Table of Contents
Table of Contents Page
Intermission: Little Sister Is Watching You
Loss 2: What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Sopping
Intermission: Spring in Bloom, Spring in Boom
Loss 4: A Girl Called Yakishio Lemon
Epilogue: Tsuwabuki Second-Years
Newsletter
Color Gallery
Copyrights and Credits
Characters
Foreword
Foreword
IT WAS OVER. PEACE HAD RETURNED TO THE LAND. “IT” being Valentine’s Day, and “the land” being the supermarket. But it was a false peace. Those chocolates that had survived the holiday were well on their way to being conscripted for White Day. That sweet aroma wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and it hit me as I passed by the sugary shelves, stirring still-fresh memories.
Electronics beeped familiar blips. Not far from my cart, I spotted a selection of hina-arare. Speaking of seasonal sweets, next week was Hinamatsuri. My family had our own doll display, of course, as was tradition for the holiday. I remembered the time when we were kids that Kaju confidently and staunchly decided that the emperor and empress dolls were, in fact, me and her. Leave it to my sister to make things awkward.
“Oh, hey.” I picked up a snack off to the side of the hina-arare. Inside the rectangular packaging were a bunch of pink, square mochi in neat rows. Boy did it take me back.
“Hey, I remember those. You ever squish ’em down to see how many you could fit on a toothpick?” The source of the ceaseless torrent of food quickly filling the cart was none other than my clubmate, Yanami Anna.
“Can’t say I did. I just saw Shikiya-senpai snacking on some a while ago.”
“Oh, you did, huh?” Yanami glared at me.
“Wh-what?”
’Twas a mystery. She just kept glaring. “You know something, Nukumizu-kun? You’ve been on thin ice lately.”
“I don’t know, actually. Care to elaborate?”
She took the cart from me and started walking. “I’m saying maybe we should start calling you Sneak-umizu, the way you’ve been acting.”
“Okay.”
Yanami’s glare got glarier. “What happened to our singles’ alliance, huh? We had a deal, and now you’re making eyes at girls? What’s up with that?”
I thought alliances required consent to be a part of. Speaking of consent, she was really misunderstanding just how much agency I had in being single. And her own, as a matter of fact.
“You’re reading way too much into this,” I said. “Let’s check out so we can get back to the club room.”
We’d been given a mission. By who? By Tsukinoki-senpai. To buy snacks. Our first interaction in a good while, and the first thing she did was send us on an errand. Some things never changed.
Yanami hunched over the cart and peered inside. “Potato chips, every flavor. Chocolate. Soft drinks. Tea. Think that’s everything?”
I followed suit. “Do we need all these cup noodles? She asked for snacks and drinks.”
“It’s called kaiseki, Nukumizu-kun. Haven’t you ever had a full-course meal? Someone’s uncultured.”
If her goal today was to piss me off, she was in top form this evening. But then it hit me that what she just said implied she considered cup noodles part of a traditional Japanese full-course. That saddened me beyond words.
She raised one of the cups aloft. “The last course is always soup or rice or something, but this? This here’s the king of carbs. And it’s got soup. Two for the price of one.”
I nodded. Not in understanding. Just nodded. “Cool. Let’s lose a few of these. You can keep yours.”
“What about everyone else’s? They’re gonna be hungry.”
“We’ll live. Let’s use the extra money to grab taiyaki or something on the way back. There’s a place near here.”
Her eyes lit up. “I saw dango too! All right, all right. I choose,” Yanami grinned, picked out one of the cups, and held it high, “you!”
Yakisoba. Wasn’t even ramen.
“There’s no soup in that. You’re compromising your ideals.”
“I crave what I crave.”
Didn’t we all?
I lined up at a register while she went and put the remaining cup noodles back. When she returned, she nudged me with her shoulder. “So why d’ya think Tsukinoki-senpai made us go shopping?”
“I assume because there’s something to…celebrate.”
We were in the latter half of February now, the tail end of college exam season. Tsukinoki-senpai had already flunked out of five. One remained. And according to Komari, that one was a shot in the dark. Results would have come out today.
My expression darkened.
Yanami nodded. “If she had good news, you know she’d be rubbing it in our faces right about now. These aren’t celebration snacks. This is stress eating. Trust me on this one.”
I tried to think of a reason to argue. I couldn’t find one. “I think you’re right.”
It was a dark day. The first of Tsukinoki-senpai’s life as a wanderer. Aimless in the unemployed void between secondary and tertiary education. A ronin.
I made a mental note to be nice today.
Loss 1: Briny Confessions
Loss 1:
Briny Confessions
THE TSUWABUKI LITERATURE CLUB WAS SITUATED in a lonely corner of the west annex. Yanami and I knew the way. We slowly walked down the final hallway, groceries in hand.
“Don’t forget,” I said. “No exams. No studying. Not a word about college. We keep things light.”
“Relax, dude. Have a little faith in your girl’s conversational skills.”
Faith, I was short on. But I was willing to cede this specific field to her.
At the door, we each took deep breaths before entering.
“We’re back,” I timidly announced.
It was only Komari inside. She was standing on a chair, trying to pin decorations to the wall. “T-took you long enough. Come help me.”
“I see Senpai isn’t here yet.”
Komari tottered down, then held one of the long, dangly decorations out to me. It was a series of strips of paper linked together like a chain.
Yanami studied it. “Looks like something you’d hang up for a birthday.”
“I-I thought it would set the m-mood,” Komari replied, grinning shyly.
I shook my head. “I get that you wanna cheer her up, but this is a little patronizing.”
“Agreed,” said Yanami. “At least make the colors black and white.”
Not helping.
“Huh? B-but—”
Before Komari could finish, jaunty footsteps came tapping from the hallway. We all glanced toward the door, where the footsteps stopped.
A second later, it flew open. “Hey, everyone! How ya been?”
There, wearing a beaming grin, was our ex-vice prez, Tsukinoki Koto with her trademark pigtails. She seemed a little skinnier than the last time we saw her, and her eyes, framed only by her long eyelashes and liberated from plastic, had a more mature look to them.
“Wait, your glasses!” I blurted. “Did you switch to contacts?!”
“Noticed, eh?” She smirked.
That was some transformation to make this close to graduation. Brave.
Senpai took a big, graceful step forward—straight into the table. “Ow. Sheesh, I’m blind without these things.” Feeling her way to a chair, she fished her glasses out of her pocket and put them on. I was betrayed. To what end? “Thanks for shopping, you two. Let me reimburse you.” She felt around for her wallet.
Before she could find it, Yanami thrust a taiyaki at her. “I know life isn’t fair, Tsukinoki-senpai, but hang in there!”
“Uh, thanks? Why’s this got teeth marks on it?”
I poured some soda into a mug and set it in front of her. “A year’s not so long in the grand scheme of things. Hey, think of it like one long commute. You’ll get there eventually, and who knows what you can accomplish in the meantime?”
Yanami threw her head up and down in agreement. “What he said! My dad was all over the place when he was a kid, but now he almost kind of has it all figured out! If he can do it, so can you!”
Tsukinoki-senpai bit into the red bean-filled pastry, tilting her head. “Hold up, I think we’re on different wavelengths.”
Oh god, did we screw up already?
“Komari, quick. She needs unsolicited, half-assed life advice!” I said in desperation.
But Komari shook her head. “Sh-she passed, you guys.”
Yanami and I shared in a harmoniously stupid, “What?”
“That’s right.” Tsukinoki-senpai hoisted her mug up proudly. “You’re lookin’ at a college student.”
Silence followed. Until Yanami cleared her throat. “It was Nukumizu-kun’s idea. I believed in you all along.”
Talk about a load of bull. She was trying to make me out as the villain.
“So, uh, which school is it?” I asked, quickly changing the subject.
“Good question.” Tsukinoki-senpai pulled out her phone. What kind of an answer was that? Everyone held their breath while we waited to be disappointed. “Ah, found it. See here? Says ‘passed’ on the log-in screen.”
We squinted at the tiny screen.
“Meiai Gakuin,” I read aloud. “Going into management? Huh.”
“Meiai? That where I’m going come April?”
“Yes. Please. You really don’t have much of a choice.”
Once assured that she had actually, for real, gotten into college, we could finally celebrate in earnest. All bets were off. Yanami busted open one potato chip bag after the other, and no one even cared to call her out for it.
“Yanami-san, did you already eat all the white shoyu flavor?” I asked.
“Chill, there’s another bag. Unless I ate that on the way from the store. Oops.”
No chips for me. Yanami, however, was going strong. Three chips at a time. All different flavors.
I left her to it and asked Tsukinoki-senpai, “So are you going to move in April?”
“That’s the plan,” she said. “I’m meeting with a real estate friend tomorrow.” She wore a bit of a sad smile.
Meiai was in Nagoya, on the western end of Aichi Prefecture. Toyohashi was east. It wasn’t not commutable, but knowing Tsukinoki-senpai, that would be asking for trouble. She’d pretty much need her boyfriend around to make sure she actually went to class. And that was a whole ’nother can of worms.
“How are things going for Tamaki-senpai, by the way?”
Tamaki Shintarou—boyfriend and ex-president of the lit club. He was going all in on one of those selective national universities in Nagoya. He didn’t even have a fallback.
“Tomorrow’s the second phase of exams. He’s in sprint mode now.” She tossed a chip in her mouth. It was a strong attempt at nonchalance, but there was clearly worry in her eyes.
“H-he’ll pull through,” Komari said reassuringly. Quietly, though, as if to herself. She gripped her oolong tea tight.
“He sure will.” Yanami patted her on the head. “Our Prez’ll be just fine.”
Technically he wasn’t Prez anymore. That was me, thanks.
Tsukinoki-senpai smiled and opened a big bag of chocolate. “Didn’t mean to bring the mood down. C’mon, we gotta pig out or all this food’ll go to waste.”
“M-maybe we should just save some,” Komari started to suggest. In defiance to her modesty, however, Yanami had turned a chip bag up and was funneling the contents into her mouth.
She noticed Komari’s scrutiny. “Wanna try? Hang on, lemme open a new bag for you.”
“Y-you don’t have to do that!” she squawked.
“The real flavor comes from the back of the throat. Here, head back. Open wide.”
Down the hatch. The look on her face as she drowned in potato, you’d think this was a kind of new-age torture.
Tsukinoki-senpai looked on in relative safety, nibbling on mitarashi dango. I set some tea in front of her. “In case you’re thirsty,” I said. “Just brewed it.”
“Well, aren’t you sweet.”
“Hey, you sponsored all this. You can have a little pampering as a treat.”
She took short, timid sips of the piping hot liquid, glancing askance at me. “Ready for next year? Gonna be some new faces.”
“I haven’t even thought about it, to be honest. Seeing you in the club room every so often has kinda made the fact we’ll be second-years soon slow to sink in.”
Tsukinoki-senpai chuckled. “Tell me about it. Hard to believe I’m graduating.” She spun the skewer of dango in her fingers. “Probably won’t hit me till I wake up the next morning and realize, oh, I don’t have to be at school. That I’m heading into a whole new world.”
Only a week left. We were talking in “only”s now. Wasn’t too long ago that goodbye was “still” a long way off.
“Think I’ll still pop in when I can though,” she said. “I’ll be bored until I move out for real.”
“I mean, feel free.”
We went quiet, instead focusing our attention on whatever it was that Yanami and Komari were doing. But the silence didn’t last long.
“Congrats, Senpai!” came a shrill yet booming voice as the door exploded open again. Who else but Yakishio?
“Look who showed up! It’s been a while, Yakishio-chan,” said Tsukinoki-senpai.
“Sure has. I was real worried about you, Senpai. Nukkun kept talking about how you were totally gonna fail.”
“Did he, now?”
I didn’t remember saying that. I probably had. But I didn’t remember it.
I made a tactical retreat to brew more tea, and as I poured the hot water, Yakishio came up to me with taiyaki in hand. “Make me a cup too?”
“We’ve got oolong and soda if you want that,” I said.
“Eh, I’m okay. Don’t wanna cool off too much.”
Was I crazy, or was she being uncharacteristically meek? She kept shooting glances at the others out of the corner of her eye.
“You can sit,” I told her. “I’ll bring it to you.”
“Hey, you free this Sunday?”
That came out of nowhere. The answer, though, was obvious. “Uh, yeah? But why do you ask?”
Yakishio leaned in close. The smell of her citrus deodorant tickled my nose. Her shoulder touched mine. Then, right into my ear, she whispered, “Wanna go on a date?”
***
That word never stopped bouncing around inside my head. Even as I climbed the stairs back home, I kept repeating it.
Date.
An ambiguous term. A relative term. It could mean many things of varying implications. Often confused, but Yakishio had put it as plainly as possible. She had asked me on an honest-to-god date, and frankly, I never thought something like this would ever happen to me.
I opened my bedroom door, heart still pounding, and inside I found Kaju holding a tape measure. “Oh. There you are.”
“Welcome home, Oniisama!” She placed the tape measure on my desk, then circled around to help me take off my blazer. “I hope you had a good day at school. We’re having that buri daikon I know you love for dinner!”
“Oh, nice. Looking forward to that.”
Kaju deftly hung my blazer on a hanger and then undid my tie. I kind of just let her do her thing, but that tape measure still bugged me.
“What were you measuring?” I asked.
“I was thinking of remodeling.”
Interesting. Normally people remodeled their own rooms.
“I’m, uh, kinda fine with how everything is. What’s wrong with it?”
She gripped my tie, which now hung loose in her hands. “Nothing, really. Just weighing the possibility of fitting my bed in here.”
“I’m gonna go with probably not.”
“Okay, but what if it was a single full-sized—”
“Still no.”
Classic Kaju. I thought back to Valentine’s Day. Things had gotten a little messy, a few wires crossed, but it was nothing a heart-to-heart couldn’t fix. She’d been feeling anxious about the future and what it meant for our relationship. Things were a lot better now. Granted, these days, she was even clingier than usual. That part was a little concerning.
She went to put my tie in my closet. I stared past her as a thought occurred to me. What would I wear?
“Hey, where’d the shirt I bought last year go?” I asked. “The one with the newspaper print.”
“Some bugs got to it, so I threw it out. Holes right through the letters. Totally illegible.”
Well, that sucked.
“What about the one with the chill dragon that’s just vibing?”
“Vibed straight off into the great blue, I’m afraid. It was a very windy winter.”
Couldn’t argue with that. Toyohashi was breezy on the best of days. That left me with some pretty bland options.
“Maybe too bland for this weekend,” I thought to myself.
Kaju’s eyes gleamed. “This weekend? Do you have plans, Oniisama?”
“Uh.”
With a masterful flurry of ums and wells and other attention-diverting filler words, I successfully dodged the question and shut my closet. She didn’t need to know about my personal life. What kind of clingy older brother goes reporting dates to his little sister? Not this one.
***
Sunday. The weather was suspiciously nice. No wind. Pleasantly sunny. It was a decidedly “almost Spring” kind of morning. I was in front of Takeshima Aquarium, not far from Gamagori Station, itself only about a twelve-minute train ride from Toyohashi. Wondering.
Why had Yakishio asked me out? I must have asked myself that question at least a hundred times, and I still lacked an answer.
Dates. What were dates? Things men and women went on together, typically under the assumption of mutual attraction. But the existence of things like group dates implied a kind of versatility to the term. And that raised enough doubt for me to squash any notion whatsoever that a girl like Yakishio could be at all romantically interested in me.
“She was just messing with me, right?”
That had to be it. Us? Alone together? In secret? At an aquarium? Sure, that was a little suspect, but I was a professional at scenarios just like this. Yakishio was just stringing me along on another one of her weird whims.
Right?
I awkwardly straightened my jacket collar. Today’s outfit was courtesy of Kaju and our dad’s wardrobe. I wore a light turtleneck underneath said jacket, and it made for a pretty sophisticated look, but I couldn’t help but cringe at the thought of Dad trying to pull it off. I figured this stuff had probably been shoved so far back in his closet that he wouldn’t miss any of it.
It’d been years since I last visited an aquarium, but it was just like I remembered it. There was something nice about places that just didn’t seem to change. Takeshima was particularly classic, having been around since my grandparents’ time, and you could tell by the compact architecture. Still, business was evidently doing well. Most of the clientele were families, and there were a lot of them. Next door had apparently once been some kind of souvenir shop, but it was out of business now, and the whole ensemble came together in this weird, vintage kind of way that made me oddly nostalgic.
That was when I saw her walking over from the parking lot. A crop of short, fluffy hair bounced and swayed over a tawny face I’d know anywhere. It was Yakishio all right.
I started to raise my hand in greeting but froze. Her outfit was a simple thing—a tight miniskirt and a baggy, cozy-looking sweater. But on her specifically, damn was it eye-catching. It felt like I was seeing her in a whole new light. Yakishio was pretty.
Yakishio finished my half gesture and waved. “Hope you weren’t waiting long, Nukkun. Whatcha starin’ at?”
“Er, uh, nothing. Sorry.” I wasn’t even sure what I was apologizing for. Don’t get me wrong, I never considered Yakishio unattractive by any means. It just felt like I’d been sucker-punched with cute. “Should we go and, um, get tickets?”
“Hold it right there.” Yakishio grabbed my arm as I started to escape. She brushed her hair aside, and an earring glimmered in the light. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Was I? I wasn’t late. Didn’t owe her money. And that left only one cliché I could think of.
“You, um, look fancy.”
“Just fancy?”
“Nice. You look nice,” I stammered out.
Yakishio gave a wide, toothy grin. “I’ll allow it.” Praise be. “Let’s hurry before they sell out.”
“I don’t think that can happen at—hey, stop tugging!”
I wiped some sweat with my handkerchief. That pretty much clinched it. My doubt became certainty.
This was a date.
***
Takeshima wasn’t a big aquarium. All of its exhibits fit on a single floor, and you could see everything in just a few minutes. It had charm, though. There was a reason it was popular.
“This says horseshoe crabs aren’t that tasty. You think that’s true, Nukkun?”
“They do have blue blood.”
That reason was the handwritten labels accompanying each exhibit, which included the staff’s firsthand accounts of the animals’ flavor profiles. Yanami could have whiled away an entire day here.
We were taking our time, savoring each fish on display. As we came to the next tank, Yakishio howled in excitement. “That’s a crap ton of eels!”
As she so eloquently put it, there were indeed about ten or so large eels squirming around in the water. According to the text, there were eight different species in that one tank.
“What’s the point of them coming in different types?” she wondered out loud while she ogled. “Not like you can tell ’em apart.”
She’d have to take that complaint to the big guy up top.
“Well, if there weren’t so many, we wouldn’t have any bio…whatever. Biodiversity. Or something.”
“Right. Biversity. Gotcha.”
This conversation was definitely skewing to one end of the bell curve, and not the good end. Next on our tour was a big, low tank in the center of the room. It was about the size of a living room rug and short enough that you could see straight into it from above.
Yakishio scurried over like it was the coolest thing ever. I took my time following, not even attempting to match her energy. I was shocked at how normal this was going. That four-letter word still hung over me, ominously, but Yakishio was Yakishio’ing so hard that it kind of distracted me. I was keeping my cool.
I was keeping my cool, right? God, I hoped so.
“Hurry up, Nukkun!”
“I-I’m coming.”
I peered into the aquarium with her. Colorful, tropical-looking fish darted and weaved around clusters of platelike coral. We stopped talking and just stared. Stared at the fish.
And then my mind wandered to last summer. That night at the shrine. The smell of dirt and wilderness. Yakishio, crying next to me. Now, all I could smell was makeup and perfume.
I glanced at her to find her big, brown eyes already studying me. “What’s up?” she asked.
“Wh-what’s up with you?” I shot back.
She smiled. I caught a flash of maturity in it. “Pretty, huh?”
“Y-yeah.” I flitted my gaze back down to the water.
I caught her eyes again in the reflection, and we grinned at each other.
The surface of the water glistened. Yakishio’s earring gleamed. The ripples captured it. And I caught the ripples.
The noise around us sounded light-years away. I stood in that void and just stared. Stared at the fish painting her profile.
***
We were watching the capybaras through the glass when she finally broached the subject.
“Hanging out, just the two of us. Reminds me of that night. Remember? When we went to Aoki. The elementary school.”
“Last summer?”
Yakishio nodded.
It was right around the end of summer break last year. She and Ayano were meeting to have one final talk. To settle things for good. She and I walked there together the night it happened. The night her first love became past tense.
I didn’t know what happened. I didn’t know what they talked about, how Yakishio felt about it, nothing. The only thing I could reasonably assume was that, whatever happened, it meant a lot to her. It was a part of her. A big, gleaming shard of a memory gatekeeping the way to her heart.
I noticed her staring at me. My inner monologue quieted itself. “Wh-what?”
Yakishio didn’t answer. She just stared. I did my best to meet her gaze, heart pounding out of my chest.
Then she looked away.
What? Had I upset her? How? Resigned to ignorance, I started making my way to the next exhibit but felt it again.
I turned. And she looked away. She covered her mouth, and her shoulders shook. So that was it. This girl was toying with me. Unfortunately for her, I was feeling spiteful.
I faced forward and started walking again—then turned right back around.
“No fair!” she whined. “Fake-outs are cheating!”
“All’s fair in love and war, Yakishio. Now we’re even.” I resumed walking for real.
“It’s two-to-one at best, buddy.” She followed, most displeased.
Foolish girl. All according to plan. While her guard was down, I whipped around yet again.
But she’d been quicker. My cheek turned right into her finger.
“Three-to-one,” she said. This girl. She was toying with me. In a game I didn’t even know the rules to. “I’m hiding, Nukkun. Try and find me.”
Gluing herself to my back now, was she? I turned. But she grabbed my shoulders and turned with me.
“Four-to-one!”
“Can you not?” We were drawing attention now. No doubt everyone thought we were the most annoying couple in the world. “All right, you win. I give up.”
“Aww, already?”
“We’re making a scene. Come on. More fish.”
“Fine.” She stuck her tongue out before giving me a little shove.
Yakishio was firing on all cylinders today. I wanted to pretend I was above it all, to put on a straight face, but my lips wouldn’t listen. They wanted to curve up.
“Huh,” I murmured to myself.
Turns out, dates were pretty fun.
***
My first ever date was going well, all things considered. After a quick bathroom break, I came out, made sure Yakishio wasn’t around, and took a second to breathe. Our weird little glancing game had evolved into seeing who could stand in each other’s way the most, which was exactly the kind of stupid game little kids would play. But we were on a date. Which somehow made it flirting?
This was the discovery of a lifetime. For me, anyway. I had to get Yanami and Komari’s input later. Would make good material for my next story.
“Slow down,” I muttered to myself. “Be rational”
Yakishio and I? Friends. Just friends. Friends on a date. And Yakishio was never not acting like a little kid. This wasn’t special.
Convinced with my well-reasoned arguments, I suddenly noticed a figure flit just out of the corner of my eye. It lingered long enough that I swore I could recognize it. The silhouette of a tiny gremlin I was used to seeing huddled in some corner of the club room with a book or otherwise hurling insults at me.
I went to investigate.
“Whatcha doin’, Nukkun?” But Yakishio stopped me.
“Huh? Oh, just thought I saw something over there.”
“Y’know what?” Yakishio peered past my shoulder, down the hall, keenly interested all of a sudden. “I bet it’s an animal. There are zoos that let geese and stuff run loose.”
“This is an aquarium. Fish don’t do much running.”
“Splash some water on ’em, they’ll be fine. Anyway, we gotta get going!”
She was right. It was almost time for the pièce de résistance: the sea lion show.
Yakishio and I headed outside. The stage was fairly modest—only about two lit-club-rooms in size—but in front was a pool about twice as large. Still, it was a very cozy venue.
Seating was layered in five staggered rows. We found a couple seats on the third.
Yakishio soaked it all in. “It’s been forever since I saw the show here. Five years or something. Looks the same as ever, though.”
The same for me. The older I got, the less family outings we went on, and the more time we all seemed to spend on our own. It didn’t make me particularly sad. Just acutely aware of the passage of time.
“Last time I came must’ve been when my sister was in elementary school,” I said. “Hard to find excuses to do things like this without a younger sibling.”
“Guess so. My sister’s in sixth grade.” Yakishio. An older sister. Now there was a surprise. Images of her and Asagumo-san playing house assaulted my mind completely and utterly against my will. “She’s real quiet, though. Big smarty pants too. Yeah, yeah, ‘so the opposite of you.’ I know you’re thinking it.”
“Whoa, how’d you read my mind?”
Yakishio gave me a look and tugged my ear. It did not feel good.
Meanwhile, amid my unjust torment, the seats around us began to fill. About the time people started having to stand, a woman came out with a sea lion in tow. They got into position, and the show began. The woman threw rings, and one after the other, the seal caught them around its neck.
“Look at it go, Nukkun!” Yakishio cheered. “That’s the coolest friggin’ seal in the whole world!”
A child trapped in the body of a sixteen-year-old. That was what Yakishio was. True, the woman knew how to throw those rings, and the seal sure knew how to catch them, but…
Actually, damn, that looked pretty difficult. I never really appreciated that as a kid. The tricks weren’t at all too complicated, but by the time the little guy made its last jump from the pool into the air, I just had to applaud.
“Did you see how high he went that time? I can’t believe we almost missed this!”
“Y-yeah,” Yakishio stammered. “Right.” Completely sapped of her earlier enthusiasm, her hand hovered in the air, like she’d just been reaching for me. She fidgeted nervously.
“What’s wrong? Catch a bug or something?”
“I, uh…” The rest of the audience started to filter out, and Yakishio leapt to her feet. “I gotta go make a call!”
“Uh, okay. No problem.”
“I’ll be right back!” Phone in hand, Yakishio scurried back inside.
I stayed sitting in my seat. What in the world was that all about? Absentmindedly, I glanced down at where she’d been sitting and found a folded piece of paper. Bus times, I figured. Nothing else. So when I picked it up and read it, big, cutesy bubble font was the last thing I’d expected.
Step 1: Holding Hands
Don’t rush it! Drop hints. Try to steer things so that he makes a move first!
I had not accounted for this possibility. Not a bit. Nope. There were other steps beyond that first one, but those were none of my business.
“We’ve totally held hands before, though,” I muttered to myself.
So what was the note for?
I stood. A sudden phone call. A secret note. I’d read enough manga to know that these were all signs of an upcoming major plot twist. Then, as I was heading inside, I saw it again. Out of the corner of my eye. A gremlin lurking behind the seats, an entire head shorter than me in stature. The little, bouncing tuft of hair was a dead giveaway.
Gee, wonder who that was.
I snuck around to confirm my suspicions as to the nature of the bouncy tuft. What I found beneath the fluffy anomaly was a girl. About a head shorter than me. Her back turned.
Before I could croak out a question, something gave me pause. Her outfit. She had on a bright yellow hoodie and short shorts. On her back hung a green bag absolutely infested with tin badges and other miscellaneous accessories, jingling and jangling together. On her feet, the same green shade of sneakers.
Yeah, it was Komari. Her hair made that obvious enough, but the rest of her? What was I looking at? I peeked over the stranger’s shoulder at her phone, where a video of the previous show played.
“G-good shots.”
“What are you wearing, Komari?”
The little one squawked and flinched away from me. Her mouth flapped like a fish out of water as she clenched her phone. I had only one theory to explain this ridiculous behavior.
“That supposed to be a disguise?” I asked.
She shook her head fiercely. “I-I’m not Komari!”
Uh-huh.
I hadn’t told anyone about the date today, and based on the way Yakishio had asked me about it, I had a feeling she’d kept it a secret from the others too. And yet here Komari was. And that could only mean one thing.
“Who told you about this? And who else is here?”
“Wh-who else?”
“Who. Else.”
Komari met my intense gaze with a great deal of effort. And a few tears hanging in her eyes.
“Hey, I’m not trying to be mean!” I sputtered out. “Uh, here. Have some gum. It’s the kind you can blow bubbles with.”
She gingerly took it and popped it in her mouth. “I-I’m not Komari.”
Said Komari. But I couldn’t exactly lay into her anymore. That would be mean.
“Look, I’m, er, sorry. I might’ve been a little too harsh. Like, your outfit.” I gave it a second, less biased once-over. “I like it. It’s cute.”
Komari heaved like the gum had just sealed her windpipe.
“You good? I can pat you on the back if you want. I hear that helps.”
She hacked and coughed a few times before giving me a look that could kill. “D-die!”
And then she ran off. Inscrutable but at least not suffocating. I never did find out what she was doing here. Had we been followed?
Right on cue, Yakishio came back.
“Hey, Komari was just—”
But she blew right past me in a bronze blur. In a single leap, she jumped up to our seats and started looking for something.
I caught up to her and asked, “What are you doing?”
“Nukkun!” Her expression was the picture of panic. “There should have been a piece of paper here! A little one! Palm-sized! Have you seen it?!”
So it had been hers. I held it up.
“That’s it!” A relieved smile spread across Yakishio’s face. “Thank god. I was afraid someone might peek ins—” Her face changed. But the smile remained. “Did you peek?”
“A little.”
The smile was gone. She lurched forward and snatched me by the jacket collar. “It’s not what it looks like! My Mama made me take it! I told her I didn’t want it, but she made me! Okay?! Okay?!”
“I said only a little! I didn’t read it! Breathe! Let me go and breathe, Yakishio! Inhale! Exhale!”
“Inhale… Exhale.” Calm, she released me.
“So what is that piece of paper even?”
“Date tips or something, I guess. I dunno. I told my mom I was going on one and she threw a fit. She put these clothes together for me and everything.”
That miniskirt was her mom’s? Huh. Interesting. In a scientific sense. This was scientific curiosity.
“I mean, you’ve been on dates before. Like back with Ayano when you—” I shut up. Maybe a second too late.
Yakishio bopped me in the chest. “Hey, don’t gotta walk on eggshells around me. And it’s not really a date when I’m with Mitsuki. You kinda both have to want it to be a date for it to count, y’know?”
Preach. Oh, the wisdom that could come from lips unburdened by gluttony.
Yakishio spun around and started toward the aquarium interior again, humming. I followed, and inside, just past the automatic door, she beckoned to me from a nearby room.
“C’mere,” she said.
“Working on it. Why?”
I went deeper into the room. It was dim there, with a hexagonal tank glowing far in the back. Jellyfish drifted listlessly around in it. Yakishio and I watched them in silence. It was just a plain white light that illuminated the darkness. Nothing fancy. But the jellyfish had simple taste, and it was more than enough for them to float contentedly.
It started to get awkward. I felt the urge to fill the quiet. “Almost feels like an actual date.”
Yakishio nudged me. “Wow, rude. This is an actual date, as far as I’m aware.” Granted. She pursed her lips in a pout. “You were having the time of your life just earlier. Pulling fake-outs like that.”
The flirting—er, the game. Right.
“How else am I supposed to beat you?”
“Fine, I guess you just hate looking at me that much.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
She stood in front of me, and she stared. “All right. Then no looking away. Starting now.”
The game was on. Whatever it was. But did we have to settle this in such, well, close proximity?
“Time-out,” I said.
“No talking.”
Yakishio stared. In the dim light, before the gently glowing jellyfish, she stared. So closely I could see her long eyelashes sway every time she blinked. Every perfection in her skin, tanned yet somehow undamaged by the sun. The faintest hint of a smile playing about her delicate lips. In those deep, brown pools, I saw myself. The smell of makeup and perfume numbed my other senses.
Just when I’d hit my limit, Yakishio ended the silence. “We’ll call it a tie.” Shyly, she shuffled back.
“Huh? Uh, sure. Okay.” Only about half the meaning of her words really sank in. Feeling hadn’t quite returned to my paralyzed brain.
“Moving on. More fish!”
Yakishio trotted off, and I followed.
***
“Why’re you such a ’fraidy-cat? Just touch it, Nukkun. It won’t hurt.”
“I-it just freaks me out a little, that’s all.”
I retreated slightly. Yakishio closed the gap, smirking slyly.
The date went on, and we now found ourselves at the more hands-on part of the aquarium. One of those areas where you touch the fish that every aquarium seemed to have.
“It’s just usually stuff like hermit crabs and starfish,” I said. “Spider crabs? Really? That’s like, we’re out at the sandlot playing a friendly game of baseball and suddenly Ohtani shows up.”
Whoever’s idea it was to bring the gargantuan, meter-long crustaceans to the petting zoo, I had just a few questions for them. Those things were freaky just to look at, and it didn’t help that the area had been cloistered off like it was the final boss of the entire friggin’ place.
“I dunno about you, but I’d shake his hand,” Yakishio countered. “C’mon, look at that cutie. Who’s got the spikiest shell? You do!”
“Hey!”
She grabbed my hand and shoved it into the water. My fingers brushed the crab’s hard body. Yep. It was spiky.
“I’m done!” I blurted, recoiling back. “I touched it! I’m done!”
To think that this was the same girl I’d just shared a moment with not too long ago. Talk about whiplash.
“Like you need tips to hold my hand,” I grumbled.
“Tips?” Yakishio looked confused. Then the blush came. “You said you didn’t read it! I told you, I didn’t—” Then the smirk returned with a vengeance.
“What?”
“They had giant isopods over that way.”
Those were like giant sea pill bugs, basically, except about the size of a child’s palm. Why anyone would want to touch them—why anyone would think anyone would want to touch them—was a mystery beyond mysteries.
“Don’t forget we gotta wash our hands,” I said. “Moving on.”
Yakishio grabbed me by the hand. Hers was an iron grip. “The isopods are that way, Nukkun.”
