Sleeping Beauty and the Witch’s Sister. Part 1

And so, my new term as Shinomori Ibara begins with a transfer student event.

“My name is Amami Shizuku.”

The classroom rippled with murmurs at the sight of her standing at the lectern.
Even for the arts course, this sort of reaction is normal. Though I’ve never had a normal high school life myself. Ahaha.

“My course is Fine Art. Pleased to meet you all.”

The performing arts classes at Kaimei High are divided into three courses:
Music, Stage Performance, and Fine Art, each with just over ten students.
That said, it mainly means the elective classes with more periods align with your chosen course; otherwise, it’s standard study.
It’s not like one of those specialist performing arts high schools run by major talent agencies as training grounds for new recruits.
　Naturally, you can obtain your high school diploma here, and some students, like me, aim to enter university.
That aside, the moment “Fine Arts” was mentioned, the classroom stirred again.
I get it, though.

“Not Theatre?”

“Right?”

My classmates at the neighbouring desks whispered quietly to each other.
Had I known nothing about it, I’d have thought the same thing.
　Her bluish asymmetrical hair. The slender bridge of her nose and her tightly pursed lips. Eyes that seemed to droop with a certain languidness.
How to put it… she had an aura about her.
And quite simply, she was good-looking.
This might be favouritism, or just a matter of taste. But it was genetic.

“Yes, thank you. Amami-san, your seat is over there.”

“Yes.”

Conveniently, there was no seat next to me, so Shizuku sat in the empty seat at the back. Well, obviously.

We tuned out His Excellency the Headmaster’s blessed speech in the auditorium, returned to the classroom, collected our third-year textbooks, and so on.
Since it was the opening ceremony today, that was the end of the curriculum.
　Right then, how should I go about striking up a conversation?
Just as I was pondering this, Shizuku had already gathered her things and was about to leave the classroom.
Blimey. Zero interest in making friends, eh? I’m a loner myself, mind.
Ah well, I’ll just wing it. It’ll work out somehow.

“Ah—Amami-san!”

Shizuku stopped in her tracks and turned around, looking puzzled.

“…What?”

“Are you leaving already?”

“Yeah.”

“Want me to show you around the school?”

Shizuku blinked rapidly, glancing at me. Then she gave a small nod and pointed sharply.

“Class rep?”

“Not at all. I was health committee until last year.”

Incidentally, the reason is that I spend more time in the infirmary than anyone else in the class.

“Health committee…”

She tilted her head as she spoke.

“So basically, just a nosy classmate?”

“Exactly, that sort of thing.”

“Huh.”

Shizuku stared intently at my face,

“Well, thank you. But I’ll pass. I got a proper tour when I came for the paperwork.”

She said curtly.
Eh?
Isn’t it standard for classmates to show you around?
You really go out of your way, don’t you, teacher?

“You’re in the art course, right? The art room? Did you get shown around?”

“I did, but—”

“But that place is tricky to find, isn’t it? Shall I show you again?”

“Nah, I’ve got it memorised now.”

“Don’t be like that. Come on. Please?”

“What’s with you?”

“It’s alright, it’s alright. Let’s go together.”

I took another step closer, pressing my face right up to hers.
　As a former idol, I know. Even girls are weak to a pretty face.
Especially mine – it’s worth its weight in gold. Might as well put it to good use.
Just as planned, Shizuku’s eyes darted left and right.
Perhaps she’s surprisingly susceptible to pressure. That trait, well, it has a certain Shigure-san flavour to it, making me smile involuntarily.
Shizuku mumbled something that sounded like an excuse before reluctantly saying,

“…If you insist…”

Right, got her to say it.

“I’m Shinomori Ibara. Pleased to meet you.”

“…Pleased to meet you.”

Hmm. No reaction to my name.
Just like with Shigure-san, she seems completely uninterested in idols. She probably knows about Hiname, not me.
We walked side by side down the corridor.
　Kaimei was quite a traditional school; the corridors were actually wooden-floored.
The dazzling morning light streamed in through the windows, casting scattered patches of amber-coloured sunlight across the floor.
Shizuku murmured softly.

