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Skylight
Nagatoro raised her chin toward the ceiling. For some odd reason, her hair felt weightless and stood up straight, and its tips brushed the tiles.
Wait. Something 's off. That's not the ceiling. That's the floor.
She was upside-down. She shifted her gaze toward her feet. Her bare feet. Which matched the state of the rest of her body.
I'm naked?
She tried moving her hands, but they wouldn't budge. She twisted her hips to get a better look. Several loops of soft cotton rope bound her crossed wrists at the small of her back. In contrast to the rough twine, this cord kept her wrists snug and warm. It felt familiar.
She studied her ankles. They were tied as well, just as snugly, and connected to a length of rope dangling from the center of a skylight through which the sun streamed in. Dark handles tipped the cord at both ends.
Aha. It 's a jump rope.
She lowered her gaze and scanned her surroundings. She recognized Senpai's easel, although it stood upside-down. As did his shelves, cabinets, and closets. As usual, her clothes formed a neat pile at the foot of the sofa. She was in the art club room with everything in its proper place, except…
"Senpai?" she cautiously asked the air.
There was no reply.
She struggled with all her might to pull her wrists and ankles apart, but the rope didn't budge. The effort caused her to swing a bit.
The clank of an aluminum bat hitting a baseball drew her attention to the windows. White puffy clouds dotted an otherwise clear blue sky. She looked past her feet. Sunlight streaming in through the skylight made her squint while the rays pleasantly warmed her bare soles.
"Senpai?" she asked again, this time a little louder.
Once again, no reply.
She snapped her head toward the rattling doors, then shifted her shoulders to spin her body in the sound's direction. The panels vibrated with a metallic cling as the padlocked latches did their job.
"Hey, Hayacchi, are you in there?" came Gamo-chan's voice. "Open the door."
"Let us in," echoed Yoshi as the doors rattled again.
Nagatoro felt inclined to answer her friends, but quickly stifled the inclination. Hanging by her ankles, upside-down, bound and nude, her hair brushing the floor as she swayed—she'd rather they didn't find her this way. She remained silent.
She tried separating her wrists again, but her snug bindings didn't budge. She scanned the space once more. If she could swing herself toward something sharp enough to cut the ropes, she might get free. But hanging at the center of the room kept everything out of reach.
"Senpai," she said a little louder. "Where are you?"
BOOM.
Gamo-chan slammed her shoulder into the door after taking a running start. The panels bucked but held. "Let us in, Hyacchi."
"Unlock the doors," said Yoshi.
A louder BOOM followed as both her friends tried breaching the doors together. Nagatoro imagined them bouncing back into the hallway.
"Do you ladies need a hand?" came the voice of a male classmate.
"We need to get in." Gamo-chan knocked on the door. "But it's locked. Can you help us?"
"Sure." The door rattled again as the guy tested it.
Another guy said, "These panels are super solid, and the room is locked up tight." A pause. "I'll be right back."
Silence.
Nagatoro meditated on her status as a pendulum weight, turning her gaze toward her feet and the stretch of exposed skin that led to breasts which gravity pulled in an unconventional direction.
She jerked at the sound of a chainsaw spinning up.
"This'll do the job," shouted the guy wielding it. The saw whined at an elevated pitch when he gave it gas.
The doors shook and rattled as a cutting chain assaulted the wood.
"Senpai!" Nagatoro shouted, though she could barely hear herself over the noise emanating from the doors. "Help me!"
The light coming through the skylight darkened as if a cloud had covered the sun. The chainsaw blade poked a hole through the door and altered its direction toward the lock latch.
"Senpai!" Nagatoro bent her knees, tucked her body, and twisted, but couldn't free herself. Sparks flew from the metal latch as it slowed the progress of the chainsaw.
The skylight opened wide. The wind rushing through the opening cooled Nagatoro's body and whipped her hair about.
She rose slowly. Her feet cleared the opening, then her knees and her torso. She was outside. Another deafening noise replaced the noise of the chainsaw.
