Loss 3: It Takes a Thief

Loss 3: It Takes a Thief

Loss 3:

It Takes a Thief

T HE DAY AFTER RESIGNING MYSELF TO EVIL, AT THE old annex’s fire escape. Lunchtime.

I leaned against the railing and pierced my milk carton with the straw. “Sorry for dragging you guys out here.”

In front of me, sitting on the stairs and opening their lunches, were Ayano Mitsuki and Sakurai Hiroto.

“What’s this about, anyway? This isn’t like you.” Ayano looked askance at me as he bit into his bacon-wrapped quail egg. Guy always did have fancy lunches. Perks of having parents who liked to cook.

“Whatever it is, I’ve braced myself.” Sakurai-kun, with the placid grin of a Buddhist statue, grabbed a length of boiled fuki with his chopsticks. He’d just recently started cooking himself and even made the student council president’s lunches. Total house husband vibes.

“Thanks,” I said. “I wanted to pick your brains about this new student the lit club’s been looking after.”

Secrets would only make this more complicated, so I told them everything. Piece by piece.

Ayano put his chopsticks down. “A lot of that sounds private.”

“Obviously don’t go spreading it around, but I had permission to share.” To how many people was ambiguous, but this was probably fine. Probably.

“I’d heard bits and pieces, but definitely not all that,” Sakurai-kun said. He stared at a meat-wrapped burdock root with that well-practiced look of exhaustion on his face.

“She says she wants to settle things,” I continued. “But the guy’s going to be her brother-in-law. Can’t exactly confess and move on like nothing happened. I don’t have a clue what she’s planning.”

Ayano nodded and picked his chopsticks back up. “With a record like hers, you’re right to be worried. If she pulls the same kind of stunt again, she won’t get another slap on the wrist.”

He turned to Sakurai-kun, who looked up in thought. “I can’t speak for the faculty, but I’ve certainly never heard of two consecutive suspensions.”

The implications were obvious. I downed the rest of my milk. “That’s why I wanted some advice. I’m sorta stuck helping her now, but I really don’t want a run-in with the law. And I’m, well, a guy, so I’m not sure how to come up with an alternative that’ll satisfy a girl’s, uh, sensibilities, y’know?”

Their confusion was immediate and palpable. They looked at each other.

“Nukumizu,” Ayano said, “you know we’re guys too, right?”

“Yeah. I think you’d have better luck asking some of your clubmates,” Sakurai-kun agreed.

Naturally, I’d anticipated this. “That’s the thing. It’s taken me a year, but I think I’ve figured it out. The lit club girls…aren’t girls.”

They gaped like they wanted to retort but bit their tongues. Literally.

“Honestly, you two run laps around them in terms of femininity. So think you can help?”

Ayano scrunched his brow. “I guess I could probe some acquaintances, but don’t get your hopes up.”

“Same here. I’m not particularly confident that I can speak on behalf of all women, to be honest.”

That was enough for me. Being in the lit club had seriously done a number on my grip on normalcy. “Now you’d better eat before the bell rings.” Sakurai-kun started to put up his lunch box.

I’d lost track of time. He was right. If I waited to eat this till later, I risked it being snatched by Yanami. I opened up my curry bread packet and listened to their anecdotes while I ate.

That was when I remembered the sorts of girls they were acquainted with. I immediately forced myself to forget again.

***

You could cut the tension in the club room with a knife. Yanami and Komari were dead silent. Before Shiratama Riko were three envelopes. The big, A4-sized ones for fitting full sheets of paper or notebooks. On them were written the kanji for “pine,” “bamboo,” and “plum” respectively. Denotations for rankings, of sort.

“I compiled three plans last night. Please, take your pick, President.” She gestured to me across the table.

What if I didn’t want to pick?

“Go on, Mr. President,” urged Yanami, to my side.

“H-hurry it up, President,” pressed the angry one, to my other side.

They literally only ever called me that when it suited them.

After much waffling, I picked bamboo. Plan B, as it were. A truly middle-of-the-pack choice. How Japanese of me.

“Is this a flyer for real estate?” I asked.

A rental, to be precise. Quaint little place up in the mountains just north of Futagawa Station.

“I found the perfect property down in Futagawa,” Shiratama-san said. “Quiet. Few neighbors. It even has a basement—”

I returned the flyer to the envelope. “Can I see the others?”

“But I haven’t told you the plan yet.”

And I wanted to keep it that way. I went for pine (Plan A). Inside was a travel brochure. The cover depicted a big, fancy cottage on the water.

“What is this?”

“They’re going to Tahiti for their honeymoon. They’re always busy, so they’re using it as an excuse to relax.”

Yanami had snatched the brochure from me before Shiratama-san was even done speaking. “No way, this is so romantic! Imagine laying back, gazing at the stars together.” But the light of secondhand excitement left her eyes as quickly as it had arrived. “Right. Honeymoons. First wedding. Then honeymoon…”

We were dangerously close to one of her episodes. I gave Komari the signal. She popped a dried plum in Yanami’s mouth. Still very visibly dead inside, she chewed while I gently retrieved the brochure from her hands.

“What’s the plan?” I asked.

“My sister and I look nearly identical from behind,” Shiratama-san said. “We rent the neighboring cottage, then when night comes, we swap places and—”

Back in the envelope it went. That left the plum plan, and I prayed beyond hope that it would be a decent one. In the final envelope was a bunch of random documents and catalogs.

“Is this your sister’s venue?”

“That’s right. Those are all for the wedding. Brochures, quotes, estimates, the seating chart—I made copies of everything.” Shiratama-san began to sort the many, many papers but stopped. She’d frozen on a picture of a pure white dress with long sleeves.

A wedding dress.

