Chapter Twenty-Eight
"Are you out of your goddamn mind?"
"Tsubomi! Language," Fukuhara admonished quietly. She was keeping a watchful eye on the science club as they scurried about the lab, preparing for some kind of presentation. Nervous energy permeated the room, filled as it was by the clouds of gastric vapor steaming from glass beakers by the windows. The steam was tinged a dark violet, filtering the fading light of dusk from outside. They watched as a student used metal tongs to remove a large, round flask of pink liquid, shutting off the gas burner as he whisked the concoction into a nearby exhaust chamber to cool. Behind him, two students were erasing a recipe from the chalkboard while another student wheeled away a cart full of powdered ingredients.
As they continued to move in a collected frenzy, dancing around each other through the tables, they reminded Hanamura of a subterranean research facility – the kind of facility featured in spy thrillers: bubbling test tubes, metal coils, and all manner of alchemic creations.
Her survey of the school's science lab was quickly interrupted as Tashima gripped her shoulders.
"Leave it to me, you said. I'll do everything to make this work, you said. Trust me, Tashima," she reminded Hanamura in a mockingly optimistic tone. "Do you have any idea what this woman is capable of? She's certifiably insane!" She declared in a sharp whisper. "Oshiro is the last person we need helping us with this project. If she gets involved; forget expulsion – we're headed straight for juvenile detention!"
Hanamura scrunched up her face.
"I know, I know. I heard the rumors," she quickly pacified her partner. "I haven't forgotten what you said the day we met with Coach Washijo. But Rumi says she's a mathematical genius. If anyone can help us fix our problem, it's her." She turned to the rest of the art club, looking for support, but when no one looked especially convinced, Hanamura schooled her expression. "If Rumi trusts her, I trust her."
Tashima gave her a withering look.
"That's easy for you to say. You haven't sat in her class yet," she snapped. "You haven't experienced the precise terror she inflicts on her students. The frog massacre is just one of the countless crimes she's committed in the classroom." She looked to Fukuhara who had a wane expression on her face.
"It was, in a word, grotesque," Fukuhara said miserably.
Asano and Izakaya blanched.
"Sui, back me up on this," said Tashima, looking to the only art club member who remained serenely seated at their table.
Yamada pulled her gaze away from the large poster taped to the wall. It depicted a young woman with sunglasses and a long walking stick, the caption at the bottom reading: Yuki never wore her safety goggles. She said YOLO instead…Don't be like Yuki.
"The tulips were nice," she said after a moment of thought, "and the recipe for gunpowder was neat too. But the day she set the floor on fire was a little nerve-wracking. She had us play a hybrid game of Musical Chairs and Hot Lava. Called it 'And Then There Were None.'"
Everyone looked to Hanamura, panicked.
"I don't like the sound of that," said Izakaya. "I don't like the sound of that at all."
Hanamura felt a jolt in her stomach. This was not the reaction she expected. When she discussed their experiment with Rumi in the dorms last night, her roommate had sounded so confident:
You know what you should do? You should consult Ms. Oshiro, said Rumi as she pruned the belladonna plant hidden in their closet. She harvested the small, black berries into a glass vial, stopping it with a cork. Holding it up against her reading lamp, she studied her bounty with a satisfied grin. Oshiro's the expert when it comes to physics. She can help you with your calculations, no problem.
Really? You'd think she'd be willing to help us? Hanamura swung her legs from the top bunk bed, staring at the pages of Tashima's portfolio with a troubled look. You don't think she'd turn us into the principal, do you?
Rumi shook her head. Nah, she's making a stand against the establishment. They took away her syllabus and swapped it with generic-level curriculum. If anyone's willing to operate under the principal's nose, it's her.
In truth, Hanamura had deliberated that evening, considering all other options before resorting to Ms. Oshiro, but with their deadline drawing close and no progress in sight, she had no choice but to seek advice from the notorious science instructor. As Hanamura gazed at the harrowed expressions of her clubmates; however, she wondered if this was a decision she would soon regret.
"Here, I grabbed safety gear for everyone." Rumi appeared, handing out extra lab coats and goggles. They all paused to do a double-take, not recognizing her at first. The black hair buns and sardonic look were still there, but underneath her white lab coat, Rumi was wearing a black flame-retardant suit with a high, mandarin collar. Instead of the school-issued slippers, she wore a pair of steel-toe leather boots too; the whole ensemble especially assassin-like. Misinterpreting their intense stares, she added, "Sorry. Club rules. We've been working with chemicals all afternoon. We just whipped up a batch of antibiotic amoxicillin for Nurse Hino."
She pointed to the flask of bubble-gum pink liquid still wafting steam in the exhaust chamber, speaking with the same brightness as if it were a batch of cookies fresh from the oven. They returned her look with slight apprehension.
"Uh," Yamada began hesitantly, "does the science club often supply the nurse with homemade pharmaceuticals?"
Rumi flashed her a smug grin. "Nah, just this once. Stomach ulcers are on the rise again, so she ordered a batch as backup for the infirmary's storeroom. It's fruit-gum flavored."
Yamada lifted her brows. "Yum."
Hanamura threaded her arms through the sleeves of her lab coat, catching her roommate's attention.
"Rumi, are you sure about this?" She whispered nervously. "Can we trust Oshiro? Everyone's behaving like she's–" Hanamura lowered her voice, shooting a cautious glance across the room "–crazy."
Rumi cast her a furtive look. "You trust me, don't you?"
Frankly, Hanamura was uncertain, but she didn't let it show. Rumi was behaving much like Kazane had, laden with secret motives, and it gave her the strong impression she had been duped into much more than a simple meeting. The science club was acting far too suspicious…
"Relax," said Rumi, noticing her disquiet. "You're in for a special treat this evening. I promise."
It was then that Ms. Oshiro joined them at the table, helping Izakaya snap his goggles over his glasses. The elastic band popped against his head, making him yelp in surprise. When he turned to Hanamura, he stared at her with eyes magnified so horrifically, she had to pinch her lips together to keep from laughing. He was worse off than Chiyo.
"Welcome to the science club, everyone! The seat of innovation at Shiratorizawa Academy," said Ms. Oshiro with a large, sweeping gesture. "Allow me to give you a grand tour of our facility." She motioned for them to follow as she set off into the room. "Each of our members is spearheading critical veins of research in the fields of scientific inquiry. You'll find all branches represented here in our laboratory. We have everything from your formal sciences to natural sciences, to the social sciences in human behavior–"
She motioned to a student who sat with a clipboard in front of two baseball players. They were seated side-by-side, wearing blue patient scrubs with lanyards denoting one as Test Subject A and the other as Test Subject B. The girl handed one boy a piece of cucumber, but the other boy was given a fruit roll-up instead. The player with the cucumber looked to his teammate with a scowl.
"Hey! Wait a minute. Why does he get the treat?"
The girl blinked. "Because."
"Because why?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "Just because. Do you want another cucumber?"
She offered him a slice. He took it and chucked it to the floor. Then, he proceeded to snatch the fruit roll-up from his teammate which precipitated a small scuffle as they fought over the after-school snack.
"Hands off, Kobe! This is mine!"
"Not if I eat it first!"
"Butt out. I'm starving!"
"Hmm…Interesting," murmured the student as she made several observations on her clipboard. "Their first impulse is to compete rather than sharing resources. Food inequality has provoked their primal instincts, overriding their ability to problem-solve. How fascinating."
The art club watched as the two baseball players proceeded to have a wrestling match on the floor.