“I, uh, really don’t do bugs. We don’t gotta do that. You can let go now.”
“Let go? That doesn’t sound like me. Since apparently I grab hands like it’s nobody’s business. According to some people.”
I never should have read that piece of paper.
“Actually, I saw they were selling some limited-edition snacks at the gift shop!” I rambled. “Let’s go check that out!”
“Snacks? Are they good?”
That timbre. That cadence. It wasn’t Yakishio’s. I whipped toward the familiar voice just in time to find the culprit slink behind one of the gift shop’s shelves.
“Am I crazy?” I asked Yakishio.
“Nope,” she said. “That was Yana-chan all right.”
We stared out at her hiding place.
“You see her?”
“Only barely. From behind.”
We exchanged looks, then with silent coordination, we split up and started to zero in on the gift shop from both sides. A pincer attack. She wouldn’t get away from us.
I circled the shelf, but on the other side, all I found was Yakishio. “Did you see her?” I asked.
“No. Huh. Maybe it was just someone who sounded like her?”
Doubtful. A girl like Yanami was one in a million. Or so I chose to believe. Still, this was weird.
Yakishio patrolled the area for a bit but suddenly stopped. “Hey, star sand.” She picked a key chain off of a rack. Inside a little glass ornament, branded with the aquarium’s name, was a sprinkling of microscopic, star-shaped debris.
“You into that sorta thing?”
She grinned wide, like a kid. “I had a jar of the stuff when I was little. But I wanted to touch ’em, so I opened it up. Inside the car. It got literally everywhere.”
I could vividly imagine the ensuing chaos. Yakishio, after some thought, put the key chain back.
“Not gonna buy it?”
“I’m just gonna wanna touch again.”
An impossible predicament. A teensy bit forlorn, Yakishio and I left the gift shop.
“I seriously thought I saw Yana-chan,” she said. “We couldn’t have imagined it, could we?”
A disguised Komari, followed by Yanami’s apparition. It couldn’t be coincidence.
I glanced left, then right, then lowered my voice. “I actually met Komari a while ago.”
“Komari-chan? Heck, that settles it.”
“Yeah. It had to be Yanami-sa—” Yakishio tugged my ear. “Uh, ow?!”
“Did you blab about our date, you dummy?”
“No! Of course not!”
She freed my ear. “I didn’t either. So what are they doing here?”
I wished I had the answer to that. Now that the cat was out of the bag, though, Yakishio would probably want to group up. Better than putzing around alone with me.
“Wanna find them so we can see the rest together?” I suggested.
“I dunno,” she muttered. She started walking. “I’m just kinda annoyed now.”
“Hey, I didn’t tell anyone. I swear.”
“Not at you.” Yakishio put her hands behind her back and strolled toward the feeding area. It was a big, studio apartment-sized space. The pool teemed with everything from fish to sea turtles. This aquarium was nothing if not extra.
“Hey,” I called out to her. “What do you mean, not at me?”
Without a reply, Yakishio went over to a table, dropped some money into the box, grabbed a couple cups of food, and wordlessly handed me one. It was filled with dried shrimp, and the sight alone was enough to get one of the turtles’ attention.
“Someone’s hungry,” Yakishio said. “Go on. Don’t be mean.”
“Er, right.”
I sprinkled some into the water, and in seconds the fish devoured it. Which was kind of messed up, because I’d meant it for the turtle. These things had manners about on par with Yanami.
“You’ve gotta drop it closer to their mouths.” Yakishio laughed. She’d already emptied her cup. She turned it down and patted the bottom. The turtle near her, getting the message, glided toward me next.
I wouldn’t make the same mistake again. I dealt with Yanami. I could deal with some fish.
Carefully, one at a time, I dropped dried shrimp right where the turtle could easily snap up. “I’ve cracked the code. Just call me the turtle whisperer.”
“Don’t like that. Whoop.” Yakishio grabbed my hand and shook the rest of the shrimp out of my cup.
“Okay. Rain on my parade, why don’t you.”
Pain.
Still holding my hand, Yakishio leaned in, and in a breathy whisper said, “It sucks that we’re busted, but it’s still our date, Nukkun.”
In her eyes, I saw hints of her annoyance. A bit of playfulness. And a few other things I couldn’t quite place.
I gulped and nodded clumsily. “R-right. This isn’t about them.”
“That’s what I’m sayin’. That right there’s the problem with you, Nukkun. That right there.” Yakishio returned her empty cup, wearing an impish smile. “But y’know, we can still have a little fun with this.”
“‘Fun’? What do you mean?”
“I play a mean game of tag.” With a wink, she gestured toward the exit with her thumb.
***
I gulped, dousing my burning throat. My heart pounded like it forgot how to do anything else. Glancing at my partner, Yakishio wasn’t the least bit winded. We were across the street now, which was mostly residential, and hunched behind a parked car. Laying low.
Yakishio cupped her ear and listened close.
“I coulda sworn they went this way. You see them, Komari-chan?”
Yanami. Yakishio crouched lower.
After that neighbors-be-damned hollering came a familiar pattering. “W-would it kill you to st-stop eating?”
“But it’s special senbei. It’s got powdered isopod in it. Want some?”
“N-no. I said no!”
The poor neighbors. Would they get lost already?
“Relax, you two. Let’s regroup. Bring the car around and cut them off at the station.”
There was a third voice. Tsukinoki-senpai? This just got twice as annoying.
“I like that plan!” shouted Yanami. “Lemon-chan’s fast, though. Think we’ll make it?”
“N-Nukumizu will slow her down.”
“True. Okay, we good.”
I felt so loved.
We waited until we couldn’t hear them anymore, then Yakishio stood with a stretch. “That went well. Let’s get outta here.”
“I have to take the train home though. What am I supposed to do?” Yakishio froze with her arms to the sky. “What?” Suddenly, they wrapped around mine. “Wh-what?!”
“You didn’t think we were finished, did you?” she finally replied. Chuckling, but in the way that people do when they’re playing off something embarrassing.
***
Right off the coast of Takeshima Aquarium was Takeshima. The island. Not the aquarium, but the island the aquarium was named after. A long, nearly half-kilometer bridge connected it to the shore.
“Hey! Hurry it up!” Yakishio waved at me from ahead.
We were barely halfway across the bridge, and I already regretted this decision. “Please, for the love of God, stop running,” I wheezed, clinging to the railing for dear life.
I looked back the way we’d come. At the foot of the bridge at shore was a park. I could make out families frolicking and relishing life from afar.
Yakishio jogged over and smacked me on the back. Ow. “We’re burnin’ daylight, Nukkun!”
“We’re burning more than daylight.”
“You can’t die on me yet. We’re just getting started.” She pointed toward the island. “See that? Stairs. There’s a shrine at the top!”
“Oh. Cool. Fun. Do we have to? Maybe the shrine’ll come to us if we ask nicely.”
“Doubt it. Let’s go!”
For all the burning in my chest, there was a coldness in my lonesome suffering.
Yakishio dragged me along by the arm. I gave her a side glance, and she was beaming, pointing and oooh’ing at passing seagulls. That was the Yakishio I knew. And I was on a date with her. Maybe I was beating a dead horse, but it still didn’t feel real.
I never quite shook that dreamlike state even once we finally made it and passed through the torii gate. But I sure did when I saw how high the stairs went.
“There’s gotta be a rest stop halfway up, right? Like a Doutor or something for drinks.”
Yakishio’s eyes were alight. “Not a chance. Race ya to the top! Ready, set, go!”
Then off she went like a bullet.
***
It was a miracle that I managed to bring my wobbly legs up and past the final step. My shoulders heaved as I huffed and panted like a suffocating fish. The plan had been to pace myself, but Yakishio, in all her cruelty, had not allowed me the luxury.
“I’m…not…in shape…Yakishio,” I wheezed.
“Bet it feels good to get your heart rate up, huh?”
If my heart didn’t give out first, sure. Anyway, we were here now, so I figured we might as well pay our respects. According to a nearby map, the main shrine was Yaotomi, but a number of other miscellaneous ones dotted the island. Daikoku. Chitose. Uga. That last one was for a god of food.
“Yanami-san probably would’ve loved this,” I said off-handedly. Yakishio started poking my cheek. “Uh, what? Hey!” I tried to back off, but the poking continued. Ceaseless. Increasing in fervor. It was starting to hurt. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, okay?”
The assault stopped. “Are you? What for? Do you even know?”
“O-of course I know.”
I didn’t have a single clue.
Yakishio pouted at me, my ruse a failure. “You’re not supposed to talk about other girls when you’re on a date, Nukkun.”
That was news to me. Noted. “I’m sorry, then. From now on, your name’ll be the only thing on my lips.”
“Well, that’s just weird.”
Hrm. Dates were hard. At least she wasn’t mad anymore.
We approached Yaotomi’s worship hall where we put our hands together. I made my usual prayer and wished for my family’s health, but this time I added a little postscript. For Tamaki-senpai’s exams. Usually, though, it was only one wish per offering. Was fifty yen gonna be enough? I took out my wallet to toss in another coin, and that was when I noticed Yakishio had already finished her prayer.
She stared absentmindedly at a nobori flag flapping in the wind. “You looked awfully deep in thought, Nukkun.”
“Couldn’t decide what to wish for. You?”
“I don’t make any when I visit shrines.” She clasped her hands together behind her head.
“Why not?”
“Just feel like I can’t have what I want without taking it from someone else.” She smiled. It was a sad smile. “So no wishes. Not for me.”
Then she walked off without another word.
I followed, searching for the right words. “Hey, you wanna talk?”
“About what? Why?” Yakishio swatted them away like the trite things they were. We continued along the cobblestone path, deeper into the shrine grounds.
“It’s just, this whole date idea was pretty sudden. I dunno, I thought you might be struggling with something. Didn’t want others to know.”
“Maybe. Not actually sure, to be honest.” Her pace was slow. Leisurely. “I’ve kinda ghosted the lit club lately. I can’t write. Feels like I haven’t really been a very good member.”
I started to call her crazy but stopped myself. These were her feelings. She was allowed to have them. To speak them.
“Every time I do show up,” Yakishio went on, “everyone’s talking about stuff I wasn’t around for. Yana-chan and Komari-chan are getting closer.” She shrugged. “Honestly feels like your sister’s around more than me these days.”
“What? Really?”
I knew she’d been visiting the student council occasionally ever since the open house. Had she been in the club room all that much, though? I crossed my arms, trying to remember.
Yakishio bumped me with her shoulder. “Just wanted to be a li’l sneaky today. Score a win for myself.”
“What’s that got to do with going on a date with me?”
“You really wanna know?”
“I really d—whoa!” Yakishio grabbed my hand and kicked into a run. “Slow down! I’m gonna trip!”
“Bro, I am going slow!”
I thought back to the beach last summer. She pulled me all the way around the shrine, where a set of stone stairs led down. Now that, I did not want to trip down. Making peace with my own mortality, we eventually made it, and the whole world opened up.
Yakishio stopped dead. “Holy…”
At the bottom of the stairs, the whole of Mikawa Bay stretched before us, silent waves lapping at the shore. We’d come out on the opposite end of the island. To our right, a walkway curved around the island’s outer edge.
“Whoa. Look, Nukkun!” Yakishio pointed at an island in the distance. “The beach we went to is that way, isn’t it? Is that island it?”
“It’s on the opposite shore. Way past that, I think.” Especially since the beach was not, in fact, on an island. “Also, the horizon is only about five kilometers out, or something like that. We wouldn’t be able to see it from here. Maybe if we went back up to the shrine. Let’s do some math and find out.” I pulled out my phone and looked for the right app, but Yakishio snatched it out of my hand. “Hey!”
“We’re gazing out at the ocean together on a date. Have a little common sense.” She looked down at my phone and sighed. “But I guess I just don’t do it for you. Not like those girly, long-haired hotties you love so much.”
“When did I say that was my type?”
With half-open, unamused eyes, she shoved my phone in my face. The wallpaper on display, to be specific. “Those are always the girls you have on here.”
That, I could not deny. But she’d been peeking at my wallpapers? Oh god. I really hoped she hadn’t seen Poyotan-sensei’s latest masterpiece.
Yakishio returned my phone then stepped off the path toward the ocean and made to jump to the rocky outcrop.
“Hey, careful!” I shouted.
“I’ll be fine. I saw someone takin’ pictures out here.”
There was a solid ten meters or so of rock to stand on, thrusting out toward the water, and you could pretty easily walk the entire length. If you wanted. I did not want to. So I stayed put and experienced it vicariously through Yakishio.
She made it to the end, then did a twirl. “The view’s great from here! You should come over, Nukkun.”
“Not feeling suicidal.”
Yakishio laughed. Inappropriately, if you ask me. “You’re such a ’fraidy-cat. You know I’ll leap to the rescue if you fall.”
My desire to join her was unchanged, but she had a look in her eye that said she wouldn’t back down. I got to rock-walking and shakily made my way across. Finding good footing proved to be a challenge.
“Yep, pretty view,” I said. “Time to go back.”
“And how can you tell from all the way over there?” Yakishio gave me a judgmental look from two whole meters away.
“I have to jump to cross that gap. If this were a game, missing that’d be an insta-kill.”
“Then don’t miss. Look at me. I’m perfectly—” Yakishio balanced on one foot then promptly wobbled unsteadily.
There was stupid, and then there was this.
I made the jump to help, only to slip myself.
“Nukkun!” Yakishio grabbed hold of my hand and tugged me up at the last second. “God, you okay?”
“I-I think so. Don’t see a game over screen.” The rescuer becomes the rescued. Yakishio was seriously buff. “Wait. Were you pretending to lose your balance?”
“Uh.” Yakishio gripped my hand and nodded meekly. “Sorry.”
Well, at least no one had been hurt. Seeing her this genuinely upset at herself pretty much killed any plans of mine to berate her.
“Gotta say, you were right. The view from here is definitely different,” I said.
Across the endless expanse of ocean, I could just barely make out the vague, blue-shifted outline of the Atsumi Peninsula. I couldn’t take my eyes away. A red-billed gull darted low and glided over the waves.
“Thanks for showing me this,” I said. “I get it now.”
“N-no problem.” Her fingers squeezed just a little bit tighter.
“I’m not gonna fall again. You can… Yakishio?”
I remembered the note. Step one. Holding hands.
Yakishio and I had done that plenty of times before. It was nothing, really. She just wasn’t letting go because she was worried about me.
As if to make a liar out of me, her fingers moved, intertwining themselves with mine. They were slender. More delicate than I thought they’d be.
“Step two,” she said.
Her voice was quiet, nearly stolen away by the salty breeze. But enough to tickle my ear. Listening was about all this statue could do.
Quietly, Yakishio continued, “You asked me if I’d been struggling with something lately.”
“Are you?”
She shook her head. “Not exactly. It wouldn’t be right to say I’m struggling when all my friends and teachers are so nice and understanding. The track team too. They expect a lot from me. They treat me good. Special.” She paused, hesitant. “It just gets a bit tiring.”
I could hear the guilt palpable in her words. I didn’t have any comfort for her.
“Here’s an idea,” she muttered breathlessly. “You and me. We join the go-home club together.”
I was dazed for a second. The “go-home” club? What did she mean by that? Probably not a secret society of people competing over commutes. Obviously, she didn’t mean a literal club. Instead of clubs, just going straight home after school.
“We can’t do that,” I said. “Just ditch our clubmates?”
“I’m saying we leave all that behind, Nukkun. We quit it all. The track team and the lit club. We just go our own way from now on. You and me.”
Yakishio stared at me with staunch, poignant eyes. The sun burned glistening scars against the waves, and they gleamed against her hair. I had to look away or risk blinding myself.
I said nothing. Until she finally let go and started back toward the path.
“You’re joking, right?”
She stopped. I realized too late my own cowardice. These were the wrong words. Evasive words. Veiling words.
I realized too late. But Yakishio didn’t. She glanced back at me over her shoulder. “Give it some thought. I meant what I said.”
Intermission: Little Sister Is Watching You
Intermission:
Little Sister Is Watching You
JR EAST. THE TOKAIDO LINE. SPECIAL RAPID TRAIN. Ogaki-bound. A small girl steadied herself using the strap hanging above, her arm stretched so high it went nearly straight up. Nukumizu Kaju could not hide the excitement plain on her expression, even as the train jostled her to and fro.
Her dearest Oniisama was going on a date.
He’d spent time alone with women in the past, but he was always loathe to call those outings “dates.” This time was different. This time, clear as day in his search history, Kaju had seen that four-letter word in all its glory, together with other queries such as “Takeshima Aquarium,” “first time,” and “what to wear.” Taken together, it had been a simple thing for the younger Nukumizu to deduce what exactly her brother was hiding from her. His searches for weather and traffic forecasts had further pinpointed a specific date and time.
Kaju wanted everything to go perfectly, even going so far as to bust out the clothing she’d badgered her father into buying. For her dearest Oniisama’s benefit, of course.
What she didn’t know, however, was his all-important partner. The lucky girl. She’d probed Yanami to no avail. That left either Komari or someone on the student council. But it also could have been someone else entirely that she was as of yet unacquainted with. After all, her Oniisama was the catchiest catch in this whole big, blue world. It was only a matter of time before all of its women fell to his charms.
The conductor rasped something over the speaker. She’d been riding for about ten minutes. They’d be at Gamagori soon.
“I must see it to believe it,” Kaju muttered.
With an expression like tempered steel, she alighted at the station, then descended the escalator while she reviewed the plan in her mind’s eye. Her brother would be at the aquarium right about now. Through the ticket gate she went, imagining the things he and his partner might have been doing. And there, she found a girl. A very minuscule thing in a yellow hoodie, short shorts, and a loud, green backpack.
“Komari-san? Is that you?”
“Whuh?! K-Kaju-chan? Wh-wh-what are you doing here?” Komari shrank. A defensive measure.
Kaju trotted up to her. “So you’re the one he’s going on a date with! I love your outfit! Very cute! I wasn’t aware this was your taste in fashion.”
“Th-they’re hand-me-downs.”
“Oniisama’s as good as beguiled. I assure you.”
“A-as good as what?” Komari blinked.
Kaju edged closer, her enthusiasm ballooning, but before she could continue her verbal barrage, a familiar voice came from behind her. “I knew that boy was going on a date.”
Kaju turned. It was Yanami Anna. She threw a lock of hair behind her shoulder with a dramatic flick of her wrist.
“Yanami-san?!” she blurted. “What? B-but it was only supposed to be with one.” Kaju covered her hand over her mouth in disbelief.
Yanami smirked. “Something about Nukumizu-kun last Friday just felt off. Lemon-chan was being all secrety too, and then you came asking about my plans on Sunday and how I felt about aquariums. I figured something was up.”
“Um, but why are you here? That’s what I want to know.”
Yanami strode closer to Kaju. “Same reason as you, little sister. We understand you on a spiritual level.”
“You do?!”
Clasping Kaju’s hand in both of hers, Yanami declared with the utmost confidence, “You’re here to take a big fat dump on their day!”
She wasn’t, as a matter of fact. She started to say so, but she was simply at a loss for words.
Yanami smiled gently, a gesture of understanding. “It’s scandalous, isn’t it? Going out all alone with another woman, and without a chaperone?” She winked. “I get it. I do. But you can’t go ruining their date just because it’s stupid.”
Ruin their date? Kaju wanted to deny it, but try as she might, her voice simply refused to come to her. This wasn’t about selfishness. She just wanted to burn every second of her big brother’s life into her heart while she still could.
Silencing her doubts, Kaju recomposed herself. “So you’re here to monitor him. But why?”
“Because love is banned in the lit club!”
Kaju flinched at the sheer volume of Yanami’s declaration. Gamagori Station was quickly descending into chaos, and the appearance of yet another participant certainly didn’t help things.
“Oh, you’re Nukumizu-kun’s sister,” said the mysterious fourth. “Yanami-chan invite you?”
It turned out to be the literature club’s former vice president, Tsukinoki Koto. She twirled a car key around her finger.
“Just a coincidence,” Yanami replied. “She’s here to spy too.”
“The date thing was true then. She’s really going for it, huh?”
Kaju, resigned to entropy, started reorganizing her plans in her head. Once her inner itinerary was rebalanced, she let out a small breath, then bowed to Koto. “We briefly saw each other at Tsuwabuki, during the festival. You’re here to take a…monitor my brother’s date?”
“I guess? I dunno. I’m just here for the bit, to be honest.”
Immediately, Kaju knew everything she needed to know about this newcomer. She shot a glance at Yanami, who was busy staking the place out.
“Is he about to be here, sister girl?” she asked.
“He took an earlier train, so I imagine he’s at the aquarium right about now.”
This wasn’t the plan, but Kaju could work with this. Even the size of their group would work in her favor. While they kicked up a fuss and drew her brother’s attention, she could get close and observe as much as she liked.
With a polite, parent-winning grin, she bowed to her senpai. “If you’ll have me, I’d like to join you.”
Loss 2: What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Sopping
Loss 2:
What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Sopping
THE MONDAY AFTER A BREAK WAS NEVER AN EASY thing to contend with. And yet, brave soldiers that we were, we still managed to trudge all the way to the end of the day. Waiting for us at homeroom, however, was a depression darker still.
“Guess what, class? One of Sensei’s friends has big news. She’s got a new boyfriend.” Our beloved Amanatsu-sensei was on yet another one of her tirades. She rested her elbow on the podium and idly twirled her hair in her finger. “Which is crazy, ’cause I don’t even remember her breaking up with the first one. Must be nice, huh? Living in a surplus world. Me? Stuck in the Bronze Age, I guess.”
I had a feeling I knew who that friend was. Didn’t need to hear the rest of this.
While the Amanatsu Show did its thing, I cast my eyes toward the window, where Yakishio sat. Her cheek was in her hand, and she stared lazily outside.
The go-home club. I never gave her my answer. After that bombshell, we just walked in silence all the way back to the aquarium. Then we split up. And just like that, my very first date was over. If the ramen I had at Sugakiya later hadn’t been so good, that might have been all she wrote for me.
“Oh, the weather’s too chilly? You ‘crave the warmth of another’? What about me? Who’s gonna treat my hypothermia? All poor Konuki-chan’s got is cats, you guys. It’s winter all year round for me.”
This homeroom was gonna be year-round if she didn’t wrap this up soon. And she was fishing for split ends now, which usually meant that wasn’t happening.
A dozen plucks of those, and she finally got bored, staggering to her feet. “Anyway, it’s March. Graduation ceremony’s Friday. Next year, you folks’ll be senpai.” Life returned to my classmates’ eyes. Sensei scanned us with a straight face. “And that means you’ll be in different classes. I’ve only got a handful of days left with you folks, and I gotta say, it’s been a pleasure.”
That was actually pretty nice for her. That made me worried for the rest of the week. She was spending those golden words awfully early.
Sensei smacked the class roster against her podium. “Dismissed! Now y’all be good boys and girls and get home safe.”
Freedom at last. I stood and searched for Yakishio among my stirring classmates. I hadn’t said a word to her all day, but I had to say something to her.
“Yakishio!”
She flinched as I leapt in front of her. “Nukkun? What? Sheesh, that was loud.”
“I, um, wanted to talk about yesterday.”
Great. Now what? I hadn’t thought this far ahead.
Yakishio awkwardly twiddled her fingers. “Right. Sorry about that. Probably shouldn’t have dumped that on you.”
“No, it’s fine. It was just sudden is all.”
What had all that been about? Where had it come from? If something had happened in our club that was eating at her, I needed to know. But there were a million and one questions running through my head, and all I managed to do was stand there and fidget like an idiot.
“I’m sure it sounded sudden to you,” she said. “But it’s been a long time coming for me.” She peered up at me. “I’d still like you to think it over. If that’s okay.”
“O-of course.” I nodded clumsily.
Yakishio flapped her skirt. “Anyway, today’s gym day. Gotta get going.”
“Oh. Okay. Bye.”
She trotted off, leaving the silent classroom behind her. All I could do was watch… Wait, why was it so quiet?
I remembered where I was and scanned the classroom. Every single person was staring straight at me. Even Yanami. Yikes. I’d never seen her look at me that way before. Didn’t even know it was possible for her eyes to get that wide.
All of a sudden, there was bubbly BGM and a floral scent in the air. Himemiya Karen planted herself in front of me. “Can I borrow you, Nukumizu-kun?”
“No thanks.” I started to retreat, but my back hit some kind of massive, immovable object.
“Look at this dweeb, turning you down, Karen-chan. Someone’s grown a pair.” Yanami stood firm behind me, and she wasn’t budging.
8K in the front. 4K in the back. It was over. Tsuwabuki’s famous 12K combo had me cornered.
***
We came to a diner. A very special dive, far from school. But today, my sanctuary was a prison.
Trembling, I sipped on my soda. Across from me, over an ocean of french fries, sat a beaming Himemiya Karen and a bug-eyed Yanami Anna.
“So,” the former said, her smile threatening in its stillness, “care to tell us about what you and Yakishio-san were talking about?”
Not to someone who had nothing to do with the lit club.
“Look, Himemiya-san, I’m sorry, but it doesn’t really concern you. I don’t think I should—”
The pink-haired protagonist slammed her fist on the table. “Doesn’t concern me?! If it concerns my best friend, Anna, then you bet it concerns me!”
What concerned me was why Yakishio’s business concerned Yanami. Also, it was a good thing she reminded me they were “best friends.” It was easy to forget that.
“I was going to fill her in,” I said. “But, we went out yesterday. Yakishio and I.”
“On a date.” Yanami glared daggers at me.
“Well, it, er, doesn’t really matter what it was.”
More daggers. This time from Himemiya-san. “How can you say that in front of Anna?! Does she mean nothing to you?!” Not unless they added her to the dictionary. Where did that come from? Even Yanami looked confused. “You can’t go on dates when your girlfriend’s literally right here!”
The plot: lost.
“My what?! Me and Yanami-san?! We’re not going out!”
“What?” Himemiya-san stole Yanami’s bug eyes. Which was a feat given her eyes were already pretty dang big. She glanced between us. “Anna, did it happen agai—”
“We’re not going out! We’ve never been going out!” One look at Yanami told me we were one letter away from a nuclear incident. “Tell her, Yanami-san!”
Slowly, like a rusty animatronic, she turned to face me. “L-looks like we’ve got a misunderstanding to clear up.”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
“Like, ‘again’? I’m the one who turned you down.”
“Uh, in your dreams maybe.”
Oh, she wanted to play this game, huh? Fine. I could play this game.
I downed my soda and clunked the glass down. “It’s time we got to the bottom of this. Last July was the source of it all. You misread my intentions, and that’s warped your thinking ever sense.”
“My thinking, huh?” Yanami raised an eyebrow. Ate a french fry.
I nodded, reaching for one myself before the rest could vanish. “Consider the observation deck a few months back, when you told me to confess to you. That’s just insane. No average person with a normal frame of mind would leap to that under typical circumstances. Which is to say—”
Yanami pointed a fry at me.
“You think I’m insecure.”
I answered with silence.
Yanami’s eyes narrowed. Her lips curved into a lopsided sneer. “That’s where you’re wrong, Nukumizu-kun. Boy meets girl. All alone. Boy has something important to say. If that’s not a confession, then what is, I ask you!”
“It wasn’t. That’s literally what I just said.”
She shook her head with the weariness of an older sister trying to explain arithmetic to her impatient younger brother. “Clearly you missed the invite to the collective unconscious. You misunderstood, my friend. Whether you were aware of it or not, that was a confession.” The collective what? She was just using big words to sound smart now. “And I said no. I turned ya down, bud.”
“Except you didn’t.”
“And the thing a few months ago? That was basically me shooting you down in advance. You’re welcome for saving you the trouble.”
The audacity of this sophist. It was high time someone gave her a reality check.
“How about we let Himemiya-san be the judge?” I said.
“I can accept that. Karen-chan would never betray me.”
“Me?” she questioned with a surprised twitch. She looked at me, then at Yanami. “So is this a…situationship sort of deal?”
“No!” we blurted together.
Yanami held her head in her hands. “Wh-whatever. Forget it. Your sentence will have to wait until judge number three gets here.”
“Number three? We’re waiting on someone?”
She nodded. “This is about the lit club, so I called Komari-chan.”
I guess that made sense. My eyes wandered in the meantime, and that was when I saw it. A bouncy tuft hidden behind some decorative foliage. This again?
I pulled out my phone to tell her to get over there. Instantly, I got a message back.
“Who’s that next to Yanami?”
Right. She’d never met Himemiya-san. I started to type a reply, thought about it, then got up.
***
Komari secured, I sat her down next to me.
Himemiya-san, straight across from her, welcomed her with eyes like the sun. “It’s so nice to meet you, Komari-san. Anna’s told me so much about you. You’re a writer, I hear?”
She got guttural gurgles for a reply. Still, the sun bore down. Komari shriveled in its radiance.
Having enough sense to notice this, Himemiya-san poked her tongue out and giggled. “Look at me, yapping. I’m such a yapper. Hey, how about a toast? Ready? Here, here!”
Komari managed to shakily bring her mug in contact with Himemiya-san’s, then froze up all over again. Calling these two oil and water would have been the understatement of the century.
“Karen-chan, you’re scaring her,” Yanami reprimanded her. “Sorry for dragging you out here.”
Komari nodded her understanding a few times, then directed her phone at Yanami.
She read it. “What did I need? Why are you asking me with your phone?” Yanami sipped her coffee while her hard-won affection points dissolved before her very eyes. “Well, to answer your question, I direct your attention to the defendant here. We have an impeachment on our hands.”
“Do we seriously have to go that far?” I spoke up. “Yakishio just wanted to talk to me about something. We weren’t doing anything wrong.”
Times like this, speed was key. I made my case fast and flawlessly.
Yanami scoffed. “Right. Of course. Silly me. I’m just confused, because what part of ‘just talking’ necessitated so much bodily contact? Would you mind elaborating on what you were ‘just talking’ about?”
That really set her off. Sore subject?
Himemiya-san fidgeted in her seat. “A-Anna, we really weren’t doing anything. I promise.”
“Oh, I know. I know. You’re not that kind of girl. Karen-chan’s not that kind of girl…”
Oh god. I did not like the turn this conversation was taking. Komari’s trembling fingers clung to my coat underneath the table.
“Let’s get back on topic,” I said. “This is about Yakishio, right?”
The girls looked at each other and nodded. Since when did the defendant have to bring the gavel down?
“What concerns us today is the manner in which you and Lemon-chan were whispering to each other in class,” Yanami said, fiddling with the tablet for ordering without even looking. “You may plead your case before the council decides your fate.”
“Again, Yakishio was the one who invited me out because she, I dunno, wanted an excuse to talk about something. It’s kind of complicated, but, well…” I could still hear her, even now. Her invitation. The fragility in her voice. I couldn’t accept it. Obviously, I wasn’t going to quit. So I summarized our conversation thusly: “She wants to leave the club.”
Succinct. To the point. A fine summary if I said so myself. Finally, they’d realize I didn’t deserve this interrogation.
Yanami stared at me like I did deserve this interrogation. “What in the world did you do?”
“Huh? Nothing, she was coming to me for—ow! Stop kicking me, Komari! It’s not just the lit club! She wants to quit track too!”
Yanami’s eyebrows went up. “Hold on. The lit club, sure, I guess, but track too?! She can’t do that!”
“F-fix this, Nukumizu,” Komari accused.
Apparently, this was my fault. Somehow.
Himemiya-san, silent up to now, furrowed her brow all cutesy like. “I’m a little removed from all this, granted, but isn’t Yakishio-san super fast? It’d be so sad if she quit running.”
It would. Most would think so. Most would find it sad to see her talent go to waste, and they wouldn’t be wrong to feel that way. It would be a shame. But when I thought of the way Yakishio looked on that rocky outcrop, the anxiety lurking in her eyes—it gave me pause.
“You’re right,” I said. “It’s crazy, but I don’t think she’d bring up the possibility if she wasn’t really agonizing over something. I can’t just tell her to snap out of it.”
No one said anything else for a while. Then Himemiya-san smiled. “That’s true. None of us know what she’s been grappling with.”
God, she was so much more reasonable than the lit club girls. Would have been great if she had literally any business whatsoever listening to our problems. Next issue: how to tactfully tell her she probably needed to leave.
As I pondered this conundrum, my phone vibrated. A message from Komari.
“What is she doing here?”
A timely query. Just when I finished typing a blunt, “No clue,” there was a shout.
“Got an extra-large rice for you folks!” hollered some cheery, employee-of-the-month type. They thunked a gargantuan bowl on the table then sauntered off.
“Is that seriously what you ordered?” I asked Yanami.
She side-eyed the tablet awkwardly. “Oops.”
Then she reached for the salt.
***
By the time we adjourned, it was already past sunset. The final decision was that we’d all just have to try talking to Yakishio in private on our own. Yanami had a lovely bowl of way-too-much rice and discovered that it was actually pretty good with Tabasco. Big stuff all around.
I was making my way to the station by myself when a bike pulled up next to me.
“Nukumizu-kun, do you really—why are you running?!”
“Thought you were gonna mug me.”
Yanami hopped off her bike, grumbling. She pushed it along as she walked with me. My gut told me I wouldn’t like what she wanted, so I sped up, but she kept pace.
“So are you gonna say anything?” I asked.
“You’re hiding something.”
I shrugged, feigning ignorance. “I told you the important bits. Yakishio’s going through stuff and thinking about quitting her clubs. All we can really do is be there for her.”
“And what’s that gotta do with the way you two were in class?”
