I / Have \ A = Secret ×

GROWING UP, I always wanted to be the hero, not the love interest. I didn’t want pretty dresses—I wanted a transformation belt. Instead of letting the handsome prince protect me, I wanted to be the one to rise up and protect the weak from dark forces.

Now that I was in high school, I knew superheroes and villains didn’t actually exist…but deep down, I was still a kid at heart.

“Look out! Mickey’s gonna do her dropkick!”

No, I’m not!

 

They say life’s biggest struggles are interpersonal relationships, but for me, that stuff was easy-peasy. I could just look at the little seesaw beam floating at their chest, and as long as it was tilting to the “plus” side, I had done a good job. Sure, if I got a little too aggressive and they shut me down entirely, the beam would tilt to the “minus” side, but even then, I could still make up for it with the depth of my love! That was all there was to it. That said, it didn’t always work…but eh, who cares? I didn’t let it get me down.

So as you can see, I was never too worried about relationship stuff. If I was worried about something, it was generally about something…bigger.

We had just finished rehearsal for the day, and now it was time to change out of our costumes. “Mickey, your kicks are flawless,” an adorable voice called out to me from behind as I pulled on my blazer. I recognized who it was right away; I whirled around and latched on to her.

“Was I badass?”

“Mm-hmm. Next week’s performance is gonna be a hit.”

“Aww, thanks! Ha ha! You smell nice!”

At this, Elle smiled bashfully, and her beam tilted to the right—the plus side. Every time I saw my friends’ emotions lean positive, it made me so happy, I could feel my own beam tilting to match.

“Ooh, your tote bag is really cute. I like the polka dots.”

“Thanks! Yours, too. Is it new?” She smiled shyly.

See, Elle was a super-quiet girl, and in the past, if I tried to hug her, her beam would plummet into the negative. Fortunately, things between us had improved dramatically since then—something I was grateful for every single day. So yeah, nine times out of ten, my relationships with other people only ever brought joy into my life.

As for the name “Elle,” it was just a nickname I gave her—short for Elmo. She wasn’t bright red or anything, but her big googly eyes reminded me of a Sesame Street muppet. Likewise, my nickname was Mickey. Both of us were still very much Japanese, however. In my case, I got this nickname because I have a nasally laugh that sounds like some cartoon mouse. Allegedly.

But right as I was contemplating this—

“Gyah!”

Yelping, Elle nearly jumped out of her skin. Puzzled, I looked over…and spotted Looney standing directly behind her. Instantly, I knew she must have had something to do with it.

“I saw you two hugging and figured it was Tickle Me Elle Day,” Looney replied, pulling her hand out from under Elle’s skirt with a perfectly straight face. “Miyazato-chan, you’ve got a pimple on your butt.”

Scandalized, I pulled Elle into the safety of my arms. “Stop that! Don’t subject poor Elle to your lunacy!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Here, you can touch me back.” Looney lifted her arms into the air like she was raising the roof. It was pretty cringey.

“Just touch her and get it over with,” I advised Elle.

Then she reached out and lightly pinched Looney’s tummy fat. So modest! So cute! But that wasn’t enough to count as proper revenge, so I decided to set a good example.

“You gotta do it more like this!”

First, I touched Looney’s stomach. Then I ran my hands up the stitches of her favorite red sweater…but right as I arrived at her you-know-whats, I hastily drew my hands away.

“Wait, what the…?!”

“Was that enough for you? Okay then, let’s get going,” Looney shrugged, running a hand through her mid-length wavy hair. Before she could walk away, however, I grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and dragged her over to the corner of the room.

“Uh, Looney?! Why aren’t you wearing one?!” I hissed quietly, ensuring the boys couldn’t hear me.

“What are you talking about? Oh, you mean a bra? Uhhh…woman’s prerogative.”

What does THAT mean?! I must have silently asked her this exact question a thousand times since the day we first met. Meanwhile, Looney furrowed her brow like I was being weird for asking about it.

Interpersonal relationships were supposed to be easy…and yet…every now and then…this one particular lunatic drove me up the wall. She was impossible to read—I mean, take her beam, for example! Instead of tilting left or right, or even just maintaining its balance, her beam spun in circles. Constantly. It wasn’t something I needed to worry about, per se, but…looking at it made me feel stupid in more ways than one.

Evidently Looney the Lunatic didn’t pick up on my confusion, however, because she instead took the opportunity to dodge past me and escape outside.

 

Whoops! I was so distracted with the braless Looney situation, I forgot to mention the thing I’m actually worried about. Long story short: post-graduation stuff. Setting aside all the hyper-specific questions of which college, and which major, and which classes, I didn’t even know what I wanted to be when I grew up! Sometimes it was really aggravating not being able to see my own beam.

“If you major in literature, you’re gonna have a hard time finding work. You’d be better off spending those four years looking for a man who can take care of you.”

“What, and be a full-time housewife? No thanks, bro. I think I’d die of boredom.”

“If you don’t learn to address your teachers with respect, you won’t even make it to college in the first place!”

He looked angry, and yet, his beam was leaning positive. It was clear to me that he hated all this formal hierarchy nonsense just as much as I did, but because he was a teacher, he had a reputation to maintain.

“Yes, sir! As you wish, sir! I’ll keep it in mind, sir!”

And that was how the student-teacher conference ended.

Then Monday rolled around. I could never really think and do other stuff at the same time, so I was zoning out in front of my shoe locker when I heard a voice behind me.

“Morning! What’s up, Miki-chan? Find a love letter in your locker?”

“Oh, morning, Looney… Wait, what the…? Ha ha! Did you give yourself a style makeover?”

When I turned around, I spotted Looney standing there, her usual waves flat-ironed perfectly straight. Reflexively, I reached out and touched it—whoa, it’s so silky! Then for some reason, she took a step toward me, so I ended up touching something else, too. Instantly, I stopped caring about her hair.

“Looney, seriously! What if the boys find out?!”

“It’s so freeing, you have no idea. I feel like I could fly.”

Smoke will rise and lunatics will climb. That’s how the saying goes, right? As usual, her beam was spinning around wildly.

“So, did you get a love letter?”

“No, not this time.”

“So you’ve actually gotten one before? Impressive.”

“Will you shut up?! I’m trying to figure out life after high school, got it?”

“Oh, right. Still having trouble deciding?”

“Yeah…”

“Just do whatever you want. Who cares?” she shrugged, as if to suggest it was the most minor thing in the entire world and thus wasn’t worth thinking about.

Maybe she felt that way, but I sure didn’t! I couldn’t just do whatever I wanted; I needed to think about employability and all that other crap my teacher mentioned. I needed to make sure I wouldn’t regret my choices later on down the line. And it wasn’t easy to find a safe middle ground.

I pouted my lips at her. Then she walked right up to me, her expression dead serious. Startled, I reflexively stepped backwards, right out of my indoor shoes.

“What, you didn’t want me to kiss you? Guess I misread the signs. Here.”

She picked up my shoes and handed them to me. She wasn’t even embarrassed about what she almost did! People at school liked to call me “crazy” because of my tendency to kick my friends, but she was the real lunatic here, not me!

