Loss 2: Two Steps Forward, Three Steps Back

Loss 2: Two Steps Forward, Three Steps Back

Loss 2:

Two Steps Forward, Three Steps Back

W HAT BETTER WAY TO START OFF THE SCHOOL week than with PE? Laps, no less. On the very first period of the day, no less.

Each pant stabbed my throat with cold, dry air. I was already wiped, and they wanted us to go around the whole campus three times? Maybe I could skip one if I let the class lap me, then pretended to finish with everyone.

As I lagged at the back of the pack, my ingenious plan in place, I caught a whiff of summer. Which was strange, given how indisputably winter it was.

A tawny figure appeared next to me. “That all you got, Nukkun?”

Yakishio Lemon was in her element. The class freak. She’d heard “laps,” and she was in her gym uniform first thing in the morning. Amanatsu-sensei’d had a few words with her about that, causing her to start changing then and there, right in the middle of the classroom, which then sparked a scolding from the girls.

“It’s only first period. Gotta pace myself,” I griped. “It’s too early to be running marathons.”

“Oh, come on, this is awesome! It’s never too early to run! Let’s go, get those legs moving!” She dipped behind me and started to push.

Someone help.

“What are you even doing here? Girls are supposed to be on the field.”

“I finished with them forever ago. Didn’t really scratch the itch, so I asked the teacher to let me run with you guys.” A walking nuclear reactor, this girl. I couldn’t decide whether to be terrified or impressed. Suddenly, she stopped pushing and brought her face in close. “Yana-chan told me your sister’s got a boyfriend?”

Yana-chan maybe told too many people too many things.

“ Might have a crush,” I corrected her. “Theories need tangible evidence, and they only form around observable phenomena. I’ve yet to observe any boyfriend, so as far as I’m concerned—”

I took a big gulp of air. Right. Running. Hard to talk while doing that.

Yakishio jogged in front of me and looked back. “You sure like those big words. So, what? She only has a boyfriend if you ‘observe’ him, or…?”

“I’ll know…he exists…at least,” I panted. She was killing me here.

“Then observe. Easy.” My brain was way too oxygen-starved to process what in the world that was supposed to mean, so it was a good thing she kept going. “So, I’ve gotta write this report on ‘community involvement’ as part of my retests.”

“I don’t…remember doing that.”

“It’s sorta under the table. Amanatsu-chan says retests won’t be enough to push me over the line, so she gave me that and told me not to tell anyone or we’d get in big trouble. So don’t tell anyone.”

Apparently I wasn’t “anyone.” Noted.

“What does that…have to do with anything?”

“Observation, remember? Momozono’s track team asked me to join them for practice, so that’s what I’m planning on doing my report on.”

Momozono Junior High was our alma mater and where Kaju was currently enrolled.

“So you’re…saying…”

“You should come with. Try to pick up a few leads on this maybe-boyfriend guy. Your sister in any clubs?”

“Student…council…” I couldn’t keep doing this. Oh god, my legs were getting weak.

“Student council, huh? Wow. Well, I’ll talk to the teacher and see what I can do!” Yakishio smacked me on the back, then zoomed off.

Screw it. I slowed to a walk.

***

That night, I was stirring a pot back home. Kaju and our parents would be back late, so I was on dinner duty. I switched off the stove, broke up the roux, dumped it in, and then hypnotized myself watching it melt until the door opened.

“Oniisama, I’m home.” Kaju came in, her chilled cheeks red from the cold.

“Long day?”

“The student council kept me. So much to do for the students who’ll be graduating this year.” She trotted over, then threw her arms around me from behind.

“Not while I’m cooking,” I scolded.

“I need this. My Oniisama battery is completely drained.” She buried her face in my back.

Some things never changed. And yet she had. She had secrets she couldn’t share with me now. The someday had come.

“There,” she said. “Fully charged. I see you’re making curry.” She scuttled over to the fridge and opened it. “I’ll whip up some salad. Might be a good opportunity to get rid of these pea sprouts.”

Same old Kaju.

I leisurely stirred the curry as it simmered. “You’re general affairs, aren’t you?”

“Vice president, actually, as of last month. Position terms end at the start of the new year at Momozono, remember?” I didn’t, really. Kaju pouted as I searched my brain. “You’ve only been gone a year. Have you already forgotten the sweet memories we shared?”

Memories, I had plenty of. Sweet ones, less so. I mostly remembered all the convoluted measures I had to take to get away from her. “I never interacted with the student council, and I wasn’t in a club,” I said. “Vice president, huh? What’s the president like?”

