The sound of a ball bouncing against the gym floor reverberated throughout the whole space and rolled to a stop. Estelle didn't know whether she should be happy or shocked at his answer. Lipstick was one of the few things she wasn't wearing that day. Maybe he equated all makeup with the single item of makeup he knew, lipstick. Or he was really trying her. At least he didn't say a full face of makeup. But at the same time he had to say it in a way where it was rife with misunderstanding.
Estelle attempted to laugh loudly, repressing the slight anger and awkwardness from her voice. "Murasaki-san if you say it like that, people are going to misunderstand." She playfully slapped his arm. She held back the urge to slap the living daylight out of him. "I was lost in thought and accidently smacked into his shirt head first. I got a little makeup on it, and I felt bad so I offered to clean it for him."
"Aha so that's what it was," Okamura laughed, facial features relaxing.
"Well, if you would like to consider the position," the coach continued, "We'll be waiting with open arms. Could use a sensible girl to rattle some sense into them."
Estelle couldn't help but look at the coach's shinai. "Of course, I'll let you know."
She politely waved goodbye to the basketball team and the coach.
Probably not.
She walked home the same way she went to school. Avoiding crowds. Avoiding recognition. Avoiding small talk. Though, it was considerably darker than the time she usually went home.
Red sunset, red maple leaves, and a glow around dancing shadows on the ground. The wind was cool, but not cold. Strong enough to blow the leaves off of branches, but not too strong that it messed up her hair.
Golden hour. This called for a picture. Estelle whipped out her phone and snapped some shots of the Japanese maple, the color changing sunset, and of course, herself. A couple of selfies wouldn't hurt. This angle? Backlight. That angle? Sun got in her eyes. She turned in circles looking for that perfect angle.
Nice.
She swiped through her new photos. She needed to be more active on her idol unit page, and these pictures were perfect for that purpose. With a little tweaking and adjusting it would be perfect for—
What is that?
Estelle zoomed in on a selfie she just took. Around the corner, behind a wall, near a lamppost, stood a person. Baseball cap pulled low over the eyes, surgical mask covered most of the person's features. Not that there was anything wrong with people in her photo. But Estelle thought she would have noticed someone walking behind her. Especially if she was taking pictures. She would have noticed. Unless that person took steps to not be noticed.
Her heart beat harder and faster within her chest.
Don't flatter yourself, Estelle. It's just a coincidence.
She had once read that to see if someone's following you, to take three left turns. If they're still there, they're following you.
Golden hour was fading. She needed to decide. Take three left turns or go straight home.
It's just a coincidence.
She put her phone away into her bag. She walked forward. And took a left. Counting to 10, she inhaled and exhaled, forcing her heartbeat to slow down. Her heart was beating up into her throat and it was getting hard to breathe.
She took another left. As indiscreetly as possible, she unzipped her bag partially and her left hand enclosed around the craft scissors she had in her bag.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6… Inhale. Exhale.
She took her third left. Did the sun always set this fast? She came back to the red Japanese maple she took pictures next to. The shadows on the ground were long and twisted, eerily, slightly moving like specters.
7, 8, 9, 10. Exhale. Inhale. She took her phone out of her bag. She giggled as she twirled in circles taking more selfies. Though she tried, she was significantly less cheery than before.
Then she booked it. She stabbed her nails into the palm of her hand and bit the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from breaking into a run. Her apartment complex wasn't that far away.
You can do it. Step by step by step by step by step…
Once the clear double doors of her complex were in sight, she lost her nerve and ran to safety. The security guard was at his post, but he was dozing. She ran to the elevator and hit the up button. After what seemed to be an eternity, the metal doors opened and she slammed into the back of the elevator. Her breathing had evened out, but her knees felt weak. She felt like her knees were going to buckle under her at any moment and supported herself on the side railings of the elevator.
The elevator opened. Hurrying to her door, her hand trembled as she punched in the code. Her left hand steadied her right, and the door finally granted her entrance. She faceplanted into her couch.
For maybe the first time in a long time, she wished she didn't live alone. She threw her bag across the room. Estelle's poor heart had beat enough for two days. Going through pictures was a problem for tomorrow.
Just yesterday, she had told herself she wouldn't be taking this position. Yet here she was. In front of the gymnasium. Asking for the position.
She clutched her cell phone in her left hand. She hadn't looked at the photos yet. She was much too scared to do it alone, in her apartment, at night.
She pushed open the doors again. The sight was still unfamiliar to her. Many of the basketball players were very tall. She was so used to being taller than others that slightly tilting her head upward to look someone in the eye was foreign.