Oblivious, Ms. Oshiro strolled forward in her white lab coat, the hem of her dress nearly dragging on the floor as she glided over the tiles. Hanamura thought she was different from the other teachers. For one, she was quite young to be a department head; the casual falsetto tone of her voice suggesting she was not much older than her students. There was the strange dichotomy between her appearance and subject matter too. Ms. Oshiro was, by all accounts, someone who looked better suited to a yoga studio than the stark laboratory of a private school. She had a bright, youthful face mirrored by the halo of russet curls dusting her shoulders. Quite the opposite of Mrs. Osakabe who arrived each morning looking prepared to litigate in a courtroom with her power suits and gray lipstick.
Even so, there was a perceptible ease to which Ms. Oshiro traveled about the lab, and it was this ease that comforted Hanamura. Only those who felt completely confident in their field walked with such self-assuredness, and Hanamura wanted to believe this was a sign they had come to the right person.
Ms. Oshiro drew to a halt.
"Ah. Now here's something truly exciting. Our club president, Tomiko, is growing crystals through a process called nucleation. She combines certain solvents and solutions to produce gem-like structures."
They stopped to observe a third-year girl working under a black light in a velvet-lined cubicle. She was observing crystals through a jeweler's loupe. A silver platter rested on the counter before her, filled with an array of sparkling gems.
"Is that crystal meth?" Tashima whispered anxiously, noticing their radioactive blue color.
"Diamonds actually," said Rumi with a grin. "She's working to recreate the Hope Diamond."
Tomiko waved to them, holding up a crystal cluster as large as her fist.
The art club gawked.
"That's the most famous diamond in the world!" Asano whispered excitedly. "My parents wrote about it once. It's supposedly cursed. Anyone who possesses it for a short while is met with an untimely demise."
Tashima shot her a faint look. "Why on earth would she want to recreate that?"
Ms. Oshiro waved them on.
"Over here, you'll see Matsu and Shizue working on their miniature nuclear reactor," she said eagerly, pointing to a pair of second-year boys stooped over an egg-shaped, metal capsule. Colored wires spilled from a large opening on the side, and it was these they were gently threading together with a pair of tweezers and a soldering pen. "By this time next year, we hope to take the school off the power grid completely," said Ms. Oshiro. "These boys are working on a patent as we speak."
"The National Institute for Nuclear Physics reached out to us finally. They want a demonstration," said Matsu to Ms. Oshiro, sounding keen. He wiped his face which was singed with ash. "The University of Tokyo wants us to apply for their research grant this fall too! We've been invited to attend their workshop on the benefits of nanotechnology."
Ms. Oshiro clasped hands behind her back with a proud smile.
"See? I told you your hypothesis on the transmutability of compact fusion had potential. Keep up the great work, you two."
The boys returned to their project, stooping over their metal egg once more.
Hanamura trudged along with the rest of her club, feeling immensely overwhelmed. This was a far cry from the baking soda volcanoes and potato batteries she dabbled with in her own science class.
"Let's see, what else do we have here…what else…Ah! Suzuki is developing biodegradable leather out of plant proteins and fermented green tea. Her design framework is based on turning food waste into sustainable textiles." Ms. Oshiro motioned to a girl who was churning a large vat of vinegary brown sludge with a wooden canoe paddle. Behind her were large sheets of mottled, leathery hides hanging up to dry. Asano stared at them, fascinated.
"They remind me of the skin-changing serial killer in Silence of the Lambs," she murmured in awe.
Izakaya bumped into her.
"Reiko, I don't think these are safety goggles," he whispered. "I think these are the distortion goggles they use to simulate drunkenness. I feel funny."
"Hold onto me," said Asano.
Izakaya looped his arm with hers, staggering forward with wide eyes.
"And over here, we have our applied sciences division, the robotics team, working on the final prototype of their human android." Ms. Oshiro pointed to four boys who were huddled in the furthest reaches of the science lab, standing over an operating table with a plastic male mannequin lying underneath a white sheet. A second-year was placing a metal crown over its head which was connected to wires, shouting, "IGORO, PULL THE LEVER!"
"YES, SENPAI!" cried the youngest member of the team as he flipped a power switch.
Thin, striating ropes of electricity lit the wires, producing a strong ionized scent in the air along with the loud crack of artillery fire. Everyone dropped to their heels with arms covering their heads, taking shelter underneath the tables.
"HOW MARVELOUS! THIS IS JUST LIKE THE TESLA LAB!" Ms. Oshiro shouted above the noise, displaying no outward alarm as the room continued to sizzle and snap. Everyone's hair began to radiate with static electricity, making her curls look tame in comparison. Tashima's smooth plait puffed up like a cat's tail.
"REIKO, HELP! WHAT'S HAPPENING?" cried Izakaya as he searched frantically for Asano. She quickly dragged him under the table with her, yelling, "IT'S AN ELECTRIC STORM. CAREFUL! WE MIGHT GET ELECTROCUTED."
Some of the glass beakers exploded then, sounding like lightbulbs popping a fuse. Izakaya whimpered, yanking his lab coat over his head. Hanamura crouched down beside Ms. Oshiro and Rumi but could feel Tashima glaring at her balefully from under the other table where Fukuhara and Yamada were crouched, covering their ears. The lights in the classroom flickered, and there was one loud rip-roar hum before the power switch was finally turned off, returning the room to its original state.
"Kazuki, what's the status of Wakajima 2.0?" Ms. Oshiro called out from their place under the tables. A thin, filmy smoke lingered in the air.
Everyone waited.
"It's…It's moving." Kazuki gasped in awe. "I don't believe it. It's alive!" He screamed in rapturous delight. "IT'S ALIVE! IT'S ALIVE! IT'S ALIVE! OH DEAR GOD, IT'S ALIVE!"
"Quick! Ask it a question," urged one of the other members. "Something to test its A.I. programming."
Kazuki bent over the artificial lifeform. "Wakajima, do you like fermented beet greens?"
There was a brief pause.
"Ah," it responded robotically.
There was a whoop of excitement as the robotics team exchanged high-fives.
"Do you like volleyball?" Kazuki asked next.
"Ah."
"Are you friends with the Guess Monster?"
The robot flickered with blue light, processing the question.
"No," it answered in its sinister, synthetic voice. "Not–friends. Must–destroy–red–devil–menace."
The robotics team embraced each other tearfully.
"We've done it. We've finally done it," said Kazuki, lifting a trembling fist in the air. "We've created my salvation. My liberation!" He dropped his gaze onto the android with a feverish glow, placing his hands onto the mannequin's shoulders. "You, my child, will guard the gates of my sanctuary," he whispered tenderly. "No more unauthorized breaking and entering, no more late-night surprise visits, no more Shounen Jump catchphrases at three-thirty in the morning–" Kazuki broke into crazed laughter "–I shall have peace at last! PEACE! MY SANITY HAS BEEN RESTORED! HAH! HA HA HA! AHA!"
Kazuki reached for the heavens, the whites of his teeth flashing as he laughed hysterically.
"Wow. There's a lot happening there," commented Asano with raised brows.
Crawling out from under the table, Ms. Oshiro led them to the other side of the room where a collection of exotic plants hung from a steel lattice structure. It took Hanamura only a second to recognize it as a hydroponic system; the same system her mother used during the winter months in their greenhouse. This one was far more sophisticated. Beneath the plants were polished steel trays of running water, bright tubular lights, and a small fan that generated a constant breeze. The plants fluttered softly, giving the illusion that they were alive with animation.
"And this here is where Miss Hara has been helping me continue my thesis research on the health benefits of deadly nightshade," said Ms. Oshiro with an affectionate glance at her student.
"–of which there are few," Rumi admitted with a sheepish smile.
"–that we know of yet," countered Ms. Oshiro. "Once we're approved for human clinical trials, we'll be able to expand on our theories exponentially. Think of all the things we'll soon discover!"