“It’ll be okay,” she said suddenly, as I was pulling my shoes back on.

“What will?”

“Your future. The Miki-chan I know and love would never make the wrong choices.”

See? Only a true lunatic could say that kind of crap with a straight face.

 

For the most part, everyone’s beams worked the same way. But every now and then, I’d find people whose beams subverted my expectations. In our class, there were three such people. Looney was one of them, and the other two were boys.

“Hey Mickey! We got permission to use the auditorium after school, so there’s gonna be a meetup for the main cast and crew,” said Boy #1 right before last period as he passed by my desk. Nickname: Zuka. See, he used to be really short, so with his androgynous features, he could’ve theoretically joined the Takarazuka Revue as their first-ever male member. That’s how I coined the nickname, anyway. But lately he’d had a growth spurt, and now the girls were all over him, which was kind of annoying.

Also annoying: no matter what I said to him, his beam never moved an inch. A balanced beam represented perfect composure, and whenever Zuka spoke to me, that composure never wavered. Pretty rude, if you asked me.

“Okay, cool. Thanks!”

But enough about him—it’s time to introduce Boy #2, currently seated behind me. He was the polar opposite of Zuka; anytime I spoke to him, his beam would swing left and right like an energetic seesaw. And if I turned and looked at him right this very moment, it would probably happen again.

“Whoa! Wh-what’s up, Miki-san?”

“Oh, nothing.”

See that? It flip-flopped so much, it made me get the wrong idea at first—Oh ho, you got a crush on me? Alas, it’s so hard being this beautiful—but now I was pretty sure that wasn’t the case. After all, if he had a crush on me, then you’d think his beam would lean positive whenever we talked. But since it so frequently leaned negative, my pet theory was that he was actually low-key afraid of me. Pretty self-obsessed of me to mistake it for love, if I’m being honest. Cringe. But anyway. Going forward, I’d just need to get real friendly with him so he wouldn’t be afraid of me anymore.

That being said, Elle sat at the desk directly beside his, and lately things seemed to be getting a little flirty between them, so I decided to rein myself in. They were good friends, and whenever they spoke to each other, their beams both leaned positive. Lucky me, I was friends with both of them, so I could tease them mercilessly once they hooked up. Oh, and as for his nickname…I was still trying to come up with one. Recently, Looney had started calling him by his first name, so now everyone was calling him Kyou-kun.

“Alrighty! Cast, sound crew, and lighting crew, head to the auditorium! Costumers, prop designers, unless you’ve got something more important going on today, head on over to Miyazato-chan!” a drawling voice called out across the classroom as soon as the final bell stopped ringing. It was Looney, shouting up at the ceiling from her desk at the front of the room.

“Use your indoor voice, Kuroda!” our teacher scolded her.

“I’m so excited to start rehearsal,” she replied without apologizing, almost as if she hadn’t heard him. Then she turned around and started giving orders to each person.

As you might have guessed, we were currently working on a presentation for the school Culture Festival. All the stage performances were scheduled for Saturday, while all the refreshment stands would open for business on Sunday. Each class was required to choose one or the other; our class had chosen to perform. And as it happened, Looney had led the charge.

It all started about a month ago, back when the topic of the Culture Festival first arose. Sure, we were all on pretty friendly terms with each other, but even then, I expected we’d take turns sharing our opinions, followed by a majority vote. But no. Instead, Looney raised her hand and made a declaration that closed the book on the entire conversation:

“We’re going to do a superhero show. The people who want to take center stage can have the lead roles, the people who want to give acting a try can have the minor roles, and the people who don’t want to be on stage at all can be part of the production crew instead. I’ll write the script, film it, and submit it to the admissions office of my dream college, so everyone please help me get in, okay? Thanks.”

She didn’t waste time with lead-up—just went straight for the kill. And since no one else had any alternative suggestions, it was easier and faster to just roll with it. Fortunately, our class had plenty of kids like Elle who were good at crafting things, plus a handful of over-enthusiastic guys like Zuka…and of course, at least one person self-obsessed enough to want to play the lead role. Yep, you guessed it: me.

And so, just like that, it was decided that our class would put on a superhero show. As it turned out, not only had Looney already paid a visit to the theater club, but she’d already written the script, too. We each got a copy that very same day.

Naturally, we all knew about Looney’s dream college, and we all wanted to help her make it happen. Our class was chock full of good people, and Looney herself seemed inclined to agree. “You guys are the best. Let’s make this Culture Festival one we’ll never forget,” she said to us, like a line out of a cheesy movie. But somehow, she made it sound genuine. Probably because she wasn’t thinking about it too hard.

“Hey! Braless again?! Seriously?!” I shouted as I ran after her.

“Yep! Want proof?”

She stopped, unbuttoned her blazer, untucked her sweater and button-down shirt, and started to hike it up. Then her band tee slid up along with it, exposing her porcelain tummy, and I hastily grabbed her hands, stopping her. “Don’t you dare!”

There were other students all around us. Kyou-kun looked at us in puzzlement for a moment, then averted his eyes and hurried away.

“That reminds me. Miyazato-chan finished the costumes ahead of schedule, and she was saying she might make the helmets by hand, so she wants to measure your head.”

“That’s it? Not gonna comment on the fact that you almost gave Kyou-kun a peek at the goods?”

She hadn’t even readjusted her uniform, and yet she had already changed the subject to a more serious topic. My snarky retort earned me a dumbfounded look. This was the part about Looney I really couldn’t comprehend—no matter how ridiculously she behaved, she could play it off like it was normal! And yet somehow people like Zuka and Kyou-kun thought I was the crazy one! It was offensive!

Then again, Kyou-kun seemed to have picked up on it lately, so that was a relief. Maybe now he could relax around me a bit more. And for the record, yes, he was one of the cast members in our show. He was never the dramatic type, but Looney had given him a role to play regardless. You see, certain circumstances had put him under her direct control, and while I was mildly concerned for his safety, at the same time, it was kind of hilarious.

“Alrighty then, time for another rehearsal!” Looney exclaimed as we entered the auditorium. For the most part, everyone’s beams leaned positive.

For the next week, we could forget about college entrance exams and everything else and just focus on prepping for the last Culture Festival of our high school careers…

Aaaaagh! Seriously though, what am I gonna do after I graduate?!

 

“Whoa, you weren’t kidding! They’re so firm and tough!” Elle gushed as she felt the fingers on Looney’s left hand. So sweet. So pure.

“Kyou’s fingers are getting there, too,” Looney replied, licking the ice cream clutched in her other hand.

“Really? Show me your left hand,” I told Kyou-kun, who was seated across the table from me.

“No, dummy,” Looney cut in. “It’s his right hand. He’s a lefty, remember?”

At her prompting, Kyou-kun timidly offered me his right hand. When I touched it, I could tell that the pads of his fingers had firmed up from making chords and stuff, although it wasn’t quite as obvious as Looney’s. Meanwhile, as usual, his beam was flip-flopping all over the place.

