At the Edge of the World

Disclaimer: CCS is not mine.

Chapter Three - Sonomi

The sky is overcast as I make my way over to the assembly hall where we are holding rehearsals. The new leaves are still tight buds, holding firmly to the ends of their branches; soon they will unfurl, spring-green and ready for sakura season. Kinomoto-sensei is already there, wearing a blue shirt rolled up at the sleeves and gray slacks. He is staring at the stage, seemingly deep in thought.

"Good afternoon, Kinomoto-Sensei," I say.

"Ah? Oh, hello, Amamiya-san," he smiles warmly, snapping out of his reverie.

"Are you thinking about the production, Sir?"

He nods. "I am. Perhaps you could help me?"

My gut squirms - a peculiar mix of pleasure and nervousness - though I have no idea why. I turn away in an effort to calm myself, releasing a quiet, steadying breath. Perhaps it's because he's been the first teacher to ask for my opinion? It's refreshing that he seeks my approval (and that probably explains why my face feels so warm); and this peculiar sensation, akin to discomfort – either it's this morning's omurice* (unikely) or (more likely) the great respect I have for him. I mean, I know he's barely graduated from being a student teacher, but there's something about his manner that draws one's admiration and respect. He is the only teacher who has never managed to irritate me. That's right. It's only admiration; nothing more (not even omurice).

"What do you have in mind?" I hear myself ask. That's right, Sonomi. Play it cool. Casual.

"Well," he says slowly, "I was thinking that the parade of souls could actually weave around the heroine, as opposed to traveling alongside her."

I pretend to mull this over. "It would be a better reflection of the chaos," I concede. Really, I don't dispute any of his decisions. There's no point in him asking for my opinion at all – though I am undoubtedly glad for it. "But where would this 'parade' come from?"

"Ah, I considered asking some of the dance club students to help out - so that the souls dance as they weave around her."

I can't help but smile. "You're full of great ideas today, Sensei."

He chuckles sheepishly, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, and the other brushing his hair away from his face. "You're too kind, Amamiya-san."

Sagawa picks that moment to turn up and makes a crowd. It takes all my willpower not to punch him again. I can tell he is confused - he hasn't even spoken to me yet - but I just can't help it. Kinomoto-Sensei and I were getting along so well, too. Bah! The rest of the rehearsal goes smoothly. Halfway through someone orders pizza, so we all stop for a snack. Manami (who plays the part of a stylist in the production) has brought sweets for us to share; I take an extra one for Nadeshiko because she has a notorious sweet tooth. She is presently with the art club, working on our props. I glance at my watch to estimate her time of arrival, preparing for yet another flawed rendition of 'Singing in the Rain'. She never gets the words right.

Nadeshiko pretty much comes with her own manual – she is a creature of habit and is therefore extremely easy to read. A good example of this is in her choice of songs, the genre of which changes on a regular basis following the weekly broadcast of Music Matters on T.V. This has been the week of show tunes. Last week she was humming entire sonatas (and not entirely accurately, might I add). In all honesty she has a beautiful voice but I don't think I've ever told her that; I don't know why. Perhaps it's because whenever I do, she does something irritating and I forget (it's difficult to remember anything beyond her wildly inappropriate chant of "PMS, PMS!" That girl really knows how to get my goat.)

Sure enough, just as the last student is leaving the auditorium, Nadeshiko pops her head around the door.

"Sonomi!"

Kinomoto Sensei has waited behind to go over tomorrow's itinerary with me. He looks up, a little startled, when Nadeshiko walks in.

"Oh!" she says, and has the decency to look abashed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."

I grin at her. "Don't worry, Nacchan. We're pretty much finished here, aren't we, Sensei?"

She grins back, half apologetically, half relieved.

"This is my cousin, Amamiya Nadeshiko," I say by way of introduction, and Kinomoto Sensei rises to greet her.

"Good evening, Sir," she says, and her thick braid falls over her shoulder as she bows.

"Good evening," he says, smiling as usual.

"Nadeshiko's helping out with the props," I explain. "She's in the art club."

"Oh, is that so? Well, thank you very much, Amamiya-san."

"It's nothing," smiles Nadeshiko. "Anyway, if I don't Sonomi assures me that there will be consequences!" She smacks a clenched fist into her open palm for emphasis.

"HEY!"

"Aa, I take it you saw poor Sagawa-kun's black eye?"

"I heard," sighs Nadeshiko, cradling her cheek in mock-sadness. "Such a sad thing."

"I'm right here, y'know!" I grumble. Really, it's as if I were the devil or something.

Kinomoto Sensei smiles again and I feel another odd, swooping sensation in the pit of my stomach that I can't explain.

"You're quite brilliant, Amamiya-san," he says to me, "and if you weren't such a tyrant our production wouldn't even be half as successful."

"Yare, yare. So now I'm a tyrant?" I sigh theatrically, and he and Nadeshiko laugh. "Come on, Nacchan - let's go before Kinomoto Sensei starts comparing me to Hitler."

Nadeshiko and I wave goodbye and set off down the street.

"I like him," she decides, and I can't help but agree.

Glossary

Omurice - A dish that mainly consists of rice and an omlette.