Chapter 4:

Impasse

It was eerily quiet in the hallways of Karakura Model School. Sure, the occasional voices of teachers and students drifted from classrooms, but otherwise, no one else was out. Miho counted this as a lucky thing. She turned on the tap water, and washed her hands, wincing lightly when cold water touched her knuckles. The skin was red, raw. It ached whenever she clinched her right hand, which she luckily didn't need to do that much.

She let out a deep sigh that echoed across the stalls. Finally, she could think in this silence. Almost always, it would be at home, but all she had time for these days was passing out in bed after her work. Lightly, she sprinkled water from her hands, then dried it with her floral handkerchief. Work? Or punishment, depending on how she saw it.

Work was supposed to be self-satisfying, filled with worthy experiences. All she'd experienced so far was avoiding young mischievous little boys that lock people into storerooms and clinging to the higher-ups. And to never, ever enter said storerooms on ones own ever again. There was also avoiding certain foods served by Tessai, but that's still a tentative lesson. The encounter of suspiciously hued buiscuits haven't made a second appearance, but she couldn't rule that out yet.

Miho leaned against the sink and sighed again. Just thinking about it all brought back the anger and frustration. It was useless, of course, to just blame it on Fumiko and Shige. She was there too, stupidly indulging them. Stupidly indulging Fumiko. What was she thinking exactly? When Fumiko told her about the deserted shoten, why had she agreed? She couldn't even think to ask if people worked there, much less lived that building.

Miho wasn't the sort of person to get herself into such messes. Then again, Fumiko wasn't either. It all boiled down to Shige. The creep.

She pulled out bandages from her skirt pocket and started winding it around her knuckles. It was better to lie low with this injury. Aside from her boss and assistant, her parents were the only other people who know about this. Of course, she made the explanation more digestible by calling it an accident. The last thing Miho wanted was to flush down what was left of her pride.

As if the universe did not slap her with enough disappointments these past few days, the bathroom door swung open and Fumiko walked in.

The surprise was unsettling, both bristling at the sight of the other, but only for a moment. Fumiko straightened up and smoothly walked to the sink furthest from Miho's. Miho turned and made as if to wash her left hand, hiding the bandaged one into her sleeve, suppressing angry words. The silence hung over them longer than Miho imagined.

Uncreased beige uniform. Check.

No zit or pimples. Check.

Reapplying lip gloss (for Fumiko at least). Check.

It was like a wordless language, and they've reached the end of their exchange. Miho was already headed towards the door, when, finally, Fumiko spoke.

"I like what you did to your hair."

Miho blinked, then turned towards her. Not exactly what she expected, given the circumstances that lead to the haircut. What used to be a plain ponytail now hung freely around her shoulders. Her hair is too straight for anything else, but now, there's barely any long strands to tie behind her head. Miho couldn't decide if it was an annoying or refreshing change amid the crazy consequences.

"Thanks," she replied lamely.

"I told you short hair looks good on you," Fumiko continued. "Did the mom mind?"

It was almost familiar, this banter.

"The mom did it herself," gloated Miho, grinning at Fumiko's stunned, wide-eyed look.

"Not bad. Still not thinking of opening a salon?"

"Nah. Better keep her skills to ourselves," Miho winked. It was the newest of stupid conversations to join the rest of the stupid conversations they'd had. But the familiarity almost made her forgot the wedge between them.

"We should go shopping for a new look now."

Miho made a face. "I think a new hairdo is enough."

Fumiko walked over to her and placed an arm around her shoulder. "Honey, the hairdo is the start of a wonderful makeover. "

They walked together out of the bathroom, and it seemed to Miho that there's a hum of happiness around her. This is how it should be. This is how it used to be.

"Maybe we can go after the meeting with Shige."

And just like that, the hum was stifled and the wedge between them reopened. Miho froze with dread and disbelief. Fumiko glanced at her in confusion, as if she couldn't understand her hesitation. "You don't have to worry about him being angry. He was in a really good mood over the baseball trick. The escape plan needed a little tweeking, but hey, we're not all perfect."

Now it was Miho's turn look confused, before it dawned on her that Fumiko mistook her expression for fear. Of… Shige. The thought almost made her snort, but she couldn't bring herself to do that. Everything inside her was numbed down, and something cold moved in the pit of her stomach.

"I can't believe you're still in to this…crap," Miho said stiffly.

Another puzzled look from Fumiko.

"Fumi, I was caught. I had to take responsibility for the damage," she said. It was a miracle she could say this much without shaking the girl and yelling at the top of her lungs.

"Well, everything worked out fine, didn't it?"

She thought her insides couldn't get colder than it already had, but she was wrong. "If you called, Fumi, you'd have known that, no, it didn't work out fine, because now I have to make up for that by working at the shoten," Miho said curtly, and walked passed Fumiko.

She hoped to top this dramatic expose by diving into class and leaving Fumiko in a state of indecisive suffering. Then she'd know who her best friend is. Unfortunately for Miho, timing was forever against her. Fumiko caught up and grabbed her arm. "Look, I don't understand what the big deal is!"

"The deal?" Hissed Miho. "The deal is that because of your... your infatuation with that loser, I have to be dragged in. And I helped him make that...that bomb just so he can destroy properties."

Miho shook Fumiko's hand off her arm, and hissed some more. "Someone could have gotten hurt, Fumi. There were kids in there."

Fumiko rolled her eyes. "God, you don't have to be serious! It was just for fun. And you should have just stuck by us." Miho gaped, and before she could recover, the other girl said airily "You could just ditch the work if you're that annoyed by it."

This is Fumiko, her mind tried to process this. Some months ago, she would actually feel for certain causes. She is your best friend. She is your rock. And yet, everything about her now seemed foreign to Miho. She tried to make sense of this change; instead she felt the fight go right out of her.

"You just don't get it," she said breathlessly.

"Get what?" answered Fumiko, suddenly annoyed, defensive.

She took another breath. It was suddenly hard to speak. "Fumi… Shige isn't worth your attentions, and—wait, before you say anything, just let me say this. He won't be happy until he's hurt someone," she waited a second to let this sink in, then added, "Are you really going to stick around until that happens?"

Not waiting for an answer, Miho turned to go to class.

Author's Note: Finally! I know the updating is slow, but I've been in a writing slump, and it took me a while to catch up to my own story. Also, I feel like the writing style changed in this chapter. I don't know, something seems a bit off while I was writing this chapter. Ah well.

I also found that I'm bad at setting up clues, haha! I was pretty bummed that no one guessed that Jinta was the culprit. Then again, it all happened in my head so I should have just put it out there. Anyway, reviews and comments please! Thank you for those who did already! Made my days. =D