Sure, it didn’t move like that when Looney or Elle was touching him, but I felt no need to refrain because of it. If anything, I touched him more. Shock therapy, baby! Too bad it didn’t seem to be working. Quite the opposite, in fact—he seemed to be especially restless today, since he was the only guy present. Personally, I couldn’t fathom being nervous around my classmates. As for how he had ended up the sole male presence today, Zuka was off attending club practice. The three of us had spotted Kyou-kun flying solo in the cafeteria and pounced.

“We spent the whole summer break practicing, so now he’s got some calluses, and he can even play a few songs. You should perform for everyone sometime.”

“I’d love that!” Elle exclaimed, gazing at Kyou-kun hopefully. He shook his head vigorously, but his sensei wasn’t having it.

“Kyou, I’ve been reviewing all the basics myself just so I can teach you. This is an order from your sensei: once the Culture Festival is over, pick a song and practice it, then perform it for everyone. Miyazato-chan, Miki-chan, prepare to be amazed by the raw talent of my favorite disciple.”

At this, Kyou-kun looked utterly crushed…and yet his beam tilted ever so slightly to the plus side. But I was the only one who could see that. The heart was honest to a fault, and truth be told, he was itching to make use of his new skills. He was both apprehensive and excited. You’ve got this, Kyou-kun.

“Man, you’ve gotta be really busy with guitar practice and Culture Festival prep and studying. Ha ha! Oh, and there’s post-graduation stuff to worry about, too… Haaah…”

“I’m telling you, we don’t have to worry about all that for a while yet! It’s not like you to get so anxious, Miki-chan. Sighing won’t help you fly… No, what you really need is a jetpack!”

Looney shot to her feet as if preparing for takeoff. I shot a pointed look at Elle and Kyou-kun, then looked back at her. “You say that, but this is a serious issue! It’ll affect my whole life—of course it’s gonna weigh on me!”

“Well then, why not ditch your bra? That’ll take some weight off.”

Looney started to lean her chest in my direction, so I grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and sat her back down in her chair. Just when I’d thought I had the perfect chance to ask Elle and Kyou-kun for their input…she had to interrupt our happy lunchtime with her lunacy.

Moments later, the bell rang. We put away our trays like the good students we were, threw away our trash, and headed off for cleanup duty. It was kinda stupid, but…the way we each went our separate ways after lunch, it felt like a metaphor for life’s whims pulling us in different directions, and it made me sad. Graduation was only a year and a half away…

Honestly, I was an idiot for getting all sentimental over nothing. Looney was right—this wasn’t like me at all.

After school, we were permitted to use the gym, so the cast and crew stayed to rehearse. The gym was where the performances would be held, so we needed to use what limited time we had left to adapt our blocking to the big stage. This was our third rehearsal in the gym, and I could feel everyone’s tension—through their mics and their beams.

What about me, you ask? I was totally fine! As a superhero, I was used to performing under pressure. If I had my way, I’d be on stage the whole time, but of course, the script had a few scenes I wasn’t part of. So I left Looney and the evil goons onstage in the gym and walked to the student store to buy a sports drink. Being a superhero was a real workout, and I needed to replenish my electrolytes.

At any other time of year, the student store would be pretty empty after school, but the Culture Festival was now just a week away, and the place was packed. I bought a bottle of Pocari and was on my way back to the gym when I spotted a friend sitting on a bench outside the cafeteria. So, naturally, I flung my drink at him.

“Ow!”

“Ha ha! You’ve got a long way to go if you can’t even catch a sports drink!”

“Dude, not cool! You can’t just go around hurting people! You’re supposed to be the good guy!”

Laughing, Zuka tossed my bottle back. I caught it and then sat down next to him. “I know you don’t have club practice, and the costumers all have the day off today, so what are you doing here…? Oh, I get it. You’re waiting for Kyou-kun, eh?”

“Yep. I’m a loser with no life.”

As usual, his beam was perfectly balanced. I saw it waver when I threw the Pocari, and yet my words didn’t affect him even remotely? I mean…not that it mattered…I guess.

“Why don’t you just hang out with us in the gym?”

“I’ll be a distraction and you know it,” he grinned, as if it were a superpower he could willfully control. In reality, he was just a nuisance whose mere presence made all the boys get rowdy.

“Gotcha. Okay, well, we need to borrow your boyfriend for a little longer, but I promise you’ll be able to go on your date after we’re done.”

“It’s not a date, dumbo. We’re just gonna look at CDs.”

“Meaning you’re gonna walk around window shopping? That’s a date, my friend. And a pretty big one at that… Oh, now I get it! Y’know, if it weren’t for you hanging all over him, he and Elle might actually get together sometime this century!”

“What?”

Oh my God. I always knew Zuka was dense, but I hadn’t realized just how terminal it was. Then again, maybe it was silly of me to expect him to notice things about other people when he couldn’t even see what was right in front of him.

“You know Elle and Kyou-kun have been flirting lately, right? They’re always talking and laughing.”

Personally, I thought I did an excellent job of conveying my point without having to mention my beam power, but Zuka didn’t respond. And instead of responding, he stared at me with the most obnoxious slack-jawed derp face I’d ever seen. Then he let out this big, dramatic sigh, and while admittedly I had no idea what was going on with him, it pissed me off something fierce, so I went ahead and punched him just in case.

“Wait… Did Kyou-kun say something about it to you? Or did you and Elle talk about it while you worked on the costumes?”

“No, but…you know having a fun conversation with someone doesn’t automatically mean it’s flirting, right?”

Like you would know! I glared at him. In response, he fixed me with that quiet smile that made all the girls go gaga over him.

“What? You think it’s sexy to be a killjoy? You wanna go, punk?”

“Will you wipe that evil sneer off your face? You’re supposed to be a hero! Oh, and that reminds me: Looney told me you’re, like, worried about something?”

“Oh, yeah, that. I’ve just been thinking about post-graduation stuff.”

“That’s weird. You’re not really the thinking type.”

“On the one hand, you’re not wrong. But on the other hand, cram it.” I leaned in and glared at him point-blank.

“Seriously, quit sneering!”

He pressed one of his big mitts against my face and pushed me away. Unlike Looney’s stiff, guitar-callused fingers, Zuka’s was rough from all the sports. Get your stupid hand out of my face!

“What, so you’re saying you’ve got it all figured out?”

“I wanna work outside Japan, so I’m gonna study foreign languages.”

“Oh. Uh…wow.”

“If I go to a national university, that’ll save me some tuition costs. Plus, I can work part-time to cover my life expenses while saving up to travel abroad while I’m getting my degree. Supposedly summer breaks in college are more than a month long, right? But of course, if I wanna get into a national school, I’m gonna have to study like hell to get my math scores up. That’s what they said during my student-teacher conference, anyway.” He let out a charming little laugh.

I was impressed and panicked at the same time. Not because he was thinking hard about his future—I was already doing that myself—but because he answered the question so quickly and easily. I had known this guy for five years of my life now, and his confidence and conviction had never posed this much of a threat.

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

“What is it this time? Practicing one of your lines?”