“She…” I thought about it before continuing. “She invited me. To join the ‘go-home club’ with her.”
“Together? I don’t even know of any go-home club, though, so how would you even…” Something clicked in her brain. “Wait, is that for real what she said? Exactly? Nukumizu-kun, do you have any idea what that implies?!”
Did I? Did I know what that implied? Yanami, oh ye of little faith. “Obviously. She wants me to quit the lit club with her. I guess ’cause it’d be awkward leaving by herself.” I smirked, proud of my own social literacy.
Yanami stared. “Is that what you think?”
“I mean, what else would it mean? For the record, I don’t plan on going anywhere.”
Yanami nodded to herself, her expression a picture of tranquility. “Never change, Nukumizu-kun.”
People only said that when they were trying not to say something mean. I knew. I was socially literate.
Relieved and with renewed energy, Yanami butted herself right into my personal space. “Still. A date with Lemon-chan. How was it? She sweep you off your feet or what?”
“Maybe a little. I’m not used to dates, okay?”
“I feel ya. Lemon-chan’s pretty, so I can’t blame you for a few skipped beats. I’ll be lenient. This time.”
I’m honored, Your Highness.
“It was more than a few, granted. Like, ten or twenty.”
“Okay, that’s too many.” Yanami eyed me in disbelief.
“How? Is there a hard cap?”
“Yes. Absolutely. You might as well have had a heart attack, dude. That’s a public indecency charge right there. It’s scandalous.”
I wasn’t aware my relationship with Yakishio was a matter of public morals.
“Chill, it’s not like she’s actually interested in me,” I said. “Yakishio? With me?”
“That’s a good point. Lemon-chan? With you?”
Finally, we were on the same page. A rare occurrence. Still wished she would have argued at least a little.
Yanami mounted her bike again, satisfied. “Anyway, see you tomorrow. I’ll keep an eye on Lemon-chan.”
“Yeah, okay. See you tomorrow.”
Always an enigma, that one. What had she been so grumpy about before? And why was she suddenly fine again? Questions generally lacked answers where Yanami was concerned, so I put them out of mind and continued on my way.
***
“No club today.”
Message out. The group chat notified, I sank deep into my seat. It was the day after my impeachment trial, after school, and I’d elected to head straight home. Rest assured, not as a form of escapism. I’d tried to catch Yakishio so we could talk some things out, but that girl was fast. And I was slow.
“Coulda sworn I saw her get on this train,” I thought aloud. But search as I might, she was a phantom. Then the doors shut on me and, well, I couldn’t just tell the conductor to stop.
I surrendered to the gentle swaying. It was strangely empty today, and I’d availed myself to a bit more of the bench than usual, daring to spread.
“Oh well. I tried.”
Finding myself with some unexpected free time, I fished a book out of my bag. I was partway through the latest volume of The 101 Transfer Students Who Really Have It Out for Me, aka OneStu. The basic premise was that every day, some new, incredibly attractive girl transfers into the main character’s school. It was a rom-com, and the endlessly growing character intros at the start of every volume was a bit that never got old. As of the last volume, the count was up to twenty-seven, with eighteen dropouts so far.
My mind wandered to those eighteen. Those characters who the plot forgot about. I thought about the lives they must’ve led outside the pages, the friends they made, the exams they took, the people they fell in love with.
I shut the book.
If Yakishio stopped being the star of the track team, what would she be then? Would she still have that same, summery grin? I wanted to believe so.
Just then, someone sat next to me. I hadn’t been paying attention to how packed the car was getting, so I quickly moved my bag onto my lap and looked up. But the car wasn’t packed. Glancing sideways, I saw that the audacious individual who’d chosen this particular seat out of all the other empty ones was actually a girl from Tsuwabuki, but no one I recognized. She clutched her bag to her chest, shoulder-length hair hanging over her eyes as she muttered to herself. Freaky.
I got up, moved cars, and reseated myself. Yeah, that was weird. Maybe it was her usual seat. Some people could get catty when you messed with their routine. Thankfully, I was a good Samaritan. It was all hers now.
And then, from all the way on my high horse, I sensed a disturbance. Trepidatiously, I looked to my side. There she was. Still muttering to herself.
Freaky was an understatement now. What if I was the only one who could see her? Oh god, what then?
Head down, I held my breath as the train slowly, agonizingly crawled to a stop. Shin-Toyohashi Station. The last stop on the Atsumi Line. Even as I melted into the smattering of other commuters getting off with me, the girl stayed on my trail. It took everything to keep from booking it.
But then I made it past the ticket gate, and all bets were off. I bolted. No way a girl could keep up with me, a grown man.
“Hold it!” the girl cried, quite handily keeping up with me, a grown man. Right as I came out of the south exit, she grabbed me by the arm.
“I don’t have any money!” I blurted.
Still clutching me tight, the girl practically screamed, “Drinks! Would you have a cup of coffee or something with me?”
“What?” Was I being hit on? Me? A grown man? Unattractive and generally unappealing men got all the chicks in light novels, but this was reality. Even if it didn’t really feel like it. “No thanks, I’m good on hydration! Let go, please!”
I started to run, but damn, this girl could tug.
“Just one cup! No funny business! I swear!”
Was this what all those rom-com protagonists had to deal with all the time? I had a newfound respect for those brave men.
With no other recourse, I finally surrendered to my accoster. Off I went. To my very own isekai.
***
I took the mystery Tsuwabuki girl to a coffee shop at South Side Station Square. Why there specifically? Because it neighbored a police box.
I had the daily blend, peering over the rim at the girl as I sipped. She wasn’t one for eye contact, so it was hard to see her face very well, but I was confident I didn’t know her. She had a girlish complexion and a slender build, the athletic type. Hers was a layered drink, one half strawberry, one half yogurt. She took short, modest sips. Awfully cute for a thug.
“So, uh, have we met somewhere?” I asked.
Thug girl jolted. “S-so what’s your type, Nukumizu-kun?!”
Talk about a non sequitur. Also, she knew my name? How was she just getting creepier by the second? Needless to say, I kept my mouth shut.
The girl finally looked up. Tears clung to the edges of her big, round eyes. Her lips trembled faintly. “I, um, want to know. Your type, that is.”
Persistent. Not a chance that was the personal information she was actually interested in siphoning from me.
“If you know my name, I’m going to assume you went looking for me for a reason,” I said. “What is it? Or did someone put you up to this?”
So help me, if this was bullying, I was not above taking her over to the police next door. If all this was some prank, she could tell it to the judge. Handy, those cops.
The girl was frozen for a long time before whipping around. “Ugh, I told you guys! I’m awful at flirting!”
That was supposed to be flirting? Who was “you guys”? What was happening right now?
All of a sudden, about a dozen of our fellow patrons stood around us.
“You’ve got this, Captain!” one cried.
“One more push!” cheered another.
“You’re so close!”
I was stunned. What? Who? Why?
The girl they called Captain scratched her face shyly. “Sorry, Nukumizu-kun. I just couldn’t shake ’em.”
“And who am I speaking with?”
“Right, you probably don’t recognize me like this.” She pulled her hair back, tied it in a ponytail, and pinned her bangs up. She was like a brand-new girl. Bright. Energetic. Her whole vibe changed. “This should jog your memory. Remember me?”
I didn’t.
Ponytail girl seemed to notice, and she grinned wearily. “We met at the club president meeting. I’m Kurata. From the track team.”
Finally, it hit me. The second-year. Captain of the girls’ track team. We’d actually spoken on a few occasions.
“Right, of course. It’s just been a while,” I said. “And your…friends?”
Said friends pulled their phones out all at once and pointed them at us.
“They’re my clubmates,” Kurata said. “They’re here to catch you cheating.”
“Cheating? Cheating on who?”
The track girls met eyes with each other, faced me, and lowered their heads. In a great, sonorous roar that rumbled the walls, they shouted in unison, “Please break up with Lemon!”
And there I was. Sitting in a coffee shop. Girls bowing to me. At a busy train station. Right next to the cops.
“Everyone stop!” I sputtered. “Stop bowing! How am I supposed to break up with her when we’re not even dating in the first place?!”
The girls slowly stood up straight again. Were we on the same page finally? I certainly hoped so.
But then they started whispering.
“He doesn’t even take her seriously.”
“Wow, that’s scummy.”
“Reminds me of Satoko’s ex.”
“Actually, we’re still together.”
Oh god. Oh god, not more baseless rumors. Also, Satoko, girl, that guy sounded like bad news.
I searched my accusers for literally any sign of a potential sympathizer. Ultimately, my eyes landed on Captain Kurata’s. “Is it true?” she asked. “Is she just a fling to you?”
“N-no! I mean, we’re not even like that! At all! We’re just friends!”
Silence. Lightning crackled in the void, but seconds before a storm could break out, the captain quelled the palpable tension with a single raised hand. “You’re telling the truth?”
Hell, we hadn’t even held—okay, we’d held hands before, but we really weren’t like that. I looked Captain Kurata dead in the eye and nodded with all the stoically sincerity I could muster.
She nodded back. “Everyone, take your seats. You’re disturbing the clientele.”
Reluctantly, they obeyed, returning to their cutesy drinks.
The captain finished a quiet sip, then continued, “If Lemon plays her cards right, she could make it to this year’s Inter-High. Her college career could be at stake. We all want the best for her.” She looked around at the others when she said that. “We didn’t say anything when she decided to join the lit club. It’s what she wanted. But if you’re going to steal her away entirely, that’s another story.”
“What? We’re not trying to—”
Kurata shook her head, interrupting me. “We allow our members to remove themselves and practice privately upon request. We got one from Lemon yesterday. Which is a funny coincidence,” she smirked, a dab of strawberry stuck to the edge of her lips, “considering I heard you and her shared a little moment together in 1-C on that very same evening. How about that?”
That incident had spread. I actually recognized some of the faces around us from class now. No talking my way out of this one. But could I just spill all the sensitive details in public like this?
I downed the last of my lukewarm coffee, then placed the cup back on its saucer. “Would it be possible to talk in private?”
“In private?” The captain blinked.
“I’d rather keep this between us. And I’d like to go somewhere quiet.”
“I-I guess if it’s quick.” Her eyes flitted a few random directions before she fumbled for her phone. “There’s a place in Kalmia that has good matcha, and karaoke’s not far from that. D-do you like movies? There’s this thing called the Slowtown Cinema Festival this weekend if you’re interested.”
She lost me. One of her clubmates snuck up behind her as she poked at her phone, nudging her shoulder to get her attention. “Kura-chan. He means to talk business, I think.”
“What?” Kura-chan’s jaw dropped. She looked to the others, who avoided her gaze. Awkward.
“Right, er, so can we talk?” I asked.
“O-o-of course! Sure can! Let’s go for a walk!” The crimson in her cheeks and the speed of her steps were surely to do with her enthusiasm for cardio and nothing else.
I returned my cup at the counter, then lightly bowed to the rest of the track team before following. Awkward.
***
There was nowhere around Toyohashi Station more clandestine than the west exit, commonly known as West Station. The only real traffic that ran through this area were the shuttles. Otherwise, it was a nice, quiet retreat from the drone of crowds.
We said nothing on the way there, and still nothing as we exited the station, turned right, and kept walking parallel with the tracks. A small cluster of izakaya not far from us were starting to stir, their day just beginning.
“Sorry for dragging you away, by the way,” I said.
“It’s fine. Sorry for tricking you and, well, being weird.” Wasn’t gonna deny that. She scratched her nose awkwardly. “I thought Lemon went and found herself a man, and that might make her quit the team.”
“You thought I was her ‘man’?”
She nodded with some difficulty. “You came to see her during the festival.”
Tsuwabuki Fest. I recalled one of her old junior high friends showing up at one point. I also recalled the trauma Yakishio subsequently inflicted on him.
“I mean, I did,” I said.
“She’s a popular girl. I know how she can be, but she’s self-aware enough to be careful about how she interacts with boys.” Being popular sounded like a pain. “And, well, she treats you differently. It’s hard not to notice.”
That sounded to me like she just didn’t consider me on the same level as those other boys. There had to be more to this.
“It’s not like the track team bans dating, does it? Is it really that big of a deal?”
“It is when it’s Lemon. She’s the type to get totally obsessed.”
“Is she? I…”
I considered it. I remembered how she was about Ayano, and they hadn’t even dated. If they’d been an actual thing?
“Yeah, I can see that,” I admitted. “That one’s got questionable taste in men.”
“See why I was worried?” Kurata-san gave me a look.
“So you were trying to tempt me into cheating so you could show her and break us up? Am I following?”
“Basically. It was a team effort, really. None of us want to see her ruin her future over some scumbag.” She flashed me a wide, toothy grin. Something about it told me I could trust her.
Kurata-san started walking ahead. I called out to her, “She asked me something the other day. Invited me to join the ‘go-home club.’”
She glanced at me over her shoulder, still walking. “Invited? Like you’d quit together? Lit club too?” I nodded, and she cackled. “Yeah, that sounds like her. She wouldn’t just quit track. Can’t play favorites. Guess you were just a casualty after all, huh?” She smiled again. “I really admire her, y’know. Back when she first joined, I was a sprinter too. We ran together.”
“Not anymore?”
“I was never that good at it, and after Lemon showed up, I got bumped off the relay team. So I switched to middle-distance.” I started to say something, but went quiet when she sent a glance my way. “They wanted me to go captain nice and early, so that’s what I did. What captain can’t even compete, though, am I right?”
I didn’t comfort her. Gave her no words of encouragement. She didn’t want them. Somehow, I knew that it would only hurt her pride. Her dignity. And she cherished those.
We came to the end of the road. We stopped walking.
“Sometimes I wonder if she holds herself responsible for me switching,” Kurata muttered. Before I could reply, she spun on her heels back around. “I’mma head back. Regroup with the others.”
“Sure. And thanks, by the way. For looking out for her.”
“Back at you. I’ll keep my eye on her. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“Senpai!” I shouted before she could get far. She looked back at me, confused. “Forget the team for a minute. Speaking totally personally. Do you still want her back?”
Kurata-san opened her eyes wide. Her lips parted, then she shut them again. Then she smiled. The brightest smile I’d seen her make all day. “No offense, Romeo, but I’m her number one fan.” And then she ran.
I thought about the way Yakishio’s smile made me feel. She pretty much always seemed to have one on. But that was the part that scared me. She wasn’t really as sturdy as she liked to act. Someone had to be there to spot the cracks before they turned to fissures. Someone had to be there.
My train of thought ended with the screech of a bike’s tires. Someone had braked a little too late, because then something slammed into me.
“Y-you’re standing in the m-middle of the road.”
“Was that seriously necessary?” I growled at Komari.
She glared up at me through a curtain of bangs. “Y-you skipped club. What are you d-doing here?”
Dealing with crazies. What of it?
Adult that I was, I kept my true feelings to myself and merely shrugged. “I was looking for Yakishio. No dice, though.”
Komari slid off her bike and eyed the direction Kurata-san had vanished in. “Wh-who was she?”
“Kurata-san? She’s a second-year. Captain of the girls’ track team.”
“T-track team? Oh. Right. Y-Yakishio.”
“Word is she’s on hiatus. We were just touching base.”
I didn’t mention the part where she’d tried to frame me. I could do without more misunderstandings.
Komari started to push her bike, then frowned. “Huh?”
“What?”
“Th-the chain came loose.”
Gosh, how had that happened? Could it have had anything to do with her crashing into me? God, karma was sweet, but I couldn’t just leave her to drown, so I moved the bike to the side of the road, spun the pedals, and ascertained the issue for myself.
“That chain sure is loose.”
“I-I just said that.”
And it was important to remember our mistakes, lest we repeat them. Next order of business: how to fix it. I squatted down and got to researching on my phone.
Komari squatted with me. “C-can you fix it?”
“Help me look stuff up, would you?”
“S-sure.” She started poking around, and it didn’t take long for her to come up with results. “Got a v-video.”
“Nice.”
Her hair tuft brushed my cheek. It tickled.
“A-are you coming to club tomorrow?” Komari asked while I tinkered.
“I’d like to. It’s just Yakishio.”
“Sh-she’s important, but so is the club.” True. Kinda hard to think about that while repairing her bike, though. “G-graduation is this week. O-our senpai won’t be in uniform…for much longer.”
It was March. The end of the school year, and of our time with our senpai, was fast approaching.
“You’re right. Sorry,” I said. “I’ll be there tomorrow.” But Komari still looked uneasy. “What is it?”
“Th-the journal.”
“Right, we’re making one for graduation. I’ve finished my draft.”
This edition was going to be a surprise for our senpai. We were gonna give it to them on the day of the ceremony, and for once, I’d finished my part early. I was invincible.
“We can start printing whenever. Tomorrow? Right now? Just say the word,” I blustered.
“L-let’s push it back.”
“Need more time? I understand.”
“No, I-I finished too, it’s just…” She hesitated before continuing. “I want Y-Yakishio to be included.”
“Oh. Right. Sure.” Out of all the first-years in the lit club, it was Yakishio who Komari bonded with first. This rocky situation was probably hard on her. “Tamaki-senpai’s supposed to hear back about his exam next week actually. Should we wait till after that?”
“Y-yeah. It’s…his turn next.” Her voice got quieter with each word.
Tamaki-senpai had made a major switch to sciences after a high school career of arts. His prospects were, put plainly, not very great. According to his own self-grading, he’d made barely above passing on the first phase, and the second was supposed to be even harder. Komari had only gotten more nervous following Tsukinoki-senpai’s good news.
“By the way, what were you doing this far from the main road?” I asked, desperate to escape the awkward tension.
Komari’s posture suddenly straightened. “I-I’ve been visiting shrines lately. For, um, good luck. With exams. I-I read online that praying to Ojizo-sama is good for that.”
“There are Jizo statues around here?”
“I’ve b-been looking. Ran out of places, so I-I’m trying the station.”
Thus the random jump scare. Speaking of obsessed.
“I’ll keep my eye out,” I said.
“Th-thanks.”
I hooked up the chain according to the video, then turned the pedals backwards. The chain clicked into place.
“Good as new.”
“Wh-whoa.”
Total time: ten minutes. Thank you, tutorial videos.
“Still looks a little loose, so I’d take it to a shop just to be safe.”
“O-okay.”
I stood and patted my pockets, but Komari was faster. She held out her handkerchief to me.
“There’s oil all over my hands,” I said. “I’ll use my own.”
“I-it’s fine. Also, your…finger’s bleeding.”
Was it? Huh. It was. Red beads oozed from my right pointer finger. Must’ve cut it without realizing. Komari produced a band-aid from her bag, then quickly applied it after dabbing the cut with her handkerchief.
“W-wash it when you get home. Then r-replace the bandage.”
“Sorry. Your handkerchief’s all stained now.”
“St-stop worrying,” Komari said curtly. She held on to my hand and fell quiet.
“Komari?”
“Y-you’re always worrying. About everyone.” Her dried lips opened and closed wordlessly several times. “Let me…w-worry about you.”
Quiet again.
“Okay. Sure.”
A subtle nod, then she let go. Without another word, she got on her bike and rode off. I felt the band-aid on my finger as she did.
Still her fault.
Literature Club Activity Report, Special Issue: Komari Chika—A Certain Fascinating Woman
The Falia Royal Academy of the Arcane was holding a graduation party. A grand ball, making use of a magnificent hall fit for even the most discerning noble.
Dazai occupied a lone corner of the ballroom, donned in his trademark Eastern robes, lazily swirling the liquid in his glass. “Un, deux, trois, ladies. Un, deux, trois.”
In a fit of displeasure, the man imbibed the ichor in its entirety. Melodies flowed in 3/4 time. A waltz. They had these in his past life, and it dredged up unsavory memories. He found himself eyeing the shadowy corners of the room, half expecting a smarmy moneylender to emerge and tell him this was all just a dream.
Dazai helped himself to yet more alcohol from a passing servant. For better or worse, he was working as a teacher now for the academy and had managed to not be fired yet. Not teaching at this academy, that was, but the Zavit Royal Academy for Magic. He and his comrade, Mishima, were only gracing this institution with their presences as glorified bag-holders.
Graduation. Ironic that he should be present at such an event as an expellee of Tokyo Imperial University. And that wasn’t the only thing plaguing his cognitive dissonance. He had come to this world for no other reason than to find someone he had lost, and now he was a government dog, scrounging for scraps just like when he used to hawk his writing just to eke out a living. He reached for another glass.
The music stopped. The men and women dancing in the middle of the room scattered like flower petals on the wind.
Dazai’s eyes went to the man in the military uniform among them. Mishima quitted the dance floor, one arm linked with a comely lady in a ballgown. Noticing his companion’s scowl, Mishima bade farewell to the lady and trotted to Dazai’s side.
“Never took you for a dancer,” the alcohol-ridden man said.
“Merely muscle memory. Mrs. Kunieda taught me long ago. You’re free to join me if you like.” Mishima flashed a dashing grin.
Dazai thrust his glass out accusingly. “And deprive this fine wine of a partner? Nonsense. Have you sampled it yet?”
“Our conduct reflects on the headmaster, whom I shouldn’t need to remind you is the reason we’re here today.”
“Well, our esteemed employer is nowhere to be seen. If we were to indulge in debauchery, and no one were there to witness it, would it still be a sin?”
Resigned, Mishima took the glass from him, held it up to the light, swirled it gently, and then took a sip. “Evocative of a Burgundy. Our hosts spoil us.”
“How pretentiously put. I’m more of an Akadama man, myself.” Dazai snatched the glass back.
“Have I touched a nerve? As if your editors never treated you to fine, French cuisine.”
“You would be surprised at just how vast a gap there is between a dropout and a graduate. Not least of all in terms of alcohol quality.”
Dazai had every intention of expounding upon his grievances, but then a man stole all the eyes and ears of the hall.
“Sylvia Luxéd, I hereby annul our engagement!”
The otherworldly men turned toward the voice. At the center of the hall stood a man with curled, blond hair, his handsome features evident even from afar, and his dashing clothing telling of his high status. Opposite him was a fine specimen of a woman in a red dress, honey-colored locks framing a willful and strong expression.
A lover’s spat. The man had declared the end to an engagement. Dazai grabbed Mishima by the arm and pulled him into the crowd. “I smell blood. This I have to see.”
“Your taste in entertainment is garish, Dazai-san. Would you wait?”
The blood, as it happened, was still being shed. The girl called Sylvia crossed her arms expectantly then spat, “And?”
The young man recoiled. “And…we’re not to be wed.”
“Your Highness, Prince Gustar, there is a process to these things. What of my crimes against Lady Anne? Where is your detailed list of my wrongdoings?”
“I, er, believe it was left at your estate.”
Sylvia pressed her palm against her forehead and heaved a great sigh. “And how many times did I remind you not to forget it? Oh, for the love of… Lady Anne!”
“Y-yes?!” the black-haired girl hiding behind Gustar sputtered. She was ostensibly a plain girl, but not without features that betrayed her potential beauty.
“There’s nothing for it but to hear it all from your lips. Now accuse me! Tell the world my transgressions!”
“B-but, Lady Sylvia, you’ve been very good to me. I could never.”
“Now hold on just a minute.” Sylvia fiercely furrowed her brow. “At camp, I ripped your dress. That was quite wicked if you ask me.”
Anne shook her adorable little head. “You were rescuing me from a bee that had gotten trapped in my skirt.”
“According to a spin-off, dang it! What about, er, the horses! Yes, the horses! Do you not remember when I made an attempt on your life by agitating your steed during the horse riding event?!”
“Th-that was because a bee happened to fly into the poor thing’s ear.”
“Based on that stupid anthology! It’s not canon! It’s not canon, I tell you! Any real fan knows that bee nonsense is absurd!”
Dazai’s interest was quickly waning. “Mishima-kun. Can you make any sense of them?”
“Afraid not. But that girl. What if…?”
“Prince Gustar!” Sylvia cried. “For all your bluster, do you mean to tell me you’ve uncovered nothing about me? You never once beseeched His Majesty to investigate my actions? Are you breaking up with me for fun?! Are you trying to make yourself the target of a revenge fantasy?!”
“S-Sylvia, I’m trying to understand, I really am, but the things you’re saying make absolutely no sense,” the prince whimpered.
Sylvia grabbed him by the arm. “I’ll show you how you annul an engagement! Lady Anne! With me!”
“Yes, Lady Sylvia!” the other girl dutifully replied. “Anything, Lady Sylvia!”
The three quickly vanished from the center of attention and then the hall entirely. A heavy silence remained in their wake.
“That trio warrants… Dazai-san?”
Dazai stared out at the invisible air left behind by those three strangers. His eyes, dazed and suggestive of his state of sobriety. Only three words left his lips. “Fascinating woman, that.”
Mishima shrugged, uninterested. “Caught your eye, has she?”
“Tickled your jealous bone?” The music crept back up. Dazai inhaled the remainder of his wine and placed the empty glass on a nearby servant’s tray. “I’m inspired, friend. I’m annulling this wretched self of mine.”
“In what sense?”
Dazai shrugged his slender shoulders at his oh-so-mistrustful companion. “No more teaching for me. I’m going on a trip. Give my best to the headmaster.”
“Not without me you aren’t.”
Dazai shook his head. “Keep doing what you’re doing, friend.” He lowered his voice. “I’ve something special to ask of you, as it happens.”
Mishima nodded somberly. “I’ll hear you.”
“My pockets are decidedly empty. Spare change for traveling expenses?”
Mishima waited several beats before sighing. “You love to test my patience, don’t you?”
“Which is why I’ll return as soon as my business is finished. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, don’t you know.”
“Have you considered what might happen if all this waiting makes it go yonder?”
Dazai sneered, paying little heed to Mishima’s protests. “Making others wait is my specialty, you see.”
***
That night, I was in my room, scribbling down notes at my desk. Only a month left in the school year, and I had to seriously get off my butt and put together some semblance of a plan to recruit new members to the lit club. Posters. Flyers. Journals. There was a ton to consider, not least of all the presentation we had to give at orientation for the first-years.
When I pictured Komari and I up on the gymnasium stage, trying to put our best foot forward in front of all those new students and potential recruits, only disaster came to mind. Yanami would be good for our image, but then again, most anyone with actual, legitimate interest in a literature club were probably the reserved type. Maybe making the bubbly, pretty girl our face was a bad idea. Unless we put a bag over her head.
“Hm. Could work.” I wrote that down.
I remembered the band-aid on my finger. Komari had told me to replace it, but, well, I hadn’t. I paused for a moment to stare at it.
“I think you should probably take care of that, Oniisama.”
I turned around. Kaju was sitting on my bed, knitting something. “I’ll swap it out after my bath. Gotta ask, how long have you been there?”
“A while. Did you know that knitting is hard, Oniisama?” Kaju wrestled with the needle, an adorably stubborn look on her face. A pouch-shaped jumble of threads hung from her hands.
“Gonna be summer by the time you’re done with whatever that is,” I pointed out.
“You know what they say. First comes love. I’m getting started early.” She beamed at me.
First comes love? Then what? Marriage? Yeah, right, then a baby in a baby…carriage?
I shot to my feet, kicking my chair backward. “Kaju, are you…?!”
She just kept smiling. “Of course not. We’re talking about you, Oniisama.”
Oh. Just me. Phew. I picked my chair back up. “So. Literally how?”
Kaju stopped knitting for a moment to meet my eyes. “It’s no use hiding it. You and Yakishio-san have been joined, haven’t you?”
“No. No, we have not.” The words that came out of this girl’s mouth.
With dreamy eyes, Kaju looked up and off into the distance. “I saw it. In the briny breeze that caressed my skin as her hand caressed yours, I saw it. Why, it was biblical, the scene I witnessed. So holy was it that mine eyes did shed tears at the sight!”
In summary: Kaju had seen us. And now she was the victim of a misunderstanding. Couldn’t exactly blame her.
“I nearly fell,” I explained. “She was just helping me.”
“What exactly did you gain from her intertwining fingers with her?”
Okay, eagle eyes.
“Look, you just had to be there.”
“Precisely. And it’s my job as your loyal and devoted sister to be ready for any crime of passion I happen to not be there for.” She resumed knitting.
“What are you making anyway?”
“Socks. I’m nearly done with the first.”
“Those are, um, awfully tiny socks.”
She simply smiled and knitted. Smiled and knitted. “I’m debating nicknames. Aunt Kaju? A sisterly Kaju-nee? Maybe just Kaju-chan. It has a nice, casual ring to it that I like. It’s never too early to think of these things, you know.”
I had a kid? Since when? Did Nukumizus reproduce asexually or something and I just missed the memo? Kaju was deep into one of her delusions, and I wasn’t confident I could fish her out this time.
“Were you even listening to me?” I said. “Yakishio and I aren’t even—”
“What about Mama Kaju?! Well gosh, I’d basically be the mother at that point!” Nothing basic about that leap in logic. “At that point, why not take it a step further?! Heck, we might as well get married!”
“Pretty big step there, no?”
“No.”
Welp. Not much room for argument there.
Kaju rested her back against mine, started humming, and went on with her business. I was too exhausted to resume mine. And now my back was warm.
***
Two days later it was Thursday, the day before the graduation ceremony. I’d just finished my traditional lunch break tap water tour and was debating getting some coffee from the vending machine, when a voice stopped me just as I took my wallet out.
“Alone today?” the voice said.
“Uh, I guess?”
It was Basori Tiara, from the student council. She parted ways with the friend she’d been with and then came up next to me.
Reading the room, I stepped back from the machine. “Still deciding. You go ahead.”
“I’m not thirsty.”
Then what was she here for? I started to buy my drink so I could hurry up and get lost but noticed her nonchalantly (and not at all subtly) messing with her phone.
“I thought you used a brick,” I said.
“I just recently switched to a smartphone, actually. It became too inconvenient being the only one in the student council without one.” Tiara-san tapped away at her new toy, all puffed up. “I have LINE now too. Do you have an account?”
“Of course. It’s kinda the best way to stay in touch about club stuff.”
“It is, isn’t it?! Everyone should use LINE as far as I’m concerned!”
Tiara-san lit up like a firework. You’d think it was the coolest thing ever, the way she was flaunting the fancy rectangle in her hand.
“Uh, right.”
She got real quiet all of a sudden. “R-right.”
Talk about mood swings.
She kept fidgeting with the thing. “Do you, um, have a LINE?” she murmured.
Was I in a time loop? So help me, if I was in a time loop…
“Didn’t you just ask me that?”
“Sorry. I’m forgetful lately.”
“You should probably see a doctor about that.”
Tiara-san cleared her throat, finally correcting her volume. “The student council went to karaoke recently. I took a video. Want to see?”
God, people with new tech. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a choice in the matter, because she shoved the phone into my hands. So I surrendered and watched. It was a recording of the student council president, mic gripped tightly in both hands, singing some old-sounding song.
“I feel like I recognize this.”
“It’s ‘Tentomushi no Samba.’ The president is singing it at a family reunion, so we went out to practice.”
Next up, she and Sakurai-kun sang a duet. Sounded like this one was “Ginza no Koi no Monogatari” of all things. An ancient love song.
“She’s always so dignified in front of people,” Tiara-san gushed. “Look at her stance. Doesn’t she just ooze grace?”
The president certainly had presence. She was like a sculpture. No doubt the exact sort of beauty people meant by the word “handsome.” Even if her taste in music was as old as a Michelangelo original.
“She does have pretty good posture,” I said. “She do any sports?”
“Track in junior high. Her core must be very sturdy.”
Track again. That was coming up a lot lately. Not quite as much as the amount of photos Tiara-san had taken of the president, though. Yikes, you’d think she was going for stop-motion. For what purpose had the shot of her pouring a cup of Calpis at the drink bar been snapped?
I stopped swiping when Shikiya-san appeared all of a sudden. She was sitting on the couch in the booth, legs crossed, a stick of Pocky held between her lips. She was leaned forward, offering the other end to the person behind the camera. And there was a lot of chest. An awful lot. A worrying amount. So much that it warranted investigation. How did you brighten photos again?
“Like that one, do you?” Tiara-san accused.
“No idea what you’re talking about.”
Forgot I had an audience.
I swiped to the next photo, but this one wasn’t from karaoke. It looked like a classroom here at Tsuwabuki. And the subject looked an awful lot like me.
“Hey, isn’t that—”
Before I could say anything more, Tiara-san snatched the phone out of my hands, whirled around, and slam-dunked it into the garbage can next to the vending machine.
“The hell was that for?!” I blurted.
“N-no reason! Just felt like it!”
Mood swings: the sequel.
“Did I swipe too far or something?”
“I-it wasn’t me, okay?! It was Shikiya-senpai! She did it!”
“Oh, at the open house? She was taking photos during that.”
Tiara-san suddenly stopped flailing. Face was still red, though.
“That’s what that was from, isn’t it?” I asked again.
“Yup. Uh-huh.”
And back to quiet.
“All right, well, make sure your phone’s okay.”
“It’s fine. Anyway, so tomorrow’s the graduation ceremony.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Smartphones were pretty fragile. Did she know that? Did she really?
“Well, I was going through last year’s documents, just for posterity’s sake, what with the third-years leaving soon,” she went on coyly. “Tsukinoki-san’s work was actually very well done.”
“Huh. That’s a first.”
“I thought so too. Everything was accurate, and she was very thorough about keeping up with paperwork.”
For about half of the previous school year, before my time, Tsukinoki-senpai had been vice student council president. That was surprising enough without the reveal that she’d actually done her job well.
Tiara-san shrugged. “Doesn’t change the fact that she’s a problem individual now. It balances out.”
