I looked toward the corner of the meeting hall where Misaki sat alone, stooped over on a steel chair. She was making herself small, trying as hard as she could to not stand out. There, in the corner of the room, she was destroying any trace of herself. She really was pale. Each time someone passed her, Misaki looked downward. It appeared as though she feared someone might try to talk to her. During the break, no one spoke to her. That seemed to be what she wanted.

In the friendly meeting hall, she alone stood out from the surroundings.

“Let’s go home.” I nudged Yamazaki toward the door.

“What are you saying, Satou? The service meeting is about to start!”

Yamazaki’s eyes were bloodshot, and I had some idea why. In the technical terms we were most familiar with—that is to say, in the vocabulary of erotic games—service was defined as “a special type of loving massage that a maid in an apron performs for her master.”

“This is a service meeting! Those girls over there will perform their services for us!”

“There’s no way that’s going to happen!”

Putting the angry Yamazaki into a full nelson, I muscled him outside. As we approached the building’s main exit, a voice called out from behind, “Hey, you!”

It was the younger of the two solicitors we’d encountered earlier, the middle-school-aged boy. His hands thrust in his blazer pockets, he glared at us. “You guys are really here just to make fun, right?”

Suddenly, Yamazaki took off. He ran away without even glancing back. Once again, I was left alone.

However, the boy didn’t yell at me. In fact, we started walking along the dark road together. Even though it was already summer, the night wind was unseasonably chilly. The boy was smoking a cigarette. He exhaled, “Ah…”

“That’s against the commandments, I think.”

Forestalling me, the boy drew a Zippo from his pocket and lit another cigarette with what seemed to be a practiced hand.

Walking on my right side, he explained, “Sometimes, people like you want to see something weird, so they come to observe the meetings. Stupid students, like you guys. Well then, what did you think? Was it funny?”

I didn’t say anything.

“I’m not doing this religion thing because I like it, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s my parents. Both my mom and dad love religion. In our house, I’m the only one with a decent head on his shoulders. If I ever said that I wanted to leave the church, what do you think would happen? I once said to my mom, ‘I want to join a school activity, and I want to play at friends’ houses.’ When I did, that old hag started screaming, ‘You devil!’ She wouldn’t even make me lunch for days.”