2. Wind That Cuts Like Knives

It's a lie you can strap on
and live with for a long time, and imagine is your life.

—Bruce Weigl, One Lie

The game never changes.

-.-.-

Junpei decides that he would get the beef himself.

You three are planning a barbeque, as a sort of casual get-together for your friends and people who live in the building, to build community and so on—but mostly because Yukari is too broke for shopping and Junpei's gaming console is in the shop for repairs. You, however, are genuinely excited about this. You don't get to see the other residents of the dormitory very much, and that feels wrong somehow.

"Let's get wagyu beef!" Junpei cries out excitedly, eyeing the marbled slabs of thickly cut meat with intense desire.

"We'd be able to get about a gram of wagyu with our budget," you look at him sympathetically, although you wouldn't mind some, if you are honest. "Yukari already spent most of the money on tofu." Which is why Junpei has overcome his extraordinary gift for laziness and is taking this up on himself.

"Oh c'mon, we can spare some change on this!" he pleads.

Well, yes, you suppose. There is a ridiculous, unexplained amount of riches in your bank account, you think it's some sort of inheritance from your parents, although your family has never been rich (maybe life insurance?) But you three had agreed to split the costs for this barbeque, being a joint endeavour and all. "Fine," you cave in (but of course you do), "I'll cover it, but you owe me one."

"Yes," Junpei jumps and immediately forgoes you for picking out the fattiest, most enticing slices of meat. His straightforward, unadulterated enthusiasm is catching, and you can't help smiling. The end of the school year is coming, which means exams. Although you have a decidedly firm grasp on all the subjects, it's still nice to be distracted by something so simple and joyous as planning a party. And spending time with Junpei is always a sure-fire way to relax.

And 70,000 yen is a small price for something so priceless, you remind yourself as you swipe your card at the register, mouth souring into a line.

"Oh," Junpei cries dramatically near you, "I shall find no true love in this world truer than yours!"

"You mean the true love of wagyu beef?" you ask, ignoring the prying and not-that-subtle glances of the cashier.

"The sky is blue, the birds are singing," he continues to dance around, "let's get back and start eating now!"

You shake your head (fondly), finish your signature, and heads to the exit.

"Hey, hey," Junpei calls out from behind you two, "aren't you taking at least one of these bags?"

"I paid for most of them," you drawl out, throwing a commanding glance at him, "so you might as well dish out some labor."

He complains about the weight all the way back, and you ignore him good-humouredly.

You push open the front doors to your dormitory lobby and bellow out a loud, "Assemble!"

Yukari is startled out of painting her nails on the table, crashing her hand into the UV ray lamp for her gel manicure. "Ugh," she grumbles, "you nearly made me mess up the artwork."

"Nearly," you smile brightly and unabashedly at her, padding her shoulder, "C'mon now, we have to get things started on the roof before people start going up there."

"It's one," she whines, "hardly even anybody awake yet at this hour."

"We're the only one who sleeps pass this hour, Yukari," Junpei joins the conversation, "And we're both up! Now help me carry all of this shit up the stairs," he gestures wildly to the heap of plastic bags at the door.

Yukari rolls her eyes and goes back to her lamp.

"Let her finish her nails first," you tell Junpei, "and then the both of you cooperate in bringing up food, okay?"

"Where are you going?" Junpei asks.

"Why, I," you wink at the both of them, "am embarking on a subterfuge mission to bring suitable beverages to this occasion."

That gets the two of them in a good mood. Honestly, you think to yourself as you whistle up the stairs to your room, one would think that after a whole year of being friends, the two of them could stand being in the same room without ripping out each other's throat. Oh the burdens of leadership, you lament to yourself, some people are just born to be leaders, and alas you are one of those.