Rumi nodded, swelling with pride at the use of 'we.' It was obvious to Hanamura now that her roommate idolized Ms. Oshiro a great deal. There was a strong mentor-and-apprentice connection between them, and it explained why Ms. Oshiro gave her prized Venus flytrap to Rumi…Why Rumi spent so much time harvesting plant specimens around the neighborhood…Why their dorm room had slowly turned into a nursery over the course of the year…
Rumi was Ms. Oshiro's personal research assistant.
As the realization dawned on her, Hanamura eyed Rumi with fresh unease. Was it possible her admiration for Ms. Oshiro had clouded her judgment, blinding her to all the danger she posed in the classroom? Tashima's reaction was no longer as melodramatic as Hanamura originally thought. Their sudden encounter with high-voltage electricity had her light on her feet, prepared to flee at a moment's notice. Her heart was beating fast inside her chest as she became aware they were standing in the middle of several highly advanced, hazardous projects; projects undertaken by scientists with years and years of experience – not a bunch of high school students.
It was then that Hanamura remembered her roommate had come from the same family as Ryuunosuke Hara which meant her tolerance for outlandish behavior was probably far greater than most. It wasn't that long ago she was a disciple of the marching band. Was it possible she swapped her allegiance from a music cult to a mad scientist?
Hanamura chewed her lip.
Glancing to the others who were all huddled together shell-shocked, she couldn't help herself. "But, Ms. Oshiro," she asked hesitantly, "aren't you concerned these experiments are a little too dangerous?"
She spoke aloud the question everyone was currently wondering, but it created a sudden tension in the room as Ms. Oshiro turned to her, eyeing her critically.
"That," she said, a thin smile touching her lips, "is a very good question, Hanamura. One spoken by those who often find themselves on the cusp of human discovery. I applaud you for asking."
She gave Hanamura a courteous nod.
The candor with which she spoke gave Hanamura pause. Some of the dreaminess had receded from Ms. Oshiro's expression, replaced by a sharp intelligence that gave her a powerful allure. She approached Rumi's plants, running her fingers along the dark, waxy leaves of a philodendron. There was something impressive in the way she was framed by the greenery, the round outline of her curls reminiscent of another wild-looking scientist. The subtle change matured her quite a bit.
"The human mind is a curious thing," she mused softly. "Scientists have long understood that when we start to question things, we begin to see danger as a relative concept. It's malleable, faulty – often tied to our fear of the unknown." She drew away from the plants, hunching her shoulders. "For example, I could just as easily postulate that the pursuit of knowledge, in and of itself, is a dangerous endeavor. Or that any idea worth exploring is dangerous to some extent. And yet–" she paused, turning to face the room "–here we are, each of us born with an innate curiosity. Like a flame burning deep within us, we yearn to understand – who we are, why we exist, why we do the things we do." She cast her gaze around the room, her smile brightening. "Becoming brave in the face of danger is merely the gateway to true understanding. Wouldn't you agree, Miss Hara?"
Rumi nodded. "Curiosity to the mind is what coals are to the fire," she surmised.
"Did someone say FIRE?"
A scrawny first-year popped his head between Asano and Izakaya, holding a long-stemmed lighter with a maniacal grin plastered across his face. Everyone peered at him, alarmed.
"Er…sorry," said Rumi, cringing. She quickly pulled him away, whispering, "Shhh. Not yet, Kinji. Wait for the cue."
"Oh. Right, right," he whispered back, winking at her a little too deliberately.
Hanamura frowned.
"But," said Ms. Oshiro, continuing as if she had not been interrupted, "we're not here to discuss the ageless quandary of why curiosity killed the cat. You all have a problem that needs attention, yes?" She walked over to one of the lab tables, crawling on top of it to sit cross-legged. She tucked the ends of her dress underneath her legs, reminding Hanamura even more of a guru. Ms. Oshiro stared at them eagerly. "Miss Hara has taken the liberty of explaining the scope of your experiment, and I'm happy to report that your calculations are quite manageable."
Tashima perked up at this. "Really?"
"Oh yes." Ms. Oshiro nodded. "Yes, quite so. You're in the process of developing a gravitational field – a physical plane in which you control the three laws of gravity: mobility, force, and reaction. I'm sure you're all aware of Newton's Laws of Motion?" She paused, looking for any blank stares. Finding a few, she elaborated. "These are your constant variables when dealing with Gravitational Force. In theory, you can control all three by calculating the trajectory of any object suspended in space. It's feasible but time-consuming as I'm sure you've learned by now."
Hanamura and Tashima shared a brief glance before nodding vigorously.
"You're on the right track with your calculations. However," Ms. Oshiro paused again, peering at them with a cunning look, "if you were to simply operate outside, or adjacent, or underneath the gravitational field–" she illustrated, using her hands "–then this whole dilemma of danger is bypassed completely."
Hanamura gaped.
Ms. Oshiro made it sound so simple. So simple in fact, Hanamura was hesitant to believe her. Surely, there had to be more to it than that. It seemed far too easy. If she was telling the truth, then the final obstacle resting between the art club and their performance at the culture festival had just been eliminated.
"Are you sure?" Hanamura asked with an inkling of doubt. "No one would get hurt?"
Ms. Oshiro hopped off the table.
"Would you like a demonstration?" She asked, striding to the front of the classroom where the bowling ball rested atop a velvet cushion. She picked it up, rotating it in her hands. Its red surface gleamed under the classroom lights, polished to a metallic shimmer. "I can show you how to tweak your experiment using the Conservation of Energy Principle. Very simple, very safe," she murmured. "In the physics world, we call this the Swinging Pendulum Demonstration."
Everyone grew deathly still.
The elephant in the room grew twice as big as they all contemplated the student who broke his nose the last time this demonstration was performed in the classroom. It was the seed of Ms. Oshiro's infamy, the reason why many students flocked to the admissions office to be reassigned to a different science instructor or, as a last-ditch effort, feigned terrible illness to skip her class.
Hanamura faltered as Ms. Oshiro held out the bowling ball to her.
"To divine truth, one must be willing to traverse deep into the fires of chaos," she beckoned her.
"Did someone say FIRE?"
The boy with the lighter popped out again, this time from behind Hanamura.
Rumi issued a low growl. "Cripes, Kinji. Not yet," she gritted through her teeth, dragging him away for the second time." I said wait for the cue!"
The first year huffed. "It's not my fault you guys keep using all these fire analogies!"
"Get a grip."
Kinji clicked off the lighter, marching to a nearby table to sulk.
For her part, Hanamura stood frozen in place. She felt everyone's gazes land on her again, and their expectant stares left her numb with indecision. Suddenly, her mind went blank. Her hands grew cold. Her moment of hesitation released all the fear brewing in the pit of her stomach, rooting her to the spot. There was a long, drawn-out pause in which everyone grew restless.
"What? What is it?" Ms. Oshiro asked, examining them all curiously. When she fixed her attention back on Hanamura, she must have noticed the fear in her eyes for her smile vanished. "Oh…Oh, I see…"
Ms. Oshiro lowered the bowling ball. Her enthusiasm was gone, culled abruptly as a dandelion yanked from the grass. Her shoulders sagged, and some of the candor in her face evaporated into an expression of bleak disenchantment. The change was significant, making even the yellow of her sundress fade.
"Seems my little mishap from last year has left quite the impression on everyone," she murmured quietly. "I see that look in all my students now." Her brows drew together in a frown. "Fear."
"Wait," said Rumi, reaching out to her, but Ms. Oshiro waved in dismissal.
