{The Day of the Seat Change with Sato-san}

April has come.

Other than the fact that our grade and classroom have changed, nothing special has happened.

We have become third-year students without any issues, and over the next year, we will focus on preparing for exams or job hunting. Even I, who doesn’t plan to act like a model student, realize that it’s about time I start taking studying seriously.

I’ve decided on my desired school. Now, all that’s left is—

I need to do something about this vague, unsettled feeling.

Neither my classmates nor my homeroom teacher have changed.

And yet, I feel uneasy as I face today’s homeroom.

On the blackboard is a seating chart with no names written on it. One by one, the names of my classmates will be filled in on that paper.

On the teacher’s desk, there’s a handmade paper box prepared by the homeroom teacher. We stick our hands into the round hole on the side and pull out a triangularly folded paper. Every time, the seat change is conducted through a strictly fair lottery.

In other words, everything depends on luck.

I watch absentmindedly as everyone draws their lots one by one.

“Yamaguchi-kun, isn’t it exciting to change seats?”

Sato-san, who sits next to me, seems to be in high spirits.

When I turn my gaze to her, she is smiling cheerfully.

“I hope I get a seat by the window this time.”

“…Why?”

I can’t help but ask back.

Not that I care where she wants to sit.

“Because seats by the window are warm.”

She replies simply and clearly, making me think, “There you go.”

See, it doesn’t matter.

What Sato-san says is always trivial.

It’s fine now because it’s spring. But when summer comes, all you’ll get is direct sunlight. I can’t understand why anyone would want to sit by the window.

“Oh, and I hope I get the very back seat by the window.”

Sato-san continues in her carefree manner.

I don’t need to ask why. She probably thinks it’ll be harder for teachers to call on her if she sits in the back.

But that’s pointless. There are teachers who specifically target students like Sato-san, who aren’t doing well, even if they sit in the back. It would be the same no matter where she sits, and whoever sits next to her will have to deal with the trouble.

I’ve had my fair share of trouble so far.

There hasn’t been anything good about having Sato-san as my desk mate.

“Hey, Yamaguchi-kun, where do you think would be a good seat?”

She is still the same. Still excited.

I wonder what’s so fun for her, as she talks to me so cheerfully.

“It doesn’t matter…”

She probably doesn’t even notice my uninterested tone.

“Anywhere is the same.”

In a group of people like this, it doesn’t matter where you sit.

Unlike Sato-san, I don’t cause trouble for the person sitting next to me, nor do I meddle unnecessarily. Even if I talk, I am more attuned to the atmosphere.

It doesn’t matter who sits next to me.

So, I don’t care about the seat change, and I’m not enthusiastic about it.

“Really?”

Sato-san starts to voice her disagreement, but I stand up.

It’s my turn to draw a lot. The seating chart on the blackboard is already half-filled, and the homeroom teacher is motioning for me to come over.

“Hey, Yamaguchi, it’s your turn.”

“Good luck, Yamaguchi-kun.”

I hear a cheer behind me as I head toward the teacher’s desk, but all I can do is sigh.

What am I supposed to be lucky about?

Once I draw the lot, it’ll be goodbye to this seat. I won’t have to talk to Sato-san anymore. We weren’t particularly close anyway, and even though we’re in the same class, there’s no other reason for us to interact, so I won’t be bothered by her anymore.

I stick my hand into the box and pull out a triangular lot.

The number inside indicated a seat in the corner of the seating chart.

The very back seat by the window.

It was the very seat that Sato-san had wanted so much.

“Lucky you, Yamaguchi-kun.”

Sato-san, who stood up to take her turn, spoke enviously.

But I couldn’t say anything. I just watched her long, plain skirt swaying as she passed me in the narrow aisle.

She headed straight for the teacher’s desk, smiled at the homeroom teacher, and then reached into the box.

She checked her lot number, the teacher checked it, and only the teacher smirked. Sato-san looked awkward and smiled wryly.

The teacher wrote Sato-san’s name on the seating chart.

It was the front row, in the right column, directly in front of the teacher’s desk. Sato-san’s seat was in the front row. In other words—

The lottery ended without any problems, and after the seating chart was completely filled, we were moved to our new seats.

My new neighbor was Karasawa-san, a relatively quiet and studious girl. She was nothing like Sato-san. After glancing at Karasawa-san’s profile, with her glasses, I sighed.

At least I wouldn’t have to be constantly talked to or asked for help during class.

In the classroom during break time, I stayed in the back seat without the energy to stand up.

The sunlight here is bright. As expected, it will get scorching hot in the summer.

From here, the blackboard feels distant. I can still read the writing, but the blackboard, the podium, and the teacher’s desk all seem far away.

Sato-san’s seat, right in front of the teacher’s desk, also feels distant. From my seat, I can only see her back. I can only see her single ponytail falling on her uniform’s back. I can’t see her expression, of course.

She seemed to be exchanging words with a few female classmates.

The only thing I could see were those girls’ smiles, not Sato-san’s face.

It was a strange feeling.

Sato-san feels far away.

Not that she was ever close, but she used to sit next to me.

She used to sit next to me, meddle in my affairs, talk to me, and give me snacks. She used to sit next to me, struggle when called on by the teacher, smile as she told silly stories, and tie her ponytail again.

But from now on, she’ll be doing all that with her new neighbor—not me. It won’t be me who helps her when she struggles in class. It won’t be me who she tells silly stories to. I won’t get to see her tie her hair again up close.

—So what? This is stupid.

I slump over my desk and close my eyes.

In the darkness, I think. It’s just a change of mindset. Now I’ll be in a better environment to focus on studying for college entrance exams. I should just be happy about it. I should be glad that I’m no longer sitting next to Sato-san.

It doesn’t matter. I haven’t lost anything.

At that moment, I heard a loud crash.

It was the sound of a chair falling—a sound I had heard several times before. From the seat next to me. Now, too, I heard it from the seat next to me.

Startled, I raised my head and looked at the seat to my right.

And there,

“Oh, sorry. Did I wake you…?”

I found Sato-san, looking embarrassed as she picked up the fallen chair.

At that moment, for some reason, I felt my cheeks flush with heat.

But I didn’t want her to notice, so I quickly looked away.

“No, I wasn’t asleep.”

“I see. But sorry for startling you.”

Sato-san said, then added another comment.

“We’re next to each other again, Yamaguchi-kun.”

“—Huh?”

I turned my gaze back to her.

Sato-san, sitting in the seat to my right, hooked her bag onto the side of the desk and smiled.

“I look forward to being neighbors again. I might bother you a bit, though.”

“…”

“Oh, but I’m glad to be in the very back! I might get called on less during class.”

“…”

“So, I’m sure I won’t bother you as much as before. Definitely.”

“…Sato-san.”

Finally, with a breathless voice, I called her name.

“What is it?”

She tilted her head slightly.

“Um, why are you… here?”

I couldn’t finish the sentence with “Weren’t you supposed to be in the front row?”

She had drawn that seat in the lottery. Why was she sitting next to me now? I was so surprised that I couldn’t believe it, and my chest felt tight.

“Karasawa-san asked me to switch. She said she has bad eyesight and prefers the front.”

Sato-san mentioned the name of the girl who was initially supposed to sit next to me. Indeed, she wore glasses.

“So I took her place in this seat.”

Sato-san said as she lightly tapped the desk next to me.

“Let’s get along again, Yamaguchi-kun.”

I…

I wasn’t happy about it.

I wasn’t happy, but—if someone asks you to get along, you can’t just reject them.

Well, it doesn’t matter.

I really don’t care about Sato-san at all.