Some plum wine for Yukari, your favorite spoilt princess, and soju for Junpei, who is going through this phase of Korean liquor for god-knows-what reason since it tasted so bad. Some grapefruit and orange juices for Fuuka and Ken, because they won't drink voluntarily, although Ken might be persuaded to take a bit of beer, so you'll bring that too. Wine for the classy Mitsuru-senpai (although you suppose she would nominally object to drinking, but you have seen her taking dinner with a glass of wine). Akihiko-senpai's secret favorite rice lager. Nobody in their right state of mind would even think about pressuring Aigis into doing anything, let alone drinking. Your own favorite nigori sake. The rest of the invitees can just choose from one of the above or drink the extra bottle of middle-shelf sake you haven't gotten around to drinking yet. There's also a carefully tucked away bottle of Lustau dry aged Oloroso sherry—it's not that expensive, so you don't know why it's positioned so far back, protected and out of sight. You don't even care for sherry, unless it's cream sherry, and nobody here likes this.

You pause.

How do you know so surely everybody's preference?

Whatever, you shake off the disconcerting thought. You've always been a very perceptive individual, you think proudly, although you taper the pride sensibly. Wouldn't do to get cocky.

You drag the cooler behind you, manoeuvring it up the stairs with surprising ease. It isn't as heavy as you thought it would be.

Someone is blocking the door to the roof when you get up to the top floor. "Kaz," you say in pleasant surprised, "you're early!" For once Kazushi isn't wearing his athletic gear, but is in a casual windbreaker and sweatpants. Never one for proper attire, you think wryly.

"What do you mean?" he asks, looking confused, "You said two o'clock, right?"

"Well, yeah, so people will start coming in after three to start help setting up the grill."

"But you said two."

"Yes, but," one look at his earnest face and you stop to chuckle, "Never mind, it's nice to have you here to help, big muscles and all."

He blushes and takes your cooler up without further words.

So simple a boy, you follow him with amusement and sympathy, he's going to get killed in university.

Junpei and Yukari are bickering about something on the roof, stopping to smile brightly at Kaz and you before returning to their playful banter. Well, playful at heart, really, you insist. You look around at the empty ground. "Where are," you wave at the vacancy, "the food, the grill, the table, the chairs, the glasses, the everything?"

"The food's by your feet," Yukari says, pointing to a heap piled just behind the door, barely a meter away from the entrance.

"And how should I know where the rest is?" Junpei says brazenly. Could they be any lazier?

"Kirijo-senpai would probably know," Yukari continues.

"Ms. Student Council President lives in our dorm?" Junpei asks, surpised.

Yukari meets your eyes and joins you in rolling your eyes. "Or maybe Sanada-senpai, I think the storage is by his room actually."

"In any case, we don't know," Junpei shrugs. The two of them make a rather formidable front when they unite, so maybe it's a good thing that they rarely do.

"I'll go talk to Akihiko-senpai then," you wave them off with long-suffering sigh.

"Wait," Yukari narrows her eyes, "who did you say?"

"Akihiko-senpai," you blink at her, "You just said his room—"

"I know what I said. How are you on first name basis with him?" Her eyes are bright like a bloodhound's at the scent of gossip, and you have a bad feeling when her smile unfurls in front of you, "I'll come with you to get it, I'm sure you need a hand."

You scoff but wait for her. You like having company, whenever possible, all the time. There isn't anything between you and the boxer, you just—well, you aren't sure why, but it seems that you naturally call him that. Isn't a big deal in any case, none of them here were sticklers for proper etiquette, except Ms. Student Council President. Although she is graduating, so the next president will probably be—

"Sanada-senpai!" Yukari knocks on the door with determination.

"A second," his voice answers gruffly from inside the room.

"Sanada-senpai," when the door swings open, Yukari asks relentlessly, "are you coming for the barbeque later?"

"Of course," he nods, his hair still wet and sticking in clumps, a gray shirt too thin for the February cold clinging to his damp skin. The pair of matching gray sweatpants that he slipped into isn't drawn properly, and the waistband, loosened by frequent usage and age, hung loosely around his hipbones, allowing a peak of the taunt muscles there. Akihiko is less brawny than your vision of a boxer, but he still fills out very nicely. Your tongue feels dry and stiff; you've always been a sucker for burly men of gentle and taciturn nature.