"Do you need something?"
Estelle was just eye level with a boy sporting the Yosen basketball jersey and light brown hair.
"Yeah, I came here yesterday and Coach Araki told me that they were looking for a manager for the team," Estelle responded.
"Eh, I didn't think Ms. Idol would be the type to want this position," he smirked at her.
She felt slightly offended. They didn't know each other well at all and it seemed a little too soon to be joking around like that. She began digging her nails into her palm.
"I'm flattered that you know of me. But I'm afraid I don't know your name," she smiled as sweetly as possible.
"Fukui Kensuke, I'm vice-captain of the team" he replied, smirk never leaving his face.
"Shinya Estelle," she stuck out her hand for a shake.
"Save that for later," Fukui referred to her hand, "I hope you're ready for an interview."
Estelle was growing increasingly miffed. She wasn't used to guys spurning her handshake.
"What interview?" She said.
"For the position," Fukui guffawed, "Maybe you don't know this, but Yosen has a pretty strong team. And we need a strong manager to keep up with us."
Estelle bit the inside of her cheek, "Of course, I know. I'm ready whenever you're ready."
She didn't know. She didn't keep up with sports, though she had dabbled in some sports in the past. If anything, she preferred volleyball.
"I'll get the others, you can sit," Fukui turned his back and headed towards the court.
She took a seat on the nearby risers. The metal was cold against the back of her thighs. Reaching into her bag, she looked at her phone and opened the photos to the most recent one. The photo was darkish. The sun was setting and the shadows were elongated, which made it hard to distinguish shadows from non-shadows. Her finger trembled ever so slightly as she zoomed into the picture and dragged it around to inspect a corner.
"Shinya-san!"
Estelle was visibly startled and jumped a little from her seat. She looked up. It was the hairy fellow from before, and following behind him were Fukui, Murasaki, Himuro, and another tall guy she didn't know the name of.
"I'm sorry did I scare you," the hairy fellow seemed very concerned.
She had forgotten his name, and she felt bad about it. Of course, Estelle remembered that she had met him, and that he was cute in an unconventional way, but just not his name. She just had to fake it until maybe he introduced himself again.
"No, no, it's just… your voice is really deep and I'm not used to hearing it is all," she smiled amiably.
The hairy fellow blushed.
Fukui smacked the hairy fellow's back, "Stop blushing, you gorilla."
She had hoped that he would use his name. "You gorilla" didn't help Estelle much.
"Shinya-san, good to see you again."
This gentlemanly voice could belong to no other than…
"Himuro-kun, same here." Estelle's cheeks hurt from smiling too much.
"We should introduce ourselves briefly before we start grilling you," Fukui grinned.
"That'd be great," Estelle responded.
"I'm Himuro Tatsuya." Himuro smiled.
"I'm Okamura Kenichi. I'm captain of the team," the hairy fellow said.
Oh, that's his name.
"I'm Fukui Kensuke." Smirking as usual.
"I'm Liu Wei."
Liu Wei was the one she had never met before. He was taller than Okamura, but shorter than Murasaki. He spoke softly with a slight accent to his voice. To Estelle, his eyes had a cute slant upwards, which was an interesting contrast to the slight downward turn of his lips.
The only one left was…
"Atsushi, introduce yourself," Himuro pressed.
The purple titan was severely unamused, "Murasakibara Atsushi."
Oh, she had been calling him Murasaki-san by mistake. It was Murasakibara. That was a whole six syllables to remember.
"I'm Shinya Estelle. Nice to meet you all!" Estelle reminded herself to keep smiling.
"Well, there's more people on the team," Fukui continued, "But we're the five that you'll probably interact with the most."
She nodded.
"Let's get started then," Fukui yawned. He didn't seem terribly invested in this interview. "Who wants the first question?"
"Do you know how to cook?" Okamura blurted out.
Fukui stared at him, "What kind of question is that?"
Okamura looked sheepish, "Well, you know, we're here at practice pretty late. And it'd be nice to eat… something handmade."
He was cute after all. Estelle laughed, "Yes, I can cook. I think cooking is actually one of my few strong suits."
Okamura's expression brightened significantly.
"Then…"
Estelle's eyes turned to Murasakibara.
"Why here?" He said with a lollipop in the side of his cheek.
"Excuse me?" Estelle needed some clarification.
"Why basketball?"
Equally unhelpful elaboration. Estelle clutched her cell phone in her left hand a little tighter.