“See, though? There are good things about her.”
She could only grin. “Yes, yes, you’re right. I’ve come around to her a little more recently.”
Tiara-san and Tsukinoki-senpai had found a lot of common ground, it seemed, following the BL incident last year. What exactly that ground was, I didn’t care to pry into.
“That’s good to hear. Especially since she’s graduating tomorrow.”
“It’s a shame in a certain sense, but also a relief in another.” She held her hand up to her mouth and stifled a laugh. I indulged in a snicker myself.
Suddenly, there was a lot of clanking. A janitor had come and was emptying the vending machine garbage can.
“Uh, Tiara-san? Your phone?”
“It’s fine. And do not call me that.” She straightened her back, refusing to budge from where she was. “I just wanted you to know that things are okay. In case you had any lingering concerns regarding your clubmate and I.”
That was why she’d come to talk to me. “Appreciate that you went to the trouble.”
“And another thing. About the picture.”
“The one of me?”
“I-it’s not what you think! I may be a NukuKo believer, but I know how to separate fiction from reality. I have a very firm line.”
Did I want to know?
“‘NukuKo’?”
“I-I apologize if that’s not your preference! Don’t worry, I’m very open-minded! I can roll with pretty much whatever!”
Worry was one of many emotions she was making me feel. She needed to stop talking thirty seconds ago.
The janitor, finished emptying the garbage, started to leave with a bag full of cans.
“I think your phone’s in there. Sure you don’t need that back?”
“Huh?” Tiara-san followed my gaze and let out a yip. “E-excuse me! Excuse me, don’t throw that out yet!” she sputtered, giving chase.
Against my better judgment, I went back to the rambling from earlier. Nuku(M!)Ko. I was the top, huh? Pardon. Left. Left when you’re in public.
At least I wasn’t right.
***
The morning of the graduation ceremony was a weird one. The sky was clear. The tulip trees at the east gate were still barren. Its leaves still littered the ground. But winter was on its way out, and I could feel hints of spring on the breeze.
Across the street, a bike stopped next to me while I waited for the cross signal to change.
“Since when do you come to school this early?” Yanami asked as she dismounted.
I raised my hand in greeting. “Feeling antsy. Not that we’re the ones graduating.”
“I feel ya. Everyone’s a little sentimental on days like today.” She brushed her hair back. “Today’s our last day with ’em, huh?”
“Sure is. We’re meeting in the club room later. Think you’ll make it?”
“I’ll be there after I say bye to some senpai I’m friends with. Guess what, though?” She lowered her voice, looked left and right. “The ex-captain of the basketball team asked to see me before he leaves. God, he wants me so bad. How do you turn someone like that down?” She twirled her hair around her finger with a dumb grin on her face.
“Okay. Anyway, since we’ve only got a half day, what do you think about treating them to lunch?”
“What the hell, dude?! How are you not interested in this tea?!”
I was very on top of my hydration. Frankly, I cared so little that I couldn’t even remember what it was about.
“So, what, you and the basketball captain are having a one-on-one or something?”
“I’ll one-on-one you with these fists! And I did turn him down—not like you even care!”
Then what was there to talk about?
“I’m sorry, okay? I’m just thinking about graduation.”
“Sure, whatever. It’s green.”
We started to cross. Someone was getting an early start on being annoying.
“I never said I wasn’t interested. Honestly, I just wasn’t listening,” I said. “I mean, uh, it was the sun. Boy is it sunny today or what? It’s like, wow, turn down the lights please?”
Yanami sighed. She’d given up on me. “All right, I get it. It’s whatever. Can’t blame you for feeling emotional today of all days.”
Uh, sure. Whatever she said.
She sneered at me. “Gonna cry?”
“When have you ever seen me cry?”
“Hey, you never know. Might sneak up on you. Don’t you worry. I’ll be there when you need a shoulder.”
“I’ll take a tissue, thanks.”
Yanami split off to park her bike, and I made my way to the shoe lockers. I took some time to admire the tulip trees on the way. To wonder about two years from now, when it would be my turn to graduate. Would I cry then?
***
The ceremony was going smoothly. The principal had just finished his address, and it was time to award diplomas. It wouldn’t be any big thing where everyone came up one by one, though. Only class representatives, while everyone else just had to stand and respond once called on.
Names were announced. People stood and responded. Every second ticking down toward the end of their high school careers. In between the names, sniffles filled the otherwise reverential silence, from the staying students just as well from the graduating ones.
“Yanami-chan, you okay?” I heard someone whisper.
“Here, have a tissue.”
“Girl, don’t eat it.”
Yanami was having a time.
“Oh god, it snuck right up on me.” She trumpeted her nose into the tissue. Her being her usual Yanami self honestly helped me maintain my own composure.
Before long, we’d made it to the latter half of class E. The lit club’s resident senpai were class F. These final few names were just filler. Meaningless strangers who I had nothing to do—hold the phone, did I just hear a “Palulu”? Did that have kanji? She sounded cute. It was a crying shame I’d missed her when she stood.
Thinking about the Yodobashi Palulu that got away killed enough time for them to start calling class F names. But it was like a million more agonizing seconds until they finally announced one I recognized.
Tamaki Shintarou.
He silently stood, voiced his presence, and then sat back down. Even as tall as he was, I still quickly lost him in the crowd. As I craned my neck, searching for him again, another name came.
Tsukinoki Koto.
The same song and dance. I saw those pigtails bounce up, she gave a hearty, “Present!” then seated herself again. Then more names.
That was it. It was all over. There was still plenty of ceremony to go, but for them, that was it. Their very final act as high school students. Everything after this was just the epilogue.
The ceremony went on, indifferent to the confusing emotions swirling inside me. Before I knew it, it was time for the student body representative’s commencement address, from none other than Houkobaru Hibari. Through her powerful voice, the surreal atmosphere permeating the gym seemed to solidify into reality again.
Kids cried at my junior high graduation last year. I remembered thinking they were stupid. Now, not so much. Now, I felt a little of what they must have felt. The loneliness. The longing for just one more day.
Good lord, Yanami was crying her eyes out. Me, I hid my melancholy behind a lopsided smile and said a silent congratulations. Our senpai were moving on.
***
We were all feeling emotions, but the ceremony stopped for nothing until it was well and truly over. Students filed out of the gym, we went back to our classrooms, and then it was time for homeroom. No classes today. We’d be free to go after that.
Amanatsu-sensei deigned to keep her head on straight, thank god. “Now that was a graduation ceremony. The student council president said some beautiful things, and her predecessor too. Wish I could pretend to give a—er, speech. Give a speech from the heart like that. There were a lot of…words in it.”
So close.
She continued, “Fun fact: Yours truly got asked for her number five whole times when she graduated. That’s right. Know what that means? I’m in demand. Wonder how Kousaka’s doing these days.” Her expression turned placid, her mind departing for timelines unknown. It quickly darkened though. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait. I remember now. They all mentioned Konuki-chan when they were hitting on me. Was I bait? Were they using me to get to her?” The truth sent her crumbling onto her podium. “Welp, that explains why everyone ghosted me when I asked them out without her.”
Class 1-C gave a moment of silence for the fallen. While we wallowed in the bitter bog of memories turned sour, chattering could be heard coming from the next class over. No doubt their homeroom had just ended.
Amanatsu-sensei’s hand floated up, and she waved it limply, but her face remained firmly planted against the podium. “Dismissed. Go see your friends and lament the merciless march of time or whatever. I don’t care. Just don’t let me catch any of you twerps on the sweet side of bittersweet, got that?”
Everyone got up. No one questioned it. We knew the drill by now. I caught Yakishio just as she was slipping out of the classroom but couldn’t decide whether to give chase or not.
Yanami, fresh out of an emotional one-eighty, came up to me and said, “Gonna go say bye to some friends at the east gate. Meet you at the club room.”
“Gotcha.”
Taking pictures by the tulip trees was apparently a graduation tradition. The only two senpai I cared to see were probably over there right about now. Might’ve been worth a look. Once Yanami and her friends were out of sight, I got out of my seat.
Weaving in and out through the lazy crowds in the hallway, I eventually found myself with company. Hakamada Sousuke. Yanami’s childhood friend and Himemiya Karen’s boyfriend.
“Headin’ out to the tulip trees too?” he asked.
“Just to see how it looks, I guess. Might make good reference for writing.”
“Lit clubbers gonna lit club. What about Anna? She writing much?”
“She is actually, yeah. Hasn’t she shown you any of her work?”
Hakamada smiled and shrugged. “Doesn’t want either of our parents finding out. She thinks I’ll leak it.”
Huh. I could respect that. Fics were not to be shared with family. Never read them. Especially not your sister’s.
Suddenly, a gaggle of girls came running by with scissors clicking in their hands.
“Someone hasn’t heard the old adage,” I said.
“What, them? You know that whole tradition where graduates give their second blazer button to their sweetheart? That’s what that’s about.”
“So, what, whoever pokes out the others’ eyes out first gets the button?” That sounded like something straight out of a light novel.
Hakamada laughed. “They’re sewn tight. You’ve gotta cut it off with scissors first.”
That made sense. I’d always wondered how they got those buttons off. And it’d be pretty lame to be carrying scissors around on the day of your graduation, thus the girls going to get them. Mystery solved.
“Betcha didn’t know there’s a whole other tradition if there’s two graduates who are already dating,” he said. “They trade. The girl gets his second button, the guy gets her second ribbon.”
“Huh. Second ribbon? What?”
“Second from the top, duh. I better get my crap together if I want Karen’s in a couple years, don’t I?”
Ribbons. Second ribbons? A tradition? Really? Was I out of touch? No. How many ribbons were normal again?
The girls with the scissors vanished. Hakamada lowered his voice. “Tell me something, Nukumizu. What’s up with you and Yakishio-san? Anna’s all worried about it.”
“Oh. That.”
So considerate, that one. Following us on our date. Interrogating me at a family diner. Then again, opposites attract. Who was I to doubt the bond between a sporty girl and her Yanami?
“Just a little trouble in paradise,” I said. “Nothing you’re not used to dating Himemiya-san, I’m sure.”
I looked down at the trees from a window. Students of every grade were swarming the entire path. Finding the two I was after would be a nightmare in that. Instead of them, I spotted a girl peering out furtively from behind a tree.
Short hair. Toned physique. Was that Yakishio?
I stopped walking. Someone was sneaking up behind her—none other than Tsukinoki-senpai.
***
For three years, she’d known these trees. Tsukinoki Koto, former student of Tsuwabuki High School’s class 3-F, gazed up at them, dodging the glare in her glasses. Fresh buds were just sprouting on their naked branches, but she wouldn’t be around to see them in their full greenery. Not this year.
It was hard to imagine where she’d be in just a few months. But at least she’d have Shintarou.
A cylindrical diploma case came down on her head. “Yo. Congrats on getting admitted,” said Terai Momo, the former captain of the girls’ track team. A smile adorned her plain, boyish features.
“Thanks. Still can’t believe I was the first one to get the good news. What about you, Momo? Got a coffin picked out yet?”
“You’re hilarious. I got into my backup, so I’m still going to Tokyo, and that’s all that matters.” Momo took a spot next to Koto to admire the trees. “Sorry our sensitive little princess gave you the run around that time.”
“I wouldn’t put that in past tense just yet. She hasn’t been coming to practice, has she?”
Momo sighed and rested her elbow on Koto’s shoulder. “It’s complicated. You can make all the promises in the world, but if the person you’re making them to doesn’t believe you, it’s all wasted breath in the end. Plus, well, what can you do?”
“Right. Today’s our last day.” Koto glanced past her friend’s sun-bleached hair, at the campus that had been forever burned into her retinas. Someday, she’d look back on it with nostalgia, and she’d wonder where the time went. But not today. Not yet. Not until she’d walked through that gate for the last time.
Koto surprised herself. She didn’t consider herself the sentimental type. And that was when she saw it—a tawny face peeking out from behind a tree.
“Sticking around, Momo?” she asked.
“For now. Gotta take a picture with the rest of the track team. Why?”
“There’s a cow I wanna milk.”
Momo made a face at that, but Koto ignored her and crept toward the tree. Her target was so focused on Momo that she didn’t seem to notice Koto’s presence until she finally spoke.
“Not gonna say hi, Yakishio-chan?”
“Tsukinoki-senpai?!” Yakishio yiped. “Uh, c-congratulations on graduating. I was just, um…”
Koto leaned her back against the tree. “If not, let’s talk.”
“But I—”
Koto bonked her with her diploma case. “We’ve never really chatted, have we? Just you and me. Indulge a senior citizen.”
“I guess,” Yakishio muttered, leaning against the tree next to Koto. “I’m never around, after all.”
“Thought you were here for Momo. Your teammates are probably waiting for you.”
“It’s just a little awkward, since I’m technically on hiatus and all.” Yakishio turned away, ashamed. “That goes for the lit club too, I guess.”
“True,” Koto replied. “Interesting pick, by the way. Nukumizu-kun, eh?”
“That’s…complicated. Not very nice of me, huh?”
“Hey, it’s not like he’s spoken for. No harm, no foul.” Yakishio raised her eyebrows at her, but Koto simply shrugged. “I’m not one to judge after the mess I left for the student council.”
“So the reason you quit…”
“Let’s chalk it up to a complicated relationship status.”
“Yikes. Catfight?” They snickered together. “It’s really not that attractive an issue for me though.”
“Issues are issues. Attractive has nothing to do with it.” Koto took out her phone, wrapped her arm around Yakishio’s shoulder, and then snapped a selfie. “What I’m trying to say is don’t sweat the small stuff. Live your life. Do what you want. Deal with the consequences.” The picture lingered on her screen. Koto, smiling. Yakishio, wide-eyed and gaping. “Step one is to quit wallowing and go see the people you know you wanna see.”
“But I ditched everyone. I even tried to get Nukkun—”
“What’re they gonna do, arrest you? Give ’em a little credit.” Koto grabbed Yakishio by the shoulders, spun her around, and gave her a push on the back. “We’re all grown-ups here. Now get going.”
“Okay!”
Yakishio ran, stopping only partway to turn around and bow in thanks. Then she ran again, and she kept running. And no one could stop her, even if they’d tried. Koto’s work here was done.
“Ball’s in your court, Nukumizu-kun,” she muttered. “Don’t choke.”
It was up to her precious underclassmen now.
***
The tulip trees weren’t any less crowded by the time I made it outside.
Extroverts. Extroverts everywhere.
The people snapping photos of each other—extroverts. The people singing the school anthem for whatever reason—extroverts. The girls crying in each other’s arms—you guessed it. The Casanovas and the lovesick swapping contact info? A curse upon them.
I had my eye out for Tsukinoki-senpai and Yakishio, but someone else found me first. “Nukumizu? Hey. Here for me?”
I turned toward the familiar voice. It was Tamaki-senpai. “Morbid curiosity, mostly.”
He raised his diploma case in greeting as he approached. He looked a little worse for wear, and those bags under his eyes were new. “Good timing. Let’s hit up the club room.”
“Done here already?”
“Already got pictures with the people I wanted to. I’ll see everyone at the reunion anyway.”
Class reunion already? They were on top of things.
“No party on graduation day?” I asked.
“Most of us are still waiting on admission results, so, y’know.” He gave a tired grin. Poor guy.
“Wait, Senpai, where’s your button?! Your blazer’s missing one!”
The second one, to be specific.
“Oh, right, yeah. Some first-year begged me to have it for some reason.” He scratched his nose. “So I just let her take it.”
“Was it, y’know, a confession?”
“No, not at all. Everyone knows I’m taken. But, hey, she said she’d settle for my button, as a keepsake or something, and I didn’t exactly have a reason to tell her no. Crazy, right?”
The look on that guy’s face. He knew what he’d done.
“You sure Tsukinoki-senpai won’t be upset? Aren’t you supposed to trade it for her ribbon?”
He froze. The look of a guilty man. “Where do they sell those things, you think?”
“I think you’re out of luck, my friend. Gonna have to suck it up and face the music.”
Here was a classic tale of hubris. A man with a girlfriend, imbibing the affections of another. Was I impartial? Absolutely not. But he deserved this.
He clapped his hands together and held them there. “I need your button, man! Please!”
Plot twist of the century? No. The writhing of a guilty man.
“Got any scissors?” I asked.
“No, but I know you’ve got a sewing kit on you. You fixed Yanami-san’s button in the club room a while back.”
We’d had a witness, evidently. After many cycles of ebb and flow, stretch and shrink, Yanami’s poor blouse hadn’t been able to take it any longer, and a button flew right off one day.
“It’s my sister’s, technically, and it’s in my bag.”
“Either way. I’m beggin’ you. Don’t want people to see, so I’ll be waiting in the courtyard,” Tamaki-senpai whispered before leaving.
Guess I had to make a detour to the classroom to grab that. I turned to do so and found Tiara-san standing behind me with a handkerchief pressed firmly against her nose.
“Basori-san? Need something?”
“N-nothing. Looking for Tsukinoki-san. To give her my regards.”
“She’s probably still at the trees,” I said. But she kept staring. “Can I help you?”
“D-don’t worry! My lips are sealed!”
And just like that she was gone. Again, leaving me with many things. Among them, worry.
I sighed and got back on my way to the classroom.
***
I was hard at work on a bench in the courtyard. Tamaki-senpai’s blazer was the same as mine but slightly bigger, which made it feel a little strange to work with.
“Sorry, by the way,” he said. He sat next to me, a can of coffee in his hands. “Not the best reunion, huh?”
“It’s definitely been a while. So results are coming out next week?”
“Yep. And if it’s a bust, I go right back in for the late-admission exams. God forbid. I’m seriously hoping all this last-minute cramming has been for nothing.” Another tired smile. “Forgot I should probably get all my personal junk out of the club room. Might need a few trips.”
“Tsukinoki-senpai’s gonna be there.”
“Maybe I’ll do spring cleaning another day then.”
Men had secrets. They came in many shapes. Sometimes immaterial. Sometimes rectangular and in magazine form. While discussing which of those latter secrets to leave behind for future generations, suddenly Tamaki-senpai turned serious.
“What?” I asked.
“Just realized what bench we’re sitting at. Remember back before Tsuwabuki Fest?”
“Oh, right. When you talked to me about making Komari president.”
He nodded and cracked open his coffee. “I wanted you to be vice president. To look after her and do the things that she can’t.”
“Yet here I am. The full-blown president.”
“It all worked out in the end, though. You’re doing all right. And I don’t just mean with Komari-chan. That goes for everything else too.”
I glanced at him. It felt like there was more to what he was saying. “Everything else?”
He glanced back, the concern plain on his expression. “I heard a bit about Yakishio-san. She’s thinking about quitting her clubs?”
It’d been a matter of time, really. The girls knew all about it, so I couldn’t be surprised that he did too.
“It didn’t sound like she was really sure herself,” I said. “She hasn’t submitted any kind of official form or anything, and she even felt like she had to invite me, so I get the feeling she’s still working things out.”
“She ‘invited’ you?” I explained to him what I explained to Yanami a few days ago. He crossed his arms. “This ‘go-home club’ sounds to me like an excuse to spend every day after school with you.”
“Yakishio never puts that much thought into the things she says. She’s probably just scared of taking the leap on her own, so she…”
I froze up. Yakishio was scared. Scared to take the leap on her own. So she dragged me down with her. It was a very Yakishio thing to do. But what if there was more to it than that? What if it went as far as being the entire reason for our date?
Yakishio wasn’t into me, and that wasn’t even me being stubbornly dense or self-deprecating. She’d loved Ayano as fiercely as the summer sun, and like the coming of autumn, those rays had softened, but that wasn’t Yakishio. She was terrible at letting things go. She couldn’t just flick a switch in her brain and go from hot to cold on a whim.
What was it for? What had she wanted? A push? Advice? Should I have talked to her more?
Should I have stopped her?
I’d missed something. It was my very first date, so my mind had been elsewhere pretty much the entire day. I had to have missed something.
“Careful, Nukumizu. Don’t overthink it.”
“Right.” I finished tying off the thread then held the blazer up. “Done. Not bad, if I say so myself.”
“That quick? You’re a lifesaver, man.” He traded me for the can of coffee. On second thought, I could’ve given him literally any button. Didn’t have to be specifically the second. “Ready? This’ll be my last time going to the club room. As a Tsuwabuki student, anyway.”
“Guess it will. Wonder if Tsukinoki-senpai’s already there.”
I stood, coffee in one hand, phone in the other. Among the typical Komari spam, ranting at me to hurry it up, was another message.
The preview displayed the entire thing: “I’d like an answer.”
It was from Yakishio.
***
The fire escape at the old annex offered the most privacy, so that was where I headed. But Yakishio was nowhere to be found. I went up to the top of the stairs, and still nothing. So I put my hands on the rail and looked out at campus from the landing. At the people coming and going, living out their young lives. Belonging.
She wanted an answer. I had one. Had had one for a while. The only question was how to tell her, and that had yet to come to me.
I took a deep breath as footsteps approached from below.
“Wait long, Nukkun?”
“Er, no. Not really.”
Yakishio came up next to me, twirling her hair. A tepid breeze passed between us, fluttering her bangs. Long, downcast eyelashes shaded two deep, brown pools that betrayed her nerves.
“Feels like a lifetime since I last was here,” she finally said, dispelling the silence. She smiled at me as I missed my cue. “Remember? It was when you were bullying Komari-chan after the presidents’ meeting. That was the last time.”
“I wasn’t bullying her, and you know it.”
We chuckled a bit.
Yakishio’s smile darkened. “Sorry, by the way. I know there’re probably other people you’d rather be seeing today.”
“I’ll live. But what about you?”
She nodded. “All good. I said what I needed to say. Thanks to Tsukinoki-senpai.”
“Tsukinoki-senpai?”
Another nod. Smaller this time. “She gave me a little push. Literally. I kinda need it sometimes. Get stuck in my head to the point that I go numb to my own feelings. And then I don’t say what needs to be said.”
“Gave you a push, huh? I see.” I had my doubts about her brand of advice, but it was a special day. I decided to trust in my senpai this once. A few quiet moments later, I continued, “Why’re you thinking about quitting?”
She waited a beat. “You know how I’ve got all these expectations riding on me, right? From the track team.”
“Right. You’re the best sprinter in school. Have been since junior high, really.”
“I think I could qualify for the Inter-High next year,” she went on. “Run the hundred-meter at nationals.”
“No kidding? That’s awesome.” Half-assed reply.
Yakishio smirked, like she thought so too. “Yeah, that’s what they call me. But I keep thinking about what comes next.”
Well, logically speaking, after nationals would come international competitions. I wasn’t following very well.
“I sorta blew my shot in junior high,” she continued in quiet bursts. “I told myself I’d have another chance in high school. Thing is, though, I can run and win and be happy, or I can run and lose and cry about it, but either way, at the end of the day, it’s all me, me, me.”
“I mean, I guess so. Track’s not a team sport.”
“Our coach might as well be my personal trainer. And like, there’s no way that doesn’t bother the others, but they won’t say anything, when honestly, I wish they would. If they acted the least bit annoyed or at least said mean things to me, maybe it wouldn’t be this complicated.” Yakishio put her elbows on the railing and looked far off into the distance. “Coach wants me in the two-hundred and doing hurdles too. But every school only has so many spots for each event. Every one I fill, that’s another person who has to sit it out.” She clasped her hands together, resting her forehead against them as if praying. “It’s all me, me, me. Everyone’s dreams and plans make way for my own. My teammates lose so I can win. And it sucks.”
Silence. I let it linger on purpose, because this mere brush with Yakishio, her truest feelings, was all I needed to understand. I didn’t have the right words to console her, so I didn’t bother searching for them.
I had to settle for my best. Trite, pitiful, and utterly ineffectual as it was. I had to try.
“I…can’t really speak much on track or how it works or anything,” I said. “But as far as non-team sports go, isn’t that just the nature of the beast? The best athletes always get the best treatment.”
“That excuse only works if you’re the best. In my case, we’d be leaving everyone else on the team by the wayside so I can lose in the prelims.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” Yakishio opened her eyes and stretched. “Keiko’s plateauing at the high jump. It’s a timing thing, I think. Misuzu struggles with corners. Nono-chan’s still scared of hurdles. They all need to change the way they practice, and if Coach were paying attention to them, they might see some real improvement.” She twirled around to face me. “It’d just be objectively better for everyone if I were out of the picture.”
And then she smiled. A bright, beautiful, blinding, terribly sad smile.
“I just wanna run,” she said. “Don’t gotta be on a team to do that. I’ve been thinking for a while that I’ve gotten too bogged down by times and improving and stuff anyway.” She spoke as if telling herself. Not me. “And, well, I don’t like half measures. If I quit track, I feel like I gotta leave the lit club too. More time to hang out with friends. Maybe start attending cram school. Just do normal high school stuff, y’know?”
Her words came with the fragile ethereality of a spilled bottle of star sand, twinkling in the soft light. I was frozen to the spot.
They continued to shimmer. “I’m just scared is all. Of throwing it all away. Betraying that many people. ’Cause I gotta come out the other end happy. Right?” Yakishio looked at me dead on. Her expression was steely. “That’s why I want you to join me.”
But why me? After all my silence, that was the first question to come to me. It wasn’t the one I had to ask, though.
“You’re sure about this?”
A subtle twitch. “Yeah,” she said. “I’ve been considering it for a while. It’s not some spur of the moment…”
I shook my head. “If you’re not lying to me, I won’t stop you. Hell, I’ll be happy for you. But I know you’re not as sure as you’re trying to make yourself sound. That’s why you asked me out on that—”
“I don’t care!” she interjected. She tried to go on, to protest, but the fight quickly left her. She wilted like a flower. “I’m tired. I told you, I’m tired.” She shook her head. “The passion’s gone. I can’t keep doing this if it means stealing opportunities from my friends.”
Yakishio wasn’t lying. Not about this. I could tell, because she always sucked at it. That was who she was. She was sensitive. She was thoughtful. She was, believe it or not, actually a bit of a wet blanket.
All the more reason.
“I won’t support this,” I told her. “I’m a fan of yours. I like seeing you run. I don’t like hearing you talk about throwing everything away.”
“I’m saying—”
“I know what you’re saying, and I know I’m being selfish. You’re not. And that’s the problem.”
Yakishio flinched. I closed the distance.
“Stop thinking about what’s best for other people. Stop trying to do what’s convenient for them. You wanna run? Run. Don’t feel like it anymore? Then you stop.”
“I just said I wanted to quit.”
“And you’re not fooling anybody!” I snapped. “You still like running. You want to be better at it. Go even faster. What you hate is doing it at the expense of others. Living up to expectations. Running for anybody that isn’t you. But why’s that mean you’ve got to leave everyone and everything you care about behind? It smells like a load of bull to me.”
Yakishio was another person when she was on the track. She was happy. She was blazing. She was beautiful.
“Who cares what people think about you? So what if you step on a few toes? It happens! How many people have you left in the dust in all the races you’ve run? Every competition has losers, and it has winners. That’s life! So quit it with this crap and just…” I took a long, deep breath. “Just live your life, Yakishio. It doesn’t matter how special they treat you. When you win, you win. It’s all you.”
I was talking out of my ass. Spewing junk I had no business spewing. Telling the world’s hardest worker she couldn’t clock out yet. What was I thinking?
After a long moment of silence, Yakishio finally spoke. “All right, Nukkun. It’s on then.”
“Huh? What’s on?”
“Hundred meters. One race to settle it all.”
A hundred meters? Like, the distance? For running? We were running? Me and her?
“Are you kidding me?!” I blurted. “I don’t have a chance in hell at beating you!”
“Now you know how it feels.” Yakishio shrugged apathetically. “There’s always someone faster at meets. How many do you think there’d be if I went to nationals? That’s all we runners do, when you think about it. Go around finding the next person to lose to.” She flashed me a grin, taunting yet cute. “You win, and I’ll listen to you. I’ll go full tunnel vision. I’ll run so hard no one’ll even see me when I step on ’em. I’ll even keep up with the lit club. I’ll run for you, Nukkun. I’ll do the friggin’ impossible.” She pressed her fist against my chest. “But if I win, you join the go-home club with me.”
“How will I even have a chance?”
“I’ll play fair and give you a handicap. What’s your time at the hundred-meter anyway?”
I hadn’t measured that since the first semester. I had to search my memory a bit to pull it out. “Like, sixteen seconds?”
“What are you, a snail?!”
“Hey, that was back in spring. I’m probably faster these days.”
“Do you have any idea how easy I’d have it if you could get faster by doing nothing? Um…” She crossed her arms and thought. “How about this? Whatever the average time for boys is, I’ll subtract my best from it, and that’ll be your handicap. Fair?”
“Uh, I guess? Why not use the time I just gave you?”
“That’s the price I’m putting on my youth. Take it or leave it, bro.”
“When did I ask for your youth?” I grumbled under my breath.
Yakishio reeled back and smacked me on the back. Ow. “I’m serious, by the way. You better be too.”
Her smile looked a lot clearer for some reason.
Intermission: Spring in Bloom, Spring in Boom
Intermission:
Spring in Bloom, Spring in Boom
THE TSUWABUKI HIGH SCHOOL NURSE’S OFFICE. A bastion for all, afflicted or otherwise. From it emerged Tsukinoki Koto.
She turned back toward the room and bowed. “Thank you again, Sensei. Will Basori-san’s nosebleed let up soon, do you think?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry. She’s used to it by now.” Nurse Konuki Sayo, the keeper of the bastion, followed Koto out. The latter found her attempts at assuaging largely ineffectual. Konuki shut the door behind her and smiled. “No rest for a former vice president, hm?”
Koto smiled back. Her cheek twitched. “I’m trying to be better, okay?”
Konuki-sensei reached out and fixed the girl’s bangs. “You’re not so rough around the edges these days. When did you and Basori-san become so close?”
“Not too long ago. She likes me enough to come looking for me now, I guess.”
And Tiara had found her. Nose dripping with blood. Koto had insisted they go to the nurse’s office. She still couldn’t quite get a proper read on that girl or make heads or tails of the things she’d been muttering about. Something about Shintarou taking Nukumizu’s second button.
“I’m glad I caught you one last time,” Koto said. “Keep looking out for the lit club for me, would you?”
“You don’t have to tell me twice. We’re just getting to the good part.”
Koto didn’t know what that meant, but it was none of her business anymore. They exchanged only a handful more words before Koto moved on. It was about time she showed herself at the club room. This wouldn’t be the last day she saw her underclassmen, but it would be the last day she saw them in this same uniform.
As she walked, she found her every step through the hall becoming heavier. But then, from the shadows, it came. Like a creature of darkness—Shikiya Yumeko. An old, new friend. That was the only way Koto could describe their odd relationship.
Like a predator lurking in wait, she lurched forward as Koto passed. “Nurse… Koto-san. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Basori-san just needed somewhere quiet to rest a while.”
Shikiya jerked her head in the motion of a nod and ambled closer. “She gets…a lot of nosebleeds. She’ll be okay.”
“That’s what the nurse said too. Are you sure? That doesn’t sound like ‘okay’ to me.”
She nodded again before grabbing onto Koto’s sleeve. “I want…a picture.”
“Sure. Head to the trees?”
She shook her head this time. “Student council room.”
The place Koto had spent half a year serving as a very different kind of vice president. It brought back bitter memories. One in particular to do with Shikiya. But they didn’t sting quite as much as they used to. She might have even been acquiring a taste for them. Maybe going back just to put everything behind her once and for all would be good for her.
“Sure, why not,” Koto said. “Houkobaru gonna be there?”
“Just us. It’s okay. No distractions,” Shikiya rasped.
That word, “okay,” was starting to sound alien and meaningless. Koto scoffed, and they started to walk.
Shikiya leaned her shoulder in. “Can we…hold hands?”
“If you want. Whoa there, slick. Your fingers don’t have to go between mine.”
“But…it’s the last day,” Shikiya breathed breathlessly.
Koto rolled her eyes amusedly. “I’m not disappearing. We promised we’d go out for lunch sometime, and yes, I remember. Nagoya’s not so crazy far that I’ll never come to visit.”
“Can I…visit too?”
“Anytime. I’ll give you the grand tour.”
“Even…where you live?”
“Why not? I’ll even cook for you. I’ve been practicing.”
“And spend the night?”
That gave Koto pause. “Well, uh, maybe every once in a while. I’ll have to get a guest futon eventually, I guess.”
“I can use…yours.”
“Maybe a hotel’s a better idea,” Koto quickly shot back, sensing danger.
Shikiya cocked her head. “For both of us?”
“For you, doofus! Whatever, forget it, we’re here!” She threw open the door, but the student council room was empty. As Shikiya tugged her inside, Koto used her free hand to shove her phone in her face. “Look! Houkobaru says she’ll be here soon.”
“Meanie.”
Loss 3: Goodbye Season
Loss 3:
Goodbye Season
IT WAS A GORGEOUS SATURDAY AFTERNOON. MYpartner in crime, Yanami, and I had come to Toyohashi Track and Field. To practice for the last weekend of March, when Yakishio and I would race for the fate of the club.
Yanami clicked the stopwatch as I crossed the finish line.
“Time?” I wheezed, my legs shaking uncontrollably. I was pretty confident. Fourteen seconds was the goal, and I was in the zone.
“Sixteen-point-five.”
Why? Why would she lie to me? But she showed me the stopwatch, and reality with it. How could I have gotten slower?
Yanami sighed. “How in the heck’re you gonna do this in just three weeks?”