“This is it,” she said. “What I intended to wear and take photos in at the altar.” She shook her head and turned it over. “My sister was first in everything. I wanted this. Just this one little thing I could say I had first. Then maybe I could finally come to terms with it. Call Tanaka-sensei ‘Oniisan’ like I’m supposed to.” A moment of stunned silence later, and she began to collect them again. “It’s ridiculous. Let’s go with one of the other—”

I lurched forward and slammed my hand down on the papers. “Let’s do this one!”

“Nukumizu-kun?!” blurted Yanami.

But really. Had she heard our other options?

Shiratama-san turned her eyes up at me, blinking several times. “But it’ll only be there on the day of. How will we take photos?”

“I don’t know if you’ll be able to put that exact dress on and do that, but what’s stopping you from taking photos anyway? In a different dress?”

“At the chapel?”

“At the chapel.”

“Not enough.” That threw me for a loop. Not enough? Shiratama-san leaned forward. “What if we got photos with Tanaka-sensei?”

“At the chapel?”

She nodded. “At the chapel.”

That was pushing it. Take a couple photos at a wedding chapel, with the groom, without him knowing? She could not be serious. Even she had to understand how insane an idea that was.

Her eyes glided over the other two envelopes.

“Let’s do it.”

She lit up. “Really?! Then let’s not waste time.”

Immediately, Yanami and Komari grabbed me by my arms and dragged me to a corner of the room.

“What’s the deal?” I demanded.

“You’re actually going through with this?!” Yanami barked. “I don’t know about you, but I would rather not have a criminal record!”

“D-die alone! Don’t d-drag us down with you!” Komari sputtered.

What were they losing their heads over a few photos for? All we were doing was crashing a wedding so we could get a few candid shots of the groom completely against his…will.

“Wait, is this illegal?”

They nodded.

Yanami sighed and whipped around. “I totally get you, Shiratama-chan, but this isn’t as simple as you’re making it out. Just renting a dress’ll be real pricey, and that’s not even touching how expensive a professional photographer will be. We don’t have that kind of money.”

“I know. I thought of that.” Shiratama-san placed a card on the table. The kind distributed by Toyohashi Shinkin Bank. ToyoShin for short. “I’ve been saving every bit of birthday and New Year’s money I got for the past fifteen years. This has a million yen on it easy.”

Our jaws hit the floor. We were extremely speechless.

She pushed it forward. “It’s yours. Use whatever you need.”

Ours. Yeah. No. Just accept a casual million yen like it’s nothing.

I could feel the others staring holes into me, so I stepped forward. “We, uh, definitely need money, but you can help when that comes up. Keep it for yourself.”

“What he said,” Yanami agreed. “You’ve still gotta pay for transportation and food and stuff. Living’s expensive.”

I could see those hands creeping.

“I’m asking a lot from everyone, though. This is all I can do to help.” Shiratama-san’s voice fell to a murmur. Her head hung low.

Even more reason we couldn’t accept. “Listen, we’re your senpai. That’s all the motive we need to lend a hand.”

Komari nodded in agreement.

“Oh, thank you. Thank you, everyone.” Shiratama-san wiped the beginnings of tears from her eyes.

“Still,” I said, awkwardly scratching my face, “it’s not gonna be easy getting those photos under your sister’s nose.”

We’d have to study those papers thoroughly. Come up with a step-by-step plan.

Wait. We were doing this. We were actually doing this. When did that happen? Even Komari looked convinced, and Yanami was on board the moment she smelled money.

“I got caught pretty fast the first time, so I don’t actually have a good idea of the venue layout,” she passionately began to explain. “It’d be best if we could scope the place out before—”

“Shiratama-san,” I interjected.

“Yes, President?”

Those eyes. So bright. How was I going to break this to her? Definitely not point-blank. I had to play this safe. Gradually shift her thinking with different ideas without outright rejecting her own.

Then, no sooner than I heard footsteps and voices in the hallway did the door burst open.

“Entering!” boistered Houkobaru Hibari, student council president. With a cursory bow in our stunned direction, she strode across the room. “So you are the one called Shiratama Riko-kun.”

“Um, yes,” she replied. “You’re the student council president?” The girl was frozen to her chair.

The president batted her hair away with a suave expression that seemed permanently glued to her face. “Excuse me. Introductions are in order. I am indeed she, Houkobaru. I have heard much about you, Riko-kun!”

“You have?! What exactly?”

Amidst our flummoxed flabbergastment came an out of breath Sakurai-kun. “Hiba-nee,” he panted, hand to his chest. “I said wait.” He staggered toward the towering president. “You’re frightening everyone. Let’s go, before we make even bigger nuisances of ourselves.”

“Now, now, Hiroto. You’re interrupting.” The president, in complete disregard of the wise man’s words, placed her hands on Shiratama-san’s shoulders.

“E-excuse me?” she sputtered.

“Yours is an imperfect, clandestine love! Your spirit, womanly in its unwillingness to yield! As a woman myself, I greatly admire you. Let me assist!” the president declared, as if to the heavens.

Sakurai-kun looked ready to beseech them for help.

Shiratama-san gradually dethawed enough to move her lips again. “And where did you hear about me exactly?”

“That boy right there. Hiroto told me everything. Rest assured, he and I are practically family.”

The man in question was now bowing low to me. I might have anticipated this.

“So I told President, who told him, who told you. Is that right?”

“Well reasoned.”

Shiratama-san’s head jerked to me like it was on a rusty swivel. I then learned just how emotive she could be. I learned it very well.

While I wiped some unrelated sweat from my brow, Yanami stopped eating plums long enough to speak up. Not really. But she did speak up. “What was that about you offering to help?”

“Right,” the president said. “If it’s a mark you hope to leave, you can never have too many claws.” She took the venue brochure and flipped through it. “Revenge, is it?”

“Revenge?” I echoed.

She nodded, still reading the brochure. “You’re going to infiltrate the venue again and steal the dress, no?”

“We, uh, gave up on that. The current plan is to secretly take photos with Tanaka-sensei instead.”

“That sounds exceptionally difficult.”