“His name’s Kawai-kun. We’re classmates. Why do you ask?”

“Just, uh, wondering.”

Kawai-kun, eh? Not Tachibana-kun, then. That didn’t rule out the rest of the student council, though. He could still be among them. Or maybe he was a classmate. I couldn’t jump to conclusions just yet.

“Oniisama, you should turn the heat down.”

Right. I did that.

I eyed Kaju out of my periphery. She hummed a tune while she chopped some lettuce. “You gonna be late more from now on?”

“This week, at least. I shouldn’t be much later than today, though.”

“Hm.”

I kept on stirring, scraping the bottom of the pot. I was going to Momozono with Yakishio tomorrow after school. If Kaju had gotten back a bit before seven today, and that trend continued, then I’d have plenty of time to do my “observing.”

“Oniisama,” she gasped. “Are you going to be lonely without me?”

“Huh?”

Kaju giggled and ground her head against my arm. “Oh, the burdens of being loved. I’ll be missing you too the whole time I’m gone, Oniisama.”

“No self-noogies while I’m cooking.”

What was I gonna do, correct her?

I threw in a pinch of hatcho miso, my secret ingredient, and then lidded the curry. I had to be the perfect big brother today. It was all part of the plan. Couldn’t give her reason to suspect anything, after all.

***

I didn’t get much time to indulge in the nostalgia of being back at my old school.

“Hey, everyone!” Yakishio shouted across the field. “You guys been good?” She thrust her fist up in the air.

The girls copied her. “Yeah!”

The Momozono girls’ track team matched Yakishio’s energy decibel for decibel. A few were in regular school uniforms. Retired third-years, I assumed. Turns out Yakishio had a demographic, even if that demographic was “insufferably loud.”

“She has a magnetic personality. Angelic, wouldn’t you say?”

A forehead glistened to my side. Asagumo Chihaya was the girl genius who’d stolen away Yakishio’s childhood sweetheart, but these days they were practically best friends. Thick as thieves, they were.

Still wasn’t sure what she was doing here. She hadn’t gone to Momozono.

“So, um, Asagumo-san,” I piped up. “I know this is a little late, but you tagged along because…?” Suddenly, a couple dozen eyes all locked onto me at once. “H-hi?” I shrank back.

Voices rose all at once, without order, in a shrill cacophony of surprise.

“Senpai, who’s that?”

“Is he your boyfriend?!”

“No fair!”

“You can see his bones!”

I didn’t recall my time here being quite this tinnitus-inducing.

I looked to Yakishio for a lifeline. She smirked, then locked her arm around mine.

“H-hey!” I sputtered.

She held even tighter when I tried to run. “You wanna know who he is? You tell me! What do you guys think?”

Another ear-splitting chorus.

“He’s your boyfriend! Your boyfriend!”

“She just came to show off!”

“Lame!”

“I want one!”

I couldn’t keep up with this. Yakishio shot me a wink.

“Wrong!” she declared. “Not my boyfriend. This is Nukkun!”

Was that supposed to be some kind of punchline? I wasn’t laughing. And no way it was gonna convince a bunch of tweens.

“Hi, Nukkun!”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Tutor me, tutor me!”

“Can I count your ribs, Nukkun?”

The tweens were convinced. Some girls giggled. Some waved. These were Yakishio’s people all right.

She stepped forward while I was busy dissociating. “All right, who’s ready to run? You guys all warmed up?”

“Yeah!” they cheered.

Were they finally gonna practice? Took them long enough. The plan was for me to slip away while they were busy with that.

I started to make myself scarce when Yakishio’s blazer came flying at me. “Wha—Y-Yakishio!”

She moved to her ribbons next. Right in the middle of the field, she threw them off, one after the other. Then went her blouse. Underneath was her track uniform.

“Relax, Nukkun. I’ve got clothes on,” she said as she lowered the zipper on her skirt.

Congrats on the bare minimum.

Asagumo-san tapped me on the shoulder. I’d almost forgotten about her.

“Hey, you tell her—” I started to say.

“Take these,” she interrupted, handing me Yakishio’s blouse and ribbons.

“Uh…”

“Lemon-san, we’ll fold these for you and leave them over there.” She picked up Yakishio’s skirt, then headed toward a secluded part of campus.

“You’re the best, Chiha-chan!” Yakishio replied. “All right, guys! I wanna see some sweat!”

The girls cheered again.