He seemed to enjoy watching me squirm. So naturally I decided to give him a firm headbutt, but right as I grabbed him by the hair, I heard a meek voice call out:

“M-Miki-san…Sensei’s asking for you…and please don’t bully Zuka…”

I turned to find Kyou-kun standing there, his beam leaning somewhat negative.

“No, it’s not what you think! I’m the victim here! Anyway, my bad. Sorry I wasn’t on standby.”

I was being completely honest, and yet his beam remained on the minus side. Until I let go of Zuka, that is. Then it returned to the plus side. Aww, he was just worried about his friend.

“Okay, well, I’ll be in the library. Come get me when you’re done.”

“You’re gonna study?”

“Nah, I’m just gonna chat with the librarian. Oh yeah, Mickey!”

Right as I rose to my feet, he beckoned me over. And like a normal, well-adjusted person, I leaned in. But then he whispered something that was punishable only with the most merciless superhero punch:

“I dunno what’s gotten into Looney, but she was rubbing her boobs all over me today!”

“Gross! TMI!”

 

Was Looney’s new bralessness a tactic to seduce Zuka? She had never seemed that interested in him before now, so it struck me as totally out of left field. But then again, when it came to a lunatic like her, sudden baffling behavior was par for the course.

Come to think of it, just this morning at the shoe lockers, I was chatting with Kyou-kun when Zuka showed up. Right as I waved at him and said good morning, however, Looney dashed over, threw herself into his arms, and dragged him away somewhere. Now that I thought about it, I seemed to remember her trying to do a “playful wink” in my direction. What was that about? “He’s mine” or something?

There are more important matters at hand, people!

In a blink, the Culture Festival was now just two days away, and I hadn’t made any progress figuring out my plans for life after high school. Sure, we were still in the second half of our second year, so it wasn’t that urgent, but still. In my case, I was the kind of girl who set her sights on something and charged straight at it like a bull. This had worked out for me pretty well thus far. So while I could tolerate a reasonable amount of aimless studying, eventually I was gonna hit a brick wall, and knowing me, it would probably happen at the worst possible time. Everyone had their own way of doing things. And while I was still just a teenager, I had managed to find a lifestyle that worked for me—one that naturally produced the best possible outcome—and as such, I had no plans of changing it.

“Remember: even when you’re backstage, you’re still performing. Yes, it’s dark and the audience can’t see you, but you still have to stay focused the entire time. Think of your fellow cast members as part of the audience. And don’t worry; you have nothing to be nervous about. Everyone here is a star.”

It was such a cheesy line, anyone who dared to say it aloud would surely writhe at the mere memory for years to come. Anyone but Looney, that is. She had worked her butt off to get us ready for the Festival, and now we were fully prepared—the polar opposite of my post-graduation situation.

“Tomorrow we’ll be using the auditorium after school, so we’ll position the set and do a whole run-through. Then the day after that, we’ll check sound and lighting in the gym during fifth period. Don’t worry, we’ve got this! S-T-A-R! What’s that spell?!”

“STAR!” we answered in unison, which was a miracle considering none of us saw it coming—we’d all been taken in by her inexplicable charisma. Then we burst out laughing at ourselves. Pretty much everyone was wearing their stage costumes, too, which added a whole new layer of fun. Yet at the same time, part of me was still hung up on the post-graduation stuff. I knew it wasn’t like me to be so indecisive…but I just felt so…overwhelmed…

Ugh, if only I could see my own beam! Then I’d be able to see what made it lean positive or negative! This “life after high school” problem stressed me out more than friends or romance ever did. Pretty hardcore, man.

“Miki-chan, why do you look like you’re about ready to kill someone? Need help hiding the body?” asked Looney.

“No! A superhero would never do such a thing!”

I knew if I nodded, she would probably have a murder plot outlined by tomorrow. Instead, I ignored her and headed to the shoe lockers, where I changed into my loafers. Then, without waiting for her to catch up, I walked out through the front doors and encountered a group of female classmates standing around outside. Evidently, they were waiting for me and Looney to get back from returning the auditorium key.

“Oh, sorry, guys. Didn’t realize you were waiting on us.”

“No problem! Listen, we were just talking, and…don’t you think something’s going on with those two?”

I looked in the direction she pointed—at Zuka and Kyou-kun headed to the front gates. They walked side by side, with no real palpable excitement, and while their voices were too quiet to overhear, they kinda looked like an old married couple. The costume team had finished their work early today, so clearly Zuka must have stayed behind to wait for Kyou-kun again.

“They say they’re just friends, but what if they’re both secretly in love with each other?!”

I laughed. I’d forgotten she was a fan of that sort of thing. Then I remembered what I’d said point-blank to Zuka’s face just yesterday. Evidently, I wasn’t all that different.

“No way! Kyou likes girls, I’m sure of it. He gives off straight vibes,” Looney announced out of nowhere as she caught up to the group. Perhaps she, too, had sensed the chemistry between him and Elle. “My dear disciple just needs a little more courage, that’s all.”

“Ha ha! Settle down there, Sensei.”

Ever since she took Kyou-kun as her guitar pupil over summer break, Looney had adopted the attitude of a seasoned educator. But when we all started to tease her about it, this apparently delighted her so much that she started dancing in the street like the lunatic she was.

So yeah, that was how my day ended.

And, just like that, it was the day before the Culture Festival. We’d had more than a month to prepare, and yet it all seemed to fly by in a blink. Looney was still running around campus without a bra on, still claiming it was “a woman’s prerogative,” so I let her off the hook with a light punch to the shoulder. It felt like everything was going to plan.

But that was when a big problem occurred: the boy assigned to the supervillain role broke his arm in a bike accident.

I could hear him apologizing on the other end of the phone, but Looney didn’t fault him for his carelessness. Instead, she laughed and said, “I swear, only you would get injured at a time like this. But hey, since you can’t eat ice cream with a broken arm, I’ll eat it for you. I want three pints, you hear me?” And with that, she ended the call.

Then I asked the question that was on everyone’s minds: “What are we gonna do?”

Smiling vaguely, she answered, “I’ll just handle it myself, of course.”

 

Ignoring everyone else’s concerns, Looney’s beam continued to spin wildly, like it was having the time of its life. Rehearsal that day hit a few minor snags but was otherwise almost flawless. And those minor snags weren’t because of Looney; no, she performed her new role perfectly. Granted, maybe this wasn’t a surprise considering she was the one who wrote the script and the plot to begin with. Plus, she was directing everyone else’s acting, too. That being said, I’d been under the impression she’d never done any acting before.

“I like to keep my bases covered, so I practiced all the parts at home every night, just in case.”

She wasn’t scared to wear a lapel mic, either, something the whole crew found impressive. Then she looked at me with that unreadable expression of hers.

“I’m glad you’re still around, Miki-chan.”

“Yeah, I bet you are!”

Instantly I understood what she meant. Although she could probably play most of the parts with relative ease, mine was the only exception. Sure, at first glance Looney may have seemed “absurdly hyper-competent at everything” (her words, not mine), but this was not actually the case. You see, while she was a hard worker who generally tried to keep all her bases covered, this only bore fruit when it came to her studies or her hobbies. When it came to anything athletic, Looney was completely and utterly hopeless. She wouldn’t be able to do the high kicks and jumps that came with the superhero mantle.