“Somehow. She’s giving me a handicap, so all I’ve gotta do is get my time down to average.”
The rules of engagement were simple. I’d have a head start equal to the difference between the average time it took a first-year boy to run a hundred meters and Yakishio’s best.
“And how exactly is all this gonna work?”
“So, basically, I start two and a half seconds before Yakishio does. Whoever crosses the finish line first wins.”
Yanami nodded. “What time are you shooting for?”
“The Tsuwabuki average is, uh, fourteen-point-five seconds.”
An eyebrow went up. “And what was your time just now?”
“Sixteen-point-five.” She didn’t reply. She didn’t need to. I coughed. “Hey, I’ve got a clear goal. Just gotta bring it down by two seconds. Or technically, by two seconds plus however much Yakishio can lower her best. That’s what’s gonna decide the winner.”
Yanami shrugged, then planted her hands on her hips. “What I still don’t get is how you got wrapped up in this crap in the first place. This is way out of character for you.”
“It just sort of happened, okay? It was this or let her leave the lit club. What was I supposed to do?”
“But dude, your time’s a joke. If Lemon-chan beats her record, two seconds ain’t gonna cut it.”
“Yakishio’s good enough that even a tenth of a second is a big deal to her. I’ve got a lot more room for improvement, so it’s really not as hopeless as it looks.”
“Big talk. Let’s see some walk then. Back in position. I’mma time you again.”
Was this how runners improved? Just running back and forth over and over? I sure didn’t know, and there was no one around to tell us otherwise.
After my third go, Yanami apparently forgot to even keep timing me, and it was right around when we were bickering over that that Komari showed up carrying a bulky bag. She looked lost.
“Over here!” Yanami called out to her. “Wave, slowpoke,” she shot at me.
“Gimme a break. I can hardly breathe—all right, all right, fine.”
Komari soon spotted us and scampered over.
“You bring the goods?” Yanami asked her.
“R-right here,” she replied, opening the bag. It was stuffed with bottles. “I m-made these. It’s got apple cider vinegar, and salt, a-and sugar.”
Homemade? Wow. I was touched.
Yanami flaunted a bottle with a puffed-up chest and a conceited grin. “Y’hear that, Nukumizu-kun? That’s the sound of generosity. Can I get a ‘thank you’?”
“What exactly am I thanking you for?”
“I supplied the bottles. I got tons at home for my diets.”
Tons, huh? Somehow I wasn’t surprised by the knowledge that she was a “buy first, think later” kind of person.
“What’s that one that’s a different color? Something special in it?” I asked.
“I-it’s got kinako,” Komari said.
“Soybean flour?”
“F-for protein. Drink it a-after you’re done.”
Was she an angel or what? I went straight for it, much to Komari’s confusion.
“A-are you done?”
“I’m pretty winded, and my shoes just came untied, so yeah, think I’ll call it here.”
She snatched the bottle from me. “Y-you will run. Until you drop. H-hopefully you’ll stay there.”
“Seriously? I’m already feeling like I could.”
Three laymen did not equal an expert, and training stupid could be worse than no training at all. I started to head off the track to at least take a breather.
Yanami stood in my way, though. “Not so fast. The lit club is in crisis right now!”
“Jeez, I’m just catching my breath. Ever heard of supercompensation?”
That was a big enough word to keep her occupied for a while. But then Komari grabbed onto me next. “E-ever heard of the Yakishio Method? Let me show you.”
She could keep that to herself. That thing was an all-or-nothing gambit. She’d have me running till I dropped for real.
“Fine,” I surrendered, “but I’m only going for a little while longer. I’m meeting someone later.”
The girls looked at me like I was crazy.
“What’s her name?” Yanami demanded.
“Wh-who is she?” Komari interrogated.
“None of your business,” I said. “What, so I’m not allowed to have my own secrets now?”
Why’d they have to do this to me? Why couldn’t they just let me save face?
They looked at each other and snickered.
“Bro’s trying to save face. You can tell,” said Yanami.
“Wh-what a loser.”
R.I.P. my face…
True to Komari’s word, I ran until I dropped. Literally. And I didn’t have a single second to show for it.
***
After practice, I dragged myself on the shaky, delicate legs of a newborn fawn fifteen minutes to Taishoken, an old place selling traditional Japanese sweets and eats. You could feel the history emanating off the facade, but not in an antiquated way. It was still clean and sleek enough to not appear off-putting. Inside, mitarashi dango, their specialty, rotated slowly around on an automated cooker. One lap, two dunks, and you could smell the rice dumplings roasting the whole way round, and the shimmer on that soy sauce glaze. God, the glaze. Food good.
A tall boy emerged from the shop while I drooled. My secret tryst. Fellow first-year, Ayano Mitsuki.
“Right on time,” he said, handing me a skewer of dango. “What’s this about? It sounded urgent.”
“Oh. How much do I owe you?”
“Don’t worry about it. You can treat me next time.”
We ate. The lazily rotating cooker continued to hypnotize. How to broach the subject?
“Is it something to do with Lemon?” he finally asked.
“Wow. Good guess.”
“Hardly. You wanted to see me without Chihaya. It wasn’t hard to figure it out.”
Guy was right. At least it saved me the trouble of figuring out how to bring it up myself. I gave him the whole story, and he listened in polite silence.
“Lemon brought me to this place a lot when we were kids, you know,” he said when I’d finished.
It wasn’t a bad pick if you didn’t have a more modern candy shop to get your fix. But wait.
“I thought you guys went to Aoki. That’s not in the same district.”
“Nope. We were a couple of commute-breakers.”
In Toyohashi, elementary schools occupied certain regions where students could be expected to commute within called “commuter districts.” Like school districts, but a regional variant. Kids weren’t allowed to leave their designated district without supervision, and violating this rule was a grave offense indeed. The nightmare of many a child.
“Back when we were third-years,” he went on. “She’d just up and tell me to follow her, and off we went. She was one of those king-of-the-sandbox types. You know the ones. She scared me sometimes, to say the least.” I didn’t doubt him. Kid Yakishio sounded like a husky without a leash. “She’d always drag me off to places if I ever got in arguments with friends or in trouble with my parents. We’d come here to eat dango and watch the machine turn, and she’d talk my ear off about stuff I couldn’t really follow.”
I bit off one of the dango. It was chewy and sweet. Probably the exact same kind of chewy and sweet that kid Ayano and kid Yakishio experienced all those years ago.
He continued, “The older we got, the less often she invited me out. There was only one time she ever took me somewhere in junior high.”
“What happened?”
Ayano took a moment to remember and decide how much to say. “It was our first year. She was making strides, no pun intended, with her running. There was a stretch of time when her supervisor was having her compete in just about every event in track.”
“You can do that? I thought you were supposed to, like, specialize.”
“You’re not wrong, but it was public school, and we were still little. Lemon was the best at pretty much everything, and she loved it all to death. She just ran and ran, and the medals practically flew to her on their own. But then a senpai she was friends with left. Because they just couldn’t compete.” He ate the last of his dango. “Ever since, she hasn’t touched anything but the hundred-meter.”
She’d never told me any of this before. Maybe because it wasn’t related to current events. Or maybe it was. Who was I to say? But it certainly brought to mind a lot of the things she’d been struggling with recently.
“I’ve got a question for you,” Ayano said. “How’d it come to a race?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. I’m serious. If you’ve got any theories, I’d love to hear them.”
He looked like he might’ve had one, but he kept it to himself. “Guess it’s on brand,” he finally muttered.
That it was. I stared at my now-barren skewer. “Running might give us an answer, but it doesn’t really solve the question, does it? I’m not really sure how I’m supposed to go about all this.”
“It’s better than nothing.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “I might’ve lost my right to speak on Lemon’s behalf, but something tells me there’s more to this than just a race. Maybe what she wants is to prove something to herself. To you. Just my thoughts.”
“If that’s all she wanted, why do the stakes have to be so high?”
“When are they not in life?” Ayano chuckled to himself.
“You’re really not being very helpful.”
“Don’t let it bog you down. Lemon’s putting a lot of faith in you to help her work through this.”
“Why me and not you?”
Ayano smirked, nudging me with his elbow. “Now isn’t that just the question of the century. I might be a little jealous.”
“I swear I’m going to tell Asagumo-san on you.” Why were all guys with girlfriends totally insufferable?
He took out his phone. “Speaking of Chihaya, she asked me to ask you if you wanted to have tea together. She happens to be in the area.”
Well, that was nice of her to ask, but social etiquette dictated that I… Wait, she just happened to be in the area?
“Did you tell her you’d be here?” I asked.
“No. Just that I was meeting you.” He tapped away at his phone, writing a reply with a big grin on his face.
I had my own personal question of the century. Just how did she “happen” to be in the area exactly? How indeed.
I lowered my voice. “Does this happen a lot?”
“What do you mean?”
“You, going out somewhere, maybe with Yakishio or some girl, and then, all of a sudden, Asagumo-san coincidentally messages you with perfect timing somehow. Almost like she was listening to you.”
Ayano stopped tapping. “Now that you mention it, yeah. That does happen a lot.”
Oh, Asagumo-san. I cleared my throat. “Ayano, I need to tell you something and understand it’s for your own good. I think your girlfriend is—”
Before I could finish, he patted my shoulder with that same big grin. “I know, man. She and I?”
“We were made for each other.”
I whipped around toward the voice. There, glistening in the sun, was a forehead most magnificent. Asagumo Chihaya beamed at me, and I could only smile back.
I said hello, and then got the hell out of there.
***
The following Monday, after school, Yanami and I were watching the track team practice. They warmed up together before dispersing to work on their respective specialties. No sign of Yakishio. No surprise.
“Are those the sprinters over there? Looks like they’re, like, working out. Building muscle or something.” Yanami squinted and peered far across the field.
“Guess that’s how normal people practice. Not like Yakishio.”
I wasn’t wasting time here, thank you very much. I was gathering intel, which was just as important as practice. I most definitely had not wimped out on account of the agonizing aches in both of my legs.
“I bet I could ask my friend who’s on the team to help,” Yanami offered. She started to tear into a long, thin package. “I think she does the high jump. She could give you major hops.”
“I’m underage.”
Whatever she was saying, I was only half paying attention, to be honest. How was I supposed to focus on literally anything other than the massive lump of yokan she was digging into? The thing wasn’t even snack sized, and she’d unwrapped it like a friggin’ banana. Was she gonna eat it like one too?
“You’re light, though. You might have some real potential.” Straight down the hatch. She actually did it.
“What’re you…?!”
“What? I said I had a friend. Chill, dude.”
“I meant the yokan. Why did you just bite right into it?”
“There’s this place in Gofukumachi. Got it from there.” Yanami went in for another bite. And hadn’t answered my question.
“I thought you were on another diet. A whole block of red bean paste doesn’t seem conducive to that.”
She countered my concern with one of her trademark smirks. “I was with you when you practiced last weekend. Thus, vicariously, I practiced too. I’m still on track, baby.”
To be fair, in games, experience was typically shared equally with the party, regardless of contribution. Meaning, by the transitive property, that those yokan calories were going to me too. Time to kick this one out.
Yanami’s chewing didn’t make for a pleasant backing track, but it backed the track team’s practice nonetheless. Apparently, you weren’t supposed to just run a hundred meters over and over. They were watching their forms, adjusting their pace, trying different strides. It looked a lot more involved than I’d given it credit for.
I finished taking notes and shut my journal. “This was helpful. Uh, Yanami-san? What’s wrong with you?” She’d turned a pale shade of blue, and she wasn’t moving. “Your complexion looks a little off.”
“Punk, I’m a rainbow.”
Still a cause for concern, but okay.
Yanami put her hand over her mouth and forced the rest of the yokan on me. “Y-you can have that.”
I did not want it. It had teeth marks and everything. But that was secondary to the fact that Yanami—Yanami—had given me leftovers.
“Do you need to go to the nurse’s office? Should I call an ambulance?”
She shook her head. “I just need…some tea. Black oolong maybe.”
Tea could do many things, but fix her? Unlikely.
“I’ll go get some,” I said.
“Wait!” she suddenly snapped a second before I started running.
“What? Puke in that plastic bottle there if you have to.”
“Don’t eat the yokan actually. I’ll finish it later.”
Oh. She was fine. I nodded and made my way to the vending machine. Walking this time.
***
Yanami couldn’t eat a whole block of yokan without getting sick. This was valuable information. Very valuable.
I stopped in front of the vending machine and took my wallet out. “Hm. Black oolong’s expensive. Let’s go with green.”
The tea clunked down. I squatted to retrieve it.
“Nukumizu-kun. There you are.”
I turned, and there was Kurata-san, the track team captain, all ponytail’d up and smiling.
“Oh. Hi,” I said.
“I hear you and Lemon are having a race. Need some help? I’d be glad to lend it.”
“How exactly do you know about that?”
She smirked. “What, and give away my source? That info cost me an arm and a leg, you know. Well, a couple blocks of yokan, but you get the idea.”
Secret source: identified. It also explained her sudden stomach troubles. That’d been her second block.
“Please try to keep it quiet,” I begged. “Anyway, gotta hurry.”
As I started to walk away, the captain grabbed my arm. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. You hear what I even said?”
Right. The help. My brain might have let that slip for some Freudian reason or another.
“I did,” I said. “What did you have in mind?”
“You wanna win that race, don’t you? I used to be a sprinter. If I were you, I wouldn’t look this gift horse in the mouth.”
Was she actually offering to coach me? That didn’t sound like such a bad idea, but then I thought again.
“I appreciate the offer. But I think I have to decline.”
“That’s the spirit. You’re in good… Wait, decline?!”
Textbook comedy. God, I couldn’t keep up with this one.
I ruffled my hair awkwardly. “If I let you coach me, I’d basically be pitting Yakishio against her own teammates. Just think it might make things needlessly difficult for her.”
“Really? You think she’d overthink it that much? Scratch that. She would. I know she would.”
She totally would.
“I have a different favor to ask,” I said. “Make sure she has a warm welcome when she returns.”
Captain Kurata nodded slowly, arms crossed. “Y’know, I think I get what your deal is.”
Everyone but me did, apparently. “Uh-huh.”
She plopped her hand on my shoulder. “Anyway, gotcha. You’re weird. Lemon’s weird. It’s a match made in heaven.”
Those were her last words before leaving. Yakishio and I were birds of a feather. Apparently.
“Weird how?” I mumbled.
I cracked open my tea and took a big swig. The simple, refreshing taste of green tea was a wave of relaxation to my confused and conflicted soul. And yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was forgetting something.
“There you are,” said the something I’d forgot. She was looking a lot better all of a sudden. Yanami snatched the tea and immediately downed half of it. “Whew! God, I love being Japanese. Can’t get enough of that green goodness.”
“So are you better or what?”
“Fit as a fiddle, this Yanami-chan. Boy was it touch and go for a while there, though.” She beamed.
“Did you make sure to clean up? You know how some people get sick just looking at that stuff.”
“Relax, I ran to the bathroom fir—shut up! I didn’t puke! Shut up!” I took her word for it. Yanami sipped a little more tea, then stared off toward Kurata. “She from track?”
“That’s Kurata-senpai. She’s the captain. She offered to coach me.”
Yanami cocked her head at me when I didn’t say anything else. “But you told her no.”
“Huh? How do you know that?”
She sneered at me. “Because you would. Wouldn’t you? Gotta do all this all by yourself, don’tcha?”
Who said that? She was putting words in my mouth. She’d be better off doing what she did best and stuffing her own.
“Just thought it wasn’t right to get her team involved,” I insisted. “That’s all there is to it.”
Yakishio hadn’t gone to them when she was struggling. She hadn’t even gone to Yanami. She’d come to me. Why that was, I couldn’t even begin to guess at, and doubtless she couldn’t either. It was probably something silly. She was hurting, and I just happened to be the one within walking distance.
Yanami stared at me, almost through me, as if trying to read my thoughts.
“What?” I said.
“Hey.” She gave a soft, mature smile and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Still got that yokan?”
I gave it to her. She happily accepted.
***
The next day, it rained. Was still raining. Third period was modern literature, but all I could pay attention to was the pattering against the windows. The raindrops drowned out the world, isolating us. It was only us. Us, the classroom, and the rain.
Our teacher was a young, soft-spoken guy. Pauses in his lecture were punctuated by a symphony of page-turning. Natsume Soseki’s novel Kokoro was today’s topic. Our textbooks included an excerpt, the final writings of a character known only as Sensei, illustrating his relationship with his close friend, K.
I turned the page a beat after everyone else, absentmindedly peeling off a sticky note that read, “Important! Subtext ahoy!” in rounded, idiosyncratic handwriting that gravitated to the upper right. Tsukinoki-senpai’s.
By her words, “Kokoro is a seminal work. It’s got BL. It’s got NTR. WSS. It’s got it all!”
Why she’d told me this, of all people, as if I would care, I did not know.
Unrelatedly, WSS was an obscure kind of branch of NTR in genre fiction, characterized by a female character essentially being “robbed” of the target of her affections. The target could be either aware or oblivious of said affections. Think Yanami. She was a good example.
I started to roll the note up into a ball but stopped. Tsukinoki-senpai wasn’t here anymore. She didn’t go to this school.
I folded the note up instead.
“Anyway, that’s all for today,” the teacher announced softly. Seconds later, the bell rang. I liked this guy. His lessons never ran long.
Now that we had a few minutes’ break, I had work to do. Tap water always tasted different the day after a downpour, so I had to do the rounds and make sure my control group was in order.
“Nukumizu-kun,” the teacher said just as I was about to leave. “You’re in the literature club, no?”
“Huh? Uh, yes. I am.”
Sensei frowned at my flustered expression. “Sorry to keep you. Are you in a hurry?”
“No, I just didn’t expect you to know my name.”
He laughed. Like I was joking. “What teacher doesn’t know the names of their students?”
Oh, they existed. And they were closer than he thought.
“Did you need me for something?” I asked.
“There are a few literature events for students I thought I’d introduce you to. I thought maybe you and your club could learn something.”
I took the flyer. On it was listed a number of events from writing contests to read-alouds to bibliobattles. They looked pretty official too. Almost too official for a club of…our reputation. For example, look at Komari. Was her kind of work the sort of stuff we ought to be putting out for public reading?
“Komari?” I questioned. “What are you doing here?”
Sure enough, there she was, as if summoned by my own thoughts.
She trotted over and grabbed my sleeve. “N-Nuku…!”
“What? Hey, are you good?”
“He… N-Nuku…” Tears welled in her eyes, then started to spill over.
“H-hey, whoa! What’s wrong?! Hey!”
Suddenly, Yanami came barreling over, pushed me aside, and threw her arms around her. “Komari-chan, what’s wrong?! What did you do, Nukumizu-kun?!”
“Nothing!” I exclaimed. “R-right?”
You could never be too sure. Especially when it came to me. It was starting to get weird, so I ushered them out of the classroom as quickly as possible.
***
Komari sipped on the hot cocoa I’d bought her, still sniffling. We were at a bench by one of the vending machines now.
“You okay?” I asked her.
“Y-yeah. Um…”
Before she could continue, Yanami shot me a glare. “Go on. Tell us what he did to you. Did he mess with your hair tuft?”
I’d thought about it, but no.
“I swear it wasn’t me this time,” I insisted. “Komari, you’d only come to 1-C for one of us. What is it?”
She nodded feebly and took a shaky breath. “H-he got in. Tamaki-senpai passed!”
I’d all but forgotten exam results were going up today.
“Nukumizu-kun, check your messages,” said Yanami. “She’s totally right.”
I pulled out my phone and navigated to the club group chat. There it was. The good news. Wow. Now that was cause for celebration. Seriously, it was huge. Still.
“Is that why you were crying? Because you were happy?” I asked.
She nodded again. So, in summary, she’d learned that Tamaki-senpai got into college, came running all the way to 1-C, found me, and burst into tears. Just normal things.
“I-I’m so happy,” she stammered, squeezing her can of cocoa. Smiling.
I dropped it and decided to just smile back.
Yanami clapped once. “You know what that means? We gotta go out and buy celebration goodies!”
“Y-yeah. I wanna celebrate.” Komari’s eyes twinkled with excitement.
“Then it’s settled. You good with that, Nukumizu-kun?”
“I might have to leave the shopping to you guys,” I said.
Yanami looked at me sideways. “You’re not gonna practice in the rain, are you?”
“As much as I can, anyway. Let me give you some money to cover my portion.”
She waved her hand dismissively at me. “Forget it. I was getting bored of watching you pant anyway.”
Maybe she could buy a new filter while she was out.
Break was almost over. We started walking back to class, Komari eyeing her phone.
“Y-Yakishio isn’t checking her phone,” Komari said.
The “congrats” I’d sent had four read receipts on it. Our senpai plus Yanami and Komari.
“Some people don’t check theirs very often,” I assured her. “She’s probably talking to friends or something.”
I tried to smile. It didn’t come out very well. So I walked a little faster.
***
I pushed the table to a corner of the club room. It was after school; I’d finished changing into my gym clothes, and it was time to start on the new regimen I’d come up with last night.
First: fifty knee raises. Fifteen, though, because it was only my first day. Next were squats. But those were rough on your back, so maybe later. I could replace those with push-ups to work my upper body. Fifty of those. Eventually. In reality, I only managed about five before I was winded.
I rolled over and stared up at the gently glowing fluorescent light overhead. “God, this soreness is killing me.”
Yanami had run me ragged last weekend, literally, and all I had to show for it were weak knees and shaky thighs. I’d thought some strength training would be a good change of pace, but everything still hurt.
“Maybe I shoulda sucked it up and let Kurata-senpai coach me,” I muttered to myself. Too late for regrets.
The door clicked open. “Excuse me, is anyone in?” And in came Tiara-san.
Our eyes met.
“Nukumizu-san, what are you doing on the…?” Her hands flew down to her skirt. “What, do you peep now?! Is that your thing?! Is that your thing now?!”
Yeah, I was just laying here waiting for girls to walk in. Totally. Just because it happened to work once didn’t make me some perv.
“Relax, I can only see up to your—anyway, can I help you?”
“Oh, right. Yes. You still haven’t submitted your recruitment plans for next year. I was wondering if—okay, now you’re just staring on purpose!”
Not staring. Looking. What happened to be in my field of view was none of my concern. I went ahead and got up before she could blow a gasket, though.
She looked at me funny. “Why are you in your gym clothes?”
“It’s, uh, a long story.”
If the track team knew, no point keeping it secret, though. I gave her the short version.
“Wow.” Tiara-san’s eyes were opened wide by the end.
“I know. Me, running? Kinda crazy.”
“Not that. You’re just usually so jumpy and skittish whenever I talk to you. You never open up this much. It’s just, well, wow.”
Far be it from me to disappoint. Also, maybe I’d have been less skittish around her if she didn’t trigger my fight-or-flight reflex so often.
She thought to herself for a few moments before nodding. “I think I can be of some assistance.”
“Don’t tell me you have track experience too.”
She dismissed me with a wave. “What you’d like is someone to teach you who does but isn’t on the team, correct?”
“Do you know someone?”
“I do, as a matter of fact. I’m acquainted with a good many people, I’ll have you know.” Tiara-san’s lips formed a soft, confident grin.
There went that darn reflex again.
***
The next morning, I stood on Tsuwabuki’s athletic field clad in my gym clothes yet again. My watch read half past six. With great effort, I stifled a yawn.
The girl in front of me cut a much livelier, and more awake, figure. “Basori-kun’s told me everything. My knowledge is yours!”
Somehow, I figured it would be President Houkobaru Hibari. And I was right. She was in her gym clothes too and joining her were Tiara-san and Sakurai-kun who watched from the sidelines.
“Right. Thanks.” I bowed clumsily.
The student council president put her hand on my shoulder. “First, we’ll have to take your measure. Once you’re warmed up, I want you to run for me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
It’d only been a few days, but I’d been practicing like crazy. I was sure to see some results.
After some light stretches, I sprinted with all my heart and soul.
“H-how was that?” I wheezed.
“Sixteen-point-seven,” Sakurai-kun stoicly read off from the stopwatch.
Results not found.
The president crossed her arms and tilted her head. “I thought your best was sixteen-point-five.”
“Let’s just say I had a bad coach,” I grumbled.
“So be it. Stand up. Back straight.” She glided toward me then started feeling me up.
“H-hello?!”
“Flex. Stay still.” The president caressed my abs. Groped my back.
“Th-that tickles,” I moaned. “That’s m-my…! Hey!”
“Man up. Stop squirming.”
My man would be up in a second if she didn’t chill. From afar, Tiara-san stared, and stared hard. I did not like it nor the way she was gradually scuttling closer.
One religious experience later, the president’s examination was over.
“I’ve got a solid grasp on your build,” she said. I’d damn well hope so. “It’s very slender. Low muscle content.”
Why did Tiara-san gulp at that?
“So, is that going to inform the way I run or something?” I asked.
She shook her head. “It informs what needs to be done before you run.”
I wasn’t running? Then what was the point?
“The race is only a few weeks away. I can’t just do nothing that whole time.”
“That’s not what I’m suggesting. These first ten days, we’re going to build the muscle and stamina necessary for proper form. Running will come in the final week.”
“Is that enough time?”
“I can’t say.” She looked me straight in the eye. “All I can tell you is, this is what I would do.”
She may have been doing this as a favor to Tiara-san, but the fact remained that the student council president was going to a lot of trouble to help me for absolutely no gain whatsoever. That had to amount to something.
I met her gaze and bowed low. “Thank you.”
“Thank Basori-kun. I can’t say no to her.”
Speaking of, she’d shuffled right up next to us. And was still staring. Wonderful.
“I notice your gait is a little off, by the way,” the president said. “Does your ankle hurt?”
“A little. Figured it was just soreness.”
“Aching centralized at the ankle typically means a sprain. I’ll pass your situation on to Konuki-sensei.”
Drat. I’d been avoiding going to the nurse’s office, but no getting out of it now. Man, I really did not want to go there.
She took a seat on the ground, her legs stretched out, and patted the dirt next to her. “I’ll teach you some exercises you can do that are easy on the joints. Join me.”
“Uh, okay.”
Tiara-san switched to roaming mode and started circling us with her phone out. Was she filming us now? Her face seriously hadn’t so much as twitched since we started.
The president’s lesson went on until about half past seven.
“How is your ankle pain, by the way?” she asked.
“Only really bad when I run. Walking, it’s just a pinch.”
“I see. Let’s exchange contact details.” She took her phone out. “We’ll call the discomfort you feel now a ten. Moving forward, I want daily, numerical updates on how it feels.”
“Sure. Does LINE work?”
While we traded info, Tiara-san got the closest she’d dared to edge all day. She coughed. “So. Do you…have LINE, Nukumizu-san?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin. That made the third time she’d parroted that phrase. She was either crazy, or she was trying to hint at something.
I relented. “Do you want me to add you, Basori-san?”
“Oh, sure! Why not?”
This girl. I’d never understand her. I held out my QR code, and she scanned it with her camera.
“You feeling better today?” I asked.
“Have I seemed unwell?”
“I mean, you’ve been popping nosebleeds like—”
Tiara-san puffed her chest out and interjected, “Don’t you worry about that! I drink orengedokuto now!”
“Oren-what? I’ve literally never heard of that in my life.”
“It’s a kind of herbal medicine, and with it, my nose has been utterly and completely cured of all ailments!”
Must’ve been some fancy herb, then. I wished it would fix the ailment in her brain.
***
I parted ways with the student council and made my way across the field, half watching the baseball club practice as I went. Had to go get changed in the club room. Then a full day of lessons. God…
“Dang. You looked pretty good out there.” Suddenly, Yanami appeared next to me. She was eating a banana.
“You could have come and said hi instead of stalking me.”
“I thought about it. But look.” She pointed to a tree some distance away with her half-eaten banana. Komari peered around it.
“What is she doing?”
“Too many people she didn’t know. One look, and that was pretty much it for her.”
Fair enough. The student council was, in a word, eccentric. I forced my tired legs to carry me to Komari’s tree.
“Whatcha up to?” I asked.
She stayed half-hidden behind it. “A-are they going to be t-teaching you from now on?”
“That’s the idea. They’ll be keeping tabs on my progress. Coaching me and all that.” No response. “What?”
“Nukumizu-kun just can’t stop bullying,” Yanami goaded, waving her banana peel at me accusingly.
“You were literally watching. I didn’t even do anything.”
Komari emerged and held out a bottle she’d been clutching. “I-I made this.”
“Oh, for real? I was just getting thirst—”
But she went straight past me and gave it to Yanami.
“Why, thank you, Komari-chan,” she gloated.
“I thought that was for me.”
Komari glowered in my direction. “Ch-cheater.” And then, with zero elaboration, she ran off.
“This cider vinegar stuff really hits the spot,” Yanami gloated. Again. “I see why people say this stuff’s good for fatigue.”
“Are you sure that’s not mine? Why are you drinking it?”
She shrugged, not even deigning to remove the straw from her mouth first. “Would you give it if I asked?”
“I mean, yeah.”
“That’d do it, Nukumizu-kun.”
Do what exactly, Yanami-san?
She took another big sip, then handed the bottle to me. “Here. You can have half.”
Whatever. Evil tax collector extorts local man. What else is new? I started to drink but smelled banana. So I wiped the straw, thoroughly, with a wet wipe. Then I drank. It was salty, sweet, tangy, and it sure did hit the spot.
I just wished it didn’t still taste ever so slightly of banana.
***
While working on the stretches the president had taught me that night, Kaju waltzed right into my room without a word of forewarning. She had a way of making her presence irrefutable, so I didn’t bother trying.
She plopped down in front of me. “Oniisama, have you taken up sports?”
“Just trying to get in shape. Need something?”
“White Day is this weekend. I was baking for friends and went ahead and made some treats for you.”
Already that time of year, huh? Asagumo-san was the only one I’d gotten any legitimate chocolate from, but I already knew Yanami would throw a fit if I didn’t bring anything for the club.
Kaju handed me a paper bag. I took it and looked inside. “Thanks. So what’s on the menu?”
“I’ve been on a traditional European kick lately. There’s dragée, pignolata, and streuselkuchen. I hope you and the girls like them!”
“There’s what, what, and what?”
She presented me with yet another box. “This is pitta ’nchiusa. Make sure you give it to the one who really deserves it.”
Pittan…? Like the puzzle game? Anyway, this was perfect. I could save this one for Asagumo-san.
“Thanks, I guess,” I said. “It’s a big help.”
We were already a month out from Valentine’s and that whole ordeal. All of it felt so distant now, to say nothing of recruiting new members and saying goodbye to our senpai. My race with Yakishio had quickly taken over my brain. Still hadn’t totally come to terms with the fact that it was actually happening.
“Sorry to disturb you while you’re busy,” Kaju said. “Is there any way I can help?”
“I’m about to work my abs, actually, if you can hold my feet.”
“Oh boy, can I!” As I started my set, she went on, “Sharing hobbies really is the best way to connect with that special someone, isn’t it? I’m rooting for you, Oniisama!”
“Nothing to root for. Can’t stress that enough. Also, your face doesn’t need to be that close to mine.”
“I’ve started learning how to make dresses, by the way, and I was thinking I ought to start with small things. Any ideas? Baby clothes, perhaps?”
“Might come in handy. For you. In ten years.”
Were sit-ups always this exhausting? And invasive?
I made it to thirty, then promptly collapsed.
***
Ever so slowly, dawn began to break over the city. The sun did its leisurely march over the horizon, bringing with it its rays. Fog blanketed the Toyokawa riverbed, and as Yakishio Lemon ran along it, she left a trail in her wake. She loved this time of day. That short moment between morning and night. It was her favorite time to run, her favorite air to breathe. Every breath that filled her lungs gave life to a new her.
A new day. A new her.
She jogged beneath the Shinkansen overpass, wondering just how much further she ought to go, until she saw someone on the riverbed with her. Someone small. Minuscule, even. Someone who always seemed one wrong word away from a panic attack. And yet, someone deceptively strong.
A friend. One of Lemon’s very best. Komari Chika.
She stood in Lemon’s path, as if she’d been waiting for just this moment. Lemon saw the twisted, anxious look on her face, and it hurt her heart. There was no running from it this time. All her regrets, all her guilt, now demanded they be addressed.
Lemon slowed and calmly approached. “What are you…?”
She lost the strength to finish her sentence.
“Y-you’ve been avoiding me.”
Komari was mad. Lemon didn’t need to hear the pointedness in her words to know that. The lit club was everything to her. Protecting it, her mission. Lemon was the antagonist of her story. Lemon knew what she was doing, and she was doing it anyway for some stupid, selfish reason not even she really understood.
Lemon put her hand to her chest and caught her breath. She thought the words might come on their own. They didn’t.
“Y-you’re racing Nukumizu?” Komari’s hands were in tight, white-knuckled fists.
“I’m sorry.”
She was selfish. Regret was selfish. She waited for the vitriol to come.
Komari breathed, composing herself, then calmly continued, “Y-you’ve been skipping track too.”
“Yeah.”
Komari looked up to meet her eyes. “Were you e-ever going to tell anyone?”
“Why? My problems aren’t you guys’.”
Her jaw dropped, and her mouth hung open for a while. But Komari breathed again. “Wh-why Nukumizu? Out of everyone.”
Yakishio shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know why him. I just…” She bit back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. She couldn’t cry. She didn’t deserve to cry. She deserved a lot, but nothing self-serving. Whatever came her way, she had to take it. “I’m sorry. The race—”
“Sh-shut up!” Komari shouted hoarsely.
