After finishing our afternoon classes without incident, we met Mika and Saori-chan in the clubroom to catch them up on the events of the lunch break. They were visibly shaken at first to hear we had been summoned to the Student Council Room, but they let out collective sighs of relief upon learning that we had successfully established a cooperative relationship regarding the Repeating Student problem.
"I see, so you even managed to build a cooperative system with the Student Council..." Mika murmured.
"I’m so glad," Saori-chan added. "When I heard you’d been called in, my heart practically leapt into my throat."
"Haha. Well, anyone would react that way to a summons," I said with a wry smile. "To be honest, when we actually walked into that room, our hearts were pounding in our chests just like yours are now."
I looked at the two of them. They looked exhausted just from the sheer relief of the news.
"By the way," Hiiragi-san chimed in, "how was the reaction to our recruitment poster among the first-years?"
"Yeah," Yuji added, leaning forward slightly. "I’ve been curious about that too. It hasn't really become a topic of conversation among the second-years yet, but..."
They were both clearly eager for feedback. I stopped smiling and turned my attention toward the girls as well. Caught under our collective gaze, Mika and Saori-chan looked at each other with troubled expressions.
"Judging by those faces," I ventured, "things aren't going so well?"
"...Yeah," Mika admitted. "It might just be because it's only the first day the posters have been up, but no one really came to ask us for more details. Saori-chan, did you have anyone?"
"No, no one came to talk to me either."
"I see..."
In a way, that was the expected reaction. Just because we’d put out a call for members didn't mean applicants would come running immediately.
"But there was a reaction to the poster itself," Mika continued. "I’m just not sure if it was a good one or a bad one."
"Yeah," Saori-chan agreed. "I had a friend who saw the poster ask me if it was really okay to do something that would get us targeted by the Repeating Students."
"My friends asked me the exact same thing," Mika said.
So it wasn't that there was no reaction at all; people were just wary.
"You two," I said, my tone turning serious, "what about the Repeating Students? Have they harassed you because of the poster?"
"We're fine," Mika said. "There’s been no harassment so far. It feels like they're just watching to see what happens. They've given us some suspicious looks, but I haven't seen any sign of them making a direct move yet... I think?"
"Yes, we're okay," Saori-chan confirmed. "I doubt they want to do anything direct and risk getting noticed by the teachers. For now, that poster is still just a regular recruitment poster."
She was right. At this stage, the poster was nothing more than that. It wouldn't take on its true significance until after the sports festival.
"Fair enough," I said. "Still, from here on out, we're planning to spread rumors that we're the ones in the poster—that we're actually fighting that monster, the big bear, inside the dungeon. They might start meddling then, so if anything changes, no matter how trivial, tell us immediately. We'll figure out a plan and handle it."
"Okay. Got it," Mika said.
"Understood," Saori-chan replied.
Since we were in different grades, there wasn't much we could do during class hours, but we could take action during any other period. If we stopped hiding our strength and moved for real, we could rush to any location in this small school within thirty seconds. Of course, doing so would probably involve smashing windows and various other school facilities...
"He's right, you two," Yuji added. "If anything happens, don't hesitate to tell us."
"Indeed," Hiiragi-san said warmly. "Please don't keep problems to yourselves, even if they seem minor. I'm sure we can find a solution if we put our heads together."
"Yes!" the girls replied in unison, their voices energetic.
I’d have to stay more vigilant than ever regarding any changes in their behavior, but I felt confident they wouldn't bottle things up. No matter how much we looked out for them, there were some things we simply wouldn't know unless they spoke up.
As our discussion wrapped up, the door opened and Hashimoto-sensei poked her head into the clubroom. As usual, she was lugging a binder and a laptop.
"Sorry I'm late. I got caught by the grade head..."
"It's fine, Hashimoto-sensei. You don't have to rush," I said. "Don't worry about being a few minutes late."
"Thank you. I appreciate you saying that."
She was slightly out of breath, likely having hurried over. It made sense; this clubroom was in a different building from the faculty room. For those of us whose physical abilities had been enhanced as explorers, it wasn't much of a distance, but for a non-explorer, it was a hike.
Hashimoto-sensei set her things on a shelf in the back and took an empty chair next to Yuji.
"Anyway, I heard the news. You were summoned to the Student Council Room during lunch?"
"Oh, yes," I said. "Did word reach the faculty already?"
"Yes. Though, the teacher in charge of the Student Council only mentioned that you were being called in."
"...Ah, I see."
So that was how the information had traveled. Every Student Council has an Advisor, after all. But that made me wonder: if the teachers were in the loop, why hadn't the Repeating Student problem been addressed until recently? Did the school think it was something for the Student Council to handle rather than the administration?
"The faculty side has already agreed to... well, overlook your future activities," Hashimoto-sensei continued, "but there were concerns that you were summoned because the Student Council hadn't been briefed yet."
"It turned out okay this time," I said, "but I wish they'd passed some information to the Student Council once the agreement was reached."
If they had, we might have avoided the summons entirely. Then again, the meeting allowed us to propose the performance time at the sports festival, so it wasn't all bad.