And I just stood there holding her clothes. Asagumo-san beckoned me, so I trotted over.

She had on a sly grin. “We’ll slip away once these clothes are folded, Nukumizu-san. Don’t worry. They’ll forget we were ever there soon enough.”

Wait, that actually made sense. So that was why Yakishio had put on that display of public indecency… Nah, she was just like that.

I glanced at Asagumo-san. If skirts had pores, it would have been sweating bullets at the sneer on her face. “You sure seem, uh, excited about something.”

“Mitsuki-san used to come here, didn’t he? ‘Excited’ is only the tip of the iceberg. Oh, the things I could unearth…”

She sped up. I had to power-walk to keep up.

Having an accomplice certainly took a lot of the pressure off, but I still had to wonder… What was she doing here?

***

I peeked down the hallway from the second-floor boys’ bathroom. The coast was clear. With a short sigh of relief, I moved, timidly undoing the hook holding my collar together. I took a deep breath.

This wasn’t my usual uniform. Not Tsuwabuki’s but Momozono’s. That classic, all-black ensemble that all junior high boys wore.

“Just me, or did the sleeves shrink?”

The best place to hide a leaf was in a forest, after all. I would be conducting my investigation in my old getup. Truth be told, it was Yakishio’s idea, which was a red flag in and of itself, but secrecy was vital to this mission.

Now how long was she going to take? I glanced at the girls’ bathroom, and right on cue, she appeared.

She spun in place, her long dress billowing. “How do I look? Not out of place, I hope.” Asagumo-san was in the girl counterpart to my uniform.

“No, you’re fine. You look like a junior high schooler to me.”

“I’m flattered.” Her forehead gleamed, and she smirked. “But I feel obligated to inform you that that isn’t the compliment you think it is.”

I thought girls wanted to look young. Had the internet betrayed me yet again?

“Shame I had to borrow Lemon-san’s. It hangs a bit low,” she said. “See? The sleeves go past my arms.” She dangled them out in front of her.

“Yeah, but you hardly notice if you’re not looking for it.”

And hey, baggy sleeves wasn’t a bad look. Not at all. The lit club technically had its own resident runt, but she didn’t count.

Asagumo-san clenched her fists at her chest. “Now, let’s get this investigation rolling. Where’s class 3-4?”

“My sister’s a second-year, not a third-year.”

“I’m looking for Mitsuki-san’s. I’d be remiss to not take the opportunity to learn more about him.”

Why was this girl here? What was her purpose?

“I was class two,” I said. “Dunno what to tell you.” Or wait, that might have been during my second year.

“Do you know where I can find the third-year classrooms in general?”

“Not sure. Third floor? Or they might be in the new building. Are we in the old building now?”

“Did you or did you not attend this school, Nukumizu-san?”

Everybody’s a critic. My memory was just a bit fuzzy.

Asagumo-san dropped it and pointed down the hall. “Let’s try that way. The first-years are on the second floor, so we can logically assume we’ll find the third-years on the fourth.” She scurried toward the stairs.

“Works for me. Just hope I don’t run into anyone who knows me.”

“Do you actually know anyone here?”

“Uh, no.”

Asagumo-san said no more and climbed the stairs. I followed.

As we climbed past the first flight and moved along to the fourth floor, it started to come back to me. A conflicting mix of nostalgia and incongruence. Memories reformed themselves before my eyes.

I used to skulk up these stairs every morning. On the seventh step was a strip of nonslip material that had been peeling for as long as I could remember. It was fixed now.

We made it up, and I was only a little out of breath. I stared down the empty hallway, the evening sun casting sheets of orange through the windows. It had only been a year, and yet it felt so surreal to be back. Like I was standing in an old photo.

“Mitsuki-san’s old classroom must be down there. I’ll be right back.” Asagumo-san dashed off, eyes (and forehead) twinkling.

I went at my own pace, stopping beneath the plaque that read “3-2.”

This was me. My old class.

The sounds of footsteps climbing the stairs cut my sentimental brooding short. I couldn’t stand around waiting to be caught, so I checked that nobody was inside, then took refuge in the classroom. I looked for my seat. Third from the back, window side. A moment’s hesitation, and then I sat. I could still see city hall from here. That hadn’t changed. But everything felt so much smaller now.

“Only a year…”

I used to sit here every day and stare out through this window, thinking about how little I fit in. How I didn’t belong here. How I felt no more connected to my own classmates than the nameless faces down on campus.

*****

Third-year Momozono Junior High School student of class two—Nukumizu Kazuhiko.

