Toradora! Vol. 2

by Yuyuko Takemiya

  He finally arrived at a door. A scrap of notebook paper was stuck against it with scotch tape, scribbled on with pencil.

  It said, “Student Council Room.”

  Ahhhh, Kouta sighed. With dark eyes, he looked down at the old doorknob. He came by this place every day, and for what…?

  “DAAAH HAHAHAHA!”

  “…That’s got to be the president.”

  He was in danger of being blown away by the mere power of the overly hearty laugh that resonated from behind the door, but he stood his ground. He automatically pictured that laughter’s source.

  What came to mind was their trustworthy personality and, on occasion, strict paternal love… the popular nicknames of “godfather” and “patriarch” were all too fitting for this very “masculine” person. It wasn’t that Kouta hated their style, but sometimes, it was a little much…

  “Excuse me.”

  …It happened at the same time he opened the door and stepped in.

  “Ohh! You’re late, my first-year lad! Hurry up and sit, sit!”

  “…Phew.”

  It had been several weeks since they’d met, but he still hadn’t gotten used to the owner of that laugh.

  “What’s wrong? That was a pretty lifeless response.” Tsk. He heard a tongue click, but immediately after came a show of white teeth and a generous laugh. “Have a bite of this,” said the manly individual in question, and threw a snack at him.

  That macho soul in fact had the incredibly feminine name of Kanou Sumire.

  But there was more to her than that.

  “President, sorry for the intrusion, but it’s about the data from the previous year’s proposed budget.”

  “Right, I’ll see that, give it here.”

  Slip… the black, silky strands of her hair spilled softly over her delicate shoulders. Her downcast eyes and pale Japanese complexion were just a skin she wore.

  The student body president, Kanou Sumire.

  Since enrolling in the school, she had been a hardcore honors student who never wavered from her position at the top of the class. In addition, she had a little sister, Kanou Sakura, who was two years younger than her and a first year in the same school. Among the students, they were known as the Kanou sisters. In other words, Sumire was the president, the patriarch, and the elder of the Kanou sisters.

  “Hey, Kouta. You were eating by yourself again today, weren’t you? I passed by your class and saw it with my own two eyes—you all by yourself.”

  “…Please leave it be.”

  Perched at a window seat, holding papers in one hand, Sumire was staring at Kouta with a grin on her face…while manspreading. It seemed she had no intention to leave it be.

  “So you still haven’t made aaany friends. We’re almost at the end of May, you realize? It’s been two whole months since school started.”

  There was no consideration in the cherry-blossom-colored lips that spoke those words. Kouta was silent. He turned his back to Sumire and dropped his eyes to the activity log.

  “You’re a first-year lad, yet you’re an outcast.”

  “Now, now, president.” The one who threw him a lifeline was the second-year vice president, Kitamura Yuusaku. With his silver-rimmed, severe glasses glinting, he jumped into the conversation with a gentle tone. “Kouta enrolled one month late, so he hasn’t even been here for a full month.”

  “Right, that was how it went down!” Sumire slapped her hands together in understanding. “What was it again—you were hit by a car right before our enrollment ceremony, right?”

  “…No. I was hit by the car on the day before the ceremony at my first choice school.”

  “Right, right, let’s see—oh right, your neighbor’s house caught on fire and when they hosed it down, your own house was flooded…”

  “That was the day before a school trip in middle school. The day before the ceremony, what I thought was a horrible stomachache was actually my appendix. When I went out to a restaurant to celebrate, it ruptured, and I ended up pulling down other people’s tables as I collapsed—”

  “Yes! And then you were hospitalized for a month!”

  With the President’s finger pointing at him, Kouta could only keep silent and look down. The next words Sumire let lose were ones he already knew were coming.

  “You sure are an unlucky fellow!” Daaahahahahaha!

  …What was so funny, exactly?

  “President, you’re laughing too much. You’ll make Kouta feel bad.”