Before Yukari could say something inappropriate to intentionally embarrass you, you say, "Senpai, we're setting up the roof for it, and we're looking for the various cooking equipment and fixtures such as tables and chairs for accommodation. Somebody mentioned that it's in the storage somewhere, would you know about it?"

He nods again, "Hold on," he walks back to slip on his black jacket, steps into a pair of boat shoes (it's the sort of casual look that you would have picked out). "I'll come with you." He closes the door behind him with a click (you managed to give it a cursory once over, a tidy room that feels familiar, maybe because all the dorm rooms have similar structure?) "So," he casts a glance at you, "you uh, good with the coming exams?"

"Huh? Oh yes," you're caught by surprise at his easy friendliness—everybody had said that he's aloof, "I feel prepared, it shouldn't be very hard. And besides," you give him your signature cheery smile, "we don't face nearly as much pressure as you seniors do." You don't like studying, but you like studying in groups, which is more socializing than studying, and you think you'd like studying with Akihiko.

He seems relieved by your confidence, "Still, if you have any questions… I got pretty good grades last year."

You blush at his implicit invitation and wish that you hadn't just sold yourself so highly. Now you have to come up with hard questions in order to come bother him.

'He likes you,' Yukari mouths to you behind his back, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively like a cat in cream. You can barely keep back a groan and settle for just rolling your eyes. Secretly though, you are pleased and something in your chest feels vaguely stung, but a warm, tingly stung-ness that you resolve to examine more thoroughly once the day is over.

When Akihiko pulls open the storage door—it is almost stuck, but he tugs at it with a powerful thrust of his arm, and you bite back a sigh—the three of you are faced with a mountain of spare furniture and gears.

"Uh," Yukari says, looking at you then Akihiko then back at you with a small smile, "It looks like a lot of work, let me run up to get some of the guys to come down as well." Then she runs off, tilting her head towards Akihiko meaningfully.

You clear your throat. It doesn't take long to spot the grill in the back, so you propose, "Can we move the stuff in front, take up a few chairs and a long table, and then get that grill in the back? And then some cooking utensils from the kitchen downstairs?"

"Sounds like a solid plan," Akihiko agrees readily.

As you begin to work, Akihiko comments, "You're quite strong for a girl." Then he notices your slight hesitation in movement and he hastily follows with, "I mean that as a compliment. Of course, it's not like girls are weak, but pure muscle strength-wise, girls are, ah," he looks away and almost fumbles the stack of chairs he's carrying, "I just, I mean to compliment you."

You giggle, "Thank you, senpai."

"You can call me Akihiko if you want."

"Then thank you, Akihiko,"

He blushes all the way to his ears, and it's adorable.

When the both of you carry the dozen of chairs up to the roof, you find that most of the people have arrived. Yukari is, of course, chattering with Junpei and Kenji instead of informing anyone of the work. Mitsuru and Hidetoshi are engaged in some serious-looking talk, with Ken nodding gravely on the side. Kaz and Yuko are by the railing overlooking the view below, their backs turned so you can't tell if you're conversing or simply enjoying a quiet moment together. Even Kosuke is here, talking quietly to Fuuka, probably about the photography club. You shake your head, Kosuke will never win over Fuuka if he only keeps talking about pictures, not when Fuuka is so head over heels for—

You frown. For whom? Not that you would know, you aren't such close friends with Fuuka…

Right?

You try to put down this strange feeling that's been lingering over you this whole day like you put down the chairs, and approach Rio. "Hey, how's it going?"

"You need help setting up?"

You laugh. Trust Rio to be entirely pragmatic and supportive. "Yeah, a lot, actually. I'll talk to some of the others to help Akihiko with the grill stuff, but if you can come with me to the kitchen that'd be lovely."

"Of course."

So you round up the rest of the loitering group and assign them to Akihiko, and head to the bottom floor with Rio. "Seriously though," you ask again, "How are things? You know I'm not saying it as polite small talk."

