Chapter 25: Susumu

With the school festival in full swing, I haven't had much time to think about anything. I suppose that's a good thing because lately, whenever my mind has had a break, it's always jumped to the worst possible things. Hideo and his words, my parents and their expectations. Kasamatsu and his eyes. And those ridiculous black knee-socks of his.

So I'm grateful for the distraction that the festival provides, grateful that I get to spend most of my time at the school, and working on our classroom — and practicing my singing.

When our homeroom teacher called for ideas for our theme, someone suggested an idol show. The rest of the class loved it, and even I found myself attracted to the idea. The boys began constructing a stage, the girls made flashy costumes, and when they found out I had a good voice and enjoyed performing, I got assigned a solo part of singing in the actual show.

Singing has always been a special outlet for me. I have never talked about it much to anyone else besides Nyoko, but now that I get a chance to perform — in front of the whole school, maybe — I find myself feeling both nervous and exhilarated.

On the first day of the festival, the whole class is abuzz, enthusiasm seeping through the air. Most of us are already in costume, but since I'm apparently the "star," they told me to wait until showtime. The classroom has completely morphed into something else entirely, with the room darkened and the tech side of our class engineering several rainbow-colored lights to flash around. The small stage is at the end of the room, with as many chairs as we could fit situated before it. The room isn't what we spent the most time on, though — it's the show, and it's designed to wow.

We've posted several flyers all around the school and town to advertise our showtimes — today, we're performing four different times, and hope to have a good turnout at each.

"Nakahara-san!"

The voice breaks me out of my daydreams. I've been standing near the side of the classroom, watching everyone dash past me, back and forth, looking harried but excited. Our first show is in roughly an hour, and people are beginning to get antsy.

Fujimori-san, a nice and generous girl, is waving her hand at me, desperate to get my attention. Waiting for the traffic of kids to slow, I dash across the room to meet her.

"What's up?" I ask.

"We have a problem," she says.

"Yeah?"

"You know Higuchi-kun? The electric guitar player?"

"Yeah. The one who stands near me."

"Yes. He's . . . um. He was moving some equipment and hurt his hand."

My eyes widen. "So what's going to happen?"

"I'm not sure. I don't know of any other guitar players, and it's so short notice. Plus, everyone's so busy with their own classes . . ."

I swallow. "I do know someone. But I don't know if he can play electric guitar. Or if he'd be willing. Plus, we only have an hour. Is that even long enough to learn the song and be able to play with me?"

"Doesn't matter." She brandishes her finger in front of me. "Go ask him. Right now. Otherwise, you'll be singing acapella."

I wrinkle my nose at the prospect, and rush off.

The festival is already packed full and I have to move past crowds of parents and their rowdy children, brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, grandparents — all excited to see what the school and its students have to offer. Seeing as Nyoko is in the same class as Kasamatsu, I know exactly where their room is.

When I reach the third-year hallway, which is overflowing with all sorts of cosplay, I have to squeeze my way through to get to class 3-B. When I finally reach the entrance, I take a quick peek to see if I can spot Kasamatsu or Nyoko.

Nyoko's told me all about what her class has been up to, so I'm already fairly familiar with what they're doing. However, I'm still awed by how the classroom looks and the students' costumes.

They chose to do a color theme, using paint swatches to create rainbow murals on the walls and sparkling lights to refract the sunshine from the window. The students themselves have each chosen different shades of the rainbow, and when lined up together, create a beautiful portrait of hues and tones, all mixed together with perfect efficiency. Nyoko helped with the costumes and the food, dedicating a lot of her time to the festival. She said that she and her friends spent several days coming up with recipes they could dye in all sorts of different colors and had a lot of fun with it. As I watch, people move past me and into the room and are seated by a boy dressed in scarlet and a girl in lime green. Servers dance around tables and on their trays I can see the results of Nyoko's work in the rainbow array of mochi, cookies, and other candies and sweets.

I don't see Kasamatsu immediately, but then I spot him in the corner, looking rather uncomfortable, his hands wringing together in front of him. It appears that he's supposed to be serving people but can't get the guts up to — especially since the current crowd is mostly made up of girls.