  That hearty laugh—strong enough to even bring on a rebuke from Kitamura—continued to resound. It got to the point that even the clerks going about their duties (both of them second years, older than him) had quivering shoulders while pretending to be engrossed in their work.

  If you’re going to laugh, then laugh. Kouta sulkily pouted and turned away. Sorry for being so unlucky. But what could he do? That was just the way it was.

  Whenever Kouta’s fate was in the balance, the scales inevitably came down on the side of trouble. It had been that way from the moment he’d dropped into this world to the present day. Incidentally, the moment he came out crying from his mother’s womb, his father’s video camera ran out of batteries, and the doctor, distracted by that, missed the moment his mother had finished her difficult task and dropped the newborn Kouta past her crotch.

  The trouble had just continued to the present day. At any rate, he’d made the unfortunate decision to join this student council of his own free will.

  ***

  It was shortly after entering high school—his entrance delayed because of the particular circumstances of his life—when Kouta noticed he was in limbo in his class. For starters, he didn’t have a cheerful personality. He’d thought he might join a club to make friends, but the invitation season for new members was long past, and the opportunity to join was completely robbed from him.

  Although he wasn’t despised, trying to endure the class recesses without a single friend was incredibly taxing. One day, as he was thinking about what he could do, a poster had appeared in front of Kouta’s eyes.

  “Wanted: General Affairs members! Big welcome to new students! Join the Student Council!”

  General Affairs… basically, that probably means helping with paperwork, he thought. It wasn’t like he had an interest in helping with desk work for the student council. But the words big welcome to new students seemed to sparkle in Kouta’s eyes for that moment. It was like the last door on the last train that he was already late to ride was still open—that was the feeling he had.

  He just needed to get to know the other first year students in General Affairs. And maybe, if he became Tomiie Kouta of the student council, he would be able to escape his current station as a nonexistent waste of air. That was the thought.

  He summoned his courage and headed to the student council room. Even now, he could clearly remember how he felt as he opened that door for the first time.

  A beautiful, black-haired Yamato Nadeshiko—the concept of the ideal Japanese woman—turned around as though surprised. That he would be able to work on student council activities with such a beauty was beyond his expectations. It was a rare moment—he almost thought he was lucky. But then the beauty said, “Yo!” and lifted her fist at him in a manly way. She plunked down on her chair with her legs splayed. “You’re a first year, right?! Something wrong? Go on, grab a seat!” Thump! She kicked an open seat for him.

  …Flub. The strength left his knees. The one who’d been lying in wait for Kouta was a tough guy—wearing a Yamato Nadeshiko skin.

  There weren’t any other first years in General Affairs, and for starters, when he reported his student council position to his homeroom teacher, she hadn’t even known about it. “Huh? You went into General Affairs?”

  On the other hand, he couldn’t just quit because the truth of the student council had been a little bit different from his arbitrary expectations. So Kouta made sure to go to the student council room every day after school, where he was the on
ly student working on troublesome, daily minutiae.

  This really wasn’t meant for him.

  “Aaahh… I’d love to touch that Palmtop Tiger…” It slipped right out of him…mixed with a sigh. He’d only meant to think it to himself.

  “…Hm?” Kitamura reacted first. “What did you just say about the Palmtop Tiger?”

  “Kitamura-senpai, does that mean you’ve heard about it?”

  “Don’t answer a question with a question.” Sumire’s affectionate whip—the corner of her notebook—prodded the top of Kouta’s head.

  “Ow! Hey, what gives? I can’t help it! I’m just curious about it, okay?”

  The corner of the notebook dug in deeper, sawing rapidly into Kouta’s head.

  “Aaah, that burns!”

  “Don’t underestimate the notebook. Pulp is the essence of mighty trees. So spit it out, why do you want to touch the Tiger?”

  “Y-you’re relentless… my classmates were talking about it, okay?”

  When you touch the Palmtop Tiger, you’ll be blessed with good fortune for the next three years until graduation!

  Kouta had heard about it being one of the seven wonders of the school right at the same time Sumire had seen him alone that day during lunch break. Even though he hadn’t been intentionally listening to the conversation behind him, it had caught his ears all the same.

