"Akemi? Akemi!? Oi, open up!"
Leave me alone.
"Open the damn door!"
A jarring bang resonated within the bedroom walls. Something had thrown itself against the oak double door with vicious strength, the door rattled on its hinges.
"Akemi!"
I'm fine.
"If you don't open the blasted door this instance –"
Another bang sent the chaotic world furling inwards, trapping the diminutive figure in its centre. On the outskirt of bedlam, there was a loud crash and a set of feet scuttling towards her.
"Akemi –"
" – senpai?"
Blue eyes melted away to green.
Akemi flinched back, the hair on the back of her neck snapped straight in attention. Her ribcage could crack under pressure with how viciously her heart thrummed. Logic set in. As if sucked by an invisible hoover, the freckled face on the rim of her visions was swept behind heavily bolted doors.
She took a deep breath.
Sea brine, petrichor and smoky sandalwood coalesced and filled her senses. Footfalls of shrine visitors on the moist ground pulsated in her ears. Seagulls cried unseen, twigs creaked and leaves rustled. Somewhere an assiduous shrine worker was chasing dried leaves into a dustpan with a threadbare broom, its crooked bristles excoriating the ground.
The boy towered over her by a few critical centimetres.
Akemi blinked. His unkempt hair seemed to wave at her like tentacles. "Oh Kirihara-kun. Sorry, did you say something?"
"You were daydreaming." He tilted his head, boyish face scrunched in a scowl, gauging her expression. "Twice now. You didn't respond when I pulled you along when the queue moved." He nodded at something over her shoulder. "At least they don't seem to mind if there's a hold up."
Two families stood apart, preoccupied with the latest gossips and their screaming children. They wouldn't spare a glance if a group of high school students held hands and started dancing in circles.
Heaven forbids.
Akemi studied the ragtag group of shrine visitors. The Big Three stood in front of the offering box; Jackal and Marui waiting idly behind them; Niou and Yagyuu were exploring somewhere. The tiny shrine sat on a low rocky hill, where wild cedar trees flourished and the sea a stone's throw away. The woods acoustically muffled the sound of waves breaking on shore and the hum of afternoon traffic below the hill. Crepuscular rays cascaded through breaks in the clouded platinum sky.
Peaceful.
Kirihara's neighbourhood escaped last night's storm relatively unscathed… as opposed to where Akemi and Sanada lived.
She was forced to walk the remaining distance home – accompanied by a persistent Atobe – when they found a large tree blockading the Aston Martin. Her house, thankfully, was still in one piece with a roof attached. Though she wasn't looking forward to cleaning out the mucky garden later, despite being promised a larger otoshidama (bribe disguised as monetary gift).
"Stayed up late after Atobe-san's party?" Kirihara's voice broke through her thoughts, unknowingly reopening the door in her mind.
Like a persistent itch, the spectre haunted her every moment in sleep or awake. The more she ignored it, the painful and frustrating it grew. Giving it the satisfaction of a scratch could exacerbate the condition.
Spectre.
'That's right. Last night was just a figment of my imagination. A-a ghostly apparition from the past.'
Akemi was worn out, that's all… though she didn't linger to check. She'd bolted out the ballroom and locked herself in her bedroom. If Michael hadn't pulled out the master key fast, Atobe would've kicked the door down on reckless whim. Her heart shuddered remembering the wild look in his blue eyes.
And his skin was a frightening pallor.
"I couldn't sleep." Sticking to the truth was safer, she decided. "My whole body was tingling from the party, a hot bath couldn't calm the excitement. Umm… kind of like a post-match feeling, you know. Don't you feel strangely energetic after a good match?"
Kirihara scratched the back of his head, inevitably making his hair messier. He bobbed his head.
He bought it…
What a miracle child.
Jackal elbowed the first year on the ribs. "Give it a rest, Akaya. She could have given this a miss."
Akemi shrugged. "It's fine. Today's a special day, right? First shrine visit of the year is our club's tradition, after all. Just look at them," she waved towards their top brass who were in a deep discussion, "taking it seriously."
Arms casually folded behind his head, Marui glanced over his shoulder. "Actually, they do this every year."
"Club tradition. I know."
"That's not it. None of them can decide on prayers," refuted Jackal, politely. "They're confident with their own abilities to achieve their goals without a deity's intervention. Making a safety prayer defeats the purpose since it's… you know, New Year."
Incredulous, Akemi stepped around Marui. Five paces to the left and two paces up, she could hear their conversation. Her eyebrows rose and disappeared behind her fringe.
"We should ask for warmer days," Yanagi suggested. "The weather channel warned of an impending snowfall this week."
Yukimura grimly nodded. "Having club activities cancelled is troublesome."
"How about longer daylight hours?" Sanada asked.
"Good idea! School can save up a lot of money this year. We need funds –"
"I'm concerned for our club, guys," Akemi deadpanned. "They're all asking the impossible. Might as well ask Earth to leave its orbit." Those three were already in a league of their own.
Kirihara sighed irately. "You'd think they learn from the past. Here we are being respectful, letting our superiors go first, and what do we get for thanks?" he complained, shoving his cold hands in his jeans' pockets. He stormed up to a solemnly pensive Yanagi. "Senpai, you're taking too long. There's a line behind you. Please hurry up or we'll freeze to death. And Jackal's hungry."