“Well, yes, but—”

“President! There you are!” With a short bow, Tiara-san invited herself in. “The teacher is waiting on you. Did you forget we had an election meeting today?”

“I did indeed,” the president replied. “Is my presence required?”

“Obviously! Shikiya-senpai is doing what she can to stall, but we need you now !”

“Very well. Shiratama-kun, might I borrow this?”

“Oh, um, sure,” she replied. “I have everything we need out of that.”

The president promptly vanished, escorted away by Tiara-san. But my relief lasted only seconds before the latter came stomping back. She glared at me.

“Wh-what?” I stammered.

“You aren’t involving our student council president in anything illicit , are you?”

“Nope. No.”

“Why did you say it twice?” Her eyes narrowed. I wasn’t lying. All of this was of the president’s own free will. “Do anything to besmirch her record, and I will go scorched earth. Not even you will escape, Nukumizu-san.”

With that, she left. In and out like a storm. Only Sakurai-kun remained, his face utterly distraught.

“I, uh, don’t even know where to begin apologizing,” he said.

Yanami shook her head, offering him a dried plum. “It isn’t your fault. It’s Nukumizu-kun’s, and his big fat mouth.”

“What?” I questioned. “It is?”

Yanami and Komari nodded in unison. Well. Whoops.

Shiratama-san was still emoting. In a very interesting way.

***

I read the president’s message on my way to the bike parking lot. My parents had found out about my new biking habit after last semester’s training arc and wouldn’t renew my train pass.

“School tomorrow,” I sighed. The president had summoned us, despite it being a holiday. Seeing as I was president of the lit club, maybe the student council would be open to subcontracting my services if we ultimately did go kaput. Options to consider.

When I arrived at the lot, I found on the back of my two-wheeled partner a creature most cute. It was Shiratama-san.

I stopped a ways away. “Thought you went home.”

“Forgot a little something.” Always with that perfect smile. Was this my reckoning for leaking her personal details to the student council? “What’re you waiting for? Aren’t you going home?”

“Uh, yeah. I am.” I looked down and sped past.

“This is your bike, isn’t it?”

“Oh. Guess it is. Must be early onset dementia.” I didn’t make it far. Even after I removed the lock, the creature remained where she was. “Shiratama-san?”

“President?” Smile. I smiled back. It wasn’t as perfect.

Any more of this and I could kiss my pride as a senpai goodbye. All I’d done was share my plight with trustworthy friends, with her permission. It wasn’t like I was shouting her business from the mountain tops. I had nothing to apologize for.

“I’m a little mad at you, you know,” she said.

“I’m sorry.”

Remember, kids. There’s nothing wrong with admitting fault.

“I opened up to you because I trusted you,” I heard her continue over my lowered head.

“But you, um, said I could tell people.”

“I meant the people who mattered. The people I involved. I can’t possibly imagine how you interpreted that to mean I was okay with you giving the student council the full scoop.”

Fair. Very fair. I had no response. Kept my head low.

Eventually, I heard her laugh. “Stop that. I’m not really that mad.”

“I mean, you’re right to be.”

“I’m just being a little dramatic because I thought it would be our secret.” She finally got off my bike, raising clenched fists excitedly up to her chest. “A lot of people are coming together to make this happen. I’m so ready.”

“W-well, let’s not be hasty!” I flinched back a few steps.

She closed the distance. I smelled something milky and sweet. “You’ll finish what you started, won’t you?” Long eyelashes fluttered over her round eyes. Words as quiet as whispers passed through small, pink lips. “It’s what a man would do.”

***

I wiped the sleep from my eyes. It was the next morning. A holiday. We had no business being here in the club room, and yet we were. “We” being me, Yanami, Shiratama-san, and a fourth looking awfully imposing with her cross-armed power stance.

“Is this everyone?” asked the student council president. “There was one more yesterday.”

“Komari was in the window earlier. She ran. Continue,” I told her.

She nodded, then smacked a piece of paper on the whiteboard she’d wheeled in. Written on it, in old-school brush ink, was “‘Shiratama Riko Strikes Back’ Operational Headquarters.”

Shiratama-san timidly raised her hand. “What, um, is all that about?”

“That, my friend, is my grandmother’s handiwork. She’s a certified calligrapher.” It did look pretty nice, but I doubted that was what Shiratama-san meant. The president snapped open a folding chair and dropped herself onto it in one motion. “Let’s begin the strategy meeting. What have you concocted thus far? How much have you prepared?”

“Um…”

“We’ve only just decided on an objective,” I answered on Shiratama’s behalf. “We don’t have any specifics yet.”

The president nodded and placed a sheet of paper on the table. “Then I suggest we call in an expert. I just happened to stumble upon this yesterday.”

The paper was a flyer. A shoddy one too. It read, “Tsuwabuki Investigative Advisor! For all your undercover needs!”

“What am I looking at?” Yanami grimaced, currently eating her second breakfast onigiri of the hour.

The flyer was littered with such buzz words as “confidential,” “guaranteed legal,” “free consultations,” and “patents pending.” I recognized the aesthetic. Scam-chic. The sort of thing you’d find on a telephone pole.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked.

“Positive. It’s an independent project of one of our students. Highly trustworthy.”

What student was getting up to junk like this? Scratch that. I could think of one candidate. But it couldn’t be.

The president glanced at the clock. “It’s nearly time for our appointment. I took the liberty of scheduling one on your behalf.”

“You what?”

A knock came with horrifying timing. The door crept open, and from its depths emerged someone I knew very well.

She gave a bow, forehead glistening in the morning light. “Thank you for your interest. Tsuwabuki Investigative Advisor Asagumo Chihaya, at your service. And this is…”

Another face I recognized emerged from behind her. “Nukumizu Kaju. Her assistant.”

The lit club girls looked right at me. But this wasn’t my fault. Was it?

…Was it?

