The “appraisal meeting” was decided for Monday after school. After classes ended, the school building began to be enveloped in the noise of students leaving and club activities. The sounds of music clubs and the shouts of sports clubs could be heard near and far. It wasn’t necessary for me to be present when Osanai-san looked at the painting. Kengo hadn’t asked me to come either. But I chose to go. It might not be of any help, but it could be.

In the meantime, I would go to pick up Osanai-san and guide her to the empty classroom where <The Sight and the Outer, or fortune-cookie> was placed. As we walked down the hallway, Osanai-san didn’t seem particularly tense or relaxed, but she had a slightly annoyed expression on her face.

The empty classroom was unlocked. Just like Friday, the desk and chairs were moved to create a space where the copy of Nicolas de Staël, or Shima Taiga’s sculptural work, was framed and placed on an easel. Doujima Kengo was standing there with a serious expression, and in the corner of the classroom, Art teacher Koumura was standing with a somewhat smiling face.

“Osanai, I’m sorry.”

Kengo called out, but Osanai-san didn’t respond. She stood tall, hiding behind me.

“Osanai-san, if you hide, he won’t be able to see you.”

I said over my shoulder, and Osanai-san nodded and stepped forward. First, she bowed to Mr. Koumura in the corner of the classroom and said in a voice that seemed like it would disappear.

“Hello.”

As if he didn’t expect a greeting here, Mr. Koumura replied with a puzzled “Ah, hello.” Then to Kengo, he said,

“Is this the one? Is she the one who is knowledgeable?”

“I don’t know if she’s knowledgeable, but she helped me before.”

“I see.”

“Teacher, you know.”

Kengo spoke as if he had made up his mind.

“I’m sorry to take your time during club activities. We’re just going to look at the painting, so…….”

“Is it okay if I’m not here? That’s not how it works. If something happens to the important painting, it would be irreparable.”

I actually wondered why Mr. Koumura was there. Was it for the management of the work?

“Alright. Then, thank you.”

Kengo bowed his head.

In the brief exchange, Osanai-san stood in front of the painting and was measuring its width with a tape measure she had somehow obtained. It was a remarkable feat that took advantage of the psychological gaps of everyone present. I heard Osanai-san’s whisper in my ear.