"Oi!"
"Akaya, a half-hearted prayer is worse than neglecting your studies. Do you know what happens if you make a mistake?" Yanagi asked in a sage-like manner. The freshman shook his head. "You can make up for bad grades but a deity won't give you a chance to atone for your sins."
Akemi firmly planted herself in front of the terrified Kirihara, hands on hips. "Are you encouraging this boy to fail? I thought better of you."
"Not at all. It is my duty as an exemplary senior to give my junior sound advice."
"For the sake of your reputation, I hope what you've been doing up to now has been out of good conscience."
"Believe me, my conscience is pure as snow."
"Ha ha."
"This is your first ever visit to a shrine, right?" Yanagi asked, unperturbed by her misgivings.
That impromptu drop on Mount Oyama on her birthday wouldn't count.
"Get it right and you won't offend the deity." He cocked his head. "But you're not devoted to any religion. I suppose this all seem frivolous to you."
"Not really. Part of the reason I came because I was curious. I may not follow a certain faith but I do believe there's something out there." Akemi raised her eyes to the bleak sky. She had one very vague memory of joining mass in the local chapel as a pre-schooler. She shrugged and smiled at Yanagi; no doubt this information was stored in the vaults of his mind. "I don't let it govern my life. Simple as that."
"Interesting."
"More importantly, senpai, the line?"
"Seiichi."
The captain shared a look with his vice-captain. An unspoken agreement seemed to pass between them because Yukimura smiled in resignation. "Looks like we're driven into a corner yet again. I thought this year we'll definitely get it though. No worries. Let's move forward with our contingency prayer."
Sanada and Yanagi nodded.
"Contingency prayer?" Akemi echoed, as a piercing shriek of horror escaped Kirihara.
Yukimura's smile broadened, a conniving glint in his slate blue eyes that puzzled the girl and drained the colours from the freshman's face. "Don't worry, Akaya. We'll do better next time. I promise."
"That's what you said last year! And the year before! N-noooo!" Kirihara yelped when the three 5 yen coins were dropped into the offering box. "Please hear me out, buchou! Senpai! Akaya will be a good boy this year! Akaya won't shirk off cleaning duty! He'll finish his homework before the deadline, increase training tenfold, arrive class on time –" He flitted from one to the other in a desperate loop, flailing his arms.
Akemi turned away. "What did Yukimura-san mean by contingency?"
"We're just as clueless," Jackal admitted. "This started back when we were third years in junior high. Yukimura and the other two couldn't agree on a suitable prayer when Akaya stepped in and suggested they pray for him to get rich. Don't ask me how that was inspirational, but they have since used it as an emergency plan of sort."
Kirihara squeezed between Yanagi and Sanada, threw his coin and chanted a passionate counter-prayer under his breath. He stood on his ground steadfastly even after the Big Three swapped places with Akemi, Jackal and Marui.
To the manager, he was a wall of smouldering fire.
"Do you know how it works?" Marui quizzed.
The girl nodded, digging out the 5 yen coin from her coat. "Genichiro-san more or less explained the steps. Can I ring the bell?"
"Go ahead."
Marui and Jackal's coins hit the box's metal grate with a rattle. Akemi stared dubiously at hers for a moment before following suit, reached for the rope and pulled.
The Big Three observed from the shadow of a young cedar tree. Yanagi was drawing speculations from observing the tiniest twitch of facial muscles to the big giveaway taking the form of soundless moving lips. Kirihara was steadily turning blue in the face, the fire he lit spreading over to the doubles partners. Freshman aside, it was easy to guess what Marui and Jackal were praying for.
However.
Their Akemi was like a column of spring water running through a burning forest.
Intangible.
XXX
5th January, Monday
7:02 am
"Ah, there you are. Genichiro said we'll find you here."
Akemi brought the broom to a halt and lowered the chequered scarf from her mouth. A puff of white mist formed and vanished at her curved lips. "Yanagi-san. Yukimura-san. Good morning," she greeted the two standing at the clubroom's doorway.
"Good morning. Very cold in here." Yanagi noted the black pea coat with Rikkai's emblem emblazoned on the front. She was properly decked out in full winter uniform. "There's a thermostat for the heater over there."
"That's okay, I'm almost done. There's oolong tea and cups on the table. Help yourself."
"Thank you, Akemi-san," Yukimura said. "But really, leave the cleaning to the first years. They will complain about having no work. How are we going to explain that our hardworking manager had nicked their tasks?"
"I'm just sweeping the floor; it's gotten dusty over winter break," she stubbornly defended. "Don't worry. I've given the place a quick check. You know, how moulds flourish in winter?" She batted her eyes, lips streatched in a conniving grin.
"How cruel," Yukimura chuckled.
She gave a mocked curtsey. "I learn from the best. Anyway, have you seen the welcome-back gift the storm left on the courts?" The ground was covered in scores of debris and mud from the embankment, Sanada nearly lost it at the shambolic state. Thank goodness the nets and umpire chairs were stored away before break. Acquiring equipment through the student council was a tedious process "Club activities can't start until we clear up the mess."
"Rikkai doesn't have enough manpower to indulge in cleaning the whole campus on a holiday period. A lot of staff would have taken days off," Yanagi rationalised. "I trust this issue will be raised later at the assembly. The student council will definitely look into the matter."