“For this last part, I’d like to go over the action blocking for the finale between me and Miki-chan. Everyone else is free to go. Sorry it’s so last minute, Miyazato-chan, but could you adjust the size of the villain costume?”

“Sure!”

Luckily, the costume in question was just a plain floor-length black robe with a fox mask and a staff.

“Anyway, don’t worry about the hiccups. The worst of our bad luck is already behind us. Now go home, eat a nice big dinner, take a bath, and get lots of sleep. Come tomorrow, no matter what happens, we’re gonna have a blast. So that’s that! Dismissed!”

After that…reassuring?…farewell, everyone filed out of the auditorium, buzzing with excitement and anxiety. The numbers dwindled one by one, and once it was just the two of us, what I felt most wasn’t loneliness but fear. It was still the same auditorium we’d visited a thousand times, but without everyone else there to fill the space, I felt strangely out of place. Why was it so hard to breathe all of a sudden?

“L-Looney, let’s hurry up and get this blocking figured out! Oh, and you had better wear a bra tomorrow, got it?”

“Heh heh heh. No promises.”

One look at her stupid smirk and her spinning beam, and the fear inside me faded away. For once, her ability to make people ask themselves “Why did I ever bother worrying?” had actually come in handy.

Fortunately, we figured out all the stage blocking without much trouble. For the most part, I was the one doing all the jumping around while the villain moved her staff accordingly to block my attacks. Even Looney could handle it, and this was the same girl who somehow managed to take thirteen entire seconds to complete a fifty-meter dash.

“That was perfectamundo, Miki-chan! Now all that’s left is for me to spend the rest of the night learning to embrace the dark side… Yeah, that’s right. I’m not going to eat any of my carrots at dinner!”

“Wow. Diabolical.”

After we toweled off our sweat, took off our tracksuits, changed back into our school uniforms, and sprayed the whole auditorium with deodorizer, we locked up for the night and headed for the staff room, side by side. As we walked down the dimly lit hall, we could see light spilling out from inside. And when we finally reached the entryway, we arrived right as our teacher was stepping out.

“Here’s the key, broski!”

“That’s Sensei to you,” he replied sharply as he accepted the key.

I laughed. “Sorry, Sensei!”

“Be careful on your way home, now. Especially you, Miki—you tend to stumble headfirst into trouble whenever you’re feeling cocky. We’re all expecting big things of you tomorrow.”

“Just leave it to me, Teach! I’ll knock your socks off!”

“How many times must I tell you…” He sighed and then chuckled, as we turned and ran off.

You tend to stumble headfirst into trouble whenever you’re feeling cocky.

At the time, I hadn’t paid it much thought…but it wouldn’t be long until I came to regret not listening more carefully to that warning.

 

After a full night’s sleep and a balanced breakfast, I was in top form. On the way to school, everyone kept whispering about how nervous they were, but as for me, my heart was racing with excitement right from the moment I woke up. At the shoe lockers, I said hi to everyone, pulled off my outdoor shoes, and while I was at it, I went up and threw a friendly kick at Zuka’s back. On top of my game, baby!

As our director, I figured Looney would be a little nervous herself, so I checked in with her at the first opportunity. But she apparently really had embraced the dark side, because she kept referring to herself as a “Demon Lord.” She had this creepy blank look on her face, too. So I snapped her out of it by making her eat one of my carrots at lunch.

“You’re incredible, Mickey. I’ve had the jitters since yesterday. Couldn’t get a wink of sleep last night. Ugh, I’m such a loser… Break a leg, okay?”

Somehow Elle was even more nervous than the rest of us, and she didn’t even have to worry about going onstage. She had finished readjusting the villain costume, and sure enough, it fit Looney perfectly. Oh, and when the original actor walked in with his arm in a cast, we all ran over to doodle on it. This was a fitting punishment, I think.

That morning, Looney and the sound/lighting crew went to the gym to do a quick final check. When they returned, they told us that the gym windows were now covered in blackout curtains, which meant backstage would be even darker than usual. Fortunately, this wouldn’t be a problem, since we wouldn’t need to shuffle around too much while the lights were off.

The costumes and everything else had all been relocated to the gym storage room. We were ready. All we had to do now was knock their socks off.

After morning homeroom ended, we all filed into the hall and walked to the gym in an orderly fashion. We weren’t quiet about it, though. We were all way too worked up.

“It’s finally happening!” I whispered to Elle behind me in line.

She blinked at me for a minute and then shouted “Break a leg!” in an uncharacteristically loud voice that got us both in trouble with the teacher. But even that wasn’t enough to put a damper on our high spirits.

Arriving at the gym, I took a deep breath…and stepped inside.

The mood in the room was tense and curious and apprehensive and excited—nothing like it usually was. It felt like our thumping heartbeats were vibrating the floor, and everyone’s beams were going crazy, tilting positive and negative. And then there was Looney’s, spinning out of control, like always.

This is awesome. I am LIVING for this.

Today’s schedule was as follows: first up, the club performances—dance, band, choir. Next, the class performances. Then, lastly, we’d finish the day with a performance from the theater club. See, our school’s theater club was actually kind of a big deal; they put on a musical every year, and it was always a huge hit. And as it happened, the stage manager for our performance was a theater club member. With her help, Looney’s script had really taken on a life of its own. Plus, she was going to be acting in the theater club performance later today, so I was really looking forward to that.

We all sat down in our assigned section. Then they started off with the opening speech, and before we knew it, it was time.

The dance, band, and choir performances were all really good, and I recognized my friends from other classes among them, which was fun, but…my heart was focused on our superhero show.

Applause filled the gym as the club performances came to an end. At last, it was time for the five class performances. During the fifteen-minute intermission, the first class set up their stage while the second class got ready in the dressing rooms—and we were the second class.

There were two dressing rooms, one for boys and one for girls. But these rooms were too small to fit all of us, so the stage crew—costumers, prop designers, etc.—would stay behind while the cast members, including me, changed into our costumes. Then, when the first class finished their performance and the curtain fell, the crew members would rush to change out the set pieces while the cast waited backstage. Naturally, we had practiced this process during yesterday’s dress rehearsal.

As the cast rose to their feet, I could hear our classmates whispering “You got this!” and “Break a leg!” Meanwhile, set-designer-turned-villain Looney exchanged a fist bump with the injured actor—using his non-broken arm, of course. And with that, we headed to the dressing rooms. Everyone’s beams were flip-flopping around, even the people still seated.

The girls’ dressing room smelled like old sweat, but I used to do track back in junior high, so I was used to it. If anything, it put me in a competitive mindset.

“Gosh, Elle’s so talented,” Office Worker A commented behind me as I pulled an oversized tracksuit on over my superhero costume. And it was my costume she was referring to. Elle had designed it to incorporate both Looney’s overall vision and my own suggestions. It was an indulgent masterpiece, far surpassing our allotted budget and forcing our class adviser to pay for it out of pocket.