“Shinomori-san…”

“Call me by my name. I like it.”

“…Ibara-san?”

“Don’t you think ‘-san’ is unnecessary? I’ll call you Shizuku-chan too.”

“Then I don’t need ‘-chan’ either. You’re a strange one, Ibara.”

Shizuku rubbed her pale pink cheeks with her fingers, blushing shyly.
Light sparkled and reflected white off her long lashes.
　Blimey, this girl really is cute, no, wait, no, Shigure-san!
This absolutely isn’t cheating or anything. Just so there’s no misunderstanding.

†

The art room was tucked away at the back of the first floor of the school building.
The rule was that, besides regular art club members, those in the performing arts course who chose art could use it freely.
That said, it was completely empty today. It was the first day of term, after all.

“Think you’ll remember the place?”

“Mm.”

Nodding, Shizuku gazed at the row of plaster busts lining the wall.
The stark white Roman busts were a bit eerie. They looked like something out of the Seven Wonders. Not that our school has any of those.

“Can you draw these sort of things too, Shizuku?”

“Fairly well.”

　I know what that means. ‘Fairly’ means ‘quite’ or ‘really’.
Come to think of it, Shigure-san is good at drawing too. Only just realised that now. That portrait of the woman looked exactly like her.
You can’t help but respect that kind of thing. It feels like proof of all the practice they’ve put in.

“That’s amazing. I can’t draw at all.”

“What about you, Ibara?”

“Hm?”

“What course are you on, Ibara?”

“Ah, Stage Performance. Sort of.”

I’ve retired now, and I mostly skip elective classes by skiving off in the infirmary.

“The singing and dancing bit? Or acting?”

“More the dancing bit, I suppose.”

“Oh.”

Shizuku’s eyes lit up with curiosity.

“You can dance. That’s amazing.”

“Want to see?”

“I want to see it.”

“Sorry. Your popularity points aren’t high enough.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Pfft, Shizuku let out a little laugh.
A smile, I think it might be the first time I’ve seen one.
Honestly, it made me happy.
I’m what you might call a ‘shy person pretending to be outgoing’, so I’m usually fine on my own. But regardless, having a classmate who can crack jokes on equal terms isn’t bad.
　In this school, someone who doesn’t treat me, the dropout, like a hot potato is precious.
I’d almost forgotten about the investigation.
It suddenly occurred to me, and I said.

“Oh, right. Did you see it? The one down the corridor ahead, with the graduate’s painting displayed?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“You should see it. This way, this way.”

We left the art room and headed down the corridor.
There, a single oil painting hung on the wall.
It was a large painting.
I’d learnt from a teacher before that this enormous canvas was called a “100-number”.
It depicted a single girl.
　A girl leaning by the window at night, gazing at the moon.
I rather liked this painting.
The depth of the night sky, woven from countless shades of blue, and the bright, round whiteness of the moon.
The girl’s profile, imbued with a quiet, solitary melancholy.
Each element spoke to me.
But actually facing it like this… it felt like ages since I’d done so.
　Come to think of it.
Among the works of seniors who’ve graduated, the fact this one is displayed so prominently suggests it must have won some rather special award.
Or perhaps the artist became famous?
I think the teacher mentioned something, but I can’t recall at all. Nor do I remember the artist’s name.
I examine the metal nameplate affixed beneath the painting.
There, a name was engraved.
“夜見瑠奈”
　A rather unusual surname - “夜見”. How does one read this? Yomi… no, that’s not right.
Yoru (夜) mi (見), Yorumi (夜見)?

“Yomi (夜見) Runa (瑠奈).”

Shizuku murmured.
It was a name I recognised.
Runa-san.
A classmate of Shigure-san’s, a famous artist, and her former flatmate during art college.
　Could it be that very ‘Runa’?
So she was my senpai all along? And she painted this?
Such a coincidence.
Not impossible, but unlikely.

“Shizuku, do you know this artist?”

“I know her.”

Quietly.
Yet with eyes and a voice that held a certain, melting warmth.

“Because she’s someone I admire.”