Author's Note: E3 is upon us, distracting my productivity as I go into full-tilt gamer mode. So many shiny new things! It's hard to stay on task.

Here's chapter ten, slightly later than I'd like. I hope you enjoy!


Mizore's hand tickled, coaxing her from sleep. She ached, feeling like great weight pressed down on her neck and back, pinning her to the smooth, cold surface she rested upon.

She sniffed, nose filled with new paper and the faintest hint of wood. Whatever she slept on clung feebly to her cheek as she rose. White paper fell away, revealing diagrams and paragraphs annotated with post-it notes. Mizore loosed a groan, flopping back in her chair, raking her tangled mop of hair. Asleep at her desk, caught in the frenzy of exam cramming.

Pulling her hand back, a sharp clatter caught her drowsy ire. She'd dropped her phone, and turning it over to check the time sent a bolt of energy along her spine, straightening her back and causing her next breath to hiss between grit teeth. It buzzed again, a white bar filling her screen with the text notification.

S. Sasahara: 'Where are you?'

Mizore toppled sideways out of her chair and fell into her clothes, hopping into her trousers. She cursed with every awkward jump, and this only worsened as a light rapping told her someone waited at the door. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" she shouted, as the knocking grew more insistent. "God – hang on – what?"

She threw the door open with such force that she lost her breath. The suck of air disturbed the high point on what could charitably be called a ludicrously large witch's hat.

Yukari looked up from underneath the brim. At fifteen she'd grown a small measure from her academy days, but still needed to clasp the accessory to her head when she craned to see her friends. "Are you-"

"Just waking up? Yes." Mizore huffed, slumping against the doorframe.

"Rough night?"

"No – Yukari, what are you doing here?"

Deciding that brevity would ease this particular exchange with an exhausted, crabby yuki-onna, Yukari replied. "A peculiar happenstance necessitated Ruby's immediate attention. She would have inquired after you, otherwise – but I found myself with neither pressing business nor-"

"Slow, slow down. Breathe." Mizore groaned. "I need a coffee… What 'peculiar happenstance'?"

The young witch needed only to show her wrist, tapping a small finger against it, for Mizore's eyes to roll. "Again?"

"She'll have it well in hand – but yes, again."

"If I could have one day without something setting off the alarm…"

"You shall. Besides – I believe you have a clubroom to advertise? Susumu asked after you."

"Susumu – oh, god. Right!" Mizore bolted, nearly forgetting to lock her door. Yukari's cape fluttered in the breeze she left in her wake, watching where her friend stood mere moments ago.

"Oh, Mizore…"


For all the times Ikko had accidentally met Masumi's glare across the room, for all the times Kia shied them away from his hangouts or spent lamenting the circumstance over a coffee, he always considered the guy a problem on the periphery. Not something for him to deal with – who was he to involve himself in the affairs of another's breakup? – just something for him to sympathize with. To murmur assents and offer 'it's okays' when suitably prompted, like an NPC repeating a chat option. Heartfelt enough, with on point and succinct delivery of his dialogue, but recycled and automatic whenever Kia veered towards the topic, before she picked herself up off the back of his comforting and moved onto the next thought.

Four strides to cross the space between them was all it took for that peripheral problem to lurch straight into view. To stare him down with green eyes blossoming with a wild glare blooming with savagery. Masumi didn't so much as invite respect so much as he inspired it, standing tall, limber and fair like a young maple. He smiled with sincerity that, had it been Kia, Etsuko or any other soul, Ikko would have responded to, and in that same gesture the ferocity of his eyes dampened into a gleam approaching polite curiosity. "You must be Akada," said he, with a wisp of a voice as soft and gentle as his face, "I don't think we've been properly introduced. Masumi Yakumaru."

His hand opened with a flourish, offered to Ikko. He stared at it, digging his hands into his pockets. "My, Kia must have painted me as quite the villain. Sorry – Tayama." He chuckled, tone wilting. He retracted his hand to sweep back a styled cut of platinum blond hair. "Old habits. I guess it's to be expected."