“Ha ha! Thanks for noticing. Took you long enough!”

“Don’t act like you raised her, Mickey! But…yeah…I didn’t really notice before. And I guess it’s thanks to you that she’s started to open up to the rest of the class lately.”

“She told me she wants to go to college to study fashion design.”

“Oh, that’d be perfect for her!”

Just then, Looney returned from visiting the boys’ dressing room, still wearing her uniform. I grabbed my super-cool superhero mask and walked over to her…but before I could say anything, a peal of applause broke out in the gym. The first performance had begun.

Next thing I knew, I felt a fist against my chest.

“We’re all depending on you, Miki-chan. Don’t let us down,” she told me with a goofy grin.

So I mimicked her gesture, pressing my fist square against the center of her chest. “Leave it to me.”

Twenty minutes later, the third-year class finished their performance—a stage adaptation of The Little Prince. I was a fan of that story, so I kinda wished I could have seen it, but as soon as the curtain fell, that thought went right out the window. Quietly, we slipped backstage while the crew got everything set up for us. I could hear some people taking deep breaths, while others flailed their limbs, trying to get the jitters out. Kyou-kun (AKA “Pedestrian B”) stood beside me, his beam wobbling all over the place, the way it did whenever I spoke to him.

Then the crew members hurried offstage, and one of the student council members peeked behind the curtain to check if we were ready. It was time. In just twenty minutes, the past month of hard work would finally come to an end.

“Next, we have a superhero show from Class 2-A. Let’s all get in touch with our inner children and root for the hero!”

The audience applauded…and then the stage lights went down.

There was a short lull before the curtains would open again. In the sudden darkness, I couldn’t see a thing. After all, I couldn’t see anyone’s beams if I couldn’t see their faces. It was so quiet, even our whispers threatened to carry out to the audience…and in that moment, I realized something: my heart was pounding harder than usual.

Oh crap. Am I…nervous?

Now that I thought about it, my legs felt like jelly, and I could feel sweat trickling down my back. Right…this was what it felt like to be nervous. It’d been so long, I’d almost forgotten.

Oh God, but I’m the hero! This whole show is riding on me! Crap, crap, crap! My cue isn’t for a while still, but…I’m gonna be fine, right? Right? Someone, please tell me—

“It’ll be okay.”

In the darkness, I heard a voice, loud and clear. Then, the next thing I knew, someone reached out and grabbed my cold, tingly left hand. Their fingers weren’t rock-hard like Looney’s, but I could feel some stiffness there. Before I could figure out who it was, however, the hand pulled away, and a few seconds later the house lights came back on. That was the cue for Pedestrians A, B, and C to walk onstage.

Whoever had grabbed my hand, I had felt their warmth…and the faintest tremble. Then I realized my nerves had disappeared—wait, no, they hadn’t. I could still feel it. But when I balled my hand into a fist, those feelings started to shift into something else.

Oh, okay. Now THIS I can work with.

Summoning all my emotions into my left hand, I looked out at the less-than-manly figure walking away from me and silently thanked him.

As it turned out, once you harnessed the power of your stage jitters, everything else was a piece of cake. The show progressed smoothly, without a hitch. We had a veteran thespian running the sound and lighting, so no worries there. Plus, our narrator standing at the very front of the stage was from the broadcasting club, and as you might expect, his voice was like butter. The other actors seemed to have harnessed their jitters, too, because the Pedestrians and Office Workers were reciting their lines with no hiccups.

Now it was my turn to walk onstage, accompanied by Looney and another girl. Our characters were just ordinary teenage girls, gossiping about dumb stuff, but the audience was actually laughing at our jokes! What a relief.

The first act was primarily focused on establishing the superhero and the bad guys through dialogue, including some foreshadowing that there might be a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Naturally, we made one character look blatantly suspicious as a red herring. But in actuality, Looney’s character was wearing the same wristband as the evil mooks in full-body spandex. This was an Easter egg Looney added to give the audience a hint, and she made sure to casually draw attention to her wrist as she recited her lines.

Then the stage lights dimmed, and eerie music began to play as a group of evil mooks ran onstage. The teenage girls all screamed, and when it looked like the mooks were going to carry them away, they began to call for the famous superhero. But she didn’t show up right away.

This was my cue to run offstage, leaving Looney behind while I hastily changed out of my tracksuit and affixed the ornaments to my superhero costume underneath. Meanwhile, the narrator addressed the audience, encouraging them to call for me. Then I put my mask on, and right as the crowd was hyped up, I ran back out to them!

From there, the superhero protected the civilians as she mowed down all the evil mooks, tokusatsu-style. Damn, I’m such a badass! Once they were defeated, a thunder sound effect played, and the burliest guy in our class walked onstage, dressed up like a powerful warrior. As the other characters shrank away in fear, I alone rose to the challenge. This would be a hard fight, but with the help of my special moves, I would ultimately defeat him. Then the bad guys all scrambled offstage with their tails between their  legs.

At last, peace was restored to the town! Or so you might think. But then a high-pitched laugh rang out from backstage, and the audience realized Looney was gone. Cue the true villain: our favorite lunatic. A shocking betrayal by someone I thought was a friend. Originally this scene was going to have some romantic undertones to it, since the villain was written to be male, but oh well. Instead, my character was purely devastated to learn that their friendship was a lie. But I had to fight her if I wanted to protect the people.

That said, as the true villain, Looney was no pushover. Sound effects played as she deflected all my attacks with her staff. Then, using her witchcraft, she overpowered me. The superhero was in danger! Now it was time for the minor characters to cheer for me while the narrator encouraged the audience to join in. Fortunately, our audience was primed to play along, and with their voices calling for me, I rose to my feet. Sound effects and lighting cues abound, I shouted the name of my ultimate attack and threw out a kick!

Looney had given me some very specific stage direction for this scene: Come at me with all you’ve got. So I aimed my strongest kick at her (padded) shoulder, and she dramatically staggered backwards. Then, with one last line of dialogue, she breathed no more. The evil mooks carried her lifeless body offstage, leaving only her fox mask. The minor characters all cheered, and the narrator prompted the audience to applaud.

This scene required some nuanced acting on my part. The evil was defeated, yes, but my character couldn’t truly celebrate. I had vanquished my friend with my own two hands, and now I would have to live with that knowledge while cherishing the peaceful world I had protected… According to Looney, this was “a message to fellow Japanese people who never truly stopped to think about the costs of our freedom,” or something like that. Pretty deep, if you asked me.

Either way, bottom line, the story was about the value of peace. The minor characters would all rejoice, I would say my closing line, and then we were done. This was the end of our superhero show, and only a small amount of dialogue remained.

As Office Worker A said her lines, I felt myself relax a tiny bit. At this point, we were finally in the clear. There were no more hurdles to overcome. After all, we had nailed this last scene in every single rehearsal. What was I ever nervous about?