***

The Tsuwabuki Investigative Advisor, henceforth referred to as Asagumo-san, wrote two big words on the whiteboard: “Intel” and “Prep.” She circled them.

“Two things you absolutely must prioritize are intelligence gathering and preparation. But more important than even those are…” she wrote “Goal” next, “to share a common purpose. Riko-san, when is the ceremony?”

“Oh, next Saturday.”

Nine days from now. The weekend immediately following Golden Week.

Asagumo-san nodded and proceeded to fill the board with every day until the ceremony. “You have a firm deadline, so your progress will be best tracked via task completion as opposed to milestones. By sharing what intel you currently have, the tasks that need doing will reveal themselves, and seeing as Golden Week begins the day after tomorrow, you’ll have five whole days to focus on them.”

Who would’ve thought that my Golden Week this year would culminate in a crime. Life worked in mysterious ways.

She finished outlining our calendar before facing us again. “You have a clear objective: Take wedding photos with Tanaka-sensei on the day of the ceremony. Plus one condition: Do so in complete secrecy.”

That condition was the hard part. We had a clear path to success but a treacherous one.

I glanced around at the silent audience before raising my hand. “Uh, what if circumstances demand that we change our objective in the moment?”

“Even so, it doesn’t change what needs to be done. That being gather information. Let’s go over what you know so far.” Asagumo-san signaled to Kaju, who switched on a projector. A bird’s-eye map of the city covered the wall. The wedding venue was situated near the center, close to Mukaiyama Oike and Kirinoki High School. “The venue is closed to the public, meaning our only means of learning its layout is via their own photos. Unless you have anything to add, Riko-san.”

She shook her head.

“Then that will take priority,” Asagumo-san continued. “On this matter, I cede the floor to my assistant.” She stepped to the side, making way for Kaju.

“I completed a preliminary examination of the facility early this morning,” she said.

“What? How?” I asked. “When did you do that?” She’d made me breakfast and laid my clothes out and everything.

She only winked at me. “I met the manager outside, whom I spoke with. They host garden weddings at a rate of no more than two events per day, and by reservation only. Exclusive use. No partial rentals.” She tapped her phone, and the projector image changed. “They’re surrounded by walls on all sides for privacy, making the front entrance the only means of ingress. It’s likely Riko-san is the only one who would be allowed in on the day of.”

That certainly complicated things. We wouldn’t be able to fake being there with some other group if reservations couldn’t be concurrent.

“This manager,” I cut in. “You got all this without tipping them off?”

“Not at all. He was quite the gentleman. I even got his business card.”

A gentleman, eh? A gentle man ? Not that I cared.

“Let me see it. You didn’t give him your information, did you?”

I started to stand, but Yanami forced me back into my chair. “Down, boy. So, Sis, how’d it look? Unrelated to the plan, I mean.”

“Oh, it was lovely!” Kaju raved. “I would love to have a ceremony there! Absolutely!” She clasped her hands together and her eyes sparkled. For some reason, they were directed at me.

The president, surprisingly quiet this whole time, crossed her legs. “Hrm. So investigating this venue ought to be our first step. This is your territory, Kaju-kun. Any ideas?”

She nodded. “They’re holding an open house the day after tomorrow, on Saturday. One group canceled, so they had an opening. I’ve already filled it for you.”

Thorough. We already had our in.

“Wait,” I said, “can we even tour a wedding venue if we aren’t planning a wedding? We’re high schoolers.”

Asagumo-san smiled confidently. “But you won’t be forever. Now, which of you will be attending?” She looked us over.

“Yanami-san, why are you standing?” I asked.

“Uh, obviously because the most adult person here oughta go. Duh.”

“Sit down.”

I racked my brain. We needed someone mature. Someone who could carry themselves as an adult. But those were exceptionally rare qualities among high schoolers.

“What? What is it?” questioned the president as every pair of eyes went to her.

Asagumo-san approached her. “What do you say? Will you attend the open house?”

“I would very much love to, but I unfortunately have a memorial service to attend that day. It’s my great-grandfather’s fiftieth death anniversary, you see. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Her eyes shimmered. She would be weird enough to like those things.

“It is what it is, I guess,” I said. “Yanami-san, sit.”

More complications. If not the president, then who?

Noticing my agonizing, the president suggested, “How about Shikiya? She’s as tight-lipped as they come, after all.”

Shikiya-san. She certainly had the maturity, but she still worried me. For a whole host of other reasons. Kaju wrote her down on the whiteboard anyway.

Asagumo-san put her finger to her chin and thought. “Now, who best to send with her? Does anybody spring to mind as a suitable partner?”

Someone who wouldn’t draw too much attention. Someone who wouldn’t be amiss next to a girl like her. Who could possibly fit that bill?

“What about Ayano?” I proposed. “He’s got adult vibes. All he needs is a suit.”

“Vetoed,” Asagumo-san sternly refuted.

“But why? He—”

“Vetoed.” She grinned at me. But there was nothing happy about it. “He will have plans that day. We might just hold a memorial service for you .”

“All right, not Ayano! President, do you know anyone?”

She shrugged. “I’d rather not involve more people than we already have, frankly. Someone of the literature club or student council would be best.”

Tamaki-senpai? No. His girlfriend would raise hell. Didn’t want to be the instigator of a massacre.

“Why doesn’t Nukumizu-kun friggin’ do it?” Yanami grumbled.

“Huh?”

“You’ve got such a problem with me, you must be so much better.” She sullenly started on her third breakfast just fifteen minutes after her last one. A sandwich this time.

“You can’t be serious. I can’t pretend to be an adult.”

“She might be on to something,” the president said.

“How?”

She stood and put her hand on my shoulder. “You’re on the taller side. With the right outfit and makeup, you just might pull it off. Thoughts?”

Kaju was the first to shoot her hand up. “I want to see my Oniisama in a suit! In fact, I might as well go with him! I nominate myself as partner!”