"What are you doing here?" Kia hissed.

"Isn't it obvious?" Masumi opened his arms to the clubroom. "Joining the esteemed newspaper club. Karate rather lost its charm when I lost my training partner. Judo might be sticking with it, though. I think he enjoys the discipline. Are you applying as well?"

Nothing he said outwardly offended, but every honey-laced word riled Kia further. She released it all in a long, shoulder-slumping sigh, but for her sake Ikko at least tried to glower. "Not anymore," she growled. Her arms folded, and she locked onto the floor as if it might carry her away from the encounter.

"A pity," Masumi answered immediately, flawlessly. He reached out gingerly for her shoulder. "I'd been meaning to talk to you. Y'know, we miss you – if you ever want to come out with us…?"

"Ikko," she announced, abruptly. Her voice trailed as she escaped the room. "I'll be outside."

Her slamming the door drew more than a few pairs of eyes, and plenty of hushed whispering. Masumi exhaled, loud enough for Ikko to hear, letting his hand hover in disappointment. "Guess it's still a bit too raw. My apologies, Akada – she must be quite the handful."

"N-no, she's uh…" Ikko realised he hadn't spoken a word until now. He cleared his throat. "She's okay. This is a bit weird, really."

"Weird?" he asked. "Ah, of course. I understand. Of all the things to come from our breakup, I imagine it must be quite jarring to realise that I'm not quite the monster she's been harping on about. Right?"

"U-um…"

"It's okay. It's fresh, for the pair of us. I regret a lot of my decisions that day." Masumi sighed, crestfallen. "Still, you should get after her, shouldn't you? Here's my registration."

He brushed past Ikko to hand over the slip of paper to Etsuko, who broke from her onlooking to accept it. "R-right. Thanks…"

He smiled at Ikko, leaving him wondering if he'd imagined the savagery thanks to Kia's retelling, and left for the rest of the festival. Etsuko looked at the paper, turning it over. "Masumi Yakumaru…"

"Long name," Ikko mumbled, trying to sound helpful, but Etsuko drew away from the conversation, reading his name over and again.

"Yakumaru…"

"Uh… Etsuko?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry!" She laughed, tucking the registration form into the chest of her cheerleader's garb. Ikko yanked his eyes away in time. "I gotta get back to the festival. Find Kia, will you? She probably needs a friend right about now."

"Wh-" She span with a flash of copper flame and a winsome smile, striding back to the newspaper stall. Sparing one last look at the display of the club's history, Ikko set off to find Kia.

He'd taken no more than five steps from the room when his world span, lurching violently to one side. His head knocked against the hard floor, vision sparking. Ikko groaned, curling in on himself. A large hand touched his shoulder. "You okay?"

Ikko tried to look at the man he'd bumped into. A titan, with arms like great trunks and a neck only slightly thinner. He frowned down at the puny lad who'd bounced off him with quiet concern. "Y-yeah." Ikko murmured, pushing himself up to stand. His shikigami vibrated against his wrist, and he pulled his disturbed sleeve over her before anyone could see. "Augh…"

"Head?" grunted the man. He offered a hand. "Your name?"

"Ikko. Akada – Ikko Akada."

"Mm. Good." The giant helped him stand, or more accurately plucked him from the ground like a tiger picked up their young, setting him unsteadily down to stand on his own. "No concussion. Please be careful."

He lumbered past Ikko, who shook his head and leaned against the wall to catch his breath. Where had he come from? The festival was so busy he couldn't tell which way the man arrived from, and he now blended into the crowds, lost forever. Such being the nature of a cultural event, he decided, Ikko renewed his purpose and set out to find Kia. Having neither phone to text her nor any idea where she meant by 'outside', he wandered aimlessly. They had just bumped into Masumi, whom she desperately desired to avoid. He followed such hints until he found her, staring into her phone in a quiet, unused corridor on the first floor, near where they'd first looked out on the festival.

"Hey," he cleared his throat, announcing himself.

Kia's leaky eyes shot up, finding his. She sniffed, pocketing her phone. "Hey."

