself’ and ‘my dream’s and all sorts of things in front of those adults. Spare me the agony already.

So please, don’t get down to the bottom of things and ask me everything!

Please!?

But no matter how much I earnestly pray for it in my heart, it won’t work. Time continues to tick down.

“Argh~! Is it time to gather now~ d.a.m.n it~”

At this moment, I, who’ve no courage to run away, can only take off my coat and walk into the school building, stammered as I gave my test ID, the middle school I graduated from, my name, and I arrived at the rest room.

“I’ll call for you a moment later, so please wait over there. The bathroom’s just right outside, please make use of it when you want to.”

“O-O-Okay! I-I get…it”

The woman leading me “No need to fret over it. It’s alright.” gives me a wry smile, and leaves the room.

There is no other student in this room other than me.

And she tells me not to fret.

Even if she said so, I have to be respectable when an adult treats me politely.

And this rest room is no different from the reception room. What am I supposed to do about how sunken the sofa is?

Well, I’ll be doomed if I don’t sort out what I want to say. If I enter the unique atmosphere of an interview with a blank mind and get questioned by those adults, there’ll only be a disastrous sitaution.

Just say out your own dreams; that was what an uppercla.s.sman of mine said.

Haha. I chuckled.

To me, there’s nothing I can just spew out–

Knock knock, there was a st.u.r.dy knocking sound from the door.

“Yes…I’m inside!”

It’s time. Already!? Isn’t it too fast!? What’s the point of me being inside the rest room?

I harbor a great umbrage within me as I had this thought, and get up from my seat.

“Ah, just sit where you are. It’s another interviewee coming in.”

The guide told me, and from behind her, a girl dressed in navy blue sailor uniform walked in.

—I inadvertently gasped.

Normally, my rating of a girl will be divided between pretty and cute, but this girl managed to scoff aside such dualistic parameters.

This girl’s extremely pretty, extremely cute, and extremely beautiful.

It feels like she’s the embodiment of all the terms relating of beauty I can think of.

She has droopy eyes, a pet.i.te face, and a slender build.

Inexplicably, she has a bit of an otherworldly presence around her.

Especially shocking is her silky smooth long hair. This is the first time I’m seeing someone with such beautiful hair from close range.

The female guide repeated the same instructions to the girl as she did to me.

The girl in sailor uniform remained silent and nodded her head tersely.

The guide then walked out of the room.

One, two, three seconds. The girl stood there, unmoving, as she stared at the door.

“Th…Th-th-thank you, very much! I-I-I understand!”

The girl suddenly lowered her head at the door when there was no one there.

…Eh? What’s the situation now?

The girl lifts her head again, and she stops.

One second, two seconds, three seconds..

And then, she tentatively turns around. Once her eyes catch sight of me, her face immediately becomes flush red.

“Erm…that’s because…I’m being nervous…!”

She shook her head hard as she waved her hands fl.u.s.teredly.

“Ah…ahh, that’s why…”

That’s why…she’s a lot more dull-witted than usual or something? If that’s the case, it’ll be a real pity.

Speaking of which, is she really going to be alright for the interview?

“I’m an interviewee too”, I say as I prompt her to sit down.

But it’s really great to see someone more tense than I am. I can at least calm myself somewhat upon seeing her. Ah, I think this is what they mean by feeling comfort from seeing someone is a more dire state than I am.

I stare at the girl, who has her head lowered, and her hands were fidgeting about.

She’s cute, very cute.

And because she’s so cute, I’m a little attracted by her.

She feels a little hard to approach, like some rich princess or something.

Tick, tock.

The sound of the clock in the room, which I had never noticed, clearly rings in my consciousness.

There’s only two people in the room, me and the girl. Both of us haven’t done anything, and our eyes haven’t met.

It seems there’s still some time until the interview begins.

…Shall I start talking with her about something?

Just when I start to think about it, another form of tension rises within me.

What shall I say to her?

The girl immediately lifts her eyes and met mine’s.

Swoosh. I immediately lower my stare, and from a corner of my eyes, I see the girl doing the same thing as I did.

What do I do about this atmosphere? It’s making my heart itch.

It’ll be troubling to be talked to in a rest room before an interview, is it not? Maybe she’s sorting through what she wants to say…ahh, speaking of which, what do I do about myself? The reasons why I chose this school, the good things about this school? I wanted to finalize what I wanted to say yesterday, but I was unable to do so before I somehow fell asleep. I also did nothing today, and before I knew it, it’s about time for the interview. It’s over. It’s too late for me to do anything now. I’ll rot away before I can even break into pieces—

“W…well…about the interview. I-I heard that success is decided within 3 minutes!”

This sudden voice caused my body to jerk in surprise.

I turn towards the girl, and finds her staring at me with her eyes blazing.

“3 minutes…? I thought…the interview’s 15 minutes long?”

Pressed by the girl’s stare, I hastily answer.

Our stares never met right before this. It seems she’s the type of person who won’t back down once she sets her mind on something.

But I know she’s trying her best to tell me something. I just wish that I can understand her.

“Ahh…hm. Isn’t it written on a book listing strategies for an interview?”

After I said this, the girl nods stiffly.

Okay, now that’s a successful explanation.

As the girl started this conversation, I can naturally continue on.

“Why 3 minutes?”

“Because, the first impression, is very important.”

“Ahh, I see. I heard of that before, but as far as I know, the first impression is decided within 3 seconds or 30…”

“3, minutes!”

The girl widens her eyes as she frantically emphasizes. This princess here is going rampant.

“Eh!? Ah, sorry!”

What’s going on!? Did I say something to anger her? I wonder as I apologize.

“Ah…sorry.”

The girl then lowered her head dejectedly. No no, what exactly is going on here?