I let out a breath, making sure my lapel mic wouldn’t pick it up. For the first time, I was calm enough to really take in my surroundings. Prior to this point, I was laser-focused on performing everything correctly. I glanced offstage and saw Looney smiling proudly. Then I looked out at the audience and saw Elle clasping her hands anxiously while Zuka grinned. Here on stage, I was surrounded by my beloved classmates, including the guy who gave me the courage I needed: “Pedestrian B,” who wasn’t wearing a mic at all since he (tragically) didn’t have any lines.

Gosh, this past month has been so much fun, I thought to myself out of nowhere. Maybe Looney’s spontaneity had rubbed off on me, because I was just suddenly so…happy. Everyone was so awesome, and the costumes, the set pieces, the sound, the lighting… Everyone’s talent and hard work and perseverance had gotten us this far. I was truly blessed to be here, standing among them. And without Looney’s ambitions, this whole play never would have happened. I could never admit it to her face, of course, since she was such an oddball. It’d be too awkward.

She knew exactly what she wanted to do, and she went out and did it without ever hesitating. As for me, I was terminally wishy-washy, and not in a cute way. I simply couldn’t decide what future I wanted for myself. My mind was an ocean of pluses and minuses… Ugh, if only I could stop being pathetic and focus on what I want to do with my life like everyone else…

“…Huh?”

Then, at long last, I realized I had done the unthinkable. I had zoned out. While I was still on stage. I had gotten lost in thought and forgotten everything. And it wasn’t until the girl next to me was forced to nudge me on the shoulder that I realized it was my turn to speak.

Oh God, I can’t believe I screwed up here of all places!

Hastily, I adjusted my lapel mic. It was the final piece of dialogue in the play, just three lines long.

C’mon, I gotta say it right! Everyone’s counting on me! Looney’s dreams are riding on this! Looney’s…dreams…

The girl next to me looked at me with concern.

I know, I know. It’s my turn. It’s my last line.

Looney had instructed me to boldly direct my final line at the audience; I remembered that much, at least. So I turned my body to face them. The stage lights shone into my eyes, penetrating my skull until my mind went as white as a sheet.

I had never experienced anything like this.

“Wh…wha…huh?”

It felt like I had fallen into a bright white abyss. An endless abyss. And I was trying desperately, desperately, to remember everything that had led up to this moment, but there was nothing to grab onto, and I kept falling, falling, falling.

Uh…uhhh…uhh…wha…what…what…what’s my line?

My silence dragged on a little too long, and now I could feel everyone else on stage starting to panic. Then the audience picked up on said panic and started to whisper amongst themselves. My five senses were oddly sharpened, so I could hear it all:

“What’s wrong?”

“Brain fart?”

“Ugh, right at the end?”

“That’s so sad…”

Wait…n-no…it’s not that… I didn’t forget… I swear, I remember… I mean, we did this scene a dozen times… C’mon, c’mon, I gotta say something! I know I gotta say something, but…I can’t…think of anything… I can’t remember! I can’t, I can’t, I can’t! Right when I finally stopped being scared… C’mon, everyone’s counting on me! Looney’s dreams are riding on this! At this rate, I’ll…I’ll ruin everything…!

I knew this, and yet the words wouldn’t come. Why? Maybe my throat was blocked, because they came out through my eyes instead. In the form of tears.

Miki—you tend to stumble headfirst into trouble whenever you’re feeling cocky.

Why now, of all the worst possible moments? My legs were jelly again, except worse this time. It felt like my knees were ready to give out at any second. I can’t pass out, no matter what! Desperately, I struggled to stand my ground.

But truth be told, I was fighting a losing battle. In the end, the only thing that kept me upright was the person who dashed out from backstage and wrapped their arms around me to prop me up. I was still in panic mode, and I couldn’t think straight. But as murmurs rose up from the audience, I heard a voice in my ear that lodged itself straight into my brain.

“It’s okay, Miki-chan. Don’t worry. Just take a deep breath.”

“…Looney?”

At last, I understood. Looney was holding me. She had removed her lapel mic, but I had accidentally spoken into mine, and my voice carried across the gym. For better or for worse, however, I was no longer worried about screwing up the show. All I knew was that she wasn’t supposed to be onstage.

“L-Looney, you can’t be out here!”

“Hmm?”

“You dummy! You’re messing it up! Your dreams, your college, your goals, your beam…it’ll all lean negative!”

I was babbling like a crazy person, and everyone in the room heard me. They must have felt my panic. The audience was uncomfortably quiet. And as a result, my lapel mic picked up Looney’s voice.

“But Miki-chan…you’re crying.”

What are you talking about?

“Who cares? Your dream—”

“Friends come first. Only an idiot would stop to worry about that stuff.”

No, that’s backwards! An idiot WOULDN’T worry about it!

But my feelings didn’t reach her. Instead, she hugged me tightly and whispered so only I could hear: “I’ll handle this.”

Then, still dressed in her villain robes, she walked over to the narrator. What was she planning to do? How was she going to fix it?

Then she snatched the narrator’s mic and addressed the audience directly. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’d like to apologize to you.”

I’m sorry… This is all my fault…

“We’re sorry for deceiving you, but…we were putting on an act.”

I could practically see the thought bubbles over everyone’s heads, including my own: No kidding, Sherlock!

Looking back, no one understood what she was getting at.

“Yes, this was all an act. You see, it occurred to me that, in this world of unending strife, perhaps humanity could never truly unite unless there was a greater evil. And so, to become humanity’s most formidable foe, I had no choice but to transform myself into evil incarnate. But once the people vanquished that evil, I knew they would need a leader. So I forced my friend to take up that mantle. And once she defeated me, I was prepared to never set foot in the civilized world ever again. But she couldn’t bear to subject me to that…and I couldn’t bear to abandon her when she was hurting. So our plan failed, all because we were too naive. We were only ever pretending to be superhero and villain. But think about it: when the time comes that a true villain reveals themselves, are we sure that a true superhero will rise up to fight? If we don’t join hands today, we might be too late by tomorrow. And that’s the moral of this story.”

Once Looney’s speech came to an end, classical music started to play—that was our ending theme. Then the stage lights slowly faded to black, and the curtain fell. One or two people hesitantly started clapping, and after a moment of hesitation, the rest of the audience joined in until eventually the applause was genuine.

“That’s the moral of this story” was the cue I was supposed to say to signal the end of the show. But Looney hadn’t simply recited my lines in my place. Whatever speech she gave just now, it wasn’t in the script at all.

Then it dawned on me: perhaps she had prepared an alternative ending in advance, just in case I messed up. Feeling sad and guilty, I took off my lapel mic and thanked her in a shaky voice as we stood there in the darkness.

“Hoo boy. You know, I wasn’t sure what I was doing when I took that mic, but maybe I just have a knack for improv.”

Are you kidding me? That was all off the top of your head?

There was no denying it—she was a lunatic, through and through. That speech could have gone wrong in any number of ways! Instead of simply letting me take the fall, she could have single-handedly screwed us up even worse!

But…she didn’t.

I wouldn’t call our play a success, but somehow, Miss “Friends Come First” managed to brute-force her way to a happy ending. Ugh… I never wanted to admit it, since it’d be awkward, and I wasn’t even trying to flatter her, but nevertheless, it trickled out with my last tear.