Yeah, right. I stood and put her in a chair in the corner. “You have plans with friends. You’re going to an amusement park in Hamamatsu, aren’t you?”

“No,” Kaju mumbled, avoiding my gaze.

I took my phone out. “Our calendars are synced. Can’t lie to me.”

“But our wedding!” Kaju objected.

The one that would never happen?

“If there are no objections, then we’ll move forward with Nukumizu-san as our number two,” Asagumo-san said, writing and circling my name. She admired her work, then nodded. “Okay, so our next goal is to prepare for the open house this Saturday. I can provide the tools we’ll need to conduct a thorough examination, but I’ll have to ask the parties involved to arrange their own clothing.”

A suit, I assumed. I could borrow one of my dad’s, but that didn’t make me any less of a high schooler.

“Guys, I’m not sure—”

The president clapped her hands, silencing me. “It’s going to get busy now! Riko-kun, will you be able to acquire a wedding dress?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I actually just found a used one that would be perfect.” Her voice suddenly dropped. Then, just as suddenly, she sprang to her feet. “President!”

“Yes?”

“Why are you doing all this?” The president didn’t immediately answer. Shiratama-san stepped closer. “You have college exams, and you’re the president of the student council for crying out loud. You can’t have time for this, can you? You can’t risk this. You have too much to lose. Don’t you?”

Finally, she smiled. A defeated gesture. Then she stood before us. The ones with nothing to lose. “I told you. I admire you as a woman. We’ve all been burned by love in some way, have we not?”

“But if we mess up, you could get in serious trouble.”

“Then we won’t mess up.” The president took a lock of Shiratama-san’s hair in her hand and let it fall through her fingers. “I look forward to seeing your dress.”

***

After school the next day. I was on my way to the nurse’s office. Had to fill Konuki-sensei in on the latest developments. I wasn’t looking forward to it, but if I didn’t pop in on occasion, she’d take it upon herself to do so at the club room. At her own discretion.

On my way to the central building, I spotted Komari just as she exited the library. She’d ditched us yesterday, so I had a bone to pick with her. I was gonna do so when a boy came out and called after her. I sort of recognized him. He was a third-year with the library committee. In his outstretched hand was a book.

Komari froze in place like a deer in headlights. Because of course she did. She could hardly form proper sentences with other girls her age, much less an older boy. This was a job for yours truly.

But then I saw the impossible. Komari accepted the book and thanked the boy.

She could, apparently, speak now. It used to be that she’d be stuck there in cryogenic stasis until someone came and snapped her out of it. Weird. Wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Her head still hung low, she started walking toward me and nearly crashed before realizing who I was. “Wh-whuh? What are you d-doing here?”

“Visiting the nurse’s office.” I glanced over her head. The boy was already gone. “What did he want?”

“Th-the book I asked for came in.”

So it had. She cradled the tome in her arms. But I had to get a move on before Konuki-sensei wandered off to God knew where. I said a quick goodbye to her and hurried off. She followed.

“Same way?” I asked.

“Wh-what does it matter?” she grumbled.

A lot, generally, if your goal was arriving at a specific destination. Her business, though.

“Right. So yesterday—”

She glanced aside at me. “Wh-what are you gonna do?”

“You’d know if you were at the meeting.”

“I m-meant in general. Sh-should we be doing this at all?”

No. Definitely not. If we got busted, it wouldn’t be pretty. Anxiety peered through Komari’s bangs.

“It’ll be fine. We’ve got the student council president on our side.” I gave her a reassuring smile and a firm pat on the head. She squawked and scrambled away.

Crap. Force of habit. She was about the same height as Kaju.

“Sorry!” I blurted. “Wasn’t thinking. Hand moved on its own.”

She continued to shuffle away. Blushing.

“Komari?”

“S-screw you…” Then she was gone.

Welp, I’d just bought myself a one-way ticket to being treated like human garbage for the foreseeable future. I could still feel the sensation of her hair on my hand. Could use better product.

***

Freed from Konuki-sensei’s clutches, I stood in the courtyard and took a long, deep breath. I was tired. That was the long and short of my encounter with the nurse. Tiring. Amanatsu-sensei and Shiratama-san’s sister were incredible for being long-time friends with that woman.

A strong breeze carried the raspy calls of birds. Ugly things, but it was all the same to those who could understand them. The speakers were nowhere to be seen but nonetheless audible. I’d begun looking for them, until a thought occurred to me. Maybe I didn’t need to find them. Maybe listening to the voices was enough. It was certainly calming—the echoes, comforting.

I shut my eyes. Alone in the courtyard. Alone with the cries of the birds and the whispers of the rustling leaves. My heart, burdened by the darkness of the nurse’s office, knew peace again. I recognized one of the calls. A cinereous tit. It felt like I was standing in the middle of a field in autumn. Could swear I smelled hay on the gentle wind.

I opened my eyes and saw a man in a suit not two meters away from me. Tanaka-sensei, Shiratama-san’s sister’s fiancé. It didn’t look like he was here for me. Just the breeze. We hadn’t seen each other since the incident at the mall.

Before I could decide whether to leave or not, he noticed me. “Nukumizu-kun. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Just doing some thinking. What about you?”

“Heard the birds and felt like listening. Bush warblers in the hedges, maybe.”

Interesting. So that was how they sounded.

He seemed to note my curiosity. “Most have migrated to the mountains around this time of year. The early birds at least.”

“I relate to the procrastinators.”

“Endearing how well they hide themselves, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. It is.”

We stood and listened a while longer. Eventually, though, Tanaka-sensei spoke again. “Hey, about last weekend…”

“Yeah?” I waited on tenterhooks for him to continue.

“Sorry,” he finally said. “For intruding.”

I froze up. I’d braced myself for a bombshell. “Uh, it’s okay. How was her sister?”

“Minori-san? It took her a moment to collect herself. Me too, to be honest.” He tried to laugh but went into a coughing fit.

