"Ah, but our lady principal, blessed in her wisdom, has already told us that it would be 'quaint' to sit on the floor. And cheap. I think Iwata-sensei complained about a similar problem and was told to look at he bright side of things, such as 'You didn't lose a chair, you gained a stool' followed by, 'and you haven't lose your job, yet.'"

He sipped his tea, putting it on the desk in front of him. "But your efforts to manage the budget are welcome, and were appreciated, even if they were left at good intentions," said Takeo, lying through his teeth. He knew there were ways it could've worked. He spent hours plotting how it would have worked, if he'd been in Akito's position the year before.

"Still, I could do without the chair. I'm hoping to do some print outs this year, and I'm sure my mother wouldn't appreciate me hijacking the printer from home. Nor would I. I'm fairly sure the printer is possessed, and the more critical a document is, the more likely it is to print out the Windows test page instead," he said, pausing to add, "Also, I require money for a glass frame and a beach tennis racquet."