"We'll make a plan." Yukimura furrowed his eyebrows into a disheartened frown. "Have we known it's this bad, a clean-up campaign could be easily organised over the weekend."
"Nah, I doubt the arrangement would please a lot of people," Akemi chuckled dryly, waving a hand. "The last few days of break are for savouring the freedom and bliss of waking up late."
Or faffing over neglected homework.
"Which reminds me," Yanagi arched an eyebrow, "I'm surprised you got out bed for morning practice."
"Black coffee. Super strong." To the point it almost knocked her off the dining chair. "I feel like I can take down the world with a flick of a finger."
"How many did you have?"
"Two big mugs."
"Ah… therein lies the problem."
What?
"You don't normally drink coffee, do you? Much less in large doses."
Akemi stared blankly.
"Do you have painkillers?"
XXX
Suppressing a groan, Akemi propped her chin on the desk and clutched her head in agony. Her head felt like it's wedged between two walls or stuck in a G-clamp.
She cursed.
Cursed Yanagi and his ambiguity.
Cursed the caffeine hacking her brain apart.
Cursed the blinding light from the windows.
Cursed the thunderous smack launching her heart to space and back.
Akemi shot straight up with a yelp of surprise. Her chair rocked perilously backwards for a heart-stopping moment before wobbling to a stop on its four legs. She went limp in her chair, sighing in relief.
A shadow fell over her form.
Saotome's greasy face peered down at her, taut with damning fury. He tapped a rolled-up notebook on one of his shoulders. "Don't feel at ease yet, Noda. May I ask what you were doing behind your book?" He passed a critical eye over her desk, and her history textbook standing opened on its base. Nothing detention worthy. His nostrils flared with obvious disappointment. "You scraped a pass in the last exam, but don't let that get into your head that a mere pass is acceptable in my books." Raising his voice, he let the next words rolled across the dead silent classroom. "All my students are expected to get 80% and above on everything I set."
Deep-seated resentment rose like bile in her throat. Acutely aware of her classmates' stares, she swallowed her pride and stood up for a bow. "I apologise for my inattentiveness, sensei. However it is beyond my control if a headache assaults me during class."
"Is that so?"
A hand went up.
It was Hinata Chitose. Class vice-president, her brave friend and glorious saviour. "Sensei! I can vouch for Akemi-san. She was starting to feel unwell during the previous class, but thought it'd pass." She winked at the grateful noirette behind the teacher's back.
After a few moments of deliberation, the history teacher grudgingly relented. "Fine. I'll let you off this time, but if I catch you not paying attention in my class, Noda, it's straight to the discipline master's office for you." He pointed the notebook towards the door. "Get the hall pass from Yagyuu and go to the nurse before my head explodes."
XXX
Akemi snorted. 'I hope he sends an invite the day his sorry excuse of a head explodes.'
She stomped down the stairs. Every cell of her body, crackling like electricity, fed on her rancour. By the time the infirmary was in sight, her energy was well-spent, tripling the headache. Cradling her head, she rapped her knuckle on the door twice. Years seemed to swim past the agitated girl as she waited for the assent.
The door creaked open and the smell of antiseptic greeted her olfactory receptors.
The nurse turned in her swivel chair. Her sharp blue eyes surveyed the restive student through a pair of rimless glasses. Everyone parading into her infirmary were subjected to her reproachful scowl, as if they'd committed something criminal. The look lingered on despite recognising her. "You're Noda Akemi of the boy's tennis club. First day and there's been a casualty? In fact, it's too early for club activities," she gave her wristwatch a cursory glance. "What can I do for you?"
It's not unusual to find a tennis club member occupying one of the beds in the infirmary; there's a spot reserved for Kirihara. Despite their protest, the manager accompanied them whenever duties permitted, she became a regular face. Her initial unease around the strict nurse wore off a long time ago
Or she thought.
Akemi chuckled sheepishly. "Actually, I'm here for painkillers."
Sakamoto gestured for her to take a seat and rummaged inside the medicine cabinet. "On your monthly? Let's see now… painkillers. Painkillers."
"No, it's a headache."
"How severe?"
"Umm… I almost tripped over a bin?"
Akemi was prescribed two caplets and sternly instructed to drink plenty of water in the future. After taking her class and student numbers, the nurse banished her to a bed to rest while waiting for the medicine to come into effect.
She plopped down heavily on her bottom, the springs groaning in protest. The mattress was a tad sunken in the middle from frequent usages. Glumly, she kicked off her indoor shoes. Blasted headache was holding any shred of euphoria at bay when she ought to be rejoicing at skipping history.
A thought crossed her mind. She glanced up. "Sakamoto-san, you're running first aid course this semester right? I'd love to join."
The nurse paused in the midst of drawing the curtains around her bed to look at her dubiously. "Much as I appreciate your enthusiasm, I'm afraid you have to wait until I put up the notice at the entrance hall. There's a limit to a number of students I can take in at a time. It's only fair and square on others to sign up with them. I hope you understand."
Akemi's heart sank. "Yes…"
XXX
The day couldn't get any worse. Losing a chance at catching a few precious winks peeved Akemi. English (her free period) came after History, then lunchbreak. Her brain had to resume function in front of the building's exit.