“Need water?” I asked.

“No, I’m okay. I’m okay now.”

We shared a brief moment of awkwardness.

“So, the wedding is next week. You must be busy.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe. I’ve been in a constant state of restlessness.” He searched me for a reaction but didn’t find what he was looking for. “How much has Riko-chan told you?”

“About her suspension or her sister? A little bit of both.”

Tanaka-sensei nodded and stepped closer. “She hates my guts, Nukumizu-kun. I don’t think she likes me marrying her sister.”

He went quiet, but not because he was looking for a reply. Or anything in particular.

“It must be complicated, seeing someone you’d always considered family suddenly marry your actual family.”

“I’m, uh, sure it is. Puberty.” I tried to leave it at that. But something screamed at me to continue. “I think maybe she just wants some space.” And the more I spoke, the more the something took shape. “We’re high school students. When family changes, our world changes. Because that’s our whole life.” I didn’t understand Shiratama-san in the slightest. I couldn’t comprehend her or the things she was doing. “For Riko-san, her sister is the one who’s always been there for her. And you’re basically her big brother. Someone she’s known almost as long. But both of those things are changing now, and at the same time. She has every right to be upset.”

But one thing about her I absolutely could comprehend—she had a something too.

I put on my best, most mature smile, inspired by Shiratama-san herself, and presented it to Tanaka-sensei. “From one big brother to another, you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

He nodded. “You’re right. I need to be a better example.” He nodded again, then gave me an impressed look. “Thanks. You know, you’re mature for your age.”

“Oh, uh, I’m just ranting. Sorry. Didn’t mean to preach.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m glad Riko-chan has someone like you as her boyfriend,” he murmured to himself. Then he stared out across the courtyard.

I listened to the birds, thinking about all the things Shiratama-san hid beneath her perfect smile. She never stood a chance. A girl fifteen years his junior, a girl he’d watched go from diapers to high school, the little sister of the girl he loved—Shiratama-san never stood a chance. She hadn’t lost, because she never could have won in the first place. Tanaka-sensei was too decent, too loyal, too sincere to see her as anything but his own family.

And for some inexplicable reason, that pissed me off. There was no blame to place at this man’s feet. He was a good person, naivete his worst sin. He’d done little more than be too dense to notice what was right in front of him.

That was enough for me. I was with Shiratama-san now. All the way. Chalk it up to puberty.

***

Golden Week was here. The first of our long, five-day vacation was blessed with perfect weather. I stood in front of the venue, fiddling with my necktie because I could think of no other way to distract myself from the nerves. I’d borrowed a suit out of my dad’s wardrobe just for this: the open house.

No way this actually worked. A second-year high schooler pretending to be an adult with marriage on the mind? Had there ever been a worse miscast in the history of acting? I’d even used some stuff on my hair to make it look nice, but now I could feel the breeze in places I never could before, and it was freaking me out.

A willowy, pale white hand took my tie from me. “I’ll fix it.”

It belonged to my fiancée— pretend fiancée—Shikiya-san. She wore a black dress, her hair done up and adorned with a flower ornament.

“Sorry,” I said. “Just nervous.”

I eyed the building behind her. A fancy, tiled edifice with walls extending from it and around the actual venue itself. The entryway was a trendy, modern design of primarily white and brown colors. I couldn’t see inside very well. Off toward the parking lot, I spied a rustling bush and two figures lurking around it. Asagumo-san sported a headset and wielded a laptop, while Yanami held high a weird, umbrella-esque antenna. Several other places shared the lot, so they wouldn’t necessarily attract the venue’s attention, but that didn’t ease my concerns very much.

“They gonna be okay, you think?” I asked.

“It’s fine,” she rasped. “Be confident.”

“Uh, hey!”

She took my arm and guided me through the front door. First impression: tall ceilings. It was a lot more spacious than it looked from the outside. Further ahead was a counter, the employee on the other side of it flashing us a kind smile.

I stood up straight and relaxed my throat. “We, uh, have an appointment under Shinbashi.”

“Give me just one moment.” The uniformed employee looked down at a tablet. “Shinbashi Kazuhiko-san and Yoshida Yumeko-san, yes? It’ll be just up those stairs.”

Today, I was indeed Shinbashi Kazuhiko, a recently graduated eighteen-year-old with marriage on the mind. Swaying to my side was my fiancée, Yoshida Yumeko, twenty-year-old flower shop employee.

Yumeko lazily looked around then rested her head on my shoulder. She smelled so good, I wished time would stop.

“Where do…the gifts go?” she sighed.

“There’s no wedding. This is only a tour.” Had she been listening when we explained it to her? I left the counter and started toward the stairs before we could blow our cover. “Senpai, what exactly did the president tell you?”

Her finger went over my lips as we climbed. “My name isn’t ‘Senpai.’”

Right. We’re engaged. “Y-Yumeko. What did Houkobaru-san tell you?”

“Something…about a wedding. Yours, I assumed.”

She’d assumed wrong.

While I pondered this and the many other shortcomings of human language, I noticed her staring at me. “Se… Yumeko?”

“I could get used to this.” She played with my hair.

“Q-quit it.”

“Someone’s shy.”

Who was this? Was Shikiya-san always this much of a bully?

“Excuse me,” grumbled a voice directly in my ear. “We can hear you.”

Yanami came in through the wireless earbud in my right ear. Her team out in the parking lot was supposed to send us instructions remotely, but I foresaw this arrangement being more of a burden than any help whatsoever. Didn’t take much foresight when it was happening in real time.

“What exactly do you think you’re hear—Y-Yumeko! I said stop!”

“What’s happening in there?! Answer me! Answer me right—”

I switched it off just as we entered the room where the venue’s presentation would be given. In case it wasn’t obvious, we’d left Shiratama-san behind. Felt like the courteous thing to do given her history with the place.