  “Hmph. Unlucky. You wanted to touch the Palmtop Tiger, but since you weren’t friends, you couldn’t bring yourself to ask for details. Just how shy are you, anyway?!”

  Kouta turned his back on Sumire and muttered darkly, “It’s fine. Please leave it be. I was just curious, that’s all. I wasn’t serious. It’s probably no better than a good luck charm anyway.”

  “No, you’re wrong.” Kitamura’s voice suddenly reverberated loudly through the room. “Nah, this tiger’s real. I’ve seen the Palmtop Tiger before.”

  “Huh?! Really?!”

  Sumire oddly didn’t seem surprised, either. She put up a graceful hand. “I’ve seen the Palmtop Tiger, too.”

  The other members exchanged glances, and following the president, raised their hands. “Yup.” “Me too.” “And me.”

  “Senpai, you’ve all seen the Palmtop with your own eyes?”

  “Yeah, the Palmtop is especially notorious among the second years. …But the Legend of the Lucky Palmtop Tiger? Guess the legend gets bigger with each retelling. To think the Palmtop’s been made into such a big deal…”

  Kitamura chuckled. He looked like he could hardly handle it. Every member except for Sumire had an odd grin.

  “…Uhhh, guys, what’s so funny?” Kouta couldn’t quite decode what was going on. He glanced around, vainly trying to get a feel for what was happening.

  “I’ve got it!” Sumire suddenly raised her voice. “Kouta, you have to touch the Palmtop Tiger.”

  “…Huh?”

  “An unlucky fellow like you in our group is a liability. Your bad luck might affect the whole student council. So consider this a presidential order. You absolutely must touch the Palmtop Tiger and cure your misfortune.”

  “Even if you tell me to do that, I don’t even know what the Palmtop Tiger is.”

  “You can just ask your classmates. Start tomorrow off by gathering information, first thing!”

  “This seems like a fool’s errand…”

  “Excuse me?”

  In front of Sumire’s sharp, piercing eyes, Kitamura once again jumped in with a “Now, now.” He went on, “It’d be difficult to have him do it so suddenly. Kouta, first off, we’ll give you a hint. In my class, the second-year class C, there’s a certain person named Kushieda who you can visit. Out of everyone I know within this school, she’s the one who knows the most about the Palmtop Tiger.”

  “That was…Kushieda…senpai?”

  Yeah, Kitamura nodded. He flashed an appealing smile as he looked down at Kouta.

  “…Kitamura-senpai.”

  “Hm?”

  “You seem like you’re having a lot of fun, for some reason.”

  “Yeah, I might be.”

  It was always kind of hard to understand what was in the bottom of those intelligent eyes, behind those glasses. Even now, all smiles, he seemed to look through Kouta, piercing him with a straight, silent gaze.

  Kouta thought of Kitamura as a kind upperclassman. Maybe it was because he was Sumire’s right-hand man, but he felt there was something up with the group gathered in the student council room.

  After all, he had a predisposition for super bad luck. He decided to play dumb, but as he stared at the upperclassmen’s faces, there was suspicion in his eyes.

  ***

  Okay, Kouta. First, the Palmtop Tiger is real. And second, the Palmtop’s a ferocious terror that isn’t going to be easy to touch.

  As a special favor, Sumire had given him a hint. But with a hint that small, he still couldn’t tell what the Palmtop Tiger was, or what form it would take. In cases like this, it would normally be something like a bronze statue, right?

  “…Honestly, this is just coercion, at this point…”

  It was the next day. Rather obediently, he stood in front of the door to the second-year class C.

  After all, Sumire had given him the forceful warning—if you ignore a presidential order, you’ll be in trouble.

  “Uhh, in other words…you mean I’d be fired?” What else could it be, anyway?

  “No. I’d force you to become the next student body president.”

  “Wouldn’t the next student president be a current second year?”

  “Congratulations on becoming the first-ever first year president!”