She was torn between turning back for the library and her bag at the classroom. The final chapter's draft awaited her behind this door, but also the chilly outdoors. She scowled in dismay. Why couldn't school be one colossal building?
Somewhere a bell went off, signalling the end of third period. She hastily threw on her coat, leaving the buttons undone, and pushed her way out.
A draught gusted through the gap, threatening to throw her back inside.
But Akemi was used to strong winds.
Sweeping hair out of her face, she stepped through the doorway. Outside, the air was serenely still and cold. Closing the door, she glanced around the deserted passage. It was an open-air, multistorey footbridge linking two blocks of building attached to the high school section of Rikkai, with views of the main gate and courtyard from the unglazed windows set in the walls. Despite herself, she peered through one and found herself gazing down from the first floor.
"Oh, Noda-kun?"
The voice startled her from her reverie. She turned around. A teacher; one she met a long time ago. At least, September felt like a long time ago. She folded her hands neatly in front of her and bowed at Inoue-sensei, Kirihara's English teacher.
"It's been a while." His smile exuded warmth, and Akemi was reminded of their first meeting. He'd struck her as a humble person with a good humour. The kind Saotome-sensei could never be. "You look fine and healthy. Heading back to class?"
She nodded. "To get my bag. It's English next."
"Ah, yes. You're exempted from English," he nodded. "One expects nothing less from someone who grew up in an English-speaking country. Oh! Speaking of which, I haven't expressed my gratitude to you. Dearest me! This memory relapse is a worrying trend."
Akemi could empathise. "Whatever for?"
"For tutoring Kirihara-kun, of course. That boy passed his exam last term."
Oh…
Akemi remembered. The freshman had burst into her classroom during break time; overwhelmed with emotions, he almost tore his test paper in half. That cinnamon roll. He'd bawled his eyes out in a roomful of flabbergasted seniors, and didn't give a hoot when the rest of the regulars poured in or Sanada rebuking him for disrupting the peace.
"I couldn't believe it myself at first," Inoue-sensei chuckled. "I had my wife double check my grading. As his teacher, naturally, I'm happy for him. He almost didn't graduate from junior high because of English."
She stared at him, stunned. This was news to her.
"But you know? That's the past. Kirihara-kun's making progress in class. Slow, but a positive sign. Student and tutor are two sides of the same coin. His result today is nothing short of tireless learning and perseverance from both of you. And here, I thank you for helping him get to this point."
"It's nothing really." Akemi squirmed, abashed by the praise. "Look at it this way, this won't happen if you didn't appoint me as a tutor. I-I'm sorry if I sound disrespectful." She should stop.
"Nonsense." Inoue-sensei shook his head, grinning broadly. "Hmm… I'll have a word with your homeroom teacher about the extra credit."
Her eyes lit up. "Eh? Do you mean it?"
"Changed your mind, didn't I?" he guffawed, shifting the books under his arm. "You earned it. Let's wait and see how young Kirihara does on his final term exam. That extra credit will be a reward, but see it as an encouragement too. Do your best, Noda-kun. I look forward to greater accomplishments."
"Leave it to me, sensei!"
Akemi bade goodbye and started towards her destination with a spring in her steps, suddenly bristling with energy. She was over the moon. All those despondent feeling vanished as if they never inflicted her in the first place. There was extra credit from the voluntary work at the science museum, and she's on the road to more!
Her heart soared at the thought.
A third year exited the stairwell just as she was about to open the door. They stared at each other at length, neither making a move to –
"Good morning, Murakami-senpai!" she chirped, leaving the flummoxed karate captain behind.
XXX
Arms crossed and jersey hanging from shoulders in his typical fashion, Yukimura regarded the assembly spread out in front of him. He was flanked by Sanada and Yanagi on each side; the other regulars took up the front row of the assembly.
It was a chilly afternoon, and many were shivering inside their tracksuits, straining to hear the captain's speech amidst the clattering teeth and shuddering breath. How they envied the manager's resilience, wished her radiant smile melted away the cold in their bones.
Akemi stood beside Sanada, dwarfed by his hulking form. For all intents and purposes, she had swapped her school uniform for gym wear (loaned from the sports committee). She was a burgundy dot in a sea of yellow, but that didn't faze her.
In fact, nothing seemed to faze her at all.
It was a mystery.
To the club.
To the regulars.
Especially to those who'd witnessed the savage telling-off from Inoue-sensei.
Niou, Yagyuu and two other classmates in the club. It took everyone by surprise when she appeared at the classroom door, grinning from ear to ear. She refused to answer questions. Couldn't be inveigled, coerced or reasoned into telling.
They gave up trying at one point. "Waste of breath," Niou had said.
"Before we commence the clean-up operation, we'll do a few laps to get our blood running," Yukimura announced. "Then break for ten minutes. Tasks will be divided equally regardless of precedence by the manager. Work hard because I expect the court and the vicinities spotless at the end of the day." The corner of his lips curled upwards in a slow and deliberate manner, turning the atmosphere freezing cold. "Am I understood?"
The assembly snapped into attention and chorused, "Osu!"
A feminine voice rang out. "Teamwork is vital in this operation. With that in mind, for any individual whole-heartedly involved in our campaign will be taking a bag of cookies home."
At Akemi's words, the temperature soared back and to a scorching centigrade. Whispers of excitement rolled across the assembly like waves.