"I couldn't find you."

"Yeah – sorry. Got a little…" she looked out onto the crowds. "Got a little turned around."

Ikko bridged the last few steps that separated them, leaning on the railing next to her. "He's nice, isn't he?" she asked.

"Who?"

"Don't 'who' me. Masumi."

"Oh." Ikko pondered. "Eh. Anyone can be nice."

"No, but like nice. Like 'I wonder why she's so torn up' nice."

"I mean-"

"'Cuz I am!" Kia carried on, leaving him to realise that his part in the conversation was not to offer dialogue. Such was her wont, to bounce her words off him in the hopes of finding some that might stick. "I am. It sucks. I hate being alone. I hate seeing him with all my friends. I hate how goddamn nice he is to everyone. And to you!"

She growled and raged, so much so that he could practically see the corner such feelings backed her into. Ikko shifted away, digging his hands into his pockets. "Doesn't Etsuko count?" he asked. "Don't I?"

"I don't mean – Ikko, come on, you know I don't mean it like that."

"Don't you? If you're alone even with us, then…"

"'Course I'm not! Are you deaf?" She advanced on him, fists balling.

Ikko flinched but held his ground. He dug deep, finding in himself the resolve not to flee, as instinct demanded; but to smile, as his desire to reach out to her inspired. "Then why does it matter what Masumi says?"

"It-" Kia paused. Her cheeks flushed. "It doesn't, but…"

"But…?"

She wiped her eyes on her blazer sleeve, sniffling. "But nothing! Let me be sad!"

"You wouldn't let me be alone." Ikko whispered. He tried what she had, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder. "Why should I let you be sad?"

To his relief, Kia leaned into the touch, cheek brushing against the back of his hand. "Fair's fair." He urged, squeezing gently.

She nodded, quietly shuffling forward. Kia gripped to his shirt – he felt her nails scrape against his chest as she bundled polyester in small hands. He didn't move, keeping his hand on her shoulder. "Ikko." Came her muffled sigh.

"Mm?"

"This is where you hug me."

"Oh." He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, hunching forward slightly to secure her against him. He felt warmth in her, measured the way her shoulders yet shook with the ghosts of her tears, slowly regaining a regular rhythm. Enduring the last gasp of her upset, Kia's arms snaked around his midriff, hanging loosely about his waist. She whispered thanks, brushing against his chest. Could she feel his heart, thundering and stuttering against his ribs?

"S'okay." He mumbled, fighting past this novel onslaught of complicated, blood-boiling emotion to return to the present, with her. "You did the same."

"I don't know what it is. I see him and I just- he just…" She tensed. Ikko squeezed, and she melted back into the embrace. "I hate it…"

"We can join another club. Etsuko'll understand – and you won't have to deal with Masumi. Sound good?"

"Sounds great."

She held to him for a long time – so long that their bodies grew used to each other's warmth. Kia drew away, smiling up at him with glistening eyes. Reflex curled his lips before he knew what he was doing.

"Ikko?"

A new voice nipped at his ear, but he couldn't break from Kia's eyes. Bright, brilliant eyes. Kind eyes. Any brighter and he might spy his reflection in them, not that he wanted to. Her eyes were bright enough for both of them.

"Ikko!"

He felt Kia shift, rolling onto the tips of her toes. Hands that wrapped about his waist now clung afresh to his shirt, holding her up; pulling him down. Coaxing, ever so gently, that he might catch the sweetened scent of her perfume…

"Ikk-oh!" Ruby's voice cut like cold steel. Kia sprung away, cheeks flushing dark red. Ikko hovered, pose suspended in jelly as he processed the unwelcome lack of Kia in the following breaths. "Sorry! Sorry, I didn't mean-"

She approached nevertheless, dressed in her usual garb. Kia tore away, suddenly fascinated by her phone. "Is this a bad time?" Ruby whispered, with a glance to his friend's back.

"No," Ikko murmured. Did his cheeks burn in response to the dusting of pink on Ruby's? Foreign indignance coiled around his tongue, a stranger wrapping an arm over his shoulder. He did his best to ignore it. "No, it's… fine. What's up?"