***

Rewinding a bit to two hours ago, in the lit club room…

Yanami and Asagumo-san looked me up and down, scrutinizing my suited self with very peculiar looks on their faces. They looked at each other and nodded. Words would have been nice.

Shiratama-san finished her own examination and put her hands together. “You clean up well, President. The suit really does make the man.”

I appreciated the kind words, but hers were the eyes of a liar. I was starting to figure her language out. Next to me stood my partner, Shikiya-san, in her dress. I could smell her perfume from here.

Asagumo-san, a cooling patch plastered to her forehead, placed something on the table. A single earbud. “Put this in, Nukumizu-san. We’ll use it to relay instructions.”

“So your voice’ll come through this thing?”

“That’s right. It has a built-in microphone as well, so we’ll be able to hear you too.” She placed something else on the table, this time in front of Shikiya-san. A flowery hair ornament.

Shikiya-san cautiously picked it up. “What…is this?”

“There’s a 360-degree camera hidden in it. Put it on, please.”

So I was the ears, and she was the eyes.

Shiratama-san fidgeted a bit before raising her hand. “Um, and what about me?”

“It would be best if you kept from appearing at the venue until the day of the wedding,” Asagumo-san said. “I’m sorry, but you’ll be on standby today.”

The general presentation would begin at ten this morning. After that would be time for individual questions and therein lay the source of our troubles. I could not stress enough that we were only high school students pretending to be adults. Which meant we had to be as prepared as possible to sell the illusion.

Asagumo-san began to delineate everything on the whiteboard. Shikiya-san and I were young but looking to host a shotgun wedding because of nondescript societal obligations . She’d thought of everything. Addresses, phone numbers, employment, family situations, budget, and even preliminary ceremony plans.

When she’d finished writing it all out, she faced us again and cleared her throat. “Our time to dedicate to this will be severely limited when school starts again. We should endeavor to make the most of the long break.”

“‘We’? I thought you said you had plans with Ayano,” I pointed out.

“He has elected to attend a study camp.” The light left her forehead. “A ‘surprise,’ he called it. He intends to surpass me on the next test. For what good that does me. How thoughtful.”

Ayano hadn’t changed much, it would seem.

I glanced to my side. Shikiya-san was staring at her ornament. “Um, Senpai? How much of the situation have you heard?”

“Most of it. From Houkobaru,” she breathed. “Probably.”

This worried me, but I took her word for it. I’d agonized over worse things. It took more than that to faze this lit club president.

***

Things were going well for the most part. We’d just managed to muddle through our interview, had gotten their recommendations, and were walking through a hall with the other visitors now.

“Would be nice to do fireworks both before and after, but it might not be in the budget. Anything catch your eye, Yumeko?”

“Barrel breaking…would be nice.”

“That’s a classic. Let’s ask about it.”

We were deep in character and extremely interested in everything the staff had to suggest, even going as far to continue our deliberations in private. Only thing was, we were wasting everybody’s time. There was one other nuisance.

“Um, hello, Earth to Nukumizu-kun, can you stay on topic? Focus on the mission? Forget how to sing, Mr. Canary?”

A certain mosquito in my ear was eager to rain on our parades.

I furtively covered my mouth before replying. “The tour’s starting soon. Eyes on the camera so you can make yourself useful, please.”

“Pardon my partner. Asagumo-san here. The image is a little shaky. Can you stabilize it?”

Pros always expected the world of amateurs.

“Trouble?” asked Shikiya-san. Her head fell quizzically to one side. I remembered that the camera was the ornament in her hair.

“Deal with it,” I replied to our invisible puppeteers. “It’s a feature.”

Then I disconnected.

We exited the building and walked out into the actual “garden” part of “garden wedding.” Outdoor couches and chairs littered the lawn. Walls taller than myself surrounded us on all sides, offering complete privacy. At the end of the expanse was the crowning jewel of it all—the chapel. The same modern white and brown. A small, picturesque waterway separated it from the rest of the venue.

That was the place. Where we were supposed to whisk Tanaka-sensei off to for a secret photo shoot with Shiratama-san.

Our guide and interviewer noticed me staring. “Would you like a closer look?”

“Is that okay?” I asked.

“Of course. Follow me.”

We crossed the bridge over the waterway. Shikiya-san followed a step behind me, her attention on the rest of the lawn behind us. “Are we…practicing?”

I could think of nothing more appealing, but now wasn’t the time.

“Just seeing the chapel,” I said. “Can you keep the cam…stand up straight?”

“Gimme.” Her hands snaked around my arm, clinging to it. Sensory overload. Her perfume. So soft. Arm in heaven.

Suddenly, my ear was blasted by harsh, guttural grunts. Yanami oh-so subtly clearing her throat.

We stepped inside moments after our guide. It was a straight path down the aisle to the altar, with rows of pews on either side. A large window on the far wall opened up to a small, pristine waterfall. Gentle sunlight bled through the windows to our left and right, bouncing in just the right way to make the room appear to glow on its own. A fan on the ceiling turned slowly, hypnotically, solemnly.

Shikiya-san clung to my arm as we absorbed the ambient calm. But wasn’t her dad supposed to be the one walking her down the aisle? And the groom would be waiting at the end to take the young florist, Yoshida Yumeko, as his bride. Punk.

By the time we reached the end, my righteous fury had faded enough to let me realize something: There was nowhere to hide in here. The pews weren’t solid. They had spaces in the backrest, so those were a no-go, and the walls were smooth. No corners or conveniently uneven architecture. Even if we managed to get Tanaka-sensei here, how was Shiratama-san supposed to get the drop on him?

“Nukumizu-kun,” Asagumo-san said, sensing what I had. “Can you find anything that could be used as cover? Furniture? Any nooks or crannies?”

“I mean…”

I didn’t even see any station for sound equipment or anything. Probably hidden away somewhere so it wouldn’t detract from the atmosphere. The place was barren. Correction: almost barren.