"No, no. It's alright. I understand," she said kindly, placing the bowling ball back onto its cushion. "I made a terrible mistake and injured a student. The blame is all mine – Trust me, I know. I've been trying to make amends this year by showing some of my best work, but…it seems I've lost the trust of my students permanently." She stuffed hands into the pockets of her lab coat, resigned. "I don't want to force anyone to participate – not if it makes them uncomfortable. Science should be fun." A pained smile spread across her face. "Thank you, Miss Hara, for introducing me to your friends, but…I think I'll go ahead and place that order for Bermuda shorts after all. I hear the weather's quite balmy in Costa Rica. If you'll excuse me…"
With that, she broke away, retreating into her office with a soft click of the door.
There was a stretch of silence in which no one moved or spoke.
Hanamura turned to her roommate.
"Why do I have the feeling you promised her something?"
Rumi tensed.
"Alright. Don't get mad," she said at last, grimacing, "but I leaked your plans to the science club–"
"What?" Tashima snapped, making her flinch.
"I know, I know! Just hear me out, okay? Please," Rumi implored, pressing her hands together in prayer. "I wouldn't blab about Operation Magpie if it wasn't for a good reason. I speak on behalf of the whole science club when I say we're in desperate need of your help."
The others gathered behind her, peering at the art club beseechingly.
Hanamura frowned.
"Why? What's going on?" She asked.
Rumi took a breath, a tortured look crossing her face.
"There's been talk, see. In the teachers' lounge," she began. "Earlier this week, I overheard the principal's secretary speaking to the administrative assistant, Ms. Sakimoto. They spend a lot of time together airing their grievances over the coffee pot. I happened to be passing by when I was turning in my career assessment form to Mr. Harada for review." Rumi paused, lowering her voice. "The principal plans on sending Ms. Oshiro away."
Hanamura's frown deepened. "Away? As in let go?"
Rumi shook her head.
"No, worse." She took a breath, gathering herself. "He's sending her on sabbatical."
Her words hung in the air for a moment, leaving everyone slightly perplexed. The gravity with which she spoke was momentarily lost on them.
Tashima flattened her gaze. "Are you kidding me?" She scoffed. "A sabbatical's like vacation! My mom does that all the time," she explained in a blithe tone. "It doesn't mean she's getting fired."
Rumi shook her head. "No, you don't understand. Placing Oshiro on sabbatical is like putting a wild tiger in a cage at the zoo! She'll never survive it – it'll crush her spirit. If she can't teach science, she'll have no choice but to move on. She needs to be somewhere where she can practice her craft." Rumi clenched her hands at her sides. "If she gets sent away, we lose her forever."
Tashima stared at her in confusion.
"You like her that much? Don't you think she's a little…you know," she circled a finger at her temple; a gesture that, gauging by the reproachful looks she was now receiving, was considered highly offensive to the science club.
It was Tomiko who stepped forward.
"You have to understand that before Ms. Oshiro came along, we were stuck in the dark ages," she said, cradling her giant synthetic diamond. "There was no innovation, no growth, no creativity. We were all doing the same exact lab experiments as the students before us. When someone has already done your basic research projects, you begin to wonder what's the point? Our club was on the brink of collapse."
"We were fading into obscurity. People lost interest," said Suzuki, resting her canoe paddle against her shoulder. "If you've seen one bottle rocket, you've seen them all, am I right?"
The art club nodded their heads in reluctant agreement.
"But when Ms. Oshiro came along, she changed everything. The entire status quo," said Matsu, sweeping his arms wide. "She secured funding to have the science lab outfitted with state-of-the-art technology; got us a proper Helios microscope – a plasma torch – a 3D printer!"
"But before we could use them, she told each of us to dig in deep and find what it was we truly wanted to learn," said Shizue. "For the first two weeks, she had us meditate on what it was in this world we wished to divine the most."
"I told her I wanted to hold the Hope Diamond," said Tomiko, grinning.
Suzuki twirled her canoe paddle. "I wanted to put a stop to fast fashion."
"We wanted to see if we could take a really big bomb and make it tiny," said Matsu eagerly.
"Why?" asked Tashima and Izakaya together.
Shizue hunched his shoulders. "Honestly? Just to see if we could." He grinned.
Tashima covered her face with a hand. "Jesus Christ."
"What about you guys?" Asano asked the robotics team who had remained silent this whole time.
They withdrew to their corner, cowering with their heads tucked into their shoulders like frightened turtles. They blinked at Asano in response.
"They're developing the robotic equivalent of Ushiwaka," Tomiko answered on their behalf. "Kazuki's been conducting research on the athlete ever since they've been assigned a room together. His case study research is phenomenal."
At this, Hanamura couldn't suppress her smirk.
"Oh?" She peered at Kazuki with a dark gleam. "You must be very familiar with Satori then."
Kazuki gaped at her with wide eyes, no doubt realizing who she was.
"Please…please don't curse me," he whimpered. "I just wanna sleep. That's all I desire in this cruel world."
Hanamura said nothing, only continued to smirk.
"It was Ms. Oshiro who brought us a golden renaissance," Tomiko continued, drawing everyone's attention. "Without her, there wouldn't be much of a science department to speak of."
Rumi stepped forward. "But because she's different, people are scared of her. They don't understand what she's trying to do," she said with a grim expression on her face. "The school administration doesn't see her as a visionary, but a nuisance."
That got Hanamura's attention.
"So, they want to push her out," she said angrily, "because she's not following the rules."
Rumi nodded. "I thought you'd understand," she said quietly with an entreating look.
Oh yes. Hanamura understood perfectly. She felt an immediate kinship with Ms. Oshiro and was surprised to discover that there was adversity happening even at the faculty level. It occurred to her then that she wasn't the only one struggling to fit in at a school steeped in tradition. She stared at the science club with newfound understanding.
"But why us? Why do you need our help?" Tashima asked with a frown.
"Isn't it obvious? Art and science go hand-in-hand," said Rumi with a faint smile. "We're both after the same thing. You want to present an experiment at the festival? We want to present one too. If we were to combine our efforts into one amazing spectacle, then…maybe it would be enough to convince the school to keep Ms. Oshiro."
The art club shared glances with each other.
"Well, what's the plan, Stan?" Asano asked her curiously. "What do you all have in mind?"
Encouraged by her openness, Rumi smiled. "I'm glad you asked."
With a snap of her fingers, Rumi signaled for the science club to retrieve something stowed underneath one of the tables. They quickly produced a professional-grade architectural scale model of the outdoor stage they had planned for the festival. It was made from cardboard, the surface around the stage glued with green AstroTurf. Someone had even gone so far as to give it the final touches, including a miniature shade tree, sidewalks, and benches. Everyone crouched over it in wonder.
"Is that us?" Hanamura asked, pointing to the plastic figures glued to the stage.
"Yeah. Pretty neat, huh?" Rumi lifted her brows eagerly. "We put this together to give you an idea of how everything will look. This is what the theater club will be building on the school lawn next week."
The art club gasped in awe.
"It's incredible," said Hanamura, smiling at the little orange puff that was supposed to be Cosmo peaking from the bushes. "But how is it that you're going to combine both of our experiments?"
Rumi turned eager. "That's why we made this – to give you a demonstration." She cast a glance at her clubmates who all nodded in encouragement. Turning back to Hanamura, she asked, "How do you feel about adding a little…fire?"
Rumi paused, waiting. When nothing happened, Hanamura and the others stared at her in confusion.
Smile faltering slightly, Rumi cleared her throat.
"I said – How do you feel about adding a little FIRE?" She asked again, louder.
Still nothing.
Rumi dropped her shoulders, sighing in frustration.
"Kinji! What're you doing?" She motioned in frustration. "You're missing the cue!"