"What's up? Oh!" Ruby caught her breath. "Black went mad. I thought you were in trouble, not, uh…"

Why did she keep looking to Kia? For her part, she coiled even more about her phone. Ikko briefly entertained the notion that she aimed to crawl into the device, feeling empathy for the desire. He didn't quite understand why he wanted Ruby gone, but he did – even if she was being so nice. "N-no, we're fine. I'm fine. Ran into Masumi, that's about it. No big deal."

"Right." Ruby nodded. "Right. Okay. Well. Er- I'll… leave you to it." She took a few steps back, still facing the pair. "Sure nothing's wrong?"

"I'm sure!" Ikko blurted. Ruby, stifling a giggle, mouthed an emphatic 'Sorry!' before turning tail and hastening back into the crowds. Watching her leave, Ikko realised that he wasn't breathing properly. It came fast, sharp, excited. His fingers flexed, craving their grip on something.

No, not something. Someone. He turned around to Kia, still buried in her phone, and thought briefly of holding her shoulder again, reaching out to renew their embrace. His arms didn't quite obey him, a bizarre cocktail of nerves and the sensation of being caught in some terrible act staying his touch. He tried clearing his throat. "Kia?"

"What?" she yelped, nearly dropping her phone in her haste to spin around. She flattened her hair, tugging at the end of her ponytail. "What? Sorry – what?"

"You okay?"

"Fine! Great!" She spoke very loudly. Her cheeks yet burned, but only reached a soft crimson. "Why?"

"Uh…" Ikko couldn't quite grasp an answer. He looked to the corridor, to the throng of students. "Should we… find a club?"

"Club?"

"Yeah. To join."

She didn't quite understand, eyes a little bit on the wild side, smile caught in a quivering halfway slope. Manic, if he had to describe it – and that caused him to worry. Had the embrace been a bad thing? Had he misread?

"Do you need a minute?" He inquired.

"Why… would I need a minute?" she replied, stammering. Is that what he sounded like?

"I don't know." He fished for a proper answer. "Did… did you just lose control a little?"

"What? No!" Kia stumbled, hands flapping. "Well, yes- but no! Not like- not like that. Like…" Her yes darted from his. She scrunched them shut, tight, coiling – and then sprung into action, grabbing his wrist. "Come on! Club!"

"C-club!" Ikko agreed. Marching orders thusly received, they plunged back into the madding crowd, leaving their disturbed moment to gnaw at the back of Ikko's mind.


They didn't see Masumi for the rest of the day. Thusly focussed on their mission to find a club, Ikko found all his troubled thoughts drowning in the volume and splendour of the club festival. They played games, partook in demos, toured clubrooms – so many and so varied that he could barely keep track of them all.

At last, desperate to put his feet up, Ikko called for a break. They stopped by a vending machine. "My feet. Oh, god, my feet…"

He peeled a shoe off and left his foot rest on cold stone, sighing relief. Kia laughed. "You're such a wuss."

"I haven't walked that far since I fell asleep on the bus in middle school…"

"Yeowch. Want something?"

Kia, neither drained by the journey nor perturbed by the business, sprung up towards the vending machine. "Something cold. Anything cold."

"Okay. Uh…"

One clack, two. Ikko slumped forward, soothing his blazing soles with feeble massages. A cold shock bit into his neck, washing welcome ice into his body. "Better?"

Kia kneeled at his side, nearly as close as she'd been when Ruby interrupted them. Though she couldn't see, she heard the smile in his sigh. "Better…"

"'Bout time we stopped, really. We need to decide on a club, before all the slots get filled!"

Replacing her hand with his, he took a moment to slake his thirst whilst she took a seat next to him, stretching out. "Gaming." He nodded, thinking back to that first blissful hour spent on the consoles they'd set up in one beautifully air conditioned, furnished gaming room.

"No. No gaming. That's the reason you're out here, remember?"

"Aw…"

"What about the cooking club?" Kia suggested. "That looked fun."