“I’m sor—”
“Shut up! I-I’m helping you.”
“What?” Never had Lemon meant that one-word question more than now. She retreated, shaking her head. “I lied to you, Komari-chan. I betrayed the whole club. Aren’t you angry?”
“H-heck yeah I’m angry! I’m freaking livid!” Komari stepped forward. “B-but you’re my friend! If there’s something you want—you want so bad that y-you’d break a promise, I want to help you find it! B-because you’re my friend!”
She stumbled. But she found her footing.
Yakishio pulled back her outstretched hand. “But Komari-chan, I…”
She couldn’t cry. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry. She’d promised herself a lot of things. That she’d figure all this out on her own. That she didn’t mind the loneliness. But then again, clearly, she was bad at keeping those.
“Y-Yakishio!” Komari squawked. “Y-you’re crushing me!”
She was a bad person. This was her bed, and it was hers to lie in. To hide in. To cry in.
“Th-that really hurts, Yakishio!”
But right now? Right now she had to be dreaming. Maybe in a fairy tale. Because friends like this were too good for her. So she hugged her, and she cried, and she didn’t let go.
A long time went by.
Yakishio smiled awkwardly, dabbing her tears. “Look at me. Total loser, right?”
“W-we’re not competing,” Komari muttered. She cast her eyes down sadly. “I-I really think you’re wasted on Nukumizu, b-but if he’s the one…”
“Hm?” Lemon blinked. This was the second-most confused she’d been all morning. “Wait, time out. Komari-chan, I like the guy, but as a friend. I’m not into him at all.”
“Whuh?” Komari frowned and made a face. Then her eyes shot open. “Y-you’re not?! I-I mean, you’re not?”
Lemon shook her head with not so much as a shred of hesitation. “Nope. But, uh, I guess I can see how you mighta thought that. Nah, Nukkun’s just such an herbivore that I get a little carried away sometimes.” She scratched her cheek with a shy smile. “Hey, but aren’t you into him?”
She squawked and flew back. “N-no?!”
“You’re not? But you’ve totally considered it at least.”
Komari shook her head so fast she very nearly lost it. “B-because with Tamaki-senpai, it was like…butterflies. Sometimes little pangs.” She breathed deep. “But with N-Nukumizu, it’s headaches. H-he’s always getting under my skin, and he’s a-always so smug about it. So sometimes I d-do think about him a little…b-but only because he ticks me off!”
Lemon raised an eyebrow. “You’re saying you’re not into him, right?”
“O-of course not! He’s nothing like Tamaki-senpai!”
Suddenly, Yakishio threw her arms back around her. She couldn’t help herself. “D’aw, you are so adorable!”
“C-crushing me again!”
***
Friday, the last weekday before White Day. It was after school. Yanami sat across from me in the club room. I had presented her with three gift bags.
She regarded them with great reverence before nodding and opening the first. “Candy, eh? Pretty fancy too. No way, you totally bought these!” The first of Kaju’s confections was a bunch of sugar-coated almonds in assorted colors. Yanami picked one up between her fingers and examined it closely. “Maybe too fancy. I almost don’t wanna eat it. You got acrylics mixed in here?”
“No. Kaju doesn’t need acrylics or any kind of makeup to be—”
Yanami ignored me and ate one. It was clear where her interests lay. “Holy crap! I need your supplier stat!”
“They’re not all for you, ma’am.” I removed the bag from her reach.
She licked her fingers clean with pompous grace—as gracefully as one could even do such a thing—and eyed the three slips of paper with names on them in front of her. “That was the streuselkuchen. Final answer.”
“Wrong. Dragée. It’s French apparently.”
“Dang. Half points?”
In her dreams. I opened another bag. “The streus—”
“Hush. I’mma get it this time.” She grabbed the second unopened bag, peered inside, and sniffed. “By George, I’ve got it. This fried chicken-lookin’ stuff is the streu-whatever.”
“That’s pignolata. Italian. The streuselkuchen is this one.”
“It looks like skin under an electron microscope.” Flattering description of food. With a face all too unconvinced, she bit into one of the squares of cake. “I approve! You could straight up sell this too. We got us a chain going.”
The Yanami was satisfied with her White Day offerings. It was a miracle.
“I brought stuff too,” she said. “Can’t let you have a monopoly on girl power in the lit club.”
I could think of no monopoly more functionally useless. Big talk, though. Now I was curious.
She put a box of cookies on the table.
“Those are literally store bought.”
“I decided they know what they’re doing.” Who was the monopoly with now? She opened the box and munched on a cookie. “Yup. I was right. Not as good as your sister’s stuff, though.”
Fascinating. I turned my brain off. Was way more enjoyable watching her stuff her face that way.
Suddenly, the door exploded open. Usually, it was Yakishio doing that, so my heart skipped a beat, but it was just Komari.
“Good timing,” I said. “I’ve got White Day desserts.”
She didn’t budge, glaring at me. “N-Nukumizu! You are the enemy!”
So I was. “That’s cool. Anyway, Yanami-san was just trying to guess their names. Wanna give it a go?”
“Huh? I-I said…you’re the enemy.” Komari’s enthusiasm withered before my very eyes.
Yanami nodded. “We know that, girl. He’s the enemy of women everywhere. Want some cookies?”
“S-sure. I made some too.” She took a plastic container out of her bag and sat. With her sweets added to the mix, we had a regular tea party on our hands.
A while later, Yanami put away her cookies, her appetite sated, and sipped some tea. “How’s your training montage with the president coming, by the way?”
“We’re only three days in. That said, pretty well.” I didn’t mention this part, but private coaching from a pretty girl did wonders for my motivation, the Tiara-san Horror Show aside. I almost wished it didn’t have to end after the race. So imagine my confusion when I was subject to their judging gazes anyway. “What?”
“Yeah, a girl like that all over you, it’s no wonder things are going ‘well’ for you,” Yanami moaned sarcastically.
“D-die,” Komari spat.
Slander. This was slander.
“Don’t be rude to the president,” I said. “Yeah, she gets up close and personal sometimes, but it’s all to help me improve.”
The judging eyes did not waver. “How right you are. And I’m sure you, in all your dedication, feel absolutely nothing about it.”
“Look, most men, and I’m generalizing here, would feel quite a bit when a beautiful girl like the student council president gets all touchy like she does. I won’t deny that, nor the fact that I, myself, am in the demographic of ‘most men.’” I cleared my throat. “I also can’t deny that it is, in fact, not an insignificant source of motivation for me, but that’s simply a consequence of the means, not the end. My goal is, as ever, to win in the race and keep Yakishio from…”
Another sixty seconds of intense clarification later, and the only response I got to my thesis was a curt, “Do you ever shut up?!”—courtesy of Yanami.
“Okay, whatever, but all I wanna know is if you even have a shot at this,” she said.
“We’ll just have to see.”
My ankle had healed up pretty well, and we were adding more workouts to my routine. I’d even switched to riding my bike to school. With the big day just two weeks away, I couldn’t waste a single moment.
“Crap, forgot today’s report,” I said, whipping my phone out.
“‘Report’?” Yanami questioned.
“I’m keeping the president posted on my ankle strain.”
“And you send these every day?”
“Every day.”
What was her problem? In any case, I got a reply fairly quickly after my message, and she asked if I was free to come use the sports teams’ equipment. Apparently, it was available today.
“I’ve been summoned,” I said. “You guys finish up the food.”
Komari jumped up, hacking on a piece of streuselkuchen. “W-wait, enemy!”
Right. That. I’d almost forgotten. “Uh, so I guess that’s me?”
After downing some tea, Komari nodded. “Th-that’s right. I’m on Y-Yakishio’s side now.”
What? Yakishio’s side? In what context? The race? Was she insane?
“Komari, you do know what’ll happen if I lose, right?”
“Y-you and Yakishio q-quit the club.” So we were on the same page as far as that went. “But I’m still n-not gonna go easy on you.”
What the actual hell was she thinking? Was there some secret underground lit club I was unaware of and unwelcome in? Was our current arrangement obsolete?
Yanami handed a bag out to Komari. “This has almonds in it.”
“Th-they’re good.” She munched. Yanami munched. Those French treats sure were popular.
“So we’re, uh, on opposite teams now,” I repeated. “And we’re snacking together?”
Yanami offered me the bag next. “Maybe as far as the race goes, but we’re still all friends here. Same goes for Lemon-chan.”
She had a point.
While I considered the implications of all this, Komari put a little of each dessert together and wrapped it all up. “M-make sure Yakishio gets some. Y-you’re closest.”
“You want me to bring her that? To her house?”
“Don’t you think you oughta do that, Komari-chan?” Yanami said. Imagine that. Yanami agreeing with me for once.
Komari shook her head. “Y-Yakishio’s, y’know, Yakishio. She c-can’t be alone for too long.” She forced the package on me and made sure I didn’t let go. “B-but don’t forget. You’re the enemy.”
***
Sunday was actually White Day. I was on one of my daily brisk walks through the neighborhood, as prescribed by my coach. Did going for a walk really count as exercise? As long as you wore gym clothes while you did it, sure.
There was one particular house I kept passing by. In fact, I’d just done it again.
“Awkward…”
On the nameplate read the family’s name. “Yakishio.” I was supposed to make a delivery on behalf of the lit club. That wasn’t so hard, was it? Just handing over a few desserts? You’d think. But ringing the doorbell of a girl’s private residence proved an exceptional challenge for me.
Another round. But this time, I stopped in front of her house before moving on. Big things happening here. Next step: imagining myself ringing the doorbell. Slow and steady wins the race.
“Oh? Are you a friend of Lemon’s?”
I stopped. My head hung as it was, I’d failed to notice the extraordinarily attractive woman in front of me. It was hard to place her age, but she looked younger than Amanatsu-sensei at least. Her hair hung down to her shoulders, and she had the face and body of a model. And it was all very familiar.
“We’re, um, clubmates. We go to school together,” I stammered shyly. “Are you her sister?”
I didn’t remember her having an older sister, but what else could she be? Unless…
A grin quickly spread across her face. “Well, aren’t you the sweetest! Come in, come in!”
“I-I was just here to deliver something.”
What had I gotten myself into? The woman grabbed my hand and practically dragged me inside. So it was hereditary.
The woman turned around and smiled one more time. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Lemon’s mother. Mother. Not sister. Mother.”
***
Mrs. Yakishio sat on the opposite end of the living room table from me. Steam wafted from a cup of tea resting on it. Next to it, a plate of cake.
“I, er, really am here just to give Yakishio-san something,” I said.
“She’s out on a run right now. Please, have some cake while you wait.”
I’d have rather gone home. An option precluded by my host’s own enthusiasm.
I picked up my tea and sipped, eyeing her across the table. In two wrinkleless hands, she held her own cup. She was absolutely pretty enough to be Yakishio’s mom. No doubt about that. But she had to be at least forty, thirty at best.
Those clothes Yakishio had worn on her date. They’d been her mother’s. Interesting. Very interesting.
I let those feelings ferment as I placed the bag on the table. “Can you tell her this is from the literature club?”
“It was so nice of you to come all this way. What’s she like during your meetings, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Well, she usually just used the room as a separate changing room, but that didn’t seem all too appropriate to bring up right now.
“She’s…very energetic. Very talkative. And, uh, energetic.” Was I repeating myself?
Mrs. Yakishio nodded, not seeming to mind. “And? What else? Has she written anything?”
“No, not really, but she’s, uh…very fast. Very energetic.”
It was taking all my self-control to not turn this into a Yakishio roast.
“Then I’m glad. She’s had me a bit worried lately.” She took a daring sip of tea, which instantly burned her tongue. Was it wrong of me to find someone’s mom cute?
Now to find a way out of here. I casually bided my time, waiting for a good moment to start that whole social dance.
Then I noticed her staring. “Is it you?” Mrs. Yakishio muttered.
Me? Was what me?
Suddenly, footsteps came from the front door. “Mama, is the laundry dry?” As the final word left her lips, Yakishio Lemon sauntered into the living room, where she promptly froze. Dressed in little more than a tank top and short shorts, a towel hung around her neck. “N-Nukkun?! What are you doing here?!”
I wasn’t too sure of that myself.
“Just, um, bringing you White Day snacks. From the lit club,” I said.
“Oh. Okay. Um. Thanks.” She scratched her cheek, skirting her eyes around me.
She felt awkward. I felt awkward. We were all awkward here. What better time to take my leave.
But before I could make that intention clear, her mother shot up. “I think I’ll go shopping! Make yourself at home, Nukumizu-kun!”
“Mama?!” Yakishio blurted.
“No, that’s okay,” I insisted. “I was just leaving.”
As I started to stand, Mrs. Yakishio darted over and gently pushed me back down. “None of that. You don’t wanna let that cake go to waste. It’s Matterhorn. Sit, Lemon.”
“Mama!” the younger Yakishio protested again.
Her mother gave her the same treatment and seated her across from me. “Mama’s off!”
She was gone before we could get another word in. She was Yakishio’s mom all right. Complete with that utter disregard for others’ comfort, because the awkwardness was back with a vengeance. I couldn’t just leave after all that.
Yakishio gave me an exasperated look. “Just eat the cake, Nukkun.”
“Uh, okay.” I picked up my fork and sank it into the Mont Blanc, Yakishio watching my every move. Every single one. Closely. “You’re giving me anxiety.”
“I hear the student council president is coaching you.”
My fork stopped where it was. “And it’s perfectly wholesome, I’ll have you know. It’s all educational.”
“I mean, I know what coaching is. What are you talking about?” Nothing. Nothing at all. I doth protest too much. Yakishio put her hands behind her head and eyed me. “So that’s how you get your kicks, huh?”
It wasn’t. It really wasn’t. But I did not trust myself to say so without digging myself into an even deeper hole. So I shut up and ate my cake.
Yakishio hurled her towel at me. “Stole my friggin’ idea, that girl.”
“How were you gonna coach me when I’m literally racing you?” I removed said towel from my face.
She shrugged. “Didn’t trust you to actually make it much of a competition on your own.”
“Isn’t that good for you?”
“Sure, I guess, but I’m gonna win either way, so what’s the harm? Just you wait.”
Her expression exuded confidence. Confidence that suited her. Yakishio Lemon. The most confident, bold, and magnetic girl I knew. But there was more to her than that. She had sensitive sides too. Gloomy sides. Brooding sides.
Suddenly, she threw her hands on the table with a clatter and thrust herself at me.
“Yakishio?”
A hint of a smile played about her lips. She leaned further.
“Y-Yakishio?”
“Gimme a taste.”
Of the cake? Of the cake, I assumed. I clumsily balanced a bite-sized piece on my fork and held it out. She opened wide, like a spoiled princess, then ate. As I slid the fork out from between her lips, a bit of the cream stuck to her.
She wiped it with her finger. “You suck, dude.”
“S-sorry.”
What was I getting so worked up over? We’d done this before. Albeit with reversed roles. And at a café, not alone at her house after her mom had vacated the premises specifically to give us privacy.
On second thought, maybe we hadn’t done this before. I gulped.
Yakishio giggled. “Now we’re even. For Valentine’s Day.”
“Actually, that’s what the bag is for.”
“You seriously never learn,” Yakishio sighed.
“What? What’d I do this time?”
“Gimme another bite, and maybe I’ll tell you.” She shut her eyes and opened her mouth again.
“Dude.”
What was even happening? This went way beyond the role-play from last time. That time, she’d been the big sister. Had she de-aged or something? Actually, little sisters I could handle. I had experience.
I offered the fork again. Shakily, it crept closer and closer to her waiting lips.
“Neesan, your friend’s here.”
Yakishio and I lurched back. The source of the voice was a young girl, likely only a year or two away from junior high. Her hair was done in braids, and through a thick pair of glasses, she gave us both an unamused look.
“Nagi?!” Yakishio blurted. “And—”
“Yanami-san?!” I shouted for her.
Behind whom I could only surmise to be Yakishio’s little sister, arms crossed, stood a most displeased Yanami.
“Am I interrupting?” she deadpanned.
“I-it’s not what it looks like!” we said in unison.
Yanami raised a single eyebrow. “Pattern A, huh? Is that what this is?”
“Literally what?” I asked.
She sauntered over and fell heavily next to Yakishio. “Pattern A is when you’re dating behind my back. For the record, I will cringe at you while I put the pieces together in bed tonight if that’s what this is.”
Yakishio and I glanced at each other. We shook our heads.
Yanami held her head in her hands. “Oh dear God, is it Pattern B? Please, no.”
“Against my better judgment, I’ll ask you to elaborate.”
“Pattern B means I’m watching you actively become a thing in real time. You know. That nightmare I’m already living literally every day.”
The Hakamada and Himemiya-san special. Nope. Still off the mark.
“We’re not anything in any way whatsoever, so get off that train of thought,” I said.
“Yeah!” Yakishio agreed. “What he said!”
“Then someone tell me what the hell you were feeding her for,” Yanami demanded. She fixed me with two dagger-like eyes.
I looked to Yakishio for a lifeline. She nodded. “We were just sharing. You share with your friends, right?”
“Like that? With a boy?”
Yakishio cocked her head, genuinely confused. “I did it with Mitsuki all the time. Haven’t you and Hakamada?”
“Uh, no?”
For several agonizing seconds, you could have heard a pin drop. Until a chair scooted as Yakishio’s sister took a seat next to me. And then she just started drinking milk. The aura.
“Hey, so what grade are you in?” Yanami asked, probably desperate for a change of topic.
She gave her that same bored look as before through those same thick lenses. “I’m a sixth-year. In elementary. Nagi is my name.”
“Oh, so you’re gonna be in junior high pretty soon. Does li’l Lemon have any boys she likes?”
She finished her glass of milk and clunked it on the table. “I’m not interested in boys. Neesan, I put your laundry on your bed. Remember to fold and put it away later.”
With that, she put her cup away, and she was gone. The aura.
“That’s the sister you mentioned, I’m guessing,” I said.
“Yep. And she’s crazy smart too,” Yakishio replied. “She can even keep from pushing the stop button on the tram till she actually needs to.”
Could…Yakishio not?
“So, uh, Yanami-san. Why are you here?”
“Oh, right! I had something to tell you guys.” Yanami stood and cleared her throat. “I have decided. I’m joining Team Lemon-chan too! Anyway, long story short, you’re the enemy, Nukumizu-kun.”
I had no words. Didn’t look like Yakishio did either.
“Hold up,” I said. “You guys know what this race is about, right? Like, you know what’s at stake?”
“Sure I do, and so does Komari-chan, but she turned coat too. A girl gets lonely.” She looked down at me in disgust. “Since you’ve got the student council to fawn over you and all. Wouldn’t want to be a third wheel.”
Yakishio nodded, convinced. “Nukkun has been awfully frisky lately.”
“Right? Like, come on, dude. Get a room.”
How quick the world was to turn on me. And what was that junk about being a third wheel? Like I was that smitten with the president? I was taking special care to be normal, thank you very much.
Yanami, having satisfactorily dunked on me, returned to her seat as she fixed her hair. “So yeah, that’s pretty much it. Now back to the cake thing.”
That was a long way back.
“Again, don’t read into it too—”
“I know,” she interrupted me. “I just remembered, sharing is normal between friends. Dunno what I was thinking.”
Thank god for that. It might’ve gotten a little weird there for a while, but it was all just fun and games in the end. That was one weight off my shoulders.
But then Yanami started tapping her finger, her eyes dancing all around. “So, y’know, maybe I can have a bite too.”
She kept tapping. Was that all she wanted?
I moved the plate in front of her. “You can have the rest. I wasn’t that hungry anyway.”
There was my good deed for the day. A little positive karma did wonders for the gacha pulls. But why did the girls look so upset with my objectively virtuous behavior?
“What now?” I asked.
Yakishio shrugged, resigned. To what? “That right there, Nukkun.”
Why? Was it something I said?
Yanami looked similarly disappointed in me. “He never learns. And Lemon-chan? No. Absolutely not.”
“No?”
“No.”
Whatever this exchange was about, it looked to be of the utmost importance.
So many things to learn. So many things in that nebulous space known only as “there.” Truly, we lived in a complicated and multi-faceted society. I lifted my cup of tea as I pondered this.
It was empty.
Intermission: Love Takes Time
Intermission:
Love Takes Time
TWO GIRLS WALKED BY A CLUSTER OF APPAREL stores in Kalmia, a local mall by the station. One, a certain Nukumizu Kaju, kept stopping to gaze at the outfits on display.
The other brought her hand down on her head. At least one or two below her own. “You gonna keep staring, or we wanna go inside?”
“I’m not looking for me. Do I look like I could fit into kids’ clothes? I’m not that small.”
“Kids’ clothes?” Gon-chan, known to most as Gondou Asami, traced Kaju’s eyes toward a set of clothing very much too small for either of them. “Oh, those are cute. What’re you looking for then?”
Kaju walked up to a nearby rack where they hung and felt them. “Ideas for once they start walking.”
Gon-chan tried and failed to parse that sentence. Then something hit her. And her face blanched. “Nuku-chan, what did you and your brother do?!”
“What did we do? What do you mean? Nothing we haven’t always done. You know us. Glued at the hip.”
Gon-chan let out a relieved sigh. Business as usual. “What’s this about then?”
“Well, you see, it seems my dearest Oniisama has finally set his heart on someone.”
“Oh. Huh. Uh, good for him?”
Kaju’s idol and the target of her most ardent affection had found himself a sweetheart? Gon-chan studied her friend’s expression closely.
She put a hand to her chest and shut her eyes. “I intend to respect his decision. And now that he’s found his girl…”
“Now what?”
Kaju’s eyes shot open, brimming with conviction. “Now it’s time for me to learn how to be an aunt.”
“Is it?”
She nodded. “The thing is, they’re only high school students, so it falls on me to be the mother their child needs.”
“Does it? Does it really?”
“It really does.” Kaju removed a tiny dress from the rack and held it against her chest. “I think this is how you’re supposed to hold babies. Right? But after twelve months, it gets a little trickier.”
Gon-chan chose her next words very carefully. For the benefit of her passionate partner. “All that’s still a ways off, no? Is it really that urgent?”
“For as long as I can remember, I’ve cultivated myself to be the perfect wife. Isn’t the next logical step being the perfect mother?”
“I…guess. Maybe it is.”
“It really is.”
Gon-chan knew how to pick her battles, and this was not a challenge worth pursuing. She’d have bet money that Kaju’s brother even having a girlfriend was probably some convoluted misunderstanding. But even that was only a symptom of whatever was wrong with this girl.
For a split second, she really did imagine Kaju holding a baby in her arms. But she threw that image away real fast.
Loss 4: A Girl Called Yakishio Lemon
Loss 4:
A Girl Called Yakishio Lemon
FIVE DAYS HAD FLOWN BY SINCE YANAMI’S BIG announcement, and it was time for the third semester’s closing ceremony. As was always the case on occasions like this, a surreal, dreamlike quality permeated the day. Even after the ceremony, as final grades were handed out, that feeling never quite left.
I closed my report card. Down from last semester. Gradually, the classroom quieted, the buzz naturally falling to a murmur, and then silence.
When everyone had returned to their seats, Amanatsu-sensei began, “So. Spring break is upon us. Next time I see your mugs, you’ll be second-years.” A serious face for serious talk. I sat up straight. “You’re all gonna split. Some of you to sciences, some of you to humanities. But wherever you go, it ain’t gonna be here. Take one last look at all your classmates.” Sensei took a moment to do so herself, burning the view from her podium into her retinas. “But you’re in good company. We all go through it every April. Everyone’s nervous. Everyone’s unsure. Remember that when you’re meeting new people, and you’ll be just fine.”
It had been a memorable year, that was for sure. I’d gone from talking to basically nobody to actually having a social circle. A community. Sometimes they felt like trouble, but never more than they were worth.
“So you folks go on and live your lives,” Sensei went on. “I’ll remember it all for ya. I’ll remember that you were class 1-C so you can run off and be somethin’ else. Your job’s to make sure it’s something you’re proud of.”
She might have had a rocky start, what with forgetting who I was, but I’d come around to Amanatsu-sensei. She’d even introduced the lit club to our current supervisor. The fact that it was Konuki-sensei was questionable, but I considered it a net positive, all things considered.
Her shoulders dropped, her spiel coming to an end. “You’re the fifth class I’ve said all this to, and I gotta say, it never really gets any easier.” She sniffled and dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief.
She was crying. For all her quirks, she really did care. A respectful silence filled the classroom.
“Or wait, are you the sixth? Fourth? When did I get chewed out for forgetting report cards at home? My third year?”
And there went the respect. That was our Amanatsu-chan.
“Anyway, I’ll be seeing you folks around. Maybe we’ll be stuck together again. Maybe I’ll be teaching one of your classes. Either way, y’all better be nice to me!” She smacked the podium with the class roster. Just like always. “Dismissed! Class 1-C, you’re outta here!”
***
Homeroom had ended not even after noon. There was a class party later, so there wasn’t much melancholy as people got up and around. I had been invited to it, for the record. I’d just declined. Cross my heart.
The class was empty now. I stared at the blank blackboard, my mind wandering to sentimental places.
“Whole lot’s changed,” I muttered.
Almost a year ago, I’d had no friends. Now I was racing the school’s track star. A girl who was impossible to hate. A girl who had a million friends and could have had any boy she wanted.
So why me?
Over the dozens upon hundreds of times I’d asked myself that question, not once had I found an answer. I doubted I’d ever find one. Not now. Not even at the end of the finish line. So the energy I’d spend wondering would be better spent elsewhere. Doing things that mattered more.
“You seriously never change, dude.” I felt the tension leave me. In sauntered Yanami Anna, twirling around, taking in our old classroom, before taking a seat at the desk next to mine. “I thought you were busy. Busy enough to skip the party, anyway.”
“I’m meeting the president later.”
“Yeah? ’Course you are.” She always made that same disgruntled face every time the president came up. Jealousy, I assumed. Houkobaru Hibari was in a whole other league, after all. Some girls had it all.
“Aren’t you going to the party?”
“Duh. I’m just killing time.”
Here to say goodbye to the classroom then? How uncharacteristically corny.
She leaned back against the chair, stretching her arms out. “This year sure flew, huh?”
“It really did.”
It’d flown. But it had also crawled. Looking back, somehow it was both at once.
Yanami balanced the chair on its back legs. “I had big ideas in my head when I first got here, y’know. It’s high school, right? I was gonna live it up like in all the movies and TV shows.” The chair creaked. “Yeah. That went about as well as you’d think.” She gave a tired smile. I saw hints of embarrassment. Hints of resignation.
What were those ideas exactly, I wondered. What had her ideal high school life been? Something to do with Hakamada, no doubt. Late nights studying. Going on dates. Bickering.
“It was hard at first,” she continued, “being in the same class as Sousuke and Karen-chan. But I had good friends. And you, well…”
“Me?” I parroted.
She didn’t answer me directly. But she did smirk. “It turned out all right, I guess.”
It’d turned out all right. After all the tears and the pain, that was the culmination. The ending to her first year of her not-so-idyllic high school career. I was happy for her. I didn’t have any reason to be. But I was. Her tears and her pain hadn’t been for nothing.
Yanami clunked and scooted her chair over to me. “Hey, did you hear what they’re saying about the new classes?” I shook my head, much to her satisfaction. “They’re splitting up the couples.”
“Wow. Really?” Not my finest work, as far as feigning interest went.
It was enough to egg her on, though. “That means Sousuke and Karen-chan are gonna be in different classes next year. And on top of that, I’ve got a real chance at getting put in the same one as Sousuke. Know what that means?”
“I swear if you say you’re going homewrecker mode…”
Bad idea. Horrible idea.
She waved her hand, half-heartedly dismissing my very real concerns. “As if I’d do that to my two best friends.”
“Is that what you call them?” I doubted that she even knew the meaning.
“Listen and open your mind, Nukumizu-kun. Seventy percent of high school couples break up within half a year.”
“That many?”
Yanami nodded with grave sincerity. “Like, okay, I obviously want the best for them and hope it doesn’t happen, but the numbers don’t lie. Seventy percent, Nukumizu-kun.”
“Okay?”
“Picture this. Sousuke’s just lost the love of his life. His soulmate. What am I, his trusted childhood friend, to do? Obviously, I gotta be there for him. Look me in the eye and tell me that’s not prime material for a new romance.”
Get him while he was weak and his standards were low. An excellent strategy. The queen of limbo looked wistfully up at the ceiling.
“They’ve been dating for longer than half a year already,” I pointed out. “Aren’t they out of the danger zone?”
“That’s true. If anything, things are going better than ever for them.”
In which case, I struggled to imagine a change of class doing much to strain their relationship. Also, all this was hinged entirely on the scenario in which Yanami got put in the same class as Hakamada.
“Guess I’m getting a new class too,” I said.
“Did you forget?”
“No, I mean, I knew. I’m just kinda absorbed in the race next week.”
It was hard not to be, considering I couldn’t stop thinking this would be it. That this was the final hurdle standing in the way of normalcy. If only we could overcome it. But the world wouldn’t wait for that. Time marched on, and with it would go the status quo. All the things plaguing Yakishio’s mind—even those weren’t immune to that ceaseless flow.
“How’s practice going?” I asked.
“Oh, Lemon-chan’s totally in the zone!” Yanami beamed like it was she who’d earned the praise.
Two and a half seconds. That was all the handicap I was going to get. Even if I got my time down to average, if Yakishio broke her record, it wouldn’t be enough to win. And Yanami was beaming.
That record was getting broken for sure.
“We’re going for the gold, just so you know,” she said, thrusting her fist out at me. “Team Yakishio’s got no losers.”
I bumped it and smiled back. “Don’t try too hard.”
***
There was a small, rickety prefab not far from the athletic fields. Small and rickety was enough to house workout equipment. It served its purpose. Mostly for the sports teams, but they weren’t around, what with the closing ceremony and all that.
“Five more,” the president barked. “Legs straight.”
“I can’t even lift them.”
“Find a way. You’re arching your back. That’s three extra.”
“Oh my god…”
I was lying flat on a bench, legs extended straight out. With great effort, I lifted them. Up and down. That was the only movement. And it would have been so much easier without the president pushing down on my thighs the entire time.
Set complete. I became a puddle of exhaustion.
The president patted me on the stomach. “Take five. Next, we’ll make use of the equipment.”
This wasn’t that lazy crap I got away with at home. Working out for real, especially your core, friggin’ sucked. What was worse, this was apparently easy mode, a regimen specifically tailored to people like me who didn’t do jack all day.
I sat up on the bench and fanned my face with my hand. “This feels just as hard as day one. You sure this is working?”
“It’s supposed to be hard. I’m adjusting your routine to ensure it continues to be. Rest assured, this is all for the sake of improving your dexterity.” She fiddled with her phone as she spoke, likely doing the aforementioned adjusting. We used the same app, and our data was synced. Which of course meant she’d know the moment I skipped a day.
I did not mind the attention.
“I really can’t thank you enough for all this,” I said.
“Please. It’s for a good cause.” She put her phone away and sat next to me.
A good cause. Something told me she didn’t mean improving my health.
“The student council has a vested interest in Yakishio, I’m guessing.”
The president smiled, amused at my honesty. “I won’t deny it. I hope that doesn’t offend you.”
“Not at all. She’s a commodity. I understand why people don’t want her to just up and quit what she does best.”
She stayed quiet for a while before facing me. “I assume you’ve heard that I used to run in junior high school.”
“I did, yes. From Basori-san.”
“It was my second year. At a city-wide meet. I ran with her once.”
“And you…?”
“Lost? Oh, yes. It wasn’t even a contest.” She crossed her legs, grinning quaintly. “She competed in five events. And she stood on the first place pedestal five times.”
My talk with Ayano came to mind.
“The fifteen-hundred,” the president went on. She spoke quietly, as if carefully unearthing her own memories. “It was the fifteen-hundred that sparked the most commotion, as I recall.”
“How so?”
“She broke a prefectural record. It was nothing to sneeze at, let me tell you. Her time was competitive on a national level. And this from a first-year just making her debut. Ultimately, it was deemed an error and made unofficial.”
Yakishio was incredible. Even so long ago.
“She said she never went to nationals, though. Why?”
“She…competed in a prefectural meet once. But only in the hundred-meter.” She stood and approached a piece of workout equipment by the wall. “She placed, but not well enough to take a spot on the podium. That’s the furthest her career went. To my knowledge, she never took it further.” She beckoned to me as she adjusted the weights. “But Yakishio-kun’s left an impression on me. I worried that an injury had slowed her, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.”
“Yeah, no. She still runs at pretty much every opportunity.”
“Yet she’s chosen you as her opponent. Not a fellow runner. You. To say I’m not intrigued would be a lie.” She and I fixed the equipment up, and before I knew it, I was straddling it. “Leg curls next.”
Leg curls were where you lay on your stomach and brought your calves up to your thighs. Really worked your hamstrings. It friggin’ sucked.
“So, uh, this practically killed me last time.”
“Exactly. Just think of the rush you’ll feel.”
Oh, I’d feel a rush. Mostly to do with the pretty woman forcing me to do physical labor more than any workout, though. I decided I could roll with these punches.
I distracted myself from the intense burning in my thighs by considering what Madam President had told me. On top of hers, I’d heard stories from both the captain of the track team, Kurata-senpai, and Ayano Mitsuki, and they all seemed to connect under one common theme. There, I would find whatever it was that had been eating at Yakishio for so long.
But find it was all I could do. I couldn’t face it for her.
