On my second day at the Light Novel Club, I made sure to bring some manuscript paper to write my novel.
Yamada was trying to put together a plastic model kit of some mecha I did not recognise. It looked rather slender and elegant, almost feminine, except for the unorthodox placing of a prominent fighter-jet-like “cockpit” that Yamada had just affixed onto its crotch area.
Izumi was reading Hyperion, a dusty old American SF novel of the type that my older brother sometimes tried to get me to read instead of light novels or manga. “That anime you love is ultimately just downstream of SF, just a diluted version for mass consumption, all style and no substance.” She also gave me a copy of the book she had gotten from god knows where but I didn’t feel like there was any pressure to read it. If this was for club activities then why weren’t Tanaka and Yamada also given copies? Maybe this was the only extra copy she had.
Tanaka was sitting right in front of the bulky CRT TV screen, playing a puzzle game that was familiar even to me, who has never owned or wanted to own a game console, where he had to match falling blocks of differing shapes and colours. He held a grey rectangular controller on his knee while tapping the bottom of the controller, very odd but he seemed good at it.
It was a comforting atmosphere where no one tried to assert their tastes over others, with the exception of the ban on some technologies. However, this meant there wasn’t really any unity in this club room, everyone was in their own little world, even if we occupied the same room.
Outside we could hear the various sports clubs practising earnestly.
Was it fun being in this club with these three? Not really. The important thing was that I was able to finish writing a whole chapter but at some point, I got distracted and started reading a random 4-koma ( a comic strip which consists of four panels arranged vertically) manga volume off of the shelves lining the walls of this cramped club room.
I gazed up at the unmoving broken ceiling fan with peeled-off paint and rusting corners.
There were a few things that I wanted to look up, a few kanji whose meaning I wasn’t sure of, but which I included anyway. Without being able to use electronics I couldn’t access the internet.
On the other hand, I probably got more writing done by not looking up every little thing.
Was this what I wanted from a light novel club? No, not really. Something was lacking. My throat was dry. I knew what I needed right then.
“Izumi, is it alright if I bring an electric kettle to this room to make tea?”
“Yes, any electric device made before June 29, 2007 is fine.”
Izumi did not look away from her book.
“Wait, does that mean that if I could find a PC which was made before 2007, then I can use that in the club room?”
Izumi confirmed this with a simple nod and returned to her book. But where would I find such a piece of junk anyway? I doubt it would run any of the programs I am using now. Maybe an old version of Ichitaro would run.
“Ah… where did it go?”
Yamada’s arm touched my trousers as he annoyingly crouched under the table right next to where I was seated. After rummaging around for about five minutes he gave up.
“The decals for the eyes are gone…”
Oh, the humanity… I pretended to look for the sticker which came with his model kit and I randomly looked under my indoor shoe to find a tiny red sticker stuck on its rubber soles. I took it off and held it in my hands. Yamada’s pudgy eyes were instantly lit with surprise. He smiled and snatched the sticker out of my hands before I could give it to him.
“Thanks.” He said, a bit too late in my opinion.
“No problem.”
He was already back to working on his plastic model kit before I could say anything else.
Yamada was clearly more into building model kits than making small talk with me. Nor did he see any need to hide that fact.
When I entered the club room I was made to turn off my phone and hand it to Izumi, who held it in an emptied biscuit tix box at the centre of the table along with everyone else’s phones. She held her hand out and pointed with her other hand’s index finger at the box like some kind of mute. I sucked my teeth audibly in annoyance and handed it to her. Well, if I had it I would probably have wasted my time writing answers on Yahoo Chiebukuro and getting baited on ni-chan, rather than doing what I came to do, writing novels. No, I was not an addict. I noticed that there was a pink flip-phone in the box. It had a cute rabbit-shaped phone charm dangling from it. Don’t see many of those these days. Thereafter I began what would become my routine: writing, running out of ideas, and then glancing at what the other members were doing until it gave me some idea of what to write.
The sun was setting so it must have been around six o’clock. I couldn’t tell what exact time it was because, like any normal young person, I read the time from my phone. Maybe I should find that old digital watch with the alarm and backlight I used to use before my parents let me have a phone, or maybe I should get a cheap wall clock. No wait.. First the kettle, then a computer, and now the clock. Why should I pay for everything… They are going to make use of them too.
I wondered how I could convince the school to pay for the stuff I wanted in the club as part of club expenses. While I could of course force the issue by threatening Izumi and the others of revealing the “secret” of the club to the school staff, I don’t think I could really carry out that threat and then show my face here everyday afterwards. It would be too awkward, so I would end up losing face if Izumi called my bluff. I hated that kind of interpersonal drama and besides if this did really turn into a real literary club or get shut down then I couldn’t write in here anyway.
Tanaka turned off the TV and put the game cartridge back in its box.
“I guess Level 37 is my limit.”
I had no idea what he was referring to or who he was talking to, but it occurred to me that with a scrawny and nerdy build like Tanaka’s, glasses would fit his face very well but I guess it wouldn’t do to have two spectacled characters in the same club. I am doing that thing again, applying fictional rules to reality. Maybe I was a bit excited about this club after all, despite my complaints, or is that also applying fictional rules to reality. Is it a bad thing I can’t say which thoughts are my own?
Izumi closed her book with a thud, which Yamada and Tanaka took as a signal that it was the end of today’s so-called club activities.
Yamada left his unfinished plastic model on the table. Well, no wonder he keeps on losing pieces. While I stuffed the mess of paper that was my manuscript into my bag. Ugh, a physical manuscript is such a pain. There were pieces of eraser all over the table. I’ll get a computer here soon enough.
Once we were out Izumi locked the white sliding door to the club room. Then without a word she headed off towards the teacher’s office to hand over the club room key.
Well, she was the only girl in the club so I didn’t expect her to leave school with us but she could have at least said bye.
I was tempted to ditch Tanaka and Yamada, as I didn’t want to leave school as some kind of idiot trio but I missed my chance. Thankfully once we were out of the school Yamada took off towards the back exit to the school which left only Tanaka and me to climb down the hill on which North High resided, two nerds rather than three made us less conspicuous especially given Yamada’s size and height.
This just left me and Tanaka. Once Yamada had left, there was nothing to talk about for the two of us, or so I thought.
“Ishikawa, how is that novel of yours going?”
“So you noticed it was a novel. Do you really care how it’s going?”
“Well, even for you, doing homework during club time would be weird.”
I had no idea that I looked that studious at all. I just did all of my homework and studying during break time so I could be free at home. It wasn’t because I didn’t have any friends or anything.
“I thought you would have asked me more about Izumi by now. Is it because you are that shy that you haven’t asked me anything yet?”
“I am just genuinely disinterested.”
About what’s going on with her, it was really none of my business.
“Really? Well, what I think is that since you like to write and she likes to read, you should just have her read your stories.”
Wrong. If she didn’t like it then it would be awkward afterwards. Wait, what am I talking about? Writing or a physical relationship?
“Looks like this is where we part ways. Bye!”
Yamada flashed a smile as he took a turn onto the road which led to the station. I guess he took the train to school. Another piece of useless information.