"Hashimoto-sensei," I began, "about that meeting. I actually proposed to the Student Council that they introduce a performance time during the inter-club relay."
"A performance time?" Hashimoto-sensei tilted her head.
Since we’d been talking about using the inter-club relay for an appeal time for ages, the sudden shift in terminology seemed to confuse her.
"Yes. Since we had the chance to talk to them, I thought we should use it to effectively showcase our strength. The Student Council liked the idea, but they said they couldn't change the schedule without the administration's approval."
"That's true. The sports festival schedule involves coordination with guests and other factors, so the Student Council can't just change it on a whim... wait."
Hashimoto-sensei looked thoughtful for a moment, then her eyes widened as she realized what I was getting at.
"The Student Council will likely submit a formal proposal," I said, "but could you also talk to the other teachers, Hashimoto-sensei? Whether or not this goes through will make a massive difference in how effective our demonstration is."
"Ah, I see what you're doing..."
"The Student Council will probably ask for five minutes, but the actual performance time could be just a minute or two. I want a moment outside of the race itself to show the students that we have the strength necessary to back them up."
If we showed them a demonstration of the mock battles we usually did with Juzo-san, most students would instantly recognize our level. Beyond that, it would serve as a powerful form of intimidation against the Repeating Students.
"...Understood," she said. "I'll bring it up at the faculty meeting."
"Thank you very much."
"But keep in mind that the time you actually get might be shorter than what was requested. Some teachers will argue that a five-minute appeal time really takes ten minutes when you count setting up props and getting everyone back to the starting line."
She looked apologetic, but her concern was valid. If every club spread out across the field to perform, it would be a logistical nightmare. There are always students who ignore the clock to try and stay in the spotlight. If we factored in the performance and the cleanup, five minutes of scheduled time probably only meant two or three minutes of actual action.
"I understand," I said.
"Well, we won't know for sure until the proposal is on the table. I'll negotiate to make sure you get as much time as possible."
"Thank you very much!" we all said in unison.
"Now, don't get your hopes up too high," she replied, offering a bashful, wry smile.
Still, having her handle the internal politics would make the schedule change much more likely to pass than if the Student Council fought for it alone.
We finished club activities at 4:00 PM and decided to walk around the school together before heading home. It was a deliberate move to show that Mika and Saori-chan were under our protection. As we toured the campus, I noticed how much athletic club activity had declined compared to the same time last year.
The reason was simple: a huge portion of last year’s student body had obtained their Armed Exploration Permit for Special Underground Structures, leaving the current second and third years with very few members. Furthermore, the rule banning anyone with an explorer permit from participating in official tournaments had absolutely gutted student motivation.
This time last year, the soccer and baseball clubs would have been shouting across the grounds in intense preparation for summer tournaments. Now, the place was so quiet it was practically a ghost town. While the arrival of the freshmen meant most clubs had just enough bodies to technically enter competitions, the fire was gone. The practices looked relaxed—almost lethargic.
"...The clubs have certainly gotten quiet," I noted.
"Yeah," Yuji agreed. "Participating in official tournaments is the primary engine for most of these guys. If that's off the table, you won't stick with it unless you're absolutely obsessed with the sport."
"It's not just that," Hiiragi-san added. "While cultural clubs are mostly unaffected, in athletic clubs, you get criticized the moment people find out you hold an Armed Exploration Permit for Special Underground Structures. They call it cheating. Even if you love the game, it's hard to stay in an environment where everyone resents you."
She was right. That was the core of the decline. When the ban was first announced, the most dedicated athletes tried to push through. But as the physical gap between explorers and non-explorers became undeniable, a culture emerged where anyone with a permit was expected to quit. By the time the school realized what was happening, it was too late. The clubs were already dying.
"I can't say I don't understand the non-explorers' perspective, though," I said.
"True," Yuji said. "If people start playing purely with physical abilities gained as an explorer, the frustration of the non-explorer athletes—the ones who are actually working on their technique—is bound to explode."
I recalled a TV special that tried to pit the two groups against each other in various sports. It hadn't been a contest; it wasn't even a game. The non-explorers were seasoned veterans with years of technique, and the explorers were total novices, yet the explorers won effortlessly through raw power. On a variety show, it was a joke. In a high school club where you spent three years of your life, it was a tragedy.
"But this won't be solved unless they hold separate tournaments for explorers and non-explorers, right?" Hiiragi-san asked.
"Probably," I replied. "I hear the athletic organizations are looking into it, but it'll take years to set up explorer-only tournaments. They have to rewrite the rules to account for human beings with superhuman strength."
"Exactly," Yuji said. "The difference between an explorer and a non-explorer is greater than the difference between an adult and a child. You can't fix the rulebook in a year or two. Plus, even among explorers, the difference between a level 1 and a level 20 is massive. It's a logistical nightmare."
"So, we're stuck like this for a while," Hiiragi-san murmured, looking sadly at the nearly empty fields.
We left the quiet grounds behind and headed home, the fading cheers of the few remaining athletes echoing behind us.