Ikko shook his head. "Too intense."

"But you're a great cook!"

"I'm not great!" He rebuked. "Not like they are. Half of 'em wanted a cook-off."

"Oh, yeah. Some hazing…" Kia hummed. "What're you having for tea, by the way?"

"You mean what're we having for tea?" Ikko drained another third of his soda. "No idea."

"We should get Etsuko up."

"I'm not cooking for three!" Ikko sighed. The supplies stocking his sacred half of the sixth floor kitchen dwindled with disturbing rapidity. He made a note to buy groceries. "What other clubs were there."

"Mm… drama?"

"I can't act."

"No. No you can't." Kia snorted.

"You weren't much better."

"Hey!"

"What about…" They listed every single club they'd visited, finding that when one agreed, the other found fault.

Both slumped forward, defeated. "Not a single club we both want…" Ikko groaned.

"Let me see the map." Kia held out her hand. He fished for the crumpled, printed guide to all the stalls they'd used to plot their circuit of the festival. "Done that. Done that. No, no, no… wait, did we miss one?"

"What?" Ikko followed the line of her finger. She pointed to a tiny room marked 'Wr', the rest of the word cut off thanks to formatting and the frankly miniscule square it slotted into. "Wr… Wrestling?"

"Wrestling?" Kia's brow shot up. "In the middle of the cultural quarter?"

"Oh, right. Uh… Whittling? It could be a Wh-"

It was very small font. "How about we find out?" Kia rolled up the map, standing.

Ikko whinged. "I just sat down…"

"Oh, boo-hoo. Come on! We need to find a club!"

"Ugh…" He made a show of wrestling his shoes back on, standing with slumped shoulders. "Alright."

They retraced their steps, tracking down the corner that the mysterious 'Wr' club tucked themselves into. A classroom – to no surprise, thought Ikko. Without a dedicated clubroom, and only a small paper poster tacked to the front, small wonder they and every other student wandered past it.

"Writing!" Ikko read, gesturing with his finger.

"Ugh." It was Kia's turn to slump.

He tried to reassure her. "C'mon, it doesn't look as busy as newspaper. We can at least have a look…?"

Writing didn't sound so bad. It certainly made for a calmer pastime than gaming, cooking, or – he recalled his trial audition with a cringe – acting. He knocked on the door.

No response. "Maybe they're packing up for the day?" he wondered.

"It's unlocked." Kia took charge, sliding open the door and striding in. Ikko followed suit.

It took him a full ten seconds to realise that this was, indeed, a club. Not even a handful of members looked up from their distractions. Three, he counted. The first to respond, a woman wearing her hair up in a knot and chewing on a pencil, grinned broadly and lunged from her seat. She wore gloves – thick, black gloves that immediately drew Ikko's eye. "Hi there!"

"Hi." Ikko responded, looking to the remaining two members. They sat next to each other, the boy still flicking through his phone, eyes almost entirely obscured by a heavy fringe. His deep set frown seemed carved into his very being. His polar opposite practically shrieked at the sight of them, joyfully clapping her hands together. "Newbies! We got newbies! We're not the only ones!"

"Uh-" Ikko looked to the door. He looked to Kia. She shrugged. "…Yes. You do 'got newbies'."

"Sweet! Oi, Sushi. Sushi!"

The small girl jostled the screen addict, who valiantly pretended to be somehow even less interested in the development. Did they make people so tiny in the human world, Ikko wondered? Did she have any business shouting slightly louder than a freight train? These questions and more were stifled by the approaching woman, who offered a hand to the pair of them. She shook Ikko's and then Kia's, firm and sure. "Sorry about those two. I'm Susumu Sasahara, junior. This is my club. Well, mine and…"

She opened her arm up to the teacher's desk. Slumped forward, head in her arms, snoring gently, slept Mizore.

Kia gasped. Ikko blinked. "Please forgive Miss Shirayuki," Susumu bowed, her head. "I think she's been burning the midnight oil."

"I can hear you," called Mizore, grumbling from the depths of her makeshift pillow.