“Ten,” President Houkobaru counted. “Up for more?”
The fatigue hit me all at once. I collapsed into a puddle again. “I’m good. My legs are jelly.”
“Let them rest, then. We’ll go back to abs in the meantime, then do one more set.” Quite the restful idea. As I squirmed to my feet, she suddenly felt my ankle. “I haven’t heard your report today. How’s the pain?”
I realized then that there was none at all. The day we started, we’d called it a ten. “Today feels like a zero.”
She grinned wide. “Then we assemble on the field at seven tomorrow.”
***
Seven tomorrow came. Together with President Houkobaru, draped in a padded bench coat, were the usual Tiara-san and their treasurer, Sakurai-kun. Plus one unusual addition.
“Oniisama! Look this way!”
Wielding a pair of rounded fans, one scrawled with “Notice me!” and another with “Big Love (heart),” and hopping around like a total dweeb was, unfortunately, my own sister, Kaju.
“Nukumizu-san, step a little to the side,” Tiara-san commanded, camera in hand. “You look much more natural to the left of the president.” And it was one of those murder weapon types with the massive lens. Where she got a reflex camera from, I had no idea.
“You trying to take pictures of our pores?” I quipped.
“Don’t be ridiculous. The president has no pores.”
I wasn’t touching that can of worms.
Finishing up talking with Sakurai-kun, who was on stopwatch duty, the president beckoned to me. “Warmed up, Nukumizu-kun? Then let’s begin. Whenever you’re ready.”
“Right.”
No ankle pain. I felt light on my feet. Way lighter than two weeks ago. But just how much would all that working out really help my time? I approached the start line, looking back at the student council and my plus-one. Tiara-san with her massive camera. Kaju with her tacky fans. God, what a picture we painted.
I took a deep breath. She’d told me to begin when I was ready. I was as ready as I’d ever be. So I got into position, and I went for it. I felt their eyes on me with every step I took, and in what felt like an instant, I was already across the finish line.
I put my hands on my knees and panted. “T-time?”
Sakurai-kun showed me the stopwatch. With a smile. “Fifteen-point-two.”
My heart leapt. That was over a whole second better than my original sixteen-point-five. I almost couldn’t believe it. I had to do a double take.
“Oniisama, that was amazing!” Suddenly, Kaju threw herself at me. “Let me wipe your sweat! Are you thirsty? I can give you a full-body massage when we get home, and then a bath, and then we can go to sleep together, and I can sing you a lullaby and—”
“Kaju? Breathe. In. Out.”
“In… Out.”
We did this several times until she was calm. Then I faced the president. Her arms were crossed, confidently and proudly. “Um, so, why am I faster when we haven’t even done any running?”
“Simple,” she answered. “At the start of this month, you had very little stamina. By the end of the hundred meters, you were practically walking.” That came as a shock. I hadn’t pulled any punches, and it definitely felt like I was killing it out there. “Today, you had a taste of what it’s like to actually sprint the full distance. This newborn fawn has found his legs. From here on, nature wills that you become faster.”
Well, that sounded cool. And reassuring. This slowpoke was officially on the food chain. I was on top of the world.
“Should I do another?”
“No. No more times from now on.” That knocked the wind right out of my sails. She put a hand on my shoulder reassuringly. “The only thing we ought to focus on is making sure you’re in the best possible condition for the big race. Your time is a work in progress. Don’t dwell on it, or you may become complacent.”
“Isn’t it important to get a read on where I’m at, though?”
“To that end, I have an idea.”
President Houkobaru lowered the zipper on her coat. Tiara-san let out a damn near unrecognizable shriek, camera shutter clicking like crazy, as the president tossed the jacket to the wind.
“Are we really doing this?”
Beneath the coat, all along, had been a two-piece track uniform.
“That we are,” she answered. “I’ll be running with you, at a pace equivalent to your target time of fourteen-point-five seconds.” Faint shadows contoured her softly rippling abs. I had to remind myself not to stare. “We can count on Yakishio breaking her own record. If you want to win, you will have to overtake me.”
“Um. Uh.” Skin. So much skin. I retreated a step.
The president closed the distance by two, putting her finger to my chest. “Now. Let’s see if this fawn has legs enough to outrun a cheetah. Your true test begins now.”
***
Early morning. Five days of struggle later.
I was at Bon Senga, a bakery near Toyohashi Station, following my morning training. According to my parents, it was a timeless spot, and the adjoining café corner certainly had the retro vibe to match. As they liked to remind me, it hadn’t changed a bit since their day.
My food for thought: buttercream bread and cream soda. The topic of rumination: the struggle. There was no other way to really describe that first day. The gap between me and the president had seemed insurmountable, but through the magic of video, we could look back, study, analyze, and correct my form. Now, I was proud to say she was only an arm’s length away.
I had the afternoon to practice as I saw fit. As I threw back some ice to chew, I made a mental note to do my workout routine later and then squeeze some more running in.
Right about then was when Tsukinoki-senpai showed up, donning a plain sweater and a light jacket. She took a seat in front of me and crossed her legs. A pair of slim-fitting pants clung to them. “Sorry if I’m being a bother. I assumed you were busy.”
“Was on my way back, so no worries. I thought you said Tamaki-senpai would be with you.”
“Doofus forgot to pick up his change-of-address form. Should be scrambling to city hall right about now. He’ll be here eventually.” She asked the kindly looking waitress for a coffee and castella, then slipped a card out of her pocket. “My new address. Come say hi.”
“Thanks, but you could’ve just messaged me.”
“I’m telling everyone in the lit club in person. Indulge me.” She removed her glasses and started cleaning the lenses. They already looked clean to me. “I wanted to come to the club room, but, well, they put on a whole ceremony and everything just to kick us out. Awkward coming back right after.”
“I guess.”
“I mean, look at me. I can’t walk up looking like this. And putting my uniform back on would be like, I dunno, some kinda tasteless cosplay. Do I look like the kind of person to visit my alma mater in tasteless cosplay?”
“Whatever you say. Is it really that weird?”
“Describe to me a single family-friendly scenario where that happens.”
Hey, I didn’t disagree, but after what I did at Momozono, I really had no moral high ground.
“Have you already touched base with the others?” I asked.
“You’re the last one. Caught Yakishio-chan not too long ago.” She finished wiping her glasses, reapplied them, and then smirked at me. “Interested?”
“Insofar as we’re racing soon, I guess.” Two days from now, to be precise. Saturday. According to Yanami, Yakishio was in the zone. “I’m supposed to be staying at the president’s place for a training camp the day before. I dunno, I just do what I’m told.”
“Houkobaru’s place? She’s all the way in Ikobe. What the heck for?”
“She wants to fine-tune things before the day of, I guess. Sakurai-kun’s supposed to be there with us.”
“You’re racing Saturday, yeah? Shintarou and I’ll be leaving town the day after.”
We paused as the waitress came with Tsukinoki-senpai’s coffee and cake. She thanked the lady before she left.
I lowered my head. “I’m really sorry all this is getting in the way of giving you guys a proper sendoff.”
“Nah. It’s a relief, really, seeing you guys doing all this.” She splashed some milk in her coffee, then stirred, the spoon soundlessly skirting the edges of the cup. “Working things out on your own. Nice to know you can handle things when I’m gone.” A subtle sadness came over her. “Crazy to think you were a ghost for so long. A member only in name. Now here you are, club president. Looking out for Komari-chan. Well, and Yakishio-chan. She’s putting a lot of stock in you too, these days.”
“Don’t know if I’d go that far. I think she probably just clung to me because I happened to be the only one she could get a hold of who had nothing to do with the track team.”
Tsukinoki-senpai made a snide face while I did battle with the quickly melting ice cream in my soda. “You sure about that? You ask me, I say anything’s possible.”
“You realize it’s Yakishio we’re talking about, right?”
“So what? They say opposites attract for a reason. Plus, I mean, hell, she wouldn’t have literally asked you out on a date if she wasn’t at least a little interested. Sometimes it just takes a while for it to click.”
I sucked on my straw. Tsukinoki-senpai could say some funny words sometimes. Yakishio? One of the most popular girls in school? Queen of the social hierarchy? Into me? It was so ridiculous I almost laughed. Screw whatever Tamaki-senpai said about peaks and missed opportunities. This wasn’t an opportunity. It was a pipe dream.
Unless…
Tsukinoki-senpai was a girl. Albeit a very brain-poisoned girl, but a girl nonetheless. She offered a unique perspective that, perhaps, Tamaki-senpai and I lacked.
“You’re serious?” I dared to ask. “You really think I might have a chance?”
“Uh.” Tsukinoki-senpai agonized for some time before putting her hands together and hanging her head. “I’m sorry, dude, I was just saying crap. I can’t read that girl.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Yep. Back to my cream soda.
Come this weekend, our senpai would be gone. Away from Toyohashi, living new lives. Nagoya might’ve still been in Aichi Prefecture, but it was by no means within casual visit range. And that made me a little sad. It did. But that was a testament to how much thought I’d been putting into the future without even realizing it. Yakishio’s decision. The future of the literature club. The ways I, myself, might change in the coming year. Why was I so invested in this race? Why had I ordered a cream soda of all things? I never ordered cream soda.
Little bubbles fizzed to life, zipped, and then popped in the foam of that neon green liquid. In much the same way as the uncertainties dancing around inside my skull.
***
On Friday afternoon, the day before the race, I found myself standing on the athletics field of a school I’d never set foot in in my entire life. Sasayuri Public Junior High School, President Houkobaru’s old stomping grounds, was surrounded by cabbage patch fields, and the wind carried the scents of the ocean, reminding me that I was far from home.
What was the deal with me and junior highs lately?
A woman—a teacher, I figured—was chatting with the president. Meanwhile, I did my stretches. Radio calisthenics. Classic.
Sakurai-kun approached mid-stretch. “I apologize for making you come all the way out here. Hiba-nee can be very ‘my way or the highway.’”
“I’m in the lit club. I’m used to it.”
We exchanged sympathetic grins.
“All right, save the slander for later,” the president said, tossing her coat aside as she approached. “I intend to put you through your paces today, Nukumizu-kun. To an extent that doesn’t impact your performance tomorrow, but all the same.”
“About that. I actually had an idea.”
“Oh? Let’s hear it.” She did. When I finished sharing it with her, she nodded. “It’s worth experimentation. Hiroto, record from the finish line, if you would.”
“Roger,” the treasurer replied. “Good luck, Nukumizu-kun.” Then he jogged to his position.
What a great guy. Probably the most normal person in my life right now. Which was really sad, come to think of it. Tamaki-senpai was the other one, but he’d graduated. It was weirdos all the way down from here on out.
“Something on my face?” the president asked.
“Uh, no. I’ll go get in position.”
She was one of the normal ones. Right? Yeah. Comparatively speaking, for sure.
***
Two hours of “light” adjustments later, we finally made it to President Houkobaru’s home. Surprisingly enough, though, I wasn’t all that winded.
The president’s house was old school. A large, single-story, traditional Japanese build, complete with a wide-open garden in the front dotted with several sheds and storerooms. Wasn’t often you still saw this kind of architecture, so I found myself staring as we crossed said garden.
“What exactly do your folks do?” I asked.
“They own several small fields in the area. They also do work with labor unions, but they’re out right now. My apologies that I can’t offer a more appropriate welcome.”
She rattled open the sliding front door. There was a surprisingly spacious mud room, along with a couple pairs of shoes already present. I’d heard she was an only child, so who did they belong to? Young women, I guessed, based on their appearance.
“President! Welcome home!” Suddenly, pitter-pattering in her slippers, donned in an apron, came Tiara-san.
“Uh, why are you here?” That probably came out rude.
But Tiara-san simply puffed her chest out, paying it little mind. “The vice president is always there to support her partner in office. Come in, now. All of you.”
“As she says,” the president urged. “Hiroto, if you’ll show Nukumizu-kun the way.”
“Right. Follow me,” Sakurai-kun said. He took point and led me to a spacious room in theme with the rest of the traditional style on display. Tatami mats. Open air. Veranda right outside. Felt like I was at a grandparent’s house, but in a very good way.
“Is all this for me?” I asked. “Really?”
“Our grandparents moved closer to town. No one’s using it.”
“Right, forgot you and the president are cousins.”
He nodded, placing his bag down. “Don’t be too impressed. Every other spare room is crammed with junk. This is probably the cleanest one in the whole house.”
In which case, we were sharing. Did not know that. Didn’t like it. I couldn’t sleep with other people. But it wasn’t like I was about to complain to my host, so I put my own bag down, then stepped outside onto the veranda. It overlooked a yard of persimmon trees and neatly trimmed hedges. The perfect view for tea-drinking and sunbathing in one’s twilight years. That was the dream.
I took another step forward, still lost in my retirement reverie, and walked straight onto something fleshy.
“Shikiya-san?!” Lots of flesh on that one. And I’d stepped right on her. She rose slightly from her slumber on the veranda, groggily rubbing her eyes. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you were there!”
“It’s okay. Veranda…warm,” she rasped. She staggered to her feet and met eyes with me. “Why…are you here?”
“I’m having a race tomorrow, so we’re holding a bit of a training camp. But what about you guys? Why are you and Basori-san here?”
“For…fun?”
A very Shikiya-san response, and not at all informative in the slightest.
“Hiba-nee pretty much lives by ‘the more, the merrier,’” Sakurai-kun explained. “Our Obons can get pretty hectic.”
Thank god for him. So basically, President Houkobaru had made the executive decision to make this a student council event.
Shikiya-san wobbled over and gently tugged my jacket sleeve. “Cook…with me.”
Cook? Food? But wait. “I saw Basori-san in an apron. I think she’s already on it.”
“It won’t be good.”
Y’know what? That tracked.
“The president’s with her, though. Surely she’ll—”
Crash! Moments later, Tiara-san shrieked. Sakurai-kun was gone in a flash. I’d forgotten. The president was a chronic klutz. We were here to make sure I was in prime condition for tomorrow, right? Not to kill me before then?
I hid a sigh through my nose and went after Sakurai-kun, Shikiya-san still clinging to my sleeve.
***
Dinner didn’t last long. I was already cleaning dishes just after six o’clock. Tiara-san stood next to me, drying what I washed. She was quiet. Uncharacteristically so.
“I didn’t know you could cook,” she finally squeaked.
“Dunno if I ‘can.’ But I do. Both my parents work, so, y’know.”
They’d been making some kind of stew at first, but that had to change after the president up and knocked the entire pot over, completely ruining everything. Thankfully, there was no shortage of cabbage. A bit of asazuke for a pickle-y tang, some frozen ground meat, and we had some open-faced cabbage rolls.
“There’s humble, and then there’s you. You used the carrot skins to make kinpira, all without taking your attention off the main dish.”
“Just multitasking. Takes time for heat to permeate.”
Kaju could have made two whole separate entrées in the same amount of time. Plus dessert. I had a lot of catching up to do.
“I liked your miso soup,” I added shyly. “It was good.”
“I usually make better,” she replied softly.
“I mean, all you did was forget to make the dashi.”
“I usually don’t…”
I decided to stop talking. I quietly handed her a freshly washed dish. She quietly accepted.
Just when we’d finished and were wiping the sink dry, the president appeared in the kitchen. “All right, before my parents return, we ought to finish our baths. Guests first. That means you.”
“You sure?” I asked.
“Of course. We’re all here for you, after all. Though seeing as there are so many of us, could I ask you to share one with Hiroto?”
“What?!” blurted Tiara-san. Not me. Tiara-san. She shuffled toward the president, trembling like a leaf. “I-is that even legal?! What about public decency?!”
“What about it?”
Red swallowed Tiara-san’s face. “Th-th-they’re going to be alone together! In their birthday suits!”
“Well, yes. Baths are typically taken in the nude.”
Facts and logic win again.
“I really don’t mind,” I spoke up.
“Nukumizu-san?!” Tiara-san squealed. “Wait.” Her trembling softened. Her eyes narrowed. Conviction filled them. “I will join you!”
This was getting out of hand.
Just as my patience was wearing thin, Sakurai-kun appeared, drawn by Tiara-san’s octave-shattering voice cracks, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Basori-chan. You can’t join us in the bath.”
“B-but I have to see—I mean, I have to monitor you to ensure nothing obscene is afoot!”
While I pondered the viability of just tying her up and leaving her in a broom closet for the night, Sakurai-kun was unfazed. The avatar of composure and tolerance itself. “I promise we will be fine. You take one with Hiba-nee. How does that sound?”
Tiara-san gasped. “A bath?! W-with the president?!”
She wrapped her arm around her shoulder. “Is that all you wanted? I’d be happy to oblige, Basori-kun.”
“I…! Um!” The trembling returned. Tiara-san became as a mouse.
“Hurry,” Sakurai-kun hissed in my ear. “While we still can.”
“R-right.” So this was how to handle her. Well played, Sakurai-kun. I should have taken some notes.
***
I shuddered as a droplet of water fell from the ceiling and onto my shoulder. The Houkobarus really were old school. A tiled bathroom? But hey, the bath itself was big enough to easily fit us both.
I’d finished washing off and was taking my turn to soak first. Man, did I need it after today. I sank down to my shoulders, stealing glances at Sakurai-kun’s back as he cleaned himself. The guy was slim. Which was how many people (typically Yanami) described me too, but for Sakurai-kun it was like, something with his bone structure. It simply wasn’t masculine. He wasn’t gonna turn around and turn out to be a flat-chested girl this whole time, was he?
He looked over his shoulder at me, summoning me back from my mental library of light novel scenarios. “You’re president of the literature club, right? Seems like a lot of work.”
“Maybe. Can’t be worse than keeping everyone on the student council in line.”
I saw him grin in the mirror at that. “They’re good people, really. Just need a little push in the right direction sometimes.”
A “little” sounded like an understatement to me. As far as the president went, it seemed to me she needed a leash more than anything. She and Sakurai-kun had gone to the same junior high, but just how had she survived at Tsuwabuki without him for that first year?
“The president was in track, right? Mind if I ask what made her quit?”
“It’s nothing that dramatic. No injuries or anything. She’d just done it for three years, made it to high school, and decided to put her all in the student council.” He held up a basin of water and dumped it over his body. “Granted, I’m sure there’s more to it than that. But sometimes you just need an excuse to make a change, and for Hiba-nee that happened to be high school.” He stepped into the bath and sank down next to me. “Why so interested in her all of a sudden?”
“More wondering what’s motivating her to go so far for us. I mean, I know she respects Yakishio and all that, but still.”
“Yakishio-san. I’ve heard a lot about her.” Sakurai-kun locked his fingers together and stretched. “I think maybe, looking back, she was one of the excuses. Not to bash her or anything. Not at all.”
Change. For many, clubs represented a second life, but we all had to retire eventually. For many, the excuse for change came with graduation. But not for all of us. Yakishio’s potential as a genuine athlete wasn’t for me to speak on, but to her teammates, she was probably one such person.
Sakurai-kun peeled his bangs from his forehead. “I meant to thank you, by the way. I haven’t seen Hiba-nee this excited since her running days.”
“Well, that makes me feel a little better about making her help me for so long. I was worried I was seriously pushing my luck with this sleepover idea.”
He smiled reassuringly. “She’s having a blast, I assure you. Hiba-nee never sets foot in the kitchen.”
Overturned pots of boiling liquid weren’t a daily occurrence then. Small reliefs.
“You look after her a lot, huh?” I asked.
“We’re cousins. Close ones. I could say the same thing about you and any one of the lit club members. Me? I could never go to this much trouble for just one person.”
“If you ask me, holding the entire student council together with those three sounds way harder than anything I put up with.”
Sakurai-kun chuckled. “Wanna swap places and find out?”
“What, like, I do student council work?”
“And I be the literature club president. You’ve got three other first-years, is that right?”
I pondered that idea. Quelling Tiara-san’s episodes. Staying Shikiya-san’s wandering hands. Keeping the president alive.
We looked at each other. The same two words came to our lips at the same time. “No thanks.”
***
It was time for a strategy meeting. Tension mingled with sweet-smelling shampoo in the big room we’d gathered in. President Houkobaru had changed into pajamas and tied her hair back. Her flushed cheeks bore a tinge of pink. It never stopped surprising me how objectively pretty she was.
But staring was rude, so I turned my gaze down to the slug splayed out on the floor.
“You good there, Tiara-san?” I asked the creature.
“She got a little lightheaded in the bath,” the president said. “Tiara-kun, how are you feeling?”
“D-don’t call me Tiara,” she croaked in feeble protest. The tissues stuffed up her nostrils told me everything I needed to know about what happened in that bath. Not even her precious herbs had saved her.
Both she and Sakurai-kun were in their pajamas too. If this was a pajama party, I hadn’t gotten the memo and was not dressed appropriately. I noticed the sliding, paper door cracked open. Leering through was a pair of pale white eyes.
“Why didn’t…I get a bath buddy?” Shikiya-san silently stumbled in wearing her own nightly ensemble. It was a lacy nightgown with an extremely generous window of cleavage and oh my god was that underwear? It wasn’t exactly a negligee, though it definitely looked it. No, I knew this. According to my gacha, this was, to be precise, a babydoll.
“Senpai, what are you wearing?!” Tiara-san flew up from the floor and flung her hands in front of Shikiya-san’s chest.
Folly.
Shikiya-san, with opportunistic dexterity, pulled her into an embrace. “Tiara-chan… So lewd.”
“Th-they’re touching me! They’re touching my face!”
Hm. Should I have been watching this? Probably not. I was strictly free-to-play. Sakurai-kun had the same idea and looked away with me.
President Houkobaru produced a projector. “Now, let’s begin with a review. Hiroto, the lights.”
Really? Right now? During, uh, that going on in the background? Sure. All right. She was the boss. The lights went out, and footage of me running played against the flat, white wall.
“This is where you were at yesterday,” the president commentated. “Changing your starting position to a standing posture has helped your initial acceleration, and your upper body is much more stable. However…” She slowed the footage with her phone. Seeing me fumble through the finish line was pretty cringeworthy, I had to admit. “The final stretch is still a sticking point. You focus too much on speed and your form suffers. Your stamina is a concern as well.”
“Right. Hence my idea,” I said.
“Holding your breath in the last spurt. It’s certainly showed results in your form and time both.”
“I think it’s worth carrying into the actual race.”
The president frowned. Clearly, she didn’t share my enthusiasm. “I’ve implemented the same strategy in my starts before, but under careful supervision, and never lightly. It’s dangerous to work your body in unnatural ways before you’re comfortable with the way it works and moves. You could injure yourself.”
“Er, okay. Then maybe we forget it.”
Fine by me. I responded well to authority.
“No, actually. Out of the five races we ran, in the two you held your breath, you matched my pace. I see no reason you shouldn’t try it during the real thing, seeing as it won’t be prolonged.”
“Wait, really?”
She nodded. “That said, only during the final five meters. But you run those five meters as hard as you can. Your ankle sprains, you run. Your heart stops, you run.”
Bit of a jump there.
We kept watching and analyzing for a while. Around the time Sakurai-kun brought tea, I chanced a glance Tiara-san’s direction. There was no more fight in her. A limp corpse in Shikiya-san’s bosom.
“We’ve done all we can,” the president announced. “The rest is up to you.” She smiled and took a sip of her tea.
I took a gulp myself before returning her smile with an awkward one of my own. “It’s a shame I never ended up overtaking you. Never hit my goal.”
“Oh? I thought you knew. Anytime you came close to passing me, I sped up.”
What? No. No, I had not known that. “Wait, so you’re telling me…”
“You hit your goal long ago. It all hinges on how well Yakishio-kun’s done the same.” She downed the rest of her tea. “Now, we’ve an early morning. Rest up and sleep well for tomorrow. Use the futon in the closet.”
“Right. Let me get that.”
I checked the clock as I did. It was only just past eight. Bit early for my taste, but, well I wasn’t gonna argue. I responded well to authority.
***
Unfamiliar shadows crept across an unfamiliar ceiling. I’d fallen asleep surprisingly fast. And woken up correspondingly early.
It was two in the morning. Next to me, Sakurai-kun was still snoozing soundly. There’d been a whole commotion over us sharing the room, thanks to someone whose name rhymed with “diara,” but frankly, I was ready to forget that whole episode.
Beyond the thin shoji sliding door, insects buzzed and hissed. Try as I might to let them lull me back to sleep, I was wide awake. Thinking about the race didn’t exactly put me in a restful state of mind either. So I gave up. I grabbed my phone for light and headed for the bathroom.
As I passed through the foyer on my way back, I remembered something the president had told me at dinner. “We don’t lock our doors around here. Not ever.”
It was apparently a point of pride for her. One not even Sakurai-kun seemed to understand. I certainly didn’t. But the point was, the front door was probably unlocked.
I slipped on my shoes and slid it open.
***
Wasn’t every day you got to go on late-night walks in unfamiliar places. The prospect made me giddy.
At the end of my curiosity, I found myself standing on a stretch of sand. The southern edge of Toyohashi City faced the Pacific, and the coast ran from Hamamatsu, one prefecture over, all the way along the Atsumi Peninsula, like one big beach. Along that, my current location was a place called Omotehama, fifteen minutes from the Houkobaru residence. The sand beneath my feet reminded me of the beach Yakishio had tugged me along last summer. But there’d been a few more people at that one. And less stars. Here, they drowned the sky from zenith to horizon.
The path had been steep. About five times along the way, I considered turning back. I was glad I hadn’t. The view made it worth it.
I continued toward my destination: a large, white something standing at least three meters tall. It looked like someone had taken a big slice of bread and stuck it in the ground. Carved into it was a hole shaped like a thought bubble, like out of a comic. The closer I got, the bigger it seemed to grow. The cloud-shaped hole was a bit above me, so I had to crane my neck just to see through it. The stars it captured twinkled gently, comfortable in their frame. I wished I had someone to share the sight with.
Imagine that. Me, of all people, wishing I had company. But I was fine with the loneliness. It was just one of those nights.
But then a plap broke my silent solitude. On the other side of the hole, a hand was gripping the edge. I flinched as another one shot up. They quickly slid back down, though. Lifelessly.
“Too…high.”
I knew that breathy rasp. I circled the thing to find a girl sitting against it, hugging her knees. Moonlight fell on her wavy hair and wan skin.
“What are you doing here?”
“Trying to climb… It’s not going well.” I figured as much, knowing Shikiya-san. Also, that didn’t answer my real question. She patted the ground next to her. “Don’t stand. Sit.”
“Uh, sure.” I did, leaving ample space between the two of us. She patted again. I hesitated. Then scooted. “So, uh, what are you doing here?”
“Wondering…why we came here.”
As in, she followed me?
“Sorry. Did I wake you?”
“Night is my element.”
I didn’t doubt that for a second. She leaned her head back and looked up at the stars. Her lips parted, betraying a hint of surprise in an otherwise unreadably blank expression. “Pretty. Is this why?”
“Not specifically. Just went for a walk. Couldn’t sleep.” I looked up with her. “Kinda glad for that now, though.”
“Me too.”
We didn’t talk anymore. But we sat. And we looked. I wasn’t even sure at what. I didn’t know constellations or anything. But I could tell they weren’t mine. They transported me. Made me imagine a life beyond my own. Think of a world outside my status quo.
I looked at Shikiya-san. Her eyelashes, still so long and full, flitted in the salty breeze. Her eyes—her eyes struck me. They were different. It took me some time to pinpoint why, but then it hit me.
She didn’t have her color contacts in.
The stars swam in them, islands of light in pools of faint hues. Hues I couldn’t quite make out in the darkness. Streaks glistening on the waves cast lifelike ripples in them.
Suddenly, I saw myself. Shikiya-san noticed me staring. “What?”
“Oh, um, just realized you don’t have your contacts in.”
“I take them out…when I sleep.” She hid them behind her bangs. “I…don’t like when people stare.”
“S-sorry!”
She wasn’t wearing makeup either. Come on. Guys should know better. That was a litigable offense right there. I hung my head in shame.
Something tickled my ear suddenly. Breath.
“Can I ask a question?” Shikiya-san whispered.
“Y-yeah! Sure! Hit me!”
“Why do you…try so hard?”
She wasn’t threatening legal action? Well. All right.
“You mean at my race with Yakishio?”
She nodded. “Do you…like her?”
“Huh?! No, not like that!” I cleared my throat. Lecture time. “I mean, okay, so here’s the thing about that question, right? It means a lot of things. Guys and girls? People jump to conclusions about them. But me and Yakishio? Just friends. That’s all. She’s been going through some stuff, questioning what she wants, and the point of this race is to kinda help push her toward a decision, so it’s not about me, like, trying to get with her or score brownie points or anything so much as it is just helping her out, because, I mean…” I paused to breathe. “We’re friends. And I’m president of the lit club.”
I put on the best, most charismatic leader-face I could.
But Shikiya-san just stared. “I see. You’re nice…to everyone.”
Was that a compliment? It sounded like a compliment. “Eh. I dunno about that.”
“You tried hard…for me too.” It seemed like she had more to say but fell silent.
“Senpai?”
“I’m gonna go.” She staggered to her feet.
“I’ll join you.”
“I know the way.”
She shuffled off. Weird. Was it something I said? I started to chase after her, until she came to a certain part of the path and froze. Looking up. It had been steep going down. Deductive reasoning could then tell us what going up would be.
Indeed. Steep.
“You, uh, gonna be able to handle that?” I asked.
Shikiya-san whirled around to me and held her arms out. “Uppies.”
“Huh?! I-I dunno, are you sure that’s a good idea? I’m not very strong, and, well, I’ve never lifted anyone bigger than my sister.” Shikiya-san simply grunted and thrust her arms out again. “Okay. Okay. What if we did piggyback?”
She considered my offer and eventually accepted. Granted, it wasn’t happily. Still, negotiations were successful.
One last workout. On the bright side, it did wonders for knocking me out when I got back to bed.
***
March 27th. Saturday. Eight o’clock in the morning. Tsuwabuki athletics field. Twenty days since the initial throwing of the gauntlet, and here we were.
In front of me stood the three members of Team Yakishio. Yanami, standing in the middle for God knows what reason, flashed a cheeky grin. “All by yourself? What happened to the student council?”
“This is between me and her. Don’t need an audience. Yakishio, let’s make this a good—”
“Aww, did your girlfriend dump you?” Yanami interrupted. “Did she find out that your real name is Sneak-umizu, ya little sneak? This is our president, ladies and gentlemen. This is who’s leading the club into our second year of high school.”
She just kept going. The freak didn’t know how to shut up.
Sparing Yanami from the choice words I was about to give, Komari tugged her aside. “Y-Yanami. Shut up.”
“Wha— Komari-chan, but I’m still monologuing!”
“E-everyone take your positions. Yanami, y-you’re supposed to be the starter.”
“All right, all right already!”
Komari to the rescue. They grew up so fast.
I faced Yakishio again. She’d chosen her track uniform for today’s contest. The mist steaming off her body told me she was already warmed up and raring to go.
“I’m playing for keeps, Nukkun. Just so you know.”
“Just so you know, you’re gonna regret giving me that handicap.”
Yanami waved to us from the start line. We made our way over.
“Credit where it’s due,” Yakishio said. “Didn’t think you’d actually put that much effort into this.”
“A president looks after his club. You’re not going anywhere.”
“Oooh, someone’s confident.” She bumped her shoulder against me. “For what it’s worth, I did some thinkin’, and I realize all this is pretty stupid. But we’re here anyway, so I’m not going easy on you.” Her eyes darted away from me. A sudden change of disposition. “So, you spent the night somewhere else yesterday?”
“Huh?! Uh, why?”
She gave me a look. “The train you rode in on. You never come from that direction.”
She’d seen me on my way back from the president’s place. But what did I have to feel guilty over? Carrying Shikiya-san last night? Why? Just because I liked the way she felt against my back? Sue me.
“It’s not important,” I insisted. “Nothing happened.”
“Nothing happened, huh?” She bumped me again. Harder this time. Then she sped up. “I win this, you’re gonna spill all the beans. Every last one.”
More reasons not to lose. As if I didn’t have enough of those.
We came to the start line, where Yanami flashed her phone at us. “This app’s gonna tell you when you start. It’s gonna go ‘on your marks,’ and that’s when you get in position. Then it…wait, what’re you supposed to do on ‘get set’? When the heck do you actually start running?” Question marks abounded.
“Yana-chan,” Yakishio mercifully interjected, “‘on your mark’ means come up to the starting line. ‘Get set’ is when you get into position. Then the pistol goes off.”
“What she said.” Leave it to Yanami to act smug about knowledge that wasn’t hers. “Nukumizu-kun, you go at the first pistol. Then two and a half seconds later, the second one will go off, and that’s when Lemon-chan goes. Whoever crosses the finish line first is the winner.” Yanami pointed down the track where Komari waited with her phone camera at the ready. “Everyone got that? Then come on up.”
Yakishio had one of those starting blocks to kick off from. She was serious about this. “Good whenever.” She started shaking her hands and feet.
“You sure you don’t wanna cheat?” Yanami asked, staring at her phone screen. “Not like Nukumizu-kun’d notice if we fudge things a little.”
“He will if you talk about it right in front of him,” I quipped. But then it hit me. This was a trap. She was trying to get into my head. Say and do stupid things so I’d lose focus. Her specialty.
Take that dried fish she’d just pulled out of her pocket, for example. Part of the conspiracy to make me lose.
“What?” she mumbled. “You want some?”
Trap. It was all a trap. Focus. I shook my head and started lightly stretching. “I’m ready to—”
“On your marks,” a woman suddenly stated in perfect English.