Marui was starry-eyed. Earlier, there was no tutoring session since it's the first day of school. He'd tried to coax her into joining him and Kirihara at the patisserie without success. So this was what she'd been up to? He forgave her.
Beaming, Akemi glanced around the eager faces. She pumped a fist in the air. "Let's give it our all, everyone!"
"OSU!" Roars of accord resonated with greater vigour. More than half the assembly's fists were up.
"Cake! Cake! Cake!" the redhead chanted at the top of his lungs, much to Jackal's resigned exasperation.
The assembly dispersed, breaking the impeccable close-order formation Sanada demanded of them, to find space for stretching exercises.
Yanagi and Yukimura shared a look.
"She may have just bribed fifty of us with cake, Seiichi. Remarkable."
"She spoils us," Yukimura chuckled, amusement playing in his eyes, as the manager persuaded an extremely uncomfortable vice-captain to show her some stretch moves. "What are we going to do without her?"
XXX
Storm wreckages forced the club to use an alternate track. The section of footpath surrounding the courts' embankment was seldom used – they'd be in hot water for knocking down an innocent pedestrian – and longer, but nobody seemed to mind.
Cakes could do wonders to team morale.
Akemi was gleefully welcomed into their ranks as they lined up in front of the clubhouse. She took position behind a group of third years and wondered…
"Oh, how lovely ~ our manager graces us with her saintly presence."
… if this was the right decision.
She slid a humourless look to her left. "Marui-san… you're in high spirits today."
Belly furled inward, chest puffed out and arms folded over his front, the redhead was a picture of smug finesse. One must be forgiven should they mistake him for cosplaying Atobe Keigo. "Heh-heh! Running laps has always been a normal routine for us, sport folks. Try not to wear yourself out."
"Think twice before you goad her," Kirihara dully advised.
"Don't worry, Kirihara-kun." Akemi gave the redhead a thin smile. "I appreciate your concern. However… aren't you a fine one to talk?"
Marui raised an eyebrow.
At the whistle, the masses surged forward as one.
They rounded a corner.
Then another.
Sanada was tapping into his drill sergeant persona in earnest, his shouts boomed over the thundering feet.
"Megaphone."
Runners adjacent to Niou burst into hysterics – at the expense of precious oxygen. They dissolved into coughs and swore loudly as the snickering trickster zipped ahead with an obnoxious "Puri". It triggered a domino effect, starting off with one person breaking formation at incongruous intervals. Then in twos and threes, people were either falling behind or advancing.
Marui and Akemi were neither.
Their eyes met.
They were neck and neck.
Marui took stock of their progress. They were lagging behind some thirty figures; that's more than half the club! His stomach gave a disagreeing churn. He pushed on, wheezing in agony and fighting back the acidic tang threatening to rise. Urgh. He should've laid off the creamy ones.
Yanagi casually sidled into their midst. His face was smooth, lacking vestiges of exertion. "Akemi-san, I can make you a good offer," he said between breaths. "Beat Marui in his game and you won't drink Deluxe Ging'ale. However," a shadow fell across his features, "in the event you lose, the penalty remains effective whether you finished the lap within the time limit or not."
"What kind of offer is that!?"
Marui made a weird noise between a barking laugh and cough. "Akemi-chan, you're too naïve. You should've known what you got yourself into when you joined us for warmup."
"You're running 100 laps if you lose, Marui!" Sanada snapped.
"EHHHH!? What the hell did I do!?"
"Best of luck, you two," Yukimura smiled. "Oh, and Marui? You're looking a bit on the green side."
XXX
"He's properly crying, professor."
The rest of club were hard at work, clearing the rubbish from the tennis courts and dutifully ignoring his wails, as Marui ran his 5th lap around the footpath. The noise was attracting puzzled looks from nearby windows and clubs.
Yanagi lifted an eyebrow at her casual observation. "Are you pitying him? Seiichi's order is absolute, you know." The redhead had veered off course, hurled much of his lunch and afternoon snacks into a bush… provoking the captain.
Akemi shrugged. "He should've known better than run on a bloated stomach. What is he, a child?" She briefly reflected on her question and shook her head. "Anyway, what is 20 laps to guys like you?" Sanada had unwillingly cut down the number in light of the sick bout and clean-up.
"Point taken," he chuckled. "I'm surprised you completed the run within the time limit."
"… I'm assuming that's a compliment."
Marui sprinted past them, tearfully yelling "I'm sorry, Akemi-chan!" to a disconcerted manager, under strict orders to do so every lap. For that reason, she hadn't left her post in front of the clubhouse.
"Do you jog?"
"My house has a treadmill but I don't use it often. I get most of my exercise walking back and forth school anyway." The Ging'ale in the bottle Yanagi was packing away sloshed against its confinement. Akemi was unnerved at the idea that its close imitation of ginger ale's colouring didn't put her off. No way was she touching it though. "I hope whatever ingredients you use aren't life-threatening. I don't want the nurse, teachers, principal, school board, police and government officials after my neck. And don't let me start on parents."
"Rest assured, all my recipes use ordinary household food. You've seen how it revived Marui after a sip?"
Akemi narrowed her eyes. Marui was boastful, but he – no humans – deserved a taste of that lethal poison. "Yeah… he spent an hour lying comatose on his back when the rest recovered within five minutes."
"He's quite energetic now, no? We're not the only school making these heathy juices."