"Yes, Miss." Susumu winked. "So! Are you here to join, or just looking?"

"That's my line…" Mizore dragged herself into looking up. Bleary eyes spied the pair, waking just enough to recognise them. "Oh. S'you two. Hey there."

Ikko waved, struck dumb. She looked one sleepless night away from deciding that even consciousness might be too much effort. He clasped his wrist, feeling partly responsible. "Afternoon, Miss Shirayuki."

"Welcome to the Writing Club," she offered, stifling a yawn. Kia fidgeted, lingering by the door. Clearly her idea of a club involved slightly more people and slightly fewer sleeping teachers, "We're new. S'not much, but it's here for you guys to chill and… write."

"We did have a better marketing plan," Susumu quipped, "But the Newspaper Club stole our uniforms."

Ikko chuckled. The two youngsters now left the table, tiny girl dragging slouching boy, and they formed a small circle in the middle of the classroom.

"Are you here to join?" asked the girl. Ikko marvelled at her, hastily revising his definition of 'really short' to replace Kia with this girl. She looked tiny enough to sit reasonably comfortable on his shoulder, with a full head of distressed silver hair and massive grass-green eyes. "Oh, please say yes! It's no fun if it's just the two of us."

"Three," corrected the boy, still staring at his phone. Ikko spied the cable of an earbud feeding up into that graceless mop of dark hair.

"Sushi, you don't count."

"Sushi?" Kia piped up, nudging into the circle.

"It's his name," chirped the girl. Susumu laughed.

"No, it's not. This is Naoko Banno," she held her hand over the girl's head, "…and Nori Aiba. First-years."

"Newbies!" agreed Naoko, hand shooting up. It barely reached Ikko's chest. "Nori. Y'know, like in sushi."

Nori seemed unfazed, sold entirely to stoicism. Either that, or he'd somehow managed to tune Naoko's taunting completely out of his range of hearing, Ikko couldn't tell.

Kia introduced herself first, apparently warming to the bemusing, shrieking Naoko. "I'm Kia Tayama – second-year. This here's Ikko."

She shot Ikko a look that sang dangerously close to 'Can we keep her?' Ikko waved. "Ikko Akada. Second-year."

"Sweet!" Susumu clapped her hands together, leather dulling the noise. "Two first, two second, one third."

"One staff." Mizore murmured, chair scraping. "I'm getting a drink."

"One staff." Susumu rolled her eyes. "She's awful when she's tired."

"Heard that!" Mizore shut the door.

"See?" Another laugh. Susumu looked between everyone gathered. "If you're willing, Akada, Tayama, we'd love to have you. We're going to be a pretty chill club, not like the rest of 'em. We're just here to make friends and have some fun with our writing, maybe take on a couple of competitions, y'know?"

If he had any boxes at all for club criteria, Ikko found all of them ticked. "Sounds good to me. Kia?"

Kia had already taken to Naoko, and the pair were chattering animatedly, moving away from the group. Ikko watched them leave – Nori, too, retreated to the corner of the table, hunching over his phone. Susumu beamed, clapping her hands together. "I think that's a yes! Welcome to the club. Now, where are those forms…"

She saw them just behind Ikko, and leaned forward to claim them. "Oh, sorry-" Ikko began to reach towards them, turning to let her past.

"No, it's okay, I-" Her hand grazed his arm. Susumu yelped.

Ikko flinched, jumping away – but not before she did the same. Silence crashed over the classroom. Kia and Naoko stared. Even Nori looked up from his phone. Ikko stared at Susumu, confused. "D-did I step on you?"

Susumu didn't respond. She cradled the hand that touched him. Ikko clasped his wrist. She tracked every movement he made, amethyst eyes opened wide enough to reveal the whites, flicking from hand to face, to feet as he backed away. "S-S-Susumu…?"

"Y-you're…" she began. Her eyes flicked to the door. "You're…"

Ikko's shock warped. Dread took its place, for he realised it was not fear in Susumu's eyes.

Her eyes blazed with recognition.