The jump rope that once connected Nagatoro's feet to the skylight frame now tethered her to a helicopter gaining altitude. The roof of the school building grew smaller as she rose. All of campus came into view.
The baseball team practiced on the sports field adjacent to the building. Next door, the swimming pool shimmered as it reflected the sky and clouds. The chopper picked up speed over the parking lot as it gained altitude.
Though the world below grew smaller, her bindings held her snug and safe. Having navigated away from campus, the chopper flew toward the city center. Nagatoro arched her back and took in a bird's-eye view of the shops and cafes she'd visited.
Where are we going?
She bent forward and focused on the helicopter. Visible through the open side door, a lone pilot wearing a helmet and goggles steered the aircraft. His frame looked familiar. Although a microphone covered the lower part of his face, it didn't hide the bruise discoloring his chin.
"Senpai!" Nagatoro shouted. "Senpai!" She struggled to wave her hands.
The pilot turned, lowered his microphone, and lifted his goggles. Senpai shot Nagatoro a thumbs-up sign before putting the goggles and microphone back in place.
Nagatoro nodded. The helicopter headed toward the water. Moments later, it sped over the beach where she and her friends hung out.
"Where are you taking me?" she shouted, though she barely heard herself over the din of the chopper's blades.
She swung back and forth when the helicopter halted and hovered above the water several hundred yards from the beach.
She looked up. The kneeling pilot's frame filled the copter's side opening. Senpai snipped the air with a pair of scissors before pressing them against the jump rope.
SNIP.
The rope disappeared, along with the helicopter. When Nagatoro pulled her wrists apart, nothing inhibited them. Her feet separated as well. She felt weightless, thousands of feet above the sea.
The wind whipped her hair skyward. She flailed her arms and legs as the ocean rushed toward her. Eventually, she managed to control her fall like a skydiver—horizontal, spread eagle, but lacking a parachute.
As the water approached, her swimmer's instincts took over. She rolled into a dive, formed fists to make a hole in the water, and clenched her eyes shut.
SPLASH.
Fluid enveloped her. But the water felt warm. It smelled nice too.
She shook her head clear and opened her eyes—to find herself soaking in her bathtub. After blinking several times, she lifted a handful of bubbles.
Wow, what a crazy dream.
She checked her wrists and ankles, still lightly bruised from Senpai's tickle attack. As she rubbed them, a wide smile lit up her face. She reached for her phone and dialed his number.
He answered on the third ring. "Hello."
"Whatcha doing, Senpai?" She chuckled. "Are you sitting alone behind your computer screen looking at perverted things?" She imagined his cheeks flushing.
"Not really… sort of… I have a new background picture."
"Are you sure that's safe? What if your parents walk in?"
"Nobody ever bothers me in my room."
A moment of silence.
"Hey, Senpai, how is your jaw?"
"It's okay."
"Show me."
"What do you mean?"
"Turn on your camera and show me." Nagatoro extended her arm to see the phone screen. The video feed of his bruise materialized. "Oh, that doesn't look too bad."
He rubbed his chin. "It's not. How are your wrists and ankles?" Senpai's face came into view as he moved the phone away. When he saw Nagatoro, his eyes bulged for a moment. Then his visage softened, and a smile drew on his lips. "I see you're in the bathtub again."
She rotated her wrist at breast-level. "I'm fine. You won't see anything in a couple of days. Next time you paint me, we're going to use softer ropes."
"Really?"
"Let's do a pose of me sitting. Maybe next week?"
"Sure."
"Hey Senpai, have you ever flown in a helicopter?"
"No."
"Do you know if the shop class has a chainsaw?"
"I don't know, but they might. Why are you asking me all these crazy questions?"
"No reason. I'll let you get back to your pervy thoughts." She waved goodbye and tapped the disconnect button.
Author's Notes: So tell me, at what point did you figure out it was a dream? The art club room is actually on the top floor but I'm pretty sure there isn't a skylight. Which puts the room on the fourth floor, not the third, unless they count them in Japan like they do in England. Whatever! - SK