Kinji looked up from his Rubik's cube. "What? Oh – Oh, right!" He hastened over to their table with a maniacal grin spreading across his face, shouting, "Did someone say FI–?"
It was unfortunate that Izakaya turned at that moment, blindly putting himself in Kinji's path as he rushed over. Kinji tripped over Izakaya's foot, losing his grip on the lighter as he was sent shooting across the floor on his stomach. Everyone watched in horror as the lighter sailed through the air in an acrobatic spin, landing right in the center of the cardboard moquette. The whole thing burst into flames, igniting with the help of a mysterious substance that burned bright blue, then gold, then red. Sparks shot outwards in a miniature explosion, and the little figures glued to the stage started to melt.
The art club watched as their miniature counterparts burned to a fiery crisp.
"Do…do I hear screams?" Izakaya mouthed in shock.
Sure enough, the cardboard gave a dry, raspy squeal, making them all flinch.
Rumi stared at the entire thing, lost.
"Do you have a fire extinguisher?" Fukuhara asked Tomiko with studied patience. The science club president nodded, pointing absently to the red tank hanging from a nook in the wall. Fukuhara retrieved it, and – brandishing it with practiced ease – sprayed fire-retardant over the scale model. A thick layer of white foam covered everything in seconds, leaving them all standing in awkward silence.
A nervous laugh issued from the floor.
"Oops," said Kinji.
The science club dragged their gazes to him, but it was Rumi who dropped to her knees, grabbing him by the scruff of his coat.
"You had one job," she said in an audible hiss, the whites of her eyes glowing. "We rehearsed this over and over and over. We were all counting on you to get this right, and yet you still managed to screw this up!"
Kinji gulped.
"I'm sorry!" He wailed feebly. "I didn't mean to, I swear! I was sabotaged."
"Rumi?" Hanamura ventured hesitantly.
Rumi and Kinji both looked up.
"Pyrotechnics," Rumi said anticlimactically, releasing Kinji. "We wanted to add a layer of pyrotechnics to your performance. You know–" she shrugged "–a bit of razzle-dazzle."
They all glanced to the ruined moquette.
There was a sharp laugh. "A bit of razzle-dazzle? A bit of razzle-dazzle?" Tashima's voice turned very shrill; her frizzled ponytail floating like a cloud of cotton candy against her back. "No. Absolutely not. The art club is not hosting Burning Man out in the courtyard!" She made a cutting motion with her hands, and outright refusal to budge on the matter. Removing her safety goggles and lab coat, Tashima handed them back to Rumi. "Sorry, but you'll just have to find some other way of saving Oshiro because we're not taking the risk."
"Tashima–"
"No, Hanamura. We'll figure out the experiment without her help," she said with a note of finality. "We've come this far and we're not jeopardizing everything we worked for to produce a colossal bonfire on the school lawn. That's a one-way ticket to expulsion and you know it." Tashima made for the door, urging everyone to follow her. "Come on, guys. Let's get out of here."
Rumi clutched the safety gear with a look of pure desperation.
"Please," she begged Hanamura in a small voice. "We can't lose her. She's everything to us."
"Hanamura, come on," ordered Tashima from the door, staring at her expectantly.
"If you just gave us a chance, I know we could make this work–"
"–Let's go!"
"Please!"
Hanamura tore her gaze between the two of them, finding herself caught in the middle. This was an impossible situation. Without Ms. Oshiro's help, the art club was right back to figuring out everything on their own. With her help, they were aligning their fate with that of the science club. It was a terrible risk, a high-stakes gamble that made robbing a bank look like child's play. If the principal had any suspicions about their secret operation, she was about to prove him right.
Steeling her nerve, Hanamura took charge.
"Everybody just hold on!" She announced to the room, throwing her arms out. "I need to think!"
Hanamura proceeded to deliberate. Closing her eyes, she analyzed the situation in her head.
There were three things she was absolutely certain about: One, she was not going to risk the safety of her friends on a flawed art experiment. They needed the help of an expert and she was convinced that Ms. Oshiro fit the bill. It was up to her to persuade the others. Two, she was not going to turn her back on Rumi and the science club either. Not if she could help it. Rumi had been her fiercest supporter from the very beginning, and it would be a betrayal of their friendship not to help. Hanamura owed her that much at least. And finally, three, she was not going to deny Ms. Oshiro the chance to redeem herself – even if it meant increasing their margins for failure exponentially.
Tendou had said mistakes were part of the journey; they should never define a person, especially if they were willing to learn from them. Hanamura understood that now. She thought of her own past mistakes, and the love and support she continued to receive in spite of them. It was perfectly within her right to show the same compassion to Ms. Oshiro too.
By overcoming our fear of failure, only then are we able to find our way. Satsuki had told her. Be fearless, Suzume. It can be scary, awkward, even overwhelming at times, but it can also put you on the path to finding others like you.
Hanamura knew exactly what she had to do.
"Rumi, tell Ms. Oshiro to cancel her Bermuda shorts order," she said at last. "We've got a Swinging Pendulum Demonstration to see."
Rumi's face filled with renewed hope. "Really?"
Hanamura nodded. "Operation Magpie is not moving forward until I see this thing for myself." She directed this statement to Tashima who was staring at her stunned. "This experiment is dangerous, but if it can somehow be carried out with none of us getting hurt, then I'm willing to see this through."
Tashima looked to Fukuhara who in turn looked to Hanamura.
"Very well," she said quietly. "We stand behind you."
Hanamura placed a hand on Rumi's back. "Come on. Let's get Ms. Oshiro."
. . . . . . . . .
Tendou showed up to the locker room that evening in total disarray. His eyes were glassy and unclear, his shoulders stooped as he slowly trudged to his locker. He dropped his gym bag to the floor and sank onto the wooden bench beside Semi. Crouching low with arms braced against his thighs, he sighed deeply.
"Whoa. What happened to you?" Semi asked, pausing to tie his shoe. "You're eyes are all red."
Tendou cut his gaze to him, bleary. "I was pepper-sprayed."
Semi looked startled.
"What?"
Tendou continued staring at the floor.
"I don't understand," he lamented, raking fingers through his hair. "I was patient, observant. I had everything planned. I sealed off her escape. I read her every move. I had her right where I wanted her, and yet–" he shook his head in amazement "–she still managed to slip through my fingers."
He stared at his hands, bewildered.
Hanamura had done it again. She had performed her finest feat of mimicry yet. So much so, he was still reeling from their most recent encounter. She had shined in the most beautiful way; the sunset from the windows casting her in rim light, edging her hair and shoulders in red. Braced against the desk, she swooned for him, her breaths growing more timorous with every passing second. Her habit of yielding to his touch filled him with intense vigor. The way she arched her back, parted her lips…It took him everything he had to stay the beast, to keep himself grounded in reality. Desiring another person left a terrible yearning in the pit of one's stomach. He was left feeling starving, thirsty – wanting.
But no food or drink could satisfy this hunger.
Only Hanamura had that ability.
Tendou fingered the collar of his dress shirt, reliving the precise moment she had commandeered the situation. Suddenly, she was no longer a blushing violet, but a seductress, the one holding all the power in the grip of her hand. The pendulum had swung and this time she took the bait; the ball landed in her court and she fired it back with all the strength of a National-ranked Ace. He could still feel the cloth of his tie cutting into his neck, a sensation that was not altogether unpleasant. It left him with a heady mixture of desire and frustration. If Izakaya had not interrupted them for what seemed like the infuriatingly-umpteenth time, there was no telling what trouble they would have gotten themselves into…
The thought made him burn. He pressed nails into his palms, relishing the slight pain it caused.
"Uh…Should we be concerned?" Semi asked, bringing Tendou back into the present moment.