"I'm good," Rio replies evasively. You know that Kenji is excited about the new female teacher coming next year, and not even through Junpei: it's all he's talking about these few days.

"You should be," you nod solemnly, hoping that she understands you.

And she probably does, because she smiles at you gratefully and says, "Actually, I wanted to catch you alone anyway."

You lift your brow, "Succumbed to my irresistible charm as well?"

She laughs and swats you playfully on the arm. It's not a gesture that she would have done a few months ago, and it's not a joke that she would have laughed at back then. You beam at her, proud of both your influence and her growth.

"I wanted to give you this," Rio fishes out a book from her coat pocket.

A volleyball manual. It's not something that you're interested much in, but you can imagine that it's meaningful to Rio, and that's what's important here. "Thank you," you say to her,

She smiles but is silent. Well, silent until you are in the kitchen. "Why is there a hat here?" she asks.

There is a hat, a black beanie that looks frayed around the edges from years of use. It sits in the middle of the counter, and although nobody in the dormitory cooks, it's still a strange place to put it. You reach for it to store it elsewhere, but your hand stops midair. It doesn't feel right to move it. There's something ritualistic about it. You involuntarily fidget with the watch on your wrist. It feels ominous, so you refuse to think about it. "Oh somebody just left it there, I think, best to leave it so they can find it easily. We need plenty of tongs and maybe some chopsticks, could you get the bowl of salad in the fridge?"

-.-.-

The aroma of heating meat permeates the air, and you close your eyes to inhale it. It takes a lot of work to correctly assemble a successful party, and you congratulate yourself by pouring yourself a full cup of nigori sake. It might not be wise to drink on an empty stomach, but whatever. Something stirs in the back of your mind, like a hundred things trying to burst through, each of them calling you. You push them back.

You look around at your merry band of misfits, filled to the brim with happiness that they look so happy.

-.-.-

You see Ken out of the corner of your eyes. He's standing alone by the drinks section, casting what he thinks are fugitive glances at you, aimlessly ignoring the people coming by for refills. He looks so lonely, you think, and it's a sentiment that you both understand and hate.

So you walk over to him, radiantly smiling as always, inviting him to join your good mood.

He doesn't join, instead begins to look even more nervous, picking at his cuff. You notice the chew marks at the edge of his cup. "Enjoyed the dinner?" you ask as a beginning.

"Yes, it is delicious," he answers, then suddenly looks up at you as if with newfound determination, "Um, I know we don't talk much, but, uh, I live in the same dorm as you…"

"I know," you chuckle, "I went to your room to invite you yesterday, remember?"

"Yes," he continues, flustered, "what I mean to say is that—are you going out with anyone?" he blurts out, his entire face a matching red with his cup.

"Oh, well, no," you start to tell him, "but—"

"Then maybe you should ask Akihiko-senpai out."

That is not what you expected. "Why?"

"He," if at all possible his blush deepened, "he looks at you sometimes when you aren't looking, like the way you look at him when he's not."

"Oh," you can only say.

"And I like you. I know you won't like me, a child, so until I grow up and have the ability to make you happy myself, I want you to be happy."

You smile at Ken. You know from Yukari that he's an orphan, and is perhaps trying to grow up too soon. This is a youthful infatuation, but you know it's not to be dismissed, for it is the sweetest and simplest of all romances, one that sits patiently in its own solitude, satisfied with being unrequited, without pride and without inhibitions. "Don't worry about me, I'm fairly good at being happy. Just don't forget about yourself, alright?"

He nods and asks, "Can you take a walk with me?"

"Of course! How about we go downstairs? I think the party needs more refreshments."

On the way down, he starts talking about memories of his mother, but you are bewildered by how easily this little boy is confiding his darkest, most secret thoughts to you. Or at least they should be secret thoughts. After twenty minutes listening to his musings, he takes your hand and pushes something cool inside.

You look down and see a silver key.

"It's from my old house, it's symbolic of the past that I want to return to but cannot."