Or so they call me. That whole first part is only until March. Everything’s temporary. Fleeting. Just another reason why friends have never really mattered to me. Not once.

I rest my elbow on my desk and open up a book I borrowed from the library. I’ve been really into The Lapis Kingdom lately. It’s about the adventures of a high school girl named Ryouko who gets sent to a Chinese-style fantasy world. The newest arc just started in volume seven, and it centers around Ryouko being proposed to by the emperor of an enemy nation. Frankly, I’m on the edge of my seat.

Come on, Ryouko. What are you doing, making eyes at some mysterious hot guy just because he’s nice to you? You know that tsundere general back home’s only playing hard to get!

I start to turn the page, but freeze.

“I’m serious!” the girl in the desk next to mine shrieks. “It was five! Five whole times!”

That’s Yakishio Lemon. A classmate. She strikes a pose with her long, tanned limbs and spins like some ballet dancer, throwing herself right against my desk.

“Oh, my bad!”

“S’fine,” I mumble, closing my book.

“What are you doing, Lemon?” one of her friends ribs.

“Sit down, crazy,” says the other.

“But…” She sends me an unwarranted glance. I wish she’d leave me alone. I’m perfectly content going unperceived. “I’m real sorry!” She puts her hands together apologetically, then returns to her seat.

Back to my book. I open it again and resume reading, but my focus is ruined.

Yakishio Lemon. She’s captain on the track team or something. They talk about her a lot at assemblies.

Sporty. Popular. Attractive. She’s everything I’m not. I wouldn’t be surprised if I go the entire rest of my life never speaking another word to her. She reminds me of something, actually. Her tawny face. The way her dress hung from her body when she spun like an idiot.

“Cute mushroom,” I mutter to myself. And then I look up, and what do I see but a remarkable specimen of pleurotus eryngii.

Except it’s Yakishio.

“Mushroom?”

“Wha— I, er…!”

She gets in close and studies me. “You a book guy, Nukumizu? Whatcha readin’?”

“It’s, um, from the…”

“Lemon!” one of the girls shouts over me. “We’re going!”

“Be right there!” she shouts back. “Sorry for buggin’ you, Nukumizu.”

“O-okay,” I reply.

She knew my name.

She dashes off like the wind, and silence finally returns to the classroom. Now I can get back to what really matters—Ryouko’s struggle to maintain peace in the land.

…

It’s awfully quiet. I look up and realize that I’m alone.

“Wait, we’ve got music next.”

I fish my recorder out of my bag, then hurry to the music room.

*****

I looked around the room. My time here hadn’t been much. I stared out a window. Read novels. Sometimes textbooks. I didn’t regret it, per se, but I did understand something now, looking back.

However I might have felt in the moment, I was never out of place. I had belonged here.

I found a bit of amusement in the knowledge that past me would have probably had an aneurysm if he heard about the place I belonged to these days.

When I glanced outside, I noticed I couldn’t see the track girls anymore. Maybe they’d gone off campus. “Please, for the love of God, Yakishio, don’t make things complicated.”

“You called?” Scaring the absolute hell out of me, Yakishio pulled the seat back from the desk next to me and sat down. I could see wisps of steam rising from her sweaty, extremely underdressed body. “Whew, that was a good run. It’s nice to see the next generation can hold their own.”

“What, uh… What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with the girls?”

“They’re busy playing tag. Told ’em drinks were on me if they could catch me.”

“Tag. Indoors?”

Complications: burgeoning.

Yakishio fanned her face with her hand and faced forward, toward the blackboard. “Yeah, I remember this. This was my seat, wasn’t it?”

“Was it…?” Didn’t want her thinking I was creepy for remembering something like that when we’d barely talked.

“Come on, you remember. We sat right next to each other.”

“You knew I existed?”

“Of course I did. Never could figure you out, though. You were always on your own reading books.”

Couldn’t really argue with that assessment.

“So I was just the loner guy who reads books, then.”

“No, there was more. What was it?” She crossed her arms and pondered that quandary. Then she clapped once. “You were a stalker!”

I could argue with that one!

“I was not!”

“Or maybe you were being stalked. I forget. Sorry.”

As she should’ve been. Wait, what? “I had a stalker? Since when?”

“It was this tiny girl with long hair. Ring a bell?”

It did, actually. I regained a measure of calm. “She was around me that much?”

“Pretty much every free period, yeah. Heck, she’d be peeking during class sometimes.” And I’d been none the wiser. “Talk about obsessed. You ever notice her hanging around your home?”