The altar. A podium stood there, much like in a classroom. I guided the camera—autonomous Shikiya-san model—closer to it. It was pretty basic. The other side was open. Not a huge space inside, but enough to potentially hide someone.

I felt it a bit to give my hand for scale, then nonchalantly moved on. Next, I gave the place a quick walk, measuring its size in paces.

“All right,” I said. “Ready to get going, Yumeko?”

She cocked her head and gave me a confused look. “We aren’t…practicing?”

“Uh, in public?” I shot a glance at the guide standing by the door, who promptly smiled and left. How considerate.

Shikiya-san took my hands, stood us on the altar, and looked into my eyes. “What next?”

“Well, um, a priest would say a bunch of words, uh, w-we’d exchange rings, say our vows, or… Yeah.”

“Yeah? After that?”

After that? After the rings and the vows?

I swallowed. “Then we…kiss, I guess.”

“Excuse me!” Yanami shrieked in my ear. “We’re right here!”

I’d forgotten about her. Entirely. Her very existence as an individual.

“Hey, we’re just trying to stay in character. Get the vibe down. It’s important stuff.”

“Making out isn’t in the script!”

Sure wasn’t. Frankly, though, I was almost glad for the bickering. Pretend or not, being with Shikiya-san like this was bad for my heart. I started to leave.

But her pallid hand was faster. It snatched the earbud right out of my ear. “So we kiss…and then I’m yours?”

“Um!”

She stuffed the earbud into her chest and leaned in close. Closer. Closer. My reflection in her pale eyes grew.

“W-well, technically we have to actually get married first!” I sputtered, voice cracking. She stopped. “The, um, paperwork’s what makes it official. Not the kiss.”

“Paperwork…” She thought about that. Then nodded. “Foiled by bureaucracy.”

Whatever that meant, it was sufficient to get her to free me and start staggering toward the door. I hurried after her. When I caught up, she forced the earbud back into my hand. The one that had just been in her chest. But, well, Yanami would get naggy if I didn’t check in again.

With reverence to the new and exciting implications now in my ear, I pushed open the heavy chapel door. The guide greeted us with a smile.

“Sorry about that,” I said.

“Let me show you to our reception area next. We’ll have samples of the course meals you can expect from us there.”

“Free samples?!” howled Yanami. “I didn’t know there’d be food!”

Because no one had told her. Also, ow, my eardrum.

Practicing saintlike patience, I followed our guide to the reception venue. Thank god Yanami wasn’t around or we’d be cooked. But that was just one of many reasons her being here would lead to disaster.

“Excuse me, what are you two doing there?” a new voice in my ear interrogated. Sounded like an older guy. Security, probably, come to crack down on the antenna-wielding weirdo causing a scene in the parking lot. There was no room for doubt in my mind.

I sighed, doing my best to ignore the frantic excuses the B-team started to hurl.

“Something wrong…Kazuhiko?” Shikiya-san asked.

“Nothing, Yumeko. Nothing at all.” I sighed again and stuffed the earbud into my pocket.

***

That night, I was sitting at my desk.

“I’m really, really sorry. Hiba-nee’s not going too far off the rails, is she?”

I had Sakurai-kun on the phone. He’d been calling just about every night lately, guilty over the president inserting herself into our business.

I shook my head, entirely cognizant of the fact he couldn’t see it. “It’s been smooth sailing so far. She’s been so helpful I might have to thank you.”

“Still, she’s going off even more half-cocked than usual. I keep worrying she’ll take it too far.”

Compared to the disaster human that was Tiara-san, her boss was downright pleasant. I told him so in slightly more polite terms. That seemed to quell his anxieties for now, so he said goodbye and hung up shortly after. If only mine were so easily soothed.

I glanced at the calendar on my wall. Golden Week was here, and the weekend following it was the wedding. Next Saturday, our plan would be put into motion.

“Oniisama, I’m done with the bath.” Kaju scampered in, all cozied up in her blue pajamas. She unwrapped the towel on her head, and wet hair fell over her shoulders.

“You’d better dry that before you give yourself a cold,” I said.

“Help me, please?” She plopped herself on my bed like she already knew the answer. I was spoiling this girl.

I started plugging in the dryer. Something had been on my mind. “When did you and Asagumo-san get so buddy-buddy?”

“Just recently. She’s been very kind to me.”

Troubling. Very troubling. Asagumo-san was a good egg, but as far as role models for your little sister went, she was pretty low on my ranking. At the very bottom was Tsukinoki-senpai, for reference.

Just as I was about to switch the dryer on, Kaju turned around to me. “I wish I could have seen you in that suit. Next open house, you and I should—”

“Drying.” The blow dryer roared to life, effectively shutting her up.

I ran my fingers through her hair as the warm wind caressed it. Too much heat was bad. I had to make sure it didn’t get too hot. Quick yet gentle. Seek and destroy moisture with efficiency.

About ten minutes later, I switched it off and admired my work. Lustrous. Soft to the touch. Not too bad, if I said so myself. I began my final check.

“Wait,” I said, “aren’t those pajamas mine?”

“Nope. I got a matching pair.”

Interesting. But why the exact same color? Curious.

Kaju put a brush in my hand next. It was a present I’d given her, made with real boar bristles. A real work of art and a vital step to the Kaju method.

Slowly, I ran it through her hair.

“How’s school as a third-year?” I asked.

“Well, we have entrance exams to look forward to now, so the teachers have all been trying to get us to think about our futures and stuff. None of it feels very real yet, though.” She waited a second before continuing. “I’m going to apply to Tsuwabuki.”

I’d always known she had a strong interest, but this was the first time she’d said it in no uncertain terms. I kept brushing. “Already decided?”

“Yep. I’ve even talked to my teacher, and we’re putting together a plan. Next spring, I’ll get to go to school with you.” Kaju spoke with an unshakable confidence. Her expression softened. “This time last year, you were all alone and friendless. My plan was to come along so I could be there for you.”