Healthy juices.
That's it.
She's so done.
Akemi pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. She turned sharply on her heels and clapped her hands once. Like well-trained troopers, first years dropped whatever they were doing, filed out the clubhouse (their clubroom was next to the entrance) and gathered in one neat row before her and Yanagi, backs straight as a board, waiting eagerly for their next set of instructions.
Yanagi smirked. She had her fingers wrapped around the younglings. He waited until the last freshman had descended on the courts before resuming conversation. "I heard you got into trouble this morning in history class."
'Again' hung in the air.
Akemi grimaced. "Headache."
He'd predicted as much.
Her gaze flickered to the closed clubhouse doors. She couldn't afford to be careless. "I don't understand," she said in a low voice. "I don't understand at all. I did my damn hardest on his exam and passed. It wasn't an A, but I passed, Yanagi-san! He gets work up over my grades because he knows I'm… hopeless at history." She blushed at the admittance.
"But you passed."
She spread out her hands, as if saying "There you have it", and whispered softly enough for him to hear. "If I had my way around school politics, he'll be clearing his desk before club activities ended. I have it up here –" she flipped an index finger skyward "– with his patronising attitude."
"Careful. You're plotting in front of a student council member." Yanagi's tone was flippant. He hummed pensively. "Why not arrange a group study session?"
"With you?" Akemi paused and averted her eyes sheepishly. "Sorry, I didn't mean it in a scathing way."
He chuckled. "We can invite a few others. How does this weekend sound?"
"It's an idea. Terrific, but… not this week – or the next."
"You have plans?"
"Yes."
More or less.
Whatever.
She had a final chapter to polish; next Saturday was the meeting with Aihara. On top of that, her parents booked a room at a hot spring resort in Hakone over this weekend. Coming-of-age Day was next Monday, and Atobe already bought tickets for a trip to Tokyo Tower.
Basically…
…she only had the weekdays to work on the draft. Not forgetting homework.
"A later date wouldn't hurt," Akemi smiled.
XXX
17th January, Saturday
Shibuya
In the end, the editor found the way she ended the story… inconclusive. He had left the restaurant in a hurry, briefcase swinging from one hand, for a conference in Osaka without so much as a goodbye.
Akemi took a brooding sip from her mug, the cappuccino's bitterness strengthening her dark mood. Aware that Yukimura was observing from out of the corner of his eyes, she schooled her features and held the manuscript as if holding a porcelain doll.
The first draft of her book.
Her creation… from prologue to finale, wire bounded with protective sleeves.
Leafing through the pages, she wished Aihara chose a different colour. Blue, pink. She could tolerate pink if every page didn't remind her of bloody test papers.
Ruthless under that deceptive gentility, captain and editor could be best friends in an alternate universe. A person who's used to getting his own ways. She appreciated his honest feedbacks, but Aihara wasn't fooling her and it vexed her that he thought her naïve. Well, he was very much mistaken. He was disgustingly polite about the obfuscatory ending, like a salesman pitching his product.
The ending he hankered in this case.
Having the White King invite the princess over to his kingdom, and ending the story with a short line, 'A new world full of promises awaits tomorrow' wasn't enough. He wanted it plain and obvious that a marriage or courtship appeared at the end. Stop beating around the bushes.
Watching Akemi scornfully eyeing the red annotations on the last page, Yukimura easily guessed what was on her mind. "While I don't fully disagree with you," he raised a hand just as she was about to retort, "think how many children will read your book. Aihara-san is right in the sense our young readers might not grasp allegory at their tender age."
"But children have potentials," she grounded.
"Do you want to confuse your readers?"
That caught her off guard.
"Put them in mind and you're on the right track."
He was right.
Much as she hated it.
They're both right.
XXX
Noontime Shibuya was alive with pedestrians, traffic and blaring advertisements from overhead televisions. A familiar throbbing pain surfaced in Akemi's skull, expanding to the areas behind her eyes. She pursed her lips, vaguely aware of Yukimura talking, but the words didn't reach her. Defeat and exhaustion shackled her ankles, dragging her down a dark pit her heavy feet religiously carved through the pavement.
She kept walking.
The words time and deadline swirled around her like a cloud of angry bees; a knife at her neck. Night after night, they worked her past midnight at her study desk, she practically lived on caffeine to stay alert.
She kept walking.
The strap dug painfully into her shoulder, manuscript heavy in her satchel and mind.
Akemi snuck a look out of the corner of her eyes and felt a stab of envy towards the captain. Only this morning, before leaving for the train station, he had completed the last in the series of water-colour paintings for the book. It sat on his canvas at home, but there was a photograph.
Her hands furled into fists.
Push comes to shove, an all-nighter seemed more and more likely. And frankly, she didn't care if he disapproved. To hell with health.
Yukimura abruptly stopped in his tracks, causing her to do the same. "Wait there. I'll grab something quick."
"Oh… okay."
Akemi watched him disappearing into a convenience store before moving to stand under the indicated tree. It was less crowded here.
True to his words, he came out moments later with a bottled water and box of painkillers. At her perplexed stare, he grinned wryly. "I'll let this one go since you're under the weather. Next time though, think before underestimating your captain."