As a matter of fact, I had. We lived together.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that was probably my sister,” I confessed.

That made Yakishio of all people cringe. “Why was your sister stalking you, Nukkun?”

A fantastic question.

“Don’t worry about it. She’s one of the good ones.”

“I didn’t know there were good stalkers. Huh.”

There weren’t. Damn it, why’d she have to believe me with those innocent eyes?

“You met her at the festival, remember? She came to visit that one time.”

“Oh, right. I forgot. Yeah, now I’m sure. She was totally the one stalking you.” Her eyes suddenly narrowed, like she just realized something.

“What?”

“You’re the stalker today.”

That, I could not deny. But it was for a good cause. My sister’s safety was on the line. I wasn’t just some stalker. I was a stalker for justice.

“Yakishio, aren’t you playing tag right now? Should you be sitting around here?”

Right on time, a group of girls in track uniforms appeared at the door.

“Senpai located!”

“She’s over here!”

“And they’re flirting!”

Yakishio bolted up. “Yikes, gotta go!” And then she flew through the other, unguarded door on the opposite end.

The girls gave chase.

I got up next, at a slower pace. This was no time for directionless trips down memory lane. I had an investigation to conduct. I considered regrouping with Asagumo-san, but then again, subtlety wasn’t exactly her strong suit.

Right on time yet again, she poked her head into the classroom. “You were flirting.”

“I don’t need you bullying me too, Asagumo-san”

“I’d do no such thing. Anywho, I’ve gotten what I came for. Shall we?” She waved me over and started walking.

“Where are we going exactly?”

“I didn’t want to interrupt you two, and so I went on a bit of a walk. I happened to stumble on the library.”

“Wouldn’t the librarian be there? How’d that go?”

“Oh, we hit it off. I’ve seen campus maps, class rosters, and even gotten a rundown of the clubs. I know every student by name.”

Excuse me? Who was this woman? I lagged behind her as we started down the stairs. “Every single student? That fast?”

“There’s a trick to it.” She put a finger to her big forehead. “I memorized the pages as images, so all I have to do to recall them is flip through them in my head. It’s much more efficient that way.”

How did that simultaneously make all the sense and absolutely none whatsoever? Asagumo-san wasn’t human. It was the only explanation.

She turned to me and beamed. “I’ve even looked into the relationship between your sister and Tachibana-san. There’s only one person in the whole school with that surname, including faculty.” When we reached the bottom, she twirled fully around, the hem of her dress fluttering. “Tachibana Satoshi, second-year, class four. Member of the gardening club. Male.”

***

The gardening club was apparently around the back. “Apparently,” because this was, in fact, the first I’d even heard of such a club’s existence. Asagumo-san had memorized all of campus, and at this point she probably knew Momozono better than I did.

She lightly bowed to some third-years as we passed them by in the hallway. “The library really was something. Larger than even Tsuwabuki’s, I want to say.”

“It got combined with another room during renovations or something. The school got picked for some education initiative, so I guess they wanted to make it big or something.”

Or something.

Asagumo-san stopped and pointed out a window. “That’s where the gardening club conducts their activities. Just next to the greenhouse.”

I looked. I saw the greenhouse, and next to it was a garden about half the size of a classroom. A boy in a blue jersey was walking around it, spreading this white powder from a bag he needed both arms to carry.

“And that’s Tachibana-kun,” she said. “I saw his photo in this year’s club registrations.”

So that was the guy. I gulped.

He looked short, even for his age. He was slim and kinda small, but that was to be expected for a junior high kid. And he didn’t look half bad. His eyes were sharp. There was this quiet allure to him that was hard to describe. Here was a guy who could pull whoever he wanted.

Guys like that were trouble. Objective truth. Time to get cracking.

“Let’s go, Nukumizu-san.”

“Huh? Wait.”

Asagumo-san went outside and straight up to him. It took me a bit longer to work up the courage.

“Hello,” she said to the boy. “Do you have a minute?”

“Uh, sure. Need something?”

Asagumo-san put her hands to her chest and bowed. “We’re the Watanabes. We’re first-years, and we were wondering if we might observe the gardening club for a while.” First -years? She could not be serious. And we’re the Watanabes? She sent me a sly glance. “We’re fraternal twins. Isn’t that right, Kazu-kun?”

“Huh? Uh, y-yup. Sure are, Neesan.”

Did we need the convoluted setup?