“You’re really incredible, Looney.”

Then the lights came back on so the next class could set the stage for their performance, and I was finally able to see everyone’s faces. They all looked relieved. As for me, I probably looked like a mess.

Only Looney was smiling. Smiling and spinning her beam around like a pinwheel.

How are you so awesome?

 

Even after the play was over, I continued to cry and apologize and cry some more. I couldn’t possibly count how many tears I shed, so don’t ask me for an exact amount. But if you’re cool with just the parts I remember, then here you go.

Everyone kept smiling and saying nice things, like “I guess even you get nervous sometimes, huh?” and “I’m sure you would’ve remembered your line eventually!”—I remember that part for sure. Then I spent the whole night depressed and overthinking things. Then I fell asleep at some point, and when I woke up the next morning, I was back to normal. Can’t stay hung up on these things forever, y’know.

Today was Sunday, the day we were free to kick back and relax after working our butts off yesterday. We were permitted to walk around and peruse all the stores the other classes had set up until the end of the day, at which point we would meet up at a burger joint by the train station for a cast party. There was no school on Monday, either, so this was basically the start of our weekend.

Together with Looney, Elle, and the other girls, we walked around, ate some food, and grabbed some drinks. Oh, and we stopped by Zuka’s club exhibit to make fun of him, of course. Looney and I had both demanded he give us free extras as a “friendship perk,” but when our food arrived, Elle’s plate was the only one stacked four waffles high. It was all so childish. When I went to pay for our food, the fist holding my money may have accidentally collided with Zuka’s shoulder.

All things considered, it was a fun day, but at one point I ended up stepping away from the group. There was someone I’d been meaning to talk to today, and I’d just spotted him sitting by himself in the courtyard, eating takoyaki. But I didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea and start teasing him, of course, so I made some vague excuse and slipped away from the other girls before I approached.

“’Sup, Kyou-kun!”

At my voice, he flinched so hard, the whole bench flinched with him. He nearly dropped his takoyaki, too, so I hastily reached out to keep the container upright. As he choked on his bite of food, I could see his beam wobbling away, like always.

“M-Miki-san! Wh-what’s up? Weren’t you with Miyazato-san and the others?”

“Yeah, but I snuck away.”

“Snuck away? Wha…but…wh-what for?”

“Um, well…”

When I thought over what I was planning to say, however, I started to get the feeling that maybe it was actually really embarrassing.

“Miki-san…?”

Eh, screw it. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?” He tilted his head at me.

“Remember yesterday, backstage, when you…g-grabbed my hand? Well, it really helped me calm down. I mean, obviously I still screwed up right at the end, but I’m still really grateful to you, so…thanks.”

For some reason, I could still remember how his hand felt against mine. Anyway, I had accomplished my mission, and now it was time for both of us to giggle bashfully…or so I thought. But Kyou-kun’s reaction was one I hadn’t anticipated. Not only did he continue to tilt his head at me, but I could practically see a giant question mark floating over his head… Then his cheeks flushed red, and he started shaking his head vigorously.

“No, I…I never grabbed your hand! I didn’t do it! I swear!”

“What? Yes, you did! Remember? You were standing right next to me! You grabbed my hand and told me it was gonna be okay!”

“That first part wasn’t me! I only did the second part!”

Then he told me something I never would have imagined.

“Sensei said ‘Even when you’re backstage, you’re still acting.’ Then she told me if I ever got nervous, ‘Just clap yourself on the shoulder and tell yourself it’ll be okay. Make it sound convincing, like you’re reciting a line from the play.’ So yeah, I did. But I swear, I didn’t grab your hand, honest!”

…Oh.

Now I understood why she didn’t tell us about the blackout curtains…why she made me touch Kyou-kun’s hand in advance…and quite possibly why she told me she was glad I was around. It all vaguely made sense, and then out of nowhere, I was struck with the strangest feeling. Something I hadn’t felt in a long time: the shame of having an emotional reaction to what was actually a misunderstanding.

“Well, uh…either way, you still really helped me feel better, so thank you anyway sorry I gotta go now but Zuka’s exhibit is closing soon so you should probably head over there okay cool see you later!” I blurted out in a single breath. Then I spun on my heel. For some reason my face was burning hot, and I didn’t want him to see it.

Sorry, Kyou-kun. You did nothing wrong, honest.

Starting now, my first order of business was to find Looney.

 

I kept waiting right up until the cast party, but in the end, I never did find an opportunity to talk to Looney one-on-one. Thus, I was forced to wait until afterwards, when we were on our way home. After I invited myself over to her house, we were about halfway there when I finally broached the subject.

“Ugh,” she muttered. “I told him to make it sound convincing.”

“So you were trying to prank me?!”

“Cat’s out of the bag, I guess. I admit it—I was the one who grabbed your hand.”

“What? But it would’ve been your right hand, and it wasn’t all stiff like yours!”

“Like I said, I’ve had to practice the basics all over again.”

She held out her right hand, and sure enough, it felt identical to the hand that had grabbed mine backstage.

“Since Kyou is a lefty, I’ve had to switch hands in order to be able to teach him. And since we both started practicing around the same time, our right hands are at about the same level.”

“No kidding… Wait, but why would you do that? Are you trying to help Kyou-kun get over his fear of me?”

“Yeah, something like that,” she nodded, her expression blank.

“Huh? Then why not make him grab my hand himself?”

“Because he’d derail the whole play.”

“What? I don’t get it.”

I blinked at her. She grinned.

“I can’t really explain it, but…I’m a sucker for a love story.”

“Huh…? Oh, that reminds me, actually! Looney, have you been going braless in order to rub your stupid boobs on Zuka?!”

She stared at me wide-eyed for a moment. Then the realization dawned on her, and she burst out laughing.

“No, the braless thing was just a red herring. And the boob-rubbing was because…well…I try to keep all my bases covered, you know?” she declared triumphantly.

I tried to parse the meaning behind this, but couldn’t. Eh, forget it. She was just a lunatic anyway. Nine times out of ten, trying to understand her would only give you a migraine. Then I remembered something else.

“That reminds me—I’ve decided to major in literature,” I said. “I know it won’t be easy to get a job, but I’ll just have to cross that bridge when I come to it.”

“Is that what you want to do when you grow up?”

“Yeah. I just really love classical studies.”

Talking about the things I loved always put a smile on my face. Looney didn’t smile with me, but she listened intently and nodded.

“Then I think you should go for it. Life’s too short to be able to fit in every single thing you want to try, so there’s no sense in wasting time doing stuff you hate.”

It was a cool line that made her sound wise beyond her years. And in that moment, I think I finally realized why Looney seemed so different from everyone else.

“You were the real superhero all along, weren’t you?”

It was a statement so out of left field, I must have sounded like a lunatic myself. And yet she didn’t bat an eyelash. All she said in response was, “No. That’s you, Miki-chan.”

As with every other day, her beam was spinning endlessly…but today, it reminded me of a transformation belt.