Embarrassment dissolved to anger when pride made itself known. Her voice shook a little, otherwise she was able to calmly speak. "Do forgive for the trouble, oh great captain." She snatched the proffered items and started into a brisk walk. She fumbled with the medicine's packaging, almost ripping it apart in vexation. She vowed never to set foot out of the house without a pack in the future, regardless of the time of month.
Yukimura smoothly caught up with her before she even slowed down. Her strides were sluggish to begin with.
They walked in complete silence.
As the medicine came into effect, Akemi began to realise she had behaved unreasonably. He was putting up with her cantankerous mood without a breath of complaint. Her shrivelled conscience wilted inside. He was only looking after her. The least she could do…
Her hand had shot out to tug on his sleeve.
Yukimura raised a quizzical eyebrow.
She retracted her hand, as if electrocuted, and wrung her fingers together. "I… I just want to say, I'm sorry." She lowered her eyes ruefully. "I lost my temper back there; that was unfair. I didn't mean to take it out on you."
He stared at her with an unreadable expression.
Her heart fluttered nervously as the silence dragged on. She looked up, startled by the peal of warm laughter.
Yukimura's slate-blue eyes twinkled in a teasing manner. "I would be worried if you hadn't. Don't worry, okay? Let's enjoy our walk."
XXX
Second week of January and there were shop façades bursting with Valentine's Day décors, gifts and adverts. Giddy women and schoolgirls religiously flocked to them, their delirious murmurs carried up and down the street.
Akemi shifted her gaze to the captain. "Is it true that love is measured by chocolates?"
"That's one way of putting it," Yukimura chuckled. "Crazy isn't it?"
"Not as much as White Day, I suppose."
Having read segments of news coverage online in the past, she had a vague idea of the coveted tradition in Japan. Only girls gave gifts to boys on Valentine's Day, and expected the favour returned on White Day. That's about it really. She needed to remediate that. Despite her view on fanatic commercialisation, it'd wise to ride this current. Imagine broken hearts littering the tennis courts. No broom or hoover could clean up that mess.
And maybe… it might turn out fun.
She contemplated.
Asking Yukimura was like throwing herself to the lion's den.
The meandering walk through the streets was uneventful. For the most part, neither had anything in mind to buy. Yukimura suggested heading to a Yoyogi Park nearby. Akemi, bored as it was, agreed to the plan with a small shrug.
A chill ran down her spine, causing her to shudder.
The green man was thankfully lit at the traffic lights. They moved with other pedestrians, blending among the crowd in a blink of an eye. The unnerving sensation of being watched disappeared. She breathed a sigh of relief when they arrived at the opposite junction.
The respite was brief.
Akemi resisted the needling urge to glance over her shoulder, and strained to listen past her palpitating heartbeat.
A pair of feet; brisk and incongruous in a slow-moving crowd. There was something desperate about the movements.
Passing a convex mirror, she risked a swift glance at the reflection. Somewhere at the far back, a figure was winding through the crowd in a deliberate manner. She shot a furtive look of panic at Yukimura. Despite his composure, there was a hint of tension around his lower jaw. Sensing her gaze, he returned the gesture with a discreet nod while rattling on about the weather.
They kept walking.
A hand reached out and grabbed Akemi on the shoulder.
She retaliated without hesitation, reaching behind to seize the impertinent wrist, and scarcely registering the yelp. In a swirl of coat and dress, she had the offender down on one knee in an awkward elbow lock. This stalker was taller than his purported reflection.
She would've happily indulged in cliché lines…
The stalker's head twisted around.
…if she wasn't busy gawking at Joel.
XXX
Akemi bowed her head. "I'm really sorry for –" Almost breaking your arm "– attacking you without warning. I didn't know it was you."
"No, I should be the one apologising."
It took every ounce of willpower and pride to lift her eyes. Joel gave her a wavering smile.
Eight years.
Time had worn and chipped away the baby fats on his face, revealing a prominent nose and smooth jawline, and sculpted a lanky figure from the pint-size Joel of her memory. His green eyes held a rich intensity in their depths. One that radiated warmth, humility and intelligence; easily the most striking feature of his look. While Yukimura received constant admiration, she noticed a fair amount of surreptitious glances from adjacent tables were directed at the cute foreigner.
Akemi wouldn't recognise him in a huge crowd for the lack of antipathy that once sneered at her younger self.
But she did.
Something about him still screamed of the boy she once knew. It was like staring at a much, much more mature version of the bratty Joel Cuthbert –
No. He had introduced himself as Joel Forsyth to Yukimura earlier.
Akemi smelled a divorce.
"It's my fault for startling you like that." Joel chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Should've known better than walk up a Karateka's back. Err… you must be a black belt now. That right, Yukimura-san?" He looked to the captain for backup. They seemed to have struck up a congenial acquaintance on the way to the café, while Akemi was – to put it bluntly – panicking as she trailed behind them.
What had she done to deserve this?
Her hands were stubbornly folded underneath the table, resting on her lap where her coat spread decorously over her knees. Her tea sat in front of her, forlorn. She stared at the tendrils of steam rising from her cup, focusing on the swirling pattern to help ease the knot in her stomach. The tea house was boiling hot and perspiration prickled at her skin, doubling the discomfort. Glad to do something with her fidgety hands, she loosened the scarf around her neck, eavesdropping on their conversation.
Joel spoke Japanese.