That's… actually kind of profound. A little angsty perhaps, but the recognition isn't (shouldn't be) native to a ten-year-old.

"I want you to have it," he tells you, "because that's also symbolic."

You close your hand around both the key and his hand.

-.-.-

When you return with the last two bottles of your reservoir, you are approached by Fuuka this time. She follows you quietly as you open the bottles and pour yourself a new cup.

"Hey there," you raise your cup to her.

"Hi," she says timidly.

You wait.

"There's something that I want to give to you." She takes a deep breath, "I know you've never thought much of me—"

"That's not true, you know that," you interrupt her out of the habit of saying the right thing, but stop yourself. You frown—how do you know, with such certainty, what is exactly the right thing to say?

She breaks a small smile but still shakes her head, "It's alright, I understand. I am frail and you are strong; I'm frightened easily but you're brave; I can hardly cook although it's my favorite hobby but you are good at whatever you try to do." (Of course you are. It's all so natural to you, as if you have done it a hundred times.) "But that's not saying you are better, or I am worse—we're simply very different people, and someone like you admires your own characteristics. My shyness is a weaknesses to you, but they are not to me. I don't wish to be you, but I do wish that you would like me more, because I like you." She looks at you with such soul-baring vulnerability that you feel yourself melt. "And I do like you, very much, you are like the big sister that I never had, or the really cool aunt, or the childhood friend."

"Oh Fuuka," you coo as you take her hand in yours.

"Which is why I want to give you this," she pulls out something from the canvas bag still on her shoulders. A pair of noise cancelling Sennheiser headphones with white leather clad foldable headband and earpads.

"This is—" you start, but stop, because this is exactly what you wanted, "How did you know?"

"I asked around," Fuuka smiled shyly but firmly, "Everybody remembers what you say to them."

-.-.-

Maybe it's the end of the school year, but everything seems to happen so quickly. You get a letter from Bebe and Saori, see the journal from Maiko (from her creepy dad who asked you out), talk to the old couple about the persimmon tree, meet Akinari's mother (you miss his silver hair and smile and stupid pinstripe shirt, and it hurts, but it's a shared hurt), start up the tech club with Fuuka (you got Kenji to join by pure peer pressure), learn from Hidetoshi that he's leaving the Student Council (which leaves you the de facto president, which is annoying and gratifying in equal measures) and oh he's in love with you (bit of a trend there, you flick your hair), learns that the old geezer Mutatsu found his family, see Tanaka's disappearance on TV, but the BIG thing is that Akihiko texted you to meet him after school.

Where he kisses you.

Life is almost complete, you sigh.

-.-.-

The blond girl—Aigis, right?—living in your dorm is staring at you again. She never talks to you, or anybody else for that matter, but you flash her a bright smile anyway.

-.-.-

You spend the last weekend before Graduation with Junpei and Yukari. Even Akihiko can wait (you promised him the dinners, so you're still a good girlfriend.)

The three of you sit under the tree by the shrine, despite it still being too snippy, but you have a huge parka and friends around you.

There's still another year yet (even Junpei managed to graze the passing mark to rise to Senior Year), but somehow it feels like an ending. You decide to enjoy the languid poignancy instead of questioning it, fingering the phone strap that Yukari gave you. The blond Aigis is in the distance, barely disguising her presence behind a tree.

Oh, Akihiko is coming this way.

You barely move, half asleep as you are, but smile when Yukari moves aside so that Akihiko can squeeze in and you rest your head against his shoulder. He chuckles, a small puff of white breath coming out of his mouth, and you want to capture it, keep it in a jar by your bed, his breath always beside you. The winter day is short, but there is still a good two hours of daylight, and even in winter the shrine looks pretty. You're facing the spot of sun where Akinari used to sit, and you curl your hand in Akihiko's. Junpei is snoring lightly to your left, and you will yourself to kick him a little, but you're too tired for that. You feel yourself sliding lower against Akihiko, your ear almost at his chest now.

Life is complete in this moment.

-.-.-

It's all too good to last. So it doesn't.