Tendou frowned. "Why?"
"It's just…you've got that creepy look again, and…you sound like you're talking about an abduction."
The rest of the team stared at him, alarmed.
Tendou blinked. "No, no. An ensnarement," he corrected with a raised finger.
Semi narrowed his eyes. "It's the same thing," he deadpanned.
"It's completely different." When Semi and the others continued to stare at him dubiously, Tendou rubbed his neck. "Alright, alright. I met up with Suzume this afternoon for some…'persuasive coercion.'" He said at last, using emphatic air-quotes. "There – How's that? Sound better?" Gauging by their dull expressions, it was a nominal improvement at best. Tendou reclined on the bench with hands knitted behind his head, sighing. "I thought today was the day I'd finally learn what she has planned for the festival. That I'd unearth her secret, but–" he stared at the ceiling in a daze "–I was wrong."
He stayed like that for a moment, ruminating.
Eventually, he got up, unbuttoning his dress shirt as he reached for the latch of his locker. The absence of his tie still had him smarting, but as he opened the metal door, he grinned at the sight of her purple sock hanging from the inside hook. He tugged on it, running his fingers against the soft material. How many times had he watched it slip down her calf?
"I told her what I overheard in the teachers' lounge," he shared with the team, "and she still refused to talk." The hunger returned, burning low in his stomach. Tendou let go of the sock. "I swear, she has more moxie than anyone I've ever come across on the court. She could give the Destroyer a run for his money."
Shirabu flinched. "I'd prefer it if we didn't bring him up anymore," he sniffed from his place by the fresh towel bins. "It triggers my trauma, you know."
"Sorry," said Tendou.
Shirabu gave him a small nod.
"So, she knows the principal's plan? That he's threatening any rule-breakers with suspension?" Reon asked, leaning against the lockers with his arms crossed over his chest. "There's been talk that all festival preparations are undergoing an audit as early as next week. The discipline committee has been given special privileges."
"Yeah. Supposedly, they've been deputized," said Jin through a mouthful of banana. "I saw a notice posted on all the bulletin boards this afternoon. They're under some kind of special commission by Principal Sato."
"Special commission?" Tendou dressed quickly, frowning at the news. "Sato's really serious about all this, huh? I guess that makes sense with all the ritzy donors coming this year…" As he reached for his spool of athlete's tape, he recalled a crucial detail about the conversation he overheard in the teachers' lounge. "At least Nurse Hino plans on keeping him in check. The man's terrified of her."
"I'm terrified of her," said Yamagata. "Did you know she threatened to stitch my hands inside a pair of oven mittens for an entire week? She told me nurses do it all the time – to babies and old people!"
"My main concern is that there's been a breach," continued Tendou as he taped up his fingers, ignoring Yamagata completely. "Suzume and the others have worked hard to keep things under wraps. There should be no reason why the principal's hearing rumors of a secret operation. Unless he's put two and two together that they want to do something big in the courtyard–" Tendou shook his head "–but when I told Suzume, she seemed shocked."
"You think there's a whistleblower?" Yunohama asked from his seated position on the floor.
Tendou eyed him thoughtfully.
"I dunno. The majority of the school still thinks she's a witch – they wouldn't know what she's really up to. This has to be an inside job," he deduced, cutting the tape with his teeth. "I can't think of anyone who would break confidence though, can you?"
The room fell silent for a moment.
"Her homeroom teacher might know something's up. She's the one who forbade Hanamura from scavenging in the first place, right?" Reon pointed out. "Maybe she tipped off the principal as a warning?"
Tendou tossed the athlete's tape back into his locker and retrieved his shoes. Mulling over the idea, he quickly ruled it out. "No, it's not in Osakabe's nature to be stealthy. She'd much rather make an example of Suzume – go the whole public humiliation route. That's her bread and butter."
"True."
"There's that Hara fellow," said Yamagata. "The guy who carries the baton everywhere he goes? He was raving in the halls this afternoon, livid. He could have turned her in."
Tendou winced. It was by his design that Ryu went in search of Hanamura in the first place. He needed a catalyst, some kind of grassfire to smoke her out, and Ryu made it so easy with his constant complaints about the donuts the art club supposedly bought him as a bribe. All it took was one little comment in the third-year corridor, and Ryu stormed off in a tirade. The trap worked like a charm. Tendou merely had to wait a whopping five minutes before Hanamura came bursting through the door of the classroom with a harried look on her face.
Hara's on the rampage again, she had said, catching her breath.
She was so very fetching when she was flustered. The sight of her ruffled hair gave him pleasure.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire, he thought as he triumphantly blocked the door.
"Hara's all bark and no bite," Tendou said at last, lacing up his shoes to hide his guilt. "Besides, his cousin, Rumi, would kill him if he snitched. She and Suzume are close. I can't see him being the one."
"What about Izakaya?" Reon offered next. "He always seems…inconvenienced."
Tendou scoffed. "Yeah? Who do you think did the pepper-spraying?"
Reon's brows shot up in surprise. "Izakaya did that?" The corners of his mouth dragged down as he nodded his head, impressed. "Wow, he has more gumption than I thought."
"Yes, remind me to pay him a special visit in the dorms this evening," said Tendou with a vicious gleam. "Takashi's interrupted me far too many times. His days as a Victorian chaperone are over."
"No," said Shirabu. "You've traumatized enough people already."
Tendou gave him a testy look.
"Well then, I guess that rules out anyone we know who's close to Hanamura," said Reon.
With this, they were all left stumped. It had been a day and an age since there was this much political intrigue at their school. But, then again, they were usually too preoccupied with Nationals to give it much attention. Their focus was normally fixated on rival teams from other powerhouse schools, not the subtle nuances of the school's liberal arts organizations. Having friends in the art club had opened up a whole new dimension for the volleyball club and things were getting more complicated by the second. It was hard to believe everything was coming to head around something so benign as a culture festival.
"Well, if Hanamura's confident to move forward, you should probably honor her wishes," said Kawanishi with a hunch of his shoulders. "If she's not worried, you shouldn't be either."
Tendou knew that wasn't true, but he didn't say anything. Hanamura was worried, she had admitted to being afraid – he saw it in her eyes. Despite this, she was determined to press on with her plan anyway. He respected her courage and vowed to keep a close watch on any further developments happening at the school. Even if he didn't know what she was up to, he could still lend a helping hand.
If anyone tries to stop her, they'll have to go through me first, he decided darkly.
Tendou stood, flexing his fingers. His mind was sharp once more, filling him with fresh purpose. "Oh, I have no intention of giving up," he said to Kawanishi. "What kind of rival would I be if I balked at the first sign of failure? Suzume's not the only one capable of learning and adapting, ya know." He flashed him a suave grin. "She may have won this day, but tomorrow is a whole different story."
Kawanishi shook his head. "Leave it to you to make dating into a war."
"Who said it isn't?" Tendou challenged him. "Make no mistake, dating is a battle. Anyone who leads you to believe otherwise is either lying or delusional."
"–or not doing it right," added Ushijima much to everyone's shock.
Reon and Jin peered at him critically. "How would you know?"
Ushijima paused his perusal of the sports club calendar hanging beside the water fountain.
"I read it in Tendou's Jump magazine," he said matter-of-factly. "There was an advertisement on the Seven Signs of Romantic Chemistry. Playful flirting is key to any healthy relationship."
Reon and Jin frowned.
"They publish that kind of stuff in a Shounen magazine these days?" Yamagata asked.
Tendou rounded on him, triumphant. "You would know if you read it more often. You know, enjoyed a bit of culture from time to time."
"I'd hardly consider that culture," muttered Semi.