For a moment, I simply observe him. He's dressed in a light, sky blue color. When I think about it, I understand why they chose the color; it matches his eyes perfectly, and just sort of fits him. It's almost a timid color, when one looks at it at first, but the more you gaze at it, the more you feel soothed by its presence, the easy confidence and surety it possesses; like a pure blue sky that will always welcome you back. That's kind of like what Kasamatsu is like.

I stride into the room, my eyes set on him, but two ushers come up to me, twins, one in black and the other white.

"Hello, miss," one in black says, smiling, and curtsying. "Would you like to be shown to your seat?"

"Thanks," I say, smiling at their costumes, "but I'm just here to see someone."

The two nod, and turn away, rushing off to serve someone else.

Kasamatsu has spotted me by now and there's a puzzled look on his face. I'm almost to him when two small shapes nearly bowl me over. I stumble, but manage to keep my footing. Kasamatsu, however, isn't so lucky.

The two shapes — young boys — tackle him, effectively crashing into the ground. I have to keep from laughing when I realize they must be his younger brothers.

"Nii-san!" one whines. He looks to be slightly younger than the other, maybe around eight or nine.

"It took us forever to get here," says the taller one.

"Really? Well, it's a bit busy." Kasamatsu seems distracted; he keeps glancing at me.

"Are these your brothers?" I ask, even though it's obvious.

As one, the two boys turn and stare at me.

"Who's this?" the younger one asks.

"Your girlfriend?" the other whispers in an almost fearful-sounding voice.

Kasamatsu flushes. I laugh. "I'm just his friend," I tell them. "And since we're friends, I need to talk to him right now. Do you mind if I borrow him for a sec?"

Well, maybe more for a sec. Before the boys can answer, I grab Kasamatsu's arm, and start to pull him out of the room. "H-hey!" he says. "What are you doing?"

"I need you," I say. "I mean — we need to talk. Somewhere less busy. You have a minute, right? You weren't doing anything anyway."

I can feel the muscles tense in his arm. He glances briefly down at my grip and scowls — I know he could easily break out of it and leave, but he lets me lead him out of the room and into a more quiet hallway. With the noise and crowds finally reduced, I let go of him. Crossing his arms over his chest, almost in a protective way, he studies me. "You look normal," he says.

"This is normal," I say, motioning toward my jeans and t-shirt. "I haven't changed yet. My class is doing a performance. Didn't I mention that?"

"Maybe, yeah."

I roll my eyes. "Anyway, the guitar player who was going to play with me hurt his hand. So we need a backup."

He simply stares at me. I wait several seconds for his brain to catch up. I mean, I know he's not slow. He's the captain of a basketball team, where you constantly have to make split-second decisions.

But in matters like this . . . when a girl's involved . . .

He blanches. "You — you want me — ?!"

I nod. "You're the only guitar player I know. Do you play electric, by the way? I mean, I know you're good. How are your performing skills? How fast can you learn a song? Well, I'm sure it'll be fine anyway. You and I've played together before, so that'll help."

His eyes have become like saucers. He says, "I don't think you understand. I play the guitar for fun. It's just a hobby. I'm not cut out for standing in front of a crowd or —"

"All the better," I say brightly. "I like people who are passionate about hobbies. I like people who do things just for themselves, just for fun. That way, you know you'll always love it, right?"

There's a strange look in his eyes as he looks at me. But then he just nods, a sharp movement. And then, I am the one who has a hard time catching up. Did he . . . just agree? To help me? To play with me?

"My brother has an electric guitar," he says, "so I'm familiar with it. It's not hard. What's the piece you're doing? I'll need to take a look at it, and we should probably start working. Your show starts in half an hour, right?"

His captain tendencies are taking over. And he knew when my showtime was. I smile, and I take his hand again. When I tell him how much fun we'll have, I'm not sure if he grimaces or returns my smile — either way, I feel like today's going to be a blast now.

A/N: Okay, so remember I'm not a pro on Japanese school festivals? I actually don't know if Susumu's class would actually do their show in their classroom or if they would use one of the school's auditoriums . . . but we'll go with this. I hope you're enjoying the festival so far!

~ J. Dominique