“…3 seconds, or 30 seconds is too short. If you don’t spend enough time together, you won’t understand…if you don’t, it’ll be troubling, if you make a decision, at that instant or something.”

“O-okay. In other words, though there’s a lot of sayings about how first impressions are made within a short time, it’s actually done in 3 minutes since it’s not too long or too short? That’s why you want to say that the first 3 minutes of an interview is very important.”

The girl nods twice stiffly. It seems she’s a little happier now, probably because I understood her. Good good.

…Speaking of which, is it really alright to go for the interview like that?

“Once I enter the room, I greet them, introduce my name, my identification number, school name, sit down, talk for a little; that will last 3 minutes.”

“That’s how an interview goes. But speaking of which, it’ll take about 30 seconds until you sit down. The ‘talk for a little’ part will have to go on for about 2 minutes and 30 seconds, right?”

I feel this ‘talk for a little part’ is very important. Is it really okay to just touch on this aspect so casually?

“Conversation, ball, catch…”

“Eh?”

“…Catch, ball…?”

“Oh, yes. In an interview conversation, catchball is important.”

Her English is really weak. However, I think catchball is Gratuitous English, no? (TN: it actually means catching a ball, or to take a conversational topic and respond accordingly)

“Ahh…!”

“I can’t do any catchball here. Speaking of which, what’s with you?”

“…I forgot to mention ‘knock on the door’ just now.”

The girl suddenly lowered her head dejectedly.

“Let’s get back to what we’re talking about. Isn’t that a good thing? You won’t forget about what to do when you take an interview formally.”

Hm…I do find her to be an interesting person, but I don’t think it’ll be a good impression on the interviewer.

It seems she still can’t get used to school lifestyle too well, and if I’m a teacher, I probably wouldn’t want her to enroll in this school. Oh! Is that some great discovery I made? That there’s a higher chance of me being accepted if I show that I’m very good at adapting to school life?

I turn my head around as I look over at the girl’s face, and she tilts her head with a smile.

She’s cute…no, wait

I’m thinking that this girl doesn’t seem to understand really well this discovery I just made.

There’s no way out of this? I sighed, and the girl immediately shows a look of despair as she’s ostensibly defeated.

“…Because…I’m nervous, I…become this naggy…sorry,”

Now will be a situation: “Quiz question, is there a need to apologize here?”

Well…

Maybe…here?

“Erm, that sigh just now wasn’t over anything. It’s not about you.”

The girl immediately shows a smile. Now that’s the correct answer!

It’s not because she has a lot of varied expressions, but that she’s a girl whose feelings are written clearly on her face. It’s really inexplicable.

“How good…you can, really talk…even though, I’m really bad at this.”

Her beautiful eyes were staring at me.

“…That’s, great.”

It’s awkward. Very awkward.”

This might be the first time a girl calls me by the p.r.o.noun ‘you (anata)’! (Up till now, she has been calling me ‘you (anta)’.

At first, I thought that she was a very shy girl, but it seems that she’s just bad at speaking. She expresses her feelings clearly, and is very naive. What will this kind of girl say during an interview? I inadvertently wonder.

She can probably talk about her beautiful and magnificent dreams with honest feelings.

I guess…that’s completely different from me.

The conversation pauses here.

The guide still hasn’t arrived.

Has it been 3 minutes?

It’s true that after I walk into the room, made a self-introduction, and answer about 2, 3 questions, there’ll be a firm first impression made.

It’s just a personal feeling, but I guess it’s been 3 minutes since I met this girl.

What’s my impression of this girl?

Speaking of which, she’s already so tense, but she’s staring at me nervously and giving me tips.

If I don’t repay her in some sense, I’m not fit to be a man.

“Oh~ that’s right, I heard there’ll be in-depth questioning of what students ‘hope to do’ and ‘what their dreams are’ in this interview. This is what my uppercla.s.sman told man.”

However, those issues might be the crux for an arts course, as compared to the normal subjects, so I guess that’s something they have to ask either way.

“Maybe they’ll ask you that question within those 3 minutes you talk about.”

Well, even though I say so, I never considered over this! This is bad.

“What I want to do, my dreams.”

The girl mutters, and then nods twice with a calm face.

“You seem very relaxed.”

Upon hearing me say this, the girl widens her eyes and tilts her head.

“That’s because, it’s fine, as I talk about what I think.”

“Even if you say so…that’s the difficult part, right?”

Whether it’s about what I want to do, or my dreams, can I actually answer them honestly during an interview? That’s not something I’m really keen on talking with others, and less so in an interview.

This is what I want to do, and after saying this, I’ll fulfill my dream if I continue on straight to my goal. A student in the Third Year of Middle School isn’t so naive to believe in such a notion.

A High School entrance exam only takes particular attention on the reality, and not on dreams.

That’s why having dreams is not a stupid thing. There’s a chance for it to come true. There are thoughts where we think our ordinary jobs are boring, where we only live once, but dreams are a counterbalance to this messy, troublesome logical world.

And if I really say anything stupid, I’ll definitely be laughed at.

No, it’ll be really bad. That’ll be a situation where I’ll have to give up.

“What is it, that you want to do?”

Suddenly, the girl asks me directly.

This is a crisis before the interview. d.a.m.n it, what’s she asking here? Hold on a moment.

She silently stares at me. Those moist eyes cause my heart to waver, just as she did in my impression of her during the first three minutes. This pressure is no lesser than facing an interviewer.

“Well, hmm, I’m in this arts stream. I want to sculpt some things, like wood, stone or, something solid.”

Why am I stammering so much? I could have just stated it clearly.

But as expected, it’s a little embarra.s.sing to declare like this. However—

—What do you want to do in the future?