"Which is precisely why," said Tendou without missing a beat, "you have questionable taste in fashion, my friend. A fedora is not as cool as you think it is, Eita."
Semi turned very red, his mouth opening and closing in affront. "You – you take that back!" He growled, pointing a finger at Tendou reproachfully. "And leave my fedora out of this! It was my grandad's!"
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," Tendou motioned to the room, "I rest my case."
Fuming, Semi strolled to the doors with his teeth flashing in a scowl. "This is ridiculous! Why are we hearing dating advice from you of all people? What has the world come to?"
"Yeah. Since when is coercion synonymous with playful flirting?" Jin commented as they all headed after Semi. "Whatever happened to flowers and chocolates and walks through the park? You know, normal stuff."
Tendou turned very slowly to Jin, lifting his brows with a gaping smile. "Normal?" He repeated, sounding incredulous. "Normal?"
Realizing the error of his comment, Jin shook his head.
"Never mind. You're right," he agreed. "I don't know why I said that. You two are anything but normal."
"Speaking of which," said Tendou as they all made their way to the gym. "Does anyone know the Guinness World Record for the longest-held breath?"
The team turned to him, puzzled.
"Why?" asked Shirabu.
Tendou pressed the tips of his fingers together, already scheming his next move.
"I'm about to turn kissing into a professional sport."
This earned him several morose groans.
The air outside was cold, causing goosebumps to break out over his bare arms and legs. Putting his jacket on, Tendou gazed up at the school, noticing the studio windows were still dark. Hanamura and the others had yet to return, having rushed off somewhere on urgent business. His unusual hunger continued to burn low in the pit of his stomach, smoldering like a bed of hot coals. It brought a grin to his lips. Somehow, he had a powerful hunch Hanamura was up to something fun.
. . . . . . . . .
Hanamura stood in the center of the room, filled with the distressing notion she was facing her execution. If it were not for the pale faces of her clubmates, or the anxious hovering of the science club, then perhaps she wouldn't feel so afraid. But she was, and as she watched Rumi hook a cable wire to a metal D-ring embedded in the ceiling, using a ladder to reach the gray tiles, there was something unusually ceremonial about the whole thing.
She was transported to one of her many history lessons, specifically the one about the gruesome treatment of witches in medieval Europe. The irony was not lost on her – here was the noose, the hangman, the victim, and the crowd…
This is what you get for parading around as a witch at school, she thought dryly. What goes around comes around. You reap what you sow.
All the tables had been cleared away to make a long, vertical path in the center of the room. Ms. Oshiro snapped the other end of the cable wire to a D-ring embedded in the bowling ball, plucking the wire to check its torque. It made a deep, resonating sound almost like a gong. Satisfied, she gave a subtle nod to Rumi who withdrew with the ladder.
"The Conservation of Energy is a fixed principle, so much so that many physicists are perfectly willing to risk their safety by demonstrating how it works," Ms. Oshiro began in a mysterious, animated voice. She walked slowly to Hanamura, placing the bowling ball in her hands. It was hefty, weighing roughly 12-pounds at least. Enough weight to do serious damage to one's face.
Hanamura held it aloft, feeling the muscles in her arms strain. She kept her gaze trained on the ball, but she could still see the fearful faces of her friends in the corner of her vision. The art club had assembled on one side, the science club on the other. Rumi stood at the opposite end, lifting two thumbs up in encouragement.
Yeah, this is definitely an execution, Hanamura thought frantically as her heart began to race. She could feel her palms break out into a cold sweat. The subtle scent of lemon wax reached her nose, and she saw her own gaping face reflected on the metallic surface of the ball, distorted like a fish-eye lens.
Ms. Oshiro helped her position it so that it just barely touched the tip of her nose.
"Now, before we proceed, do you have any sensitivities to light, movement, or sound?"
Hanamura swallowed thickly. "Uh…no?"
"Do you feel a burning itch in your nose? Any inclination to sneeze?"
Hanamura started to shake her head but remembered she had to remain perfectly still.
"No," she answered.
"Good. Should you feel the need – I suggest sneezing away from the ball," said Ms. Oshiro, motioning behind them. "My volunteer from last year had the misfortune of doing the complete opposite, costing him his nose."
Hanamura glanced at her sharply. "Wait. That's what got him? He sneezed?"
Ms. Oshiro blinked. "A human sneeze releases an average pressure level of 1-pound force per square inch which can move the head several millimeters forward," she explained, sounding as if she had analyzed the incident with great thoroughness. "That force combined with the kinetic energy of a swinging bowling ball meant a collision was imminent."
Hanamura stood stock-still as she digested this news. When Ms. Oshiro turned to address the room, Hanamura quickly palmed her nose as if memorizing its shape one last time, praying she would not make the same mistake as the other student. Already, she could feel a phantom-like bruising spreading across her nasal cavity, and it reminded her of the stinging sensation one feels when inhaling water from a chlorine-treated pool. Her nose burned, and she had the faintest taste of copper in her mouth.
"An empirical law in physics states that energy is neither created nor destroyed. It is simply transformed," Ms. Oshiro continued as she took to pacing the room. "Miss Hanamura is going to demonstrate for us the precise moment in which potential stored energy is converted into kinetic moving energy. In theory, an object released from a certain height will not exceed its potential energy without the interference of force. Thus, the moment she releases the ball, the Earth's gravity will swing it in a low, pendulum motion–" she illustrated, sweeping her hand low to the floor "–reaching an equal height at the opposite end of the room." She spun around, gesturing to the level of Hanamura's nose. "As it begins its return journey to the starting point, the potential energy will then become kinetic, returning to the exact point of its release." She performed the same sweeping motion back towards Hanamura. "It is absolutely crucial that you don't move," she warned her directly, "and most of all, don't close your eyes."
Hanamura gulped.
Yes, this was definitely an execution. All they were missing were her final last words.
Wish me luck, she mouthed to Asano and Izakaya.
"I can't watch," said Izakaya, covering his face. No one bothered to point out he was facing the wrong direction anyway. The others looked to her feebly, their faces all written with final regards before she was inevitably whisked away to the infirmary with a broken nose. Tashima had seated herself at a table, massaging her brow with evident dread. She was no doubt running through several contingency plans should Hanamura find herself medically indisposed.
"Are you ready?" Ms. Oshiro asked.
Hanamura took one last steadying breath. Fear boiled in her veins, urging her to run away, but if she couldn't withstand this demonstration, she couldn't subject her friends to it either. This was to be her test. The ultimate baptism by fire to cut her teeth against her new self-made trust.
"On the count of three," said Ms. Oshiro. "One…Two…THREE!"
Hanamura released the bowling ball, its weight slipping through her fingers like the anchor of a ship plunging deep into the ocean. Everything drew to a standstill as she trained her gaze straight ahead, freezing the air in her lungs.
What did it mean to be fearless? As she watched the ball sail to the other end of the room, she contemplated this question with a rapidly beating heart. Was fearlessness a feeling? A state of mind? Her body trembled and she found it impossible to breathe. Despite this, she stood steady as best she could even though her legs were shaking. The more aware she became of her fear, the more aware she became of her surroundings. Suddenly, everything slowed down to a crawl, her thoughts fizzling out into a soft stillness. The science lab was sterile and brightly lit, the windows filled with the dark blue of the evening sky. The lingering smoke from the electric storm buffeted the bowling ball, giving it a silvery haze from the opposite side of the room.
As the ball reached its highest point on the other end, the cable thrummed tightly with pressure. The ball rotated a fraction of an inch before it began its sharp descent backward.
Hanamura swallowed.
Fear.
Danger.
Uncertainty.