  “Yeah, I’d rather not…”

  And so he lowered his gloomy face and unsteadily made his way to a classroom of upperclassmen all by himself. He peeked into the classroom for a while without revealing himself, but he was at a loss when he couldn’t find Kitamura, who he was depending on. It seemed that all he could do was ask someone to bring out the person named Kushieda.

  “Um, excuse me.”

  “Yes?”

  He put all his effort into flagging down an upperclassman girl who happened to be walking by.

  “What is it?” The person who turned around had a bright smile on her face. Her kind-looking brown eyes turned to Kouta—

  her round cheeks were lit up with a grin, and her pink lips were lustrous and shiny. From head to toe, she was too bright. Straightforward, honest, and healthy, she was completely different from a certain tough guy.

  “Uh, umm…it’s, I’m looking for someone named Kushieda-senpai—”

  “Yessss!”

  “In…this…class…?”

  He looked at her hand, which she had stretched to reach toward the heavens. Kouta tilted his head for a while. Umm, I guess since she said, “Yesss!” and stretched up her hand, this development means…

  “I’m Kushieda!”

  “Oh.”

  Of cooourse. She was cute, but a little strange. He felt his spirits sink again. Everyone he had come across so far seemed a little weird, but that was probably just because his natural bad luck was a siren call to them.

  “Hey you, don’t just say ‘Oh!’ Don’t leave someone hanging!” She acted awfully familiar—she pushed one of his shoulders and he wobbled dangerously. But he somehow held his ground and kept facing forward.

  “Kitamura-senpai said the he would introduce us…” From the sheer desire to avoid being teased by Sumire, he took on the challenge that was Kushieda.

  “Kitamura-kun? Nu-uh, he didn’t say anything to me.”

  “Uhh…”

  No way. As he recalled Kitamura’s bespectacled face, Kouta faltered. This meant that he had to tell her about the circumstances of his search for the Palmtop Tiger, starting from the very beginning, here and now. That was a little embarrassing. He was a first year going out of his way to a classroom of upperclassmen to ask, “Excuse me, do you know where the ‘Palmtop Tiger’ is?” That kind of made him seem like h
e was actually serious about it, and that was a little awkward…

  “Yo, Kushieda! This is Tomiie Kouta, a first year. He’s looking into the Palmtop Tiger, so I told him about you. I told him that was a subject Kushieda knows all about! Anyway, see ya!”

  …And then, like a gust of wind, Kitamura passed by and easily explained everything that had been embarrassing. And left.

  Then Kouta noticed something. “Huh?”

  Without so much as a warning, Kushieda’s eyes simultaneously turned harsh and dark. “You’re looking into the Palmtop Tiger, are you…?”

  “…Senpai, your tone of voice is kind of…”

  “Shut yer yap.” To cut off Kouta’s escape route, Kushieda leaned against the doorway and stretched her arm across to the wall. Her bright smile was no more, now completely withdrawn. Her head tilted, chin out, slightly crooked…

  “And what are you planning on doing after looking into the Palmtop Tiger…?” She spoke in a low, husky voice and stared at him searchingly.

  “Ahh, that’s…I’m going to touch it…”

  “Touch it? You’re going to touch it? You want to touch it. So you want to touch it.”

  “…That was four times you said that. Uhh, well…”

  Huff, Kushieda’s prolonged exhalation shifted Kouta’s bangs. “Do you have insurance? You’re gonna need real good insurance—injury insurance.”

  “I do have that, actually.” Honestly, for someone who was born with a predisposition toward bad luck like him, having several kinds of insurance was a given—plans with fully maxed out policies for any and all contingencies.

  Uh-huh, Kushieda listened to that response and nodded deeply. “Listen here, young one…it seems you still don’t know what kind of thing the Palmtop Tiger really is…”

  “Uhh. But that’s why I came to ask.”

  “No matter what you hear from this old hag’s lips, you still won’t understand… the one thing this hag can tell you is… the ‘Palmtop’ part of the Palmtop Tiger’s name is referring to its size…”

  Hag? Kouta didn’t follow.