Tachibana seemed to only barely buy it. He set the bag on the ground. “By all means. I’m Tachibana, a second-year. So you’re interested in gardening?”

“We have been for a long time,” Asagumo-san said. “What were you doing just now?” She eyed the ground at his feet.

“Getting ready to plant some cabbages. We’ve got some seedlings we’ve been raising in the greenhouse if you wanna take a look.”

“We’d love to.”

The one called Tachibana started that way, and Asagumo-san made to follow, but I grabbed her by the arm. “Twins? What’s that about?”

“There are six Watanabes here. I thought it made a good cover, myself.”

“What does that have to do with being twins? No way that lasts.”

“Should I have gone with fiancés then? Taken a romantic comedy angle? I admit, that would be exciting, wouldn’t it, Kazu-kun?”

Why was she so into this?

The inside of the greenhouse was fairly small, but well-kept. “We raised these here from seeds,” Tachibana said. “They’re just waiting on their last pruning now.”

He smiled at a large worktable in the center. An arm-sized tray sat there, packed with pots. Miniature ones made of plastic. Inside those were several leafy seedlings each, presumably waiting to be transferred to the garden outside.

Asagumo-san studied them with intense curiosity. “You mean to remove the leaves, yes?”

“Leaving the biggest ones. We want to thin out the less desirable sprouts of the bunch. Wanna give it a try?”

“Absolutely.” She wasted no time getting to work.

“Asa—Neesan,” I interjected, “you’re awfully into this.”

“Some things can’t be memorized from textbooks, Kazu-kun. Think about it. What constitutes the ‘biggest ones’? There are so many factors to consider, like height, stem circumference, and leaf width. Give it a try. Work that head less and move those hands more.”

Was it just me, or was this role consuming her?

“You’re her brother, right?” Tachibana asked. “We could use the help.”

And now the junior high schooler was treating me like a kid.

“What do you need me to do exactly?” I conceded.

“Start pruning this row here. Take it slow. No rush.”

But leave the biggest ones. Right. I picked one. Or wait… Maybe that one. But that one had really cool leaves.

“No need to think too hard,” he said. “Go with your gut.”

“Won’t they, like, wither or something if I prune the wrong sprouts?”

Tachibana laughed. “There are no wrong sprouts. It’s about seeing what happens and learning from the experience. That’s what clubs are for.”

Was this guy more mature than me? Definitely more than Yanami. That required no debate.

After we’d been at it for a good ten minutes or so, Asagumo-san wiped the sweat from her sizable brow with a beaming smile. “Whew. I think I’m done, Senpai.”

“Just finished myself,” Tachibana replied. “How’s little bro coming…along. Good. Looking good.”

Said no one ever when it was actually looking good.

He hoisted the tray onto a shelf, then dusted his hands off. “We’ll be planting them next week. You should definitely come visit us again for that. What class are you?”

“Er…” I had not been informed of this.

Before I could make a fool of myself, Asagumo-san grabbed my arm. “We should be going to see the teacher soon, Kazu-kun. If you’ll excuse us, Senpai.”

“Oh, okay. No worries,” said Tachibana. “Well, someone’s always here after school, so feel free to stop by whenever.” He flashed a debonair grin.

“I assure you, we will. Thank the kind man, Kazu-kun.”

“Uh, th-thank you.”

With a low bow, we hurried away. I could feel the guy watching us all the way back to the building.

Once inside, I could finally breathe and weasel out of Asagumo-san’s grasp. “Wasn’t exactly natural, dipping as soon as he asks what class we’re in.”

“What else were we supposed to do? And Lemon-san’s contacted me anyway.” Reading my confused expression, she flaunted her wrist at me. “Your big sis invested in a smartwatch!”

I’d heard of those. They could connect with your phone and share functions and stuff.

On the screen was an odd message from Yakishio: “Class-S inbound.”

Asagumo-san waved her finger disapprovingly at the furrowedness of my brow. “Come now, Kazu-kun. Lemon-san hasn’t been running around here and there just for the fun of it. She’s been scouting around campus for us, keeping an eye out for a particular target.”

And Class-S was this target. S for “sister,” I supposed.

“If Kaju’s on her way, we’ve gotta get out of here.” I turned and ran, but nearly crashed into someone directly behind me. “Whoa! Sorry, wasn’t looking.”

“My bad. You okay?” a girl asked. A very tall girl with a hoe across her shoulder.

I knew her. I swore I’d seen her somewhere before.

“Gon-chan!” came a voice I definitely knew. “Are you there?!”