These feelings kept resurfacing, again and again, growing in strength each time they appeared. Hanamura was filled with a familiar dread, something that made her feel small and insignificant. Her natural reaction was to bolt. She was good at running, hiding, evading – dodging anything that brought her discomfort. If that didn't work, she would often suppress it, stuff it deep down inside to be ignored. But as the bowling ball grew in size, filling her vision with a bright red galaxy, Hanamura held her ground, and by doing so, felt her fear morph into something entirely different.
Unbeknownst to her, a transformation of her own had taken place. It was so subtle, she nearly missed it. But the moment she surrendered to her fear, acknowledging it for what it was, her body took a breath, filling her with a freshness that ceased her trembling. Suddenly, she was presented with a very different choice: instead of running away from her fear or suppressing it entirely, she could act in spite of it.
Becoming brave in the face of danger is the gateway to true understanding.
Call it intuition, or a hunch, but Hanamura felt that all the roads of her journey had brought her to this very moment. There was a reason she liked the dull ache of a bruise. The taste of copper in her mouth. Seeing bright sunlight through her eyelids and imagining hidden worlds in the cadence of the everyday. Mystery, adventure, romance…feeling that emotional rush whenever applying paint to canvas – it was a feeling. This feeling. The feeling of reaching beyond the great unknown to discover something truly marvelous.
Oh.
Hanamura was suddenly awash with warmth, a radiance that transformed her lead-like fear into precious gold. She was the caterpillar-become-butterfly, prying itself free of its cocoon. The locus in the red glow of the harvest moon. A phoenix born free from the ashes of its past. A dazzling white pearl shaped by the oyster. Something entirely, overwhelmingly new.
She watched the bowling ball make its final arch in the air, coming to rise towards her face. For a moment, red collided with green, two opposing forces coming to meet in perfect union. Hanamura saw herself reflected in its surface and found the sight astonishing. For there she was, framed in red and gold stars, a girl who was shaped by fearlessness. The ball hovered for a moment, suspended in space, its momentum stopping right at the tip of her nose.
Ms. Oshiro shot her arms out from behind Hanamura, catching the ball in her hands.
"And that," she said softly, breaking the tremulous silence in the room, "is how you confront danger."
Though she was referring to the Swinging Pendulum Demonstration, Hanamura interpreted a much broader meaning. Bravery was not the absence of fear, she realized, but the ability to act in spite of it. Fear was never the obstacle. It was the conduit – the potential energy that, at any moment, could be transformed into the kinetic force that propelled someone forward. Hanamura felt the truth spring forth inside her, a geyser erupting with joyous realization. She felt a shock of euphoria.
Spinning around, she peered at Ms. Oshiro in awe.
"Can we do that again?" She asked eagerly. "That was amazing!"
Her excitement had a ripple effect. All the tension in the room seemed to disappear at once.
"Can I try?" Asano asked much to everyone's astonishment.
Fukuhara stepped forward. "Me too! That looked really fun."
"She survived?" Izakaya whispered in disbelief.
Excited murmurings continued to break out inside the classroom as if a terrible, dark curse had been lifted from the science lab. Their sudden enthusiasm had a profound effect on Ms. Oshiro who looked on the verge of tears. Some of the dreaminess had returned to her expression, only this time sharped by a renewed sense of confidence.
"This is perfect," said Yamada to Tashima. "This is exactly what we'll be doing on stage."
Tashima had straightened from her seat at the table, her mind already filling in the missing pieces of their experiment. Her dread was gone and replaced by amazement. "She's right. Conservation of Energy. It's so simple…," she murmured, shaking her head with a small grin. "This way, no one will get hurt. It's failproof!"
Getting up from the table, Tashima joined Hanamura, looking to Ms. Oshiro with newfound respect.
"So? What do you think?" Hanamura asked her, lifting a brow. "Is it safe to move forward?"
Tashima glanced to Rumi who remained wary at the other end of the classroom. Though her face was guarded, there was a glimmer of hope in her gaze. A last call for help.
"Welcome to Operation Magpie," said Tashima, offering her hand to Ms. Oshiro. "We look forward to collaborating with the science club." Then, smiling, she added, "You know what? We could do with a little razzle-dazzle."
Rumi closed her eyes, sighing in relief. A huge smile lit up her face, and she was quick to join the rest of the science club as they all gathered excitedly. Ms. Oshiro shook Tashima's hand.
"Thank you. We won't let you down. We just suffer from a little presentation anxiety is all," she said, looking to Kinji who was still moping by the ruined moquette.
"It's fine, it happens," said Izakaya, finally removing his distortion goggles so that he could walk over and pat his shoulder. "I nearly set the studio on fire every week." He mentioned offhandedly, glowing from the fact that Kinji was rendered impressed by this statement. "The risks we take for our craft, I tell ya."
Hanamura shared a humorous glance with Asano.
"I suppose if we're combining experiments, we should cross-reference our materials list," said Tashima with a click of her fancy silver pen. She retrieved her portfolio from the table, ready to take notes. "What exactly do you all need?"
Ms. Oshiro pinched her chin in thought. "Well, for starters, we're going to need 3 yards of 6-gage cable wire, potassium perchlorate, titanium, magnesium, and dextrin. But don't worry, I have all that in my personal stash; a small perk of interning for an explosives manufacturer in my undergrad," she explained with a small wink. "What we really need is some soldering tools though." She stopped, peering at Hanamura and Tashima with a zealous glint in her eyes. "Say…is it true the studio is outfitted for a welding gun?"
Hanamura and Tashima shared a brief glance.
"Yes?"
"Hmm." Ms. Oshiro rubbed her hands together, a smile spreading across her face. "We'll start there."
A/N: Oh dear, dear, dear. What could possibly go wrong? :D
I didn't think I would take us to school so hard in this chapter, but it was a blast finding real-life experiments as a means of introducing the science club: synthetic diamonds, tea leather, small nuclear reactors, and the famous Capuchin monkey grape experiment. (If you haven't come across this experiment on YouTube yet, I highly recommend giving it a watch. It's hilarious.) Was anyone else raised on a steady diet of Bill Nye the Science Guy or The Magic School Bus? How about Neil deGrasse Tyson? Ms. Oshiro is a combination of Mrs. Frizzle and my high school science teacher. *laughs*
The Swinging Pendulum Demonstration ended up being the perfect analogy for Hanamura undergoing the subtle shift from fearfulness to fearlessness. In Haikyuu, we get those incredible scenes where the volleyball is framed in the character's eyes as they reach a new level of insight. I wanted to give Hanamura something similar as a fun parallel. It was also such a delight juxtaposing this intense scene in the science lab with Tendou's rendezvous in the locker room. He really does make it sound like he's trying to abduct Hanamura.
"Breaking In (Searching the Factory)" – Daniel Pemberton
"Vivaldi's The Four Seasons: Summer 3" – Max Richter
"Don't Stop the Devil" – Dead Posey
Thank you so much for reading and for your AMAZING reviews! You all give me warm, fuzzy feelings. It really is the best sort of revenge for all the agony I'm putting you through. The suspense, the drama, the imminent danger…This update took me a little longer just for the sake of capturing the scene I've been carrying around in my head for so long. It's surreal to finally have it down in words – and to have the stage set for the final climax of this story. I can't wait to jump into the next update!
On a complete side note: would anyone be interested in a time-skip novella of Tendou and Hanamura? I just recently got bombarded by a colorful, lush, slightly more – ehem – mature story that would take place in Paris. Tendou as a chocolatier opens up many possibilities. This idea I have would scratch that romantic itch in the most delicious way possible…satisfy anyone in need of a dreamy, romantic trip abroad too. I think I'll jump into that right after The Small Things.
Have a great week everyone. Love you guys!
Until next time,
lavendermoonmilk