“Oops,” Yanami said. “Pushed a button. Y’all get ready!”
Yakishio and I looked at each other before scrambling into position.
“Get set,” the distressingly fluent woman continued.
I lowered my hips and breathed in.
The pistol went off.
I didn’t think. I just bolted. A clean start. My tension was gone, and I could feel myself slipping through air quicker than normal. I felt good. Better than I’d ever felt doing this run before. I could do this.
But then the second pistol came.
There were ten meters at least between the two of us. I wouldn’t be able to feel her gaining on me for a while, but I could definitely feel something bearing down on me from behind. I ignored it and ran, just like I’d practiced for so long.
Fifty meters. I could feel it now. Not just “something.” Her. She was gaining—and gaining fast. That speed couldn’t be human. Her footsteps, quick and measured, grew closer with every strike against the ground. I broke into a sweat, and not just from fatigue. How far ahead was I? Could I even keep this pace?
Twenty meters left. The footfalls were upon me now. I could hear her breathing.
Only in the last five. Only in the last five, the president had told me.
We crossed the ten-meter mark. I held my breath, mustered every ounce of strength I had left, and sent it all to my legs. I gritted my teeth as every muscle screamed at my brain that I was definitely doing something wrong. I told them to keep going anyway.
Yakishio came into my periphery. It was neck and neck. The finish line was so close, but she was so fast.
I flew past it just as everything went white, Yakishio right there with me. The wind breaking around her engulfed me a second later.
My legs gave out and I collapsed. Who had won? I looked around, searching for confirmation, my vision spotty. Yakishio, shoulders heaving as she caught her breath, peered down at Komari’s phone.
“Whew, now that’s a photo finish. Slow it down, Komari-chan. Replay it.” Yakishio ruffled her hair and took a gulp of air from a can of oxygen.
“Who… Who…wuh…?” I couldn’t even speak right. I tried to stand, and my legs said no.
Yakishio took one look at me and freaked. “Dude, you look sick! Here, oxygen!”
She tossed the can to me. It went right past my hand and into my face. I whited out.
***
I woke up in a dim room. I recognized the marks on the ceiling. Took me a bit to figure out where I was and what had happened. That being the nurse’s office, and that I’d passed out. I was in one of the beds. All I remembered post-race was taking a can of oxygen square in the forehead.
“Oh. You’re up,” someone said gently.
I tried to sit up. Only managed to wince and grunt.
Yakishio, sitting in a chair by my bedside, supported my back. “What hurts? Your head?”
“Not my head. Well, my forehead, yeah, but mostly everything else. I…” I looked at her.
She was in her uniform. She pressed her hand against her chest and smiled, relieved. “Thank god. I dunno how I’d sleep at night if I killed you by oxygen can.”
Good news for her beauty rest.
“So, uh, the race. Who won?”
Yakishio pursed her lips. “Do you have any idea how much trouble it was carrying you all the way here? You better be glad Konuki-sensei was here on standby just in case.”
“Konuki-sensei’s here?” I whipped my head around. “Where?”
She smacked my forehead. Ow. “Chill. She stepped out.” Crossing her long legs, Yakishio shot me a stern look. “I’m serious. You better thank Komari-chan and Yana-chan later. Komari-chan nearly broke her phone when she dropped it running to you, and Yana-chan kept trying to force-feed you fish. It wasn’t easy getting her to stop.”
No rest for the lit club president, even unconscious. I was immensely grateful for Yakishio’s assistance in regard to Yanami.
“Where are they now?”
“Who knows. Maybe they read the room. Gave us some privacy.”
Just couldn’t stop teasing me, could she? I started to banter back but stopped when I noticed the look in her eye. “So who won?” I remembered practically falling over the finish line, but not much else.
Yakishio prodded my cheek teasingly. “I was seriously counting on you going full slug. Totally crapping out so I could snag a win by default.” She tried to look upset—it wasn’t very convincing. “The go-home club would’ve been fun, y’know.”
“So I…?”
She dropped the act and grinned. “This is all your fault, Nukkun.”
I’d done it. She was staying with the lit club. She was staying with the track team. And she had to give them both a hundred and ten percent. That was the deal. Everything I wanted, I got. But it was Yakishio’s burden to bear. So I’d had to wait until now to ask the question burning inside me all this time.
“Would you have really quit if I lost?”
“I said I was serious.” There was no hesitation in her answer. She looked off into the distance. “I had all these plans to dump it all and live life like one of those cliché high school girls TV and manga like to pretend are real. Hang out with friends. Go out to eat together. Talk about boys. Study for tests.” Her eyes shut. “Maybe fall in love again. At some point.”
A lull came, quiet and thoughtful. Filling it, imaginations of a different world. A world where the only numbers Yakishio cared about weren’t times but test scores. Where she would giggle and whisper to friends about relationships. Eventually find the courage to reach out. To join hands with and walk the path of life with someone. A boring world, but an idyllic one romanticized by the likes of teenage dramas.
Yakishio quietly opened her eyes. “I’d have to seriously start considering cram school. Can’t get into college on a sports scholarship if I quit. Maybe the one Chiha-chan and Mitsuki go to.”
Okay, that was just masochistic. “They’re dating. Wouldn’t that just be awkward?”
“Uh-huh. That’s what you’d be there for.”
“Says who?”
She shrugged. “Says me. That was gonna be the plan if I won. We go-homers gotta stick together.”
“Is that part of the club description?” For such a simple task as going home, that “club” sure went pretty hard by the sound of it.
“I can’t just insert myself between them. If it was the both of us, though, then it’s just friends gettin’ together.”
“I’m not so sure that’d keep them from getting lost in each other’s eyes, if I’m being honest.”
Yakishio gave a toothy grin. “That’s when I get to complain.”
“And I have to listen, I’m guessing.”
“I’d listen to you too. Goes both ways.”
This was too complicated a scenario for going to cram school. All for what? Subjecting ourselves to near daily PDA? So we could gripe about it together? I could imagine it. Us, walking home after lessons, gagging, throwing all kinds of shade, calling them names.
“That…actually sounds pretty fun.”
Fun. In a mundane kind of way. The kind of life for teenagers like us.
Yakishio leaned forward, eyes twinkling. “Doesn’t it? We could be like, a squad, us four. But they’d be all over each other twenty-four-seven.”
“A nightmare.”
“Imagine the roasts, though. Forget lessons, I’d be thinking up new ones all day.”
“Sounds like a waste of money.”
We looked at each other and laughed. We laughed at this fake future that could have been.
“You’ll have plenty of cliché moments. Better you’re not around me so much anyway,” I said. “Ups your odds of finding a boyfriend.”
“I mean, it’s not like I’m dying to get one ASAP or anything.” Her eyes darted around the room. “Like, Mitsuki was so special. And he still is. I don’t think I’d wanna date anyone unless I loved them like I loved him. At the very least.”
“How’re you gonna find him with me glued to you?”
“I’m just saying, like, we’ve still got two more years and all.” Yakishio hopped up and sat on my bed. It groaned, the subtle smell of deodorant and perfume mingling about my nose. She pinched a lock of hair hanging around her ears and played with it. “Plenty of time to grow it out. Right?”
She cast her eyes down shyly. With every breath, the ribbons on her blouse rose and fell, and the bed creaked.
“Uh, I mean, the captain has a ponytail,” I said. “Grow it out if you want.” Suddenly, Yakishio froze. Several moments later, she let out a long, heavy breath. “What?”
“That right there, Nukkun.” She stood back up, put her hands together, and stretched.
“That right wh—”
“Nowhere. Coulda had a life where I studied, got into college the old-fashioned way, and found me someone special. But it’s all what-ifs now.” She trotted over to the window and threw the curtains open. “A deal’s a deal. I’m not quitting the track team. I’m not quitting the lit club.” The beaming sun lit up her profile, and the childlike grin that adorned her face when she turned to me. “But I am gonna switch to middle-distance.”
“Huh? But—”
She silenced me with a shake of the head. “I got all jammed up thinking about other people before. But I’m going all in now. All in on me. Not betting on anyone else but myself, ’cause I’m gonna win, and I’m gonna keep on winning. And no one’s gonna give me crap or call me selfish, because they’re not the ones winning. If they do, well, I’ll just beat them too.” Her smile never faltered. Never wavered as she spoke. “Truth is, I don’t need clichés. Don’t want ’em.”
This smile wasn’t a mask. It wasn’t that of the resigned. From the depths of her endless, brown eyes poured resolve, all hints of uncertainty purged from their abyss.
“Gunning for nationals then, huh?”
“Nationals?” She scoffed. “Please.”
“No?”
“The nationals are coming to me, Nukkun. They’re mine.”
Hers? What, was she going for first in every event or something? That was insane. Yeah, right.
She pointed at me. Straight at me. “Better not blink, or you just might miss it.”
Literature Club Activity Report, Special Issue: Yanami Anna—I Choose You
I’m standing in front of the usual convenience store. But I don’t go inside. I can’t. All the signs are down, and there are sheets over where the windows were.
“Hey, A-ko-san. Place go out of business?” XX-kun asks like the idiot he is. He needs everything explained to him.
I saw it. Last night, they were carrying in new shelves. They’re not out of business. Just renovating. When they come back, they’ll be better than ever. While I’m handling him, I take out three different kinds of fried chicken from my bag—much to his surprise. I don’t expect him to understand.
They took down the big sign by the road too, so there’s a chance the store reopens as an entirely different chain. So I made sure to get up bright and early. I did the rounds and went to three different ones, taking samples of their boneless chicken from each. I’m gonna use them to try and predict what it’s going to be.
First up. My first bite is a blast of spice, but not so powerful that it kills the taste. The aromas exit through my nose, which are then replaced by meaty, umami flavors. I have my answer.
But this is for science, and good science is fair, so I give the second chicken a shot. My first impression: crisp. But it’s immediately tempered by the juicy flesh within. This is it. Final answer.
But the third’s getting cold. I must act fast. This one has a crisp look to it too, but the breading is deceptively smooth, and the unique textures mingle like a waltz in my mouth. Every bite is something new. I could chew for hours and never get bored. This is it. This is it.
Unfortunately, they can’t all be it. This demands a second trial.
XX-kun stares at me. Is he hungry? What a glutton. But he does give me food a lot, so I decide to be nice just this once. I tell him he can have a bite.
He shakes his head. “Can’t eat after people. I’ll pass.”
You try to be a good person. Can you believe this guy?
I press all of my chicken together and bite into all three at once. Because I’m angry now. This must be how kings eat.
XX-kun doesn’t stop staring. “Where are you gonna eat breakfast now?”
At home, obviously. I only started coming here because I wanted to walk to school with ***-kun, but he’s dating J-ko-chan now, so what’s the point anymore? But XX-kun’s got this sad puppy dog look on his face that makes me want to mess with him.
I stuff the rest of the chicken into my mouth. It’s more fun to leave him hanging. All will be made clear once they reopen.
***
The day after the race was the last Sunday of March. I was alone, lazily watching clouds pass at Tsuwabuki’s south gate. Spring was on the wind—not a hint of winter remained. Like it or not, time marched on.
Naturally, I wouldn’t have brought my aching body all this way if not for a good reason. Tamaki-senpai and Tsukinoki-senpai were stopping by one last time before they finally left Toyohashi.
“Look at Mr. Early Bird.” Yanami came up and joined me, little strips of dried kelp, kombu, gripped in her hand. No doubt the fad kind for diets. Here we went again.
“Er, Yanami-san, isn’t that the kombu they use for making dashi? You’ll crack a tooth on those.”
“It’s fried chicken.”
I did a double take. It was not. It was kombu. “Is the fried chicken in the room with us right now?”
“I’m not crazy, dude. People can burn their tongues on cold spoons. It’s all about self-suggestion. If you believe hard enough, anything can be fried chicken. Or maybe beef jerky.”
By that logic, would her imaginary carbs not also come with imaginary calories?
She tore a piece off, glaring at me. “So. Yesterday at the nurse’s office. What’d you two talk about?”
“I told you over the phone. She’s switching to middle-distance but aiming high.”
“So stop telling me again and gimme what I’m asking for.” Ah, silly me. How could I have misinterpreted? She ripped off another piece with her front teeth. “She asked us to give you guys some privacy. Ain’t no way that’s all you two talked about.”
“I mean, it was. We just chatted about stuff. Nothing important.”
“Then spill it. I said no head starts, Nukumizu-kun, and I meant it.”
Yanami was more annoying than usual today, and that was saying something. I brushed her off and thought back to that moment we’d shared. Yakishio had been different. But “different” was relative. Everything was a part of her. What I witnessed was a glimpse. A sliver of the greater whole that was her identity. What might I have seen, I wondered, had I dared to take a closer look?
I had only just scratched the surface of the girl called Yakishio Lemon.
“You’re hiding something,” Yanami growled, eyes narrowed.
“I’m telling you, it’s nothing. Yakishio said she’d make it today, yeah? Wonder where she is.”
“Guilty! He’s guilty! Only guilty people change the subject!”
I ignored her. Meanwhile, a tiny thing in a Tsuwabuki uniform scuttled over from campus. “Y-you guys are so loud.”
“Komari-chan!” Yanami whined. “Something totally happened yesterday! Nukumizu-kun’s totally guilty and he won’t admit it!”
Komari huffed. “Th-the only thing he’s guilty of is b-being spineless.”
“Okay, fair, actually.” That calmed her down. Which left a bad taste in my mouth.
“You seen Yakishio?” I asked Komari, partly to clear the air.
She nodded. “Sh-she’s finishing the journal. She’ll be here later.”
“Oh, Lemon-chan wrote something!” Yanami put her hands together excitedly.
She’d been the last one. Hers was the only draft we were waiting on to finally finish up the club journal we planned to give our senpai as one final parting gift. Honestly, I’d half given up on the idea. This was good news.
“Look!” Yanami started waving. “They’re here!”
A minivan pulled up and stopped next to us.
“Where’s the red carpet?” Tsukinoki-senpai jabbed as she hopped out of the driver seat. She wore a pair of straight fit jeans and a neutral-toned, collared shirt. A towel hung around her neck.
“Can you just be normal and thank them, Koto? We appreciate everyone coming out, guys.” Tamaki-senpai stepped down from the passenger seat, shaking his head like he was her handler or something. Granted, he probably was.
We shook hands while the girls hugged.
“Heard you won the race,” he said.
“With a handicap, to be fair.”
He glanced at the girls then leaned in and lowered his voice. “I won’t pry about what happened next or anything, but…”
“Nothing happened.”
“Hey, what’s important is that everyone’s happy. Ain’t none of my business.”
“Nothing happened.”
Happy. What had Yakishio gained from all this that she didn’t have before? Was she happy? I didn’t know. But so long as we lived, we would do so at the expense of others. There would always be winners and losers. Inevitably, we would hurt each other. Steal from each other. Sometimes the victims would be people we cared about. But we had to carry on. Yakishio had decided to carry on.
“Take good care of them, man.” He hit me on the back. It didn’t hurt. I wished Yakishio were here to take notes.
“And you make sure your girlfriend stays out of trouble.”
“That, I can’t promise.”
We laughed at our mutual suffering. This wasn’t our final meeting. Far from it. It was actually our first. Not as schoolmates, just as guys. A couple of humans, sharing a chuckle. It was scary, to be honest, renovating a relationship. But also exciting in a way.
“Yakishio-san still missing?” he asked.
“She’s, uh, finishing something up.” I looked back at campus just in time to see birds scatter. Another flock, closer to us, did the same.
Yakishio came bolting around a corner, a stapled bundle of papers in her grasp. “Sorry! I’m here! I’m here! This is for you guys! It’s special! Just for you!” Her sweat glistened in the sun, but it paled in comparison to the smile on her face.
“You made a journal? For us?” Tsukinoki-senpai timidly took a copy.
“You too, Tamaki-senpai!”
“Thanks,” he said. “Wow. I don’t know what to say.”
Tsukinoki-senpai removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “God, you guys, I told myself I wouldn’t cry.” But the tears quickly dried up as she read the table of contents. “Komari-chan. Did you flip my ship again?”
Komari giggled sinisterly. “M-maybe.”
Her partner in brain poison sneered. “I look forward to discussing this with you later. At length.”
“S-same.” Komari matched her expression, venom for venom.
Tsukinoki-senpai glanced at her watch then turned to me. “Welp. The club’s officially all yours, President Nukumizu. I’m off to cry over grades and try not to get held back in a brave new world.”
“I’m excited for you,” I said. “Not the getting held back part.”
“Glad one of us is.” She furrowed her brow anxiously. “I only made up my mind to leave Toyohashi last fall.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, well, I’m a locally grown sorta girl. Big part of me wanted to stick around, be that weirdo who pops into club every now and then just to freak you guys out.” She looked around at us. “But you all inspired me to aim a little bit higher. Be a senpai you can be proud of, I guess.” She laughed at herself, chuckling a few times, then dropped the smile and looked away.
Tamaki-senpai put a hand on her shoulder. “Time we got going, Koto. Guys, thanks again. Can’t wait to read what you all wrote.”
“Right. Yeah.” Tsukinoki-senpai looked back at us. “Thank you, everyone. Really. I’ll wait till after I’m done moving to read so I can really appreciate it.” When she did, she was smiling again. In her confident, devil-may-care way.
They climbed back into the van, waving. But just before shutting her door, Tsukinoki-senpai looked back and pointed at us. At all of us. “High school doesn’t last forever! Y’all live your lives, and live them to the fullest! No regrets!”
And then they were off. Just like that. We watched in silence as the minivan rumbled out of view. Not ten minutes they’d been here. And now they were gone. A clean break. I didn’t mind it.
“Anyway, think I’mma go run,” Yakishio piped up, ending the moment. “Wanna join, Yana-chan?”
Yanami’s eyes went wide as saucers as she bit into her second strip of kombu. “Why me?!”
“You’re eating kombu. Don’t people on diets eat kombu? Can’t do any better than running if you wanna lose weight!”
“Yeah, no. I’m not built for that. My knees have been a bit achy lately.”
Foreshadowing, that. I saw my chance to retreat and seized it.
I noticed Komari next to me. Had the same idea, I bet. I sidled closer and furtively handed her a small package.
She eyed me. “Wh-what?”
“Your birthday’s tomorrow, right? You got me something for mine. Fair’s fair.”
“Huh?!” she yipped.
I forced it into her hands. Turned away. “It’s just a key chain. Star sand. Don’t open the bottle.”
“Th-thanks…” She fidgeted for a while before going still. Did that mean she liked it? I hoped it did.
I started to walk away before this could get more awkward, but she grabbed hold of my blazer. “Yeah?”
“I-I’m… I’m mad. Just so you know.” Because I’d bought her present while on a date with Yakishio? Knew it. Stupid. Bad idea. She squeezed harder. “Y-you can’t just agree to stuff like this. Races. With the c-club at stake.”
Ah. That too. “But hey, all’s well that ends… You’re right. Sorry.”
If ever there was a time I deserved a bit of harsh language, it was now.
“A-and no more cheating,” she pouted.
Hey, the go-home club never happened. Mere allegations. I wasn’t gonna dig my own grave by trying to explain that, so I kept my mouth shut. Komari kept clinging.
That was when I noticed that we had an audience. “What’s going on back there? Who cheated?”
“Talking about the club, Yanami-san. Tell her, Komari.”
A little verbal abuse and we’d be back to business as usual. Misunderstanding begone.
“I-it’s between us,” she murmured. Fidgeting.
Why? Why would she do this to me? I could see the fuse shortening in Yanami’s eyes.
Yakishio peered over her at us. “Nukkun cheated? With me? Was yesterday cheating?!”
“Yakishio!” I blurted. “For the love of God!”
That set Yanami off. “I knew you two were up to something in the nurse’s office! Cheater! I told you no head starts, you little sneak!”
“Nothing happened, I swear! Say something, Yakishio!” I pleaded. I realized my mistake too late.
From over Yanami’s shoulder, invisible to her, Yakishio’s lips spread into an impish sneer. “I dunno, it was between us and all. Don’t really wanna go airing our dirty laundry, y’know?”
Komari’s grip on my blazer became a vice. “D-die.”
Why? Why were they like this?
Yanami thrust her half-eaten kelp at me. “Speak now or rest in peace.”
“T-talk. Then take a walk. Off a cliff.”
“Don’t worry, Nukkun. I’ll take our secret to the grave.”
I looked to the sky, for I had no allies on Earth. Cottony clouds looked down at our scuffle with impartial ambivalence. And I sighed. For this was my life now.
Maybe I should’ve thrown that race.
Literature Club Activity Report, Special Issue: Yakishio Lemon—Thump, Thump, Thump
Thump, thump, thump.
I’m fast. Faster than my friends. Faster than my Papa. My Mama likes it when I run fast. When I look behind me, she smiles at me. So I ran more. I ran faster.
Thump, thump, thump.
I like it when Mama smiles, so I ran with all sorts of people in a big city. Fast people. But I was always faster. I look behind me, and everyone smiles. Because I’m faster. So I try harder.
Thump, thump, thump.
I like it when everyone smiles, so I ran with even more people in an even bigger city. But they were faster. I ran hard, because I wanted to win, but they were faster. I tried. I tried hard. But they were faster. I’m scared to look behind me. What if they’re not smiling? That makes me sad, and it makes me cry.
A little turtle finds me one day while I’m crying in the shade. It wants to race. It’s slower than me. It keeps losing, but it still wants to race me. I ask it why. Is it not scared of losing? It says it is, but it runs anyway, because I’m crying.
We run a lot. Eventually, I forget to cry, and then I can run alone again.
I don’t look behind me anymore. I’m not scared. I don’t need to. I know they’re there. They’ve always been, and they want me to run. So I keep thump, thump, thumping along.
Epilogue: Tsuwabuki Second-Years
Epilogue:
Tsuwabuki Second-Years
THE FIRST WEEKDAY OF APRIL MARKED THE END OF our tragically short spring break. Down a lonely hallway in the west annex, I walked to the usual spot. We had recruiting plans to discuss.
Orientation for first-years was coming up, and we had to put our best foot forward, but putting the onus of public speaking on me or Komari was asking for trouble. Our alternatives were the queen bees, and Yakishio, who’d officially changed to middle-distance running, had track. Figured we probably wouldn’t see her around the club too much if she planned on sweeping nationals, so using her felt a little disingenuous to prospective members.
I stopped in front of the door for a moment, just to switch gears mentally. Then I opened it.
“Yana-chan, that’s mine! Hands off my protein!”
“But it helps you lose weight, don’t it? I like it. Chocolate flavor’s good.”
“Do you think it has negative calories?!”
Huh. Yakishio was here. Fighting with Yanami over a protein shake apparently.
“What is going on here?” I asked.
They both whipped around to face me.
“Yana-chan’s drinking my protein!” Yakishio shouted. “Tell her to stop!”
“I’m sorry, but you know we can’t leave food in here. She eats literally everything, Yakishio.”
Komari nodded at me from the corner she was quietly reading in. Her idea of support.
“Hold up, I don’t appreciate you guys treating me like some animal,” Yanami protested. “I don’t eat everything.” My mistake. She ate most things.
“Doesn’t the track team have their own room?” I asked. “Why not leave that kinda stuff there?”
Yakishio shot up, kicking her chair back. “Don’t even get me started! They’re the actual worst! Get this!” Uh-oh. Was there bad blood after her long hiatus? She pouted. “They have this rule where any protein without a name is free game. I literally just bought this stuff, and it’s already half gone!”
“That sounds like a problem with an easy solution.”
She crossed her arms and twisted her lips. “You don’t get it. When a girl needs protein, she needs protein. It’s an accessibility issue.”
“Yo, there’s vanilla too?” Yanami commented. “The powder’s pretty good. I could take this straight.”
“You can’t just eat the friggin’ powder!”
Accessibility wasn’t an issue for Yanami, that was for sure. I waited for them to finish their little spat before continuing.
“Anyway,” I said, “can we talk about recruiting? I’ve got an idea for how to present our club.”
Yanami blinked. Her cheeks were a little dusty. “Are we, like, doing something for that?”
“Maybe. Where’s…? Here we go.” I found the paper bag I’d stashed in my school bag and handed it to her.
“What am I looking at?”
“Stick that on your head for me.”
“Why?”
A not unforeseen complication. I next placed a pack of plain chicken meant for salads in front of her. She nodded, accepted, then put the bag on. Not a bad look.
“So what’s happening?” she asked.
“I want you to do the presentation with that on. Thoughts, everyone?”
Komari and Yakishio studied my work carefully.
“M-maybe add a ribbon,” Komari suggested.
“What if we wrote messages on it like a cast or something?” added Yakishio.
“I like both those ideas. Let’s work them in.” I jotted them down in my notebook.
Yanami tore the bag off and threw it down. “Is anyone gonna tell me why we’re censoring my damn face?! Do we need a parental advisory too?!”
“Listen, literature clubs are introvert central. If our potential members see you…”
“If they see me, what? Go on.”
I had to phrase this carefully, because if I told her the truth, it’d go straight to her head. I cleared my throat. “You’re our secret weapon, Yanami-san. Less is more. We tickle their imaginations. Wouldn’t you be dying to know what’s underneath?”
“I’d be freaked the hell out mostly, if I’m being honest.”
“This is the demographic we’re working with. Ideally, you’d keep it on for the entire recruitment period.”
“Yeah, no!”
Negotiations had broken down. Time for the prez to step up.
“Hey, this is actually comfy.” Yakishio laughed. “I’m blind!”
And now Yakishio had the bag. Great. Wait, we could work with this. On her, it’d double as a cover for her being on the track team.
“Would you be willing to go up in that?” I asked. “Yanami-san, you can be, like, in one of the wings clicking castanets or something for ambience.”
“Wait,” Yanami interjected. “I’ll do it.” It was spreading. She pulled it off Yakishio’s head then plopped it over Komari’s, who squawked in response. “Screw it. Everyone gets paper bags. Let’s just do that.”
Not to be a hypocrite, but that’d just be freaky.
“I like that!” replied Freak Two, clapping in agreement. “We can be the Masked Lit Club.”
“B-but why, though?” Komari shrieked as she stood, completely blinded by the bag still on her head, and promptly fell. Why was she always cutest when she was screaming?
I sat. Took a metaphorical step back. This month, we’d be a club of solely second-years. We had a responsibility to our senpai to make something of it, and it was a weighty one to be sure. But we’d always figured something out in the end. Somehow. We’d figure this out too. Somehow. In our own lit club way. Just like the next generation would.
Suddenly, everything went black.
“I like that look on you, Nukumizu-kun.”
“Really pulls it off, doesn’t he? Nukkun’s a natural.”
“D-don’t take it off.”
Huh. I kinda got it now. It was comfy. Then the giggling and the shutter clicks started. I sighed.
It was the first weekday of April. The first of many, many long ones to come.
Secret × Secret
Secret × Secret
SPRING BREAK. TSUWABUKI HIGH SCHOOL. AT a table in the broadcasting room, bathed in the last vestiges of the evening sun, sat two girls. One was clearly a student. The other, not so.
“Thank you for your invitation, Senpai,” said the one in the long, one-piece dress. Nukumizu Kaju, second-year of Momozono Junior High, lowered her head. Around her neck hung a visitor badge.
“I’ve been very interested in meeting you, Kaju-san. Please, drink your tea before it cools.” Forehead glistening, Asagumo Chihaya, gestured to the cup in front of Kaju.
She sipped from her mug with wandering eyes that betrayed her curiosity. “Are you in the broadcasting club?”
“No, but we’re on good terms. They were kind enough to give me a spare key.” Asagumo stood and approached a shelf, where she retrieved a large volume requiring both of her arms to carry. It thudded against the table as she placed it down.
Kaju studied the cover inquisitively. “Wiring diagrams?”
Asagumo nodded proudly. She opened it with a wide wave of her arm. “In here, you’ll find everything you need to know about Tsuwabuki’s electrical and sound systems!” She breathed deep, a portent of the avalanche of information to come. “Nothing has been more troublesome in my investigative work than finding ways to power my equipment, but this has been an absolute lifesaver! What’s more, look at this: By comparing past years’ diagrams, I’ve been able to suss out unused or obsolete connections. The applications of which are numerous. You could, for example, modify a speaker to function as a microphone or—” She swatted herself in the forehead. “Goodness, sorry about that. I can ramble sometimes.”
Kaju shook her head. “Please, do go on. I’m very interested in these applications.”
Asagumo lit up. “Oh, then excellent! But I must preface with a warning: This knowledge is not to be used for wrongdoing. My personal intentions are only to, shall we say, enhance my perception. Decidedly well-meaning, I assure you.”
“You’re of good character, Senpai, that much is clear to me. By the way, does this happen to be yours?” Kaju placed a small, black chip on the table.
On it was simply written, “No. 3.”
Asagumo-san stared hard at it. “Ah. I was wondering where that had gotten to. I’m surprised you… Where did you find it?”
“It’s the funniest thing. It was just sitting there in Momozono’s gardening club, just out of sight.”
“Now isn’t that just curious. Did I mention I have quail sablés? Have one.”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
They ate with wordless smiles. The flaky texture and maple aroma paired well with the tea.
“Asagumo-senpai,” Kaju spoke up, “has your ‘perception’ extended all throughout Tsuwabuki, by any chance?”
“Provisionally, in an experimental sense. With well-meaning intentions, of course.”
More wordless smiles. Well-meaning smiles.
“So you might, for example, happen to know where I was and what I was doing before meeting you here?”
“Only that which has reached one of my many ears. As I recall, you made a stop by the student council office.”
“Your ears hear quite well.” Kaju stuck her tongue out cutely.
“You spoke with Vice President Basori-san. Then a Tsuwabuki boy asked you out in the courtyard. After turning him down, you made your way to the west annex.” Asagumo maintained her perfect smile. “You spent an awfully long time alone in the literature club room. What preoccupied you, might I ask?”
A brief silence. Followed by a stony smile. “I dozed off. I’ve been very busy lately, you see.”
“Well, we can’t have that.”
“No, I suppose not.”
Smiles. More tea.
“One thing is clear to me,” Kaju said. “Your talents are certainly beyond me. I’ve studied abductive reasoning myself, but you, Senpai, are in a league of your own.”
“Ah. The practice of inferring probable conclusions from cursory observations. Tell me, what do you arrive at when you observe me?” Asagumo’s eyes shone with genuine interest.
Kaju examined her. “Well, I suppose you went out for food with your boyfriend in between your extracurriculars yesterday.”
“I did. We had dinner together. It was—”
“Curry udon,” Kaju interrupted. “Nowhere makes it like Segawa Honten, do they?”
Asagumo’s big, squirrely eyes got bigger and squirrelier. “How did you know?”
“There’s a stain on one of your ribbons,” Kaju replied with a grin.
She quickly looked down and inspected them. But she saw no stain. Not a one. “I’m sorry?”
Kaju tittered. “Got you.”
There was another moment of silence before Asagumo smiled again. “I see. A little prank, was it?”
“Just a little one. I happen to have a friend in the same cram school as you.”
“You certainly got me, Kaju-san. Would you like some more…?” As Asagumo stood, her expression wavered again.
Kaju followed her eyes, then put her hands together. “Ah, that amplifier happened to be left on when I came in. I took the liberty of switching it off for you.”
“That was very kind of you. And awfully silly of me.”
“You would have accidentally recorded our entire conversation!”
“What an accident that would have been.”
Asagumo giggled, and Kaju giggled. Their laughter sank into the artificial silence of the soundproofed room.
Asagumo poured another mug of steaming tea. “I think you and I will be the best of friends, Kaju-san. Don’t you?”
“I do, Senpai. I do.”
Asagumo offered her hand with a smile, and Kaju accepted. With a smile. And so friendship blossomed.
Afterword
Afterword
THE LOSERS ARE AN ANIME NOW! I TRULY HAVE NO words to express the gratitude I have for all of you for making this happen. I’ve been in touch with many of the staff, and let me assure you, it’s turning into something special. I can’t wait for you all to see it.
Anyway, back to our regularly scheduled acknowledgments. As you all know, a light novel is more than the words on the page. The accompanying illustrations bring it to life, an editor weaves it all together, and the result of multiple people’s hard work is what you hold in your hands now.
Iwaasa-san, for putting up with me and challenging my stubborn belief that Yanami was at all normal or an orthodox heroine in any way up till Volume 2. Imigimuru-sensei, for giving tangible form to the characters and the world they live in. I can’t thank either of you enough. The same goes for everyone working in the editing department who made this publication possible. From proofreaders to cover designers, there is truly no end to the people I owe this honor to.
Of course, at the end of this convoluted supply chain, is you, the reader. This upcoming anime of ours is just as much your doing as everyone else’s. Thank you. Truly, thank you.
I must extend that gratitude toward my fellow Mikawa locals as well. It was seriously surreal taking the same route I’d walk every day after school and seeing the losing heroines out on display at the old Seibunkan I used to frequent.
Speaking of miracles, the next phase of the Central Japan Railway collab is set to kick off in 2024! We owe it all to the success of that first phase, made possible only by those of you who participated, together with all the passionate staff who put it together. As if visiting Toyohashi couldn’t get any better, now you have even more incentive! I recommend checking out the special corner Melonbooks and Animate put together while you’re in the area!
Anywho, you know what I have to mention. As is tradition, I wrote another short story, just to bookend things. And this time, I did the unthinkable. I let them meet…
About the Author
About the Author
Takibi Amamori
We’re getting an anime! Walking losers! Talking losers! It’s happening!