This boy, who never showed a smidgeon of interest in her birth culture, spoke in her native language… albeit with the distinct gruff Scottish edge. Then again, she grew up as British as the next kid despite her heritage, and her curiosity emerged well after he left.
Akemi watched the amiable exchange bouncing back and forth the table, a frown of discombobulation forming on her brows. 'Why is Joel here in Japan? Why Shibuya of all places? More importantly, why must this happen with Yukimura-san present!? Which deity is in charge –'
"Ah, your tea is getting cold there."
Akemi stared blankly for a few moments. The shock of hearing him speak fluent Japanese was raw. She mustered a tiny smile, ignoring the stiffness gnawing her cheeks, and picked up her cup. "Thank you."
He slumped a little against his chair.
Was he relieved of her response?
"Yukimura-san has been telling me about your school." He perked up. "Sounds really neat. I wish the boarding school in Saitama isn't affiliated with school back home. Oh, have I forgotten to mention?" he asked at her gobsmacked expression.
Trepidation gripped her body, a gentle shove might snap every delicate muscles holding her frame together.
"I'm on an exchange program to improve my Japanese. Though I doubt one term will make big differences," he shrugged, "and the boarding school is populated mostly by children of British expats. But I can't say no to an offer when its handed on a plate." He scratched the base of his neck, as if abashed by the whole thing.
Akemi leaned forward, heart pounding rapidly when Yukimura raised the question she dreaded to ask.
"Oh I'll be gone in spring. Which sadly means I'm going to miss the cherry blossoms season." Joel heaved a morose sigh. "Alas, my mother wants me straight home for Easter."
Bless Mrs Cuthbert. Err… Mrs Forsyth. Was it appropriate to ask now?
Akemi blew the chance by hesitating.
Joel cleared his throat. "Anyway, you're part of the boy's tennis club, right? As a manager."
She blinked. "Yes."
"Heh… you two must be on good terms," he smiled, oblivious of their nonplussed expressions, "since you're on the same club."
Knowing what he's implying, Akemi resisted the urge to flee this joint; or hop on the first plane departing Japan. Maybe she should talk to Atobe about sending her to the moon, or out of this solar system preferably. Anywhere but here. This impromptu rendezvous outstretched its purpose the longer they stayed. After all, she had apologised with words, tea and cakes.
But damn her traitorous tongue.
"Yes." Before his imagination took him on a wild ride, she hastily added, "We're just friends."
"Oho!" Joel slapped his thigh, an iridescent spark in his eyes – and that's never a good sign. "I had a hunch, yes. The Atobe heir is your boyfriend!"
Akemi slammed the cup back on its saucer. It made a satisfying sharp clink, sending the unspoken message across.
Joel turned to a chuckling Yukimura. "Am I wrong?"
"I hope you're not."
'Traitor!' The captain merely returned her smouldering glower with a pleasant smile. 'How on earth did Joel arrive on this ludicrous notion?'
On second thought, she didn't want to bring up what happened on the first hours of New Year's Day – with or without Yukimura's presence. There was no phantom in the first place, now that she'd seen Joel in the flesh… why was he pretending it never happened?
Pushing aside the matter, she inhaled deeply. "Keigo-san is just a friend. End of discussion."
Joel looked unconvinced. His eyes harboured a small hint of… jealousy? Glee? Which was which? "I've heard of him. His very popular among the girls at the boarding school. There are pictures and videos of him everywhere on Hyotei's website. You wouldn't believe how they swoon over them; even the teachers!"
By website, Akemi was certain what they were ogling. She was once left alone with Atobe's laptop… with his blog shining in all its flashy glory. Unbelievable, that school. Hyotei had a dedicated blog for their beloved King.
"From what I've gathered, he's quite a character," Joel continued. "I'm surprised you're friends with him. He's really not your type, is he? I mean, they say he has an ego that outclasses even the worst personalities out there –"
"Seriously, Joel? Seriously?" a snarky voice interrupted.
The laughter died in his throat.
Fascination and bewilderment straddled Yukimura's countenance. He thought he'd seen her at her angriest, but this…
Akemi regarded a flustered Joel coldly. Sparks seemed to arc and crackle along her fair skin, and her eyes… they were the treacherous ocean. "You're one to judge. I don't mean to gloat, but have you understood him on a personal level instead of relying on some rubbish gossips and rumours, you'll find him a decent man."
Unlike you.
"Now if you'll excuse me, gentlemen, the bathroom calls."
The legs of her chair scraped the floor as she rose to her feet. Casually dusting down her navy dress, she snuck a curious glance at Joel and felt satisfaction washed over her seeing the guilt written over his freckled face. She turned sharply on her heels and marched away from their stares and the gawking girls.
Her head held high.
XXX
Their hushed conversation ceased upon noticing Akemi. She stood awkwardly between two spiralling ornate plants, hesitating. Did Joel launch into a sad recount of their childhood? Snivel over his mistakes?
Yukimura broke into a grin. "Welcome back. Ready to go?"
Her eyes flickered to the stale cheesecake and stone cold tea – calculating how they cost her allowance – then back to him. "Sure."
"I'll see you two off at the station," Joel blurted.
"We don't want to trouble you."
"It's fine. Let's go," Akemi curtly said, already grabbing her satchel from her chair. She waited outside the tea house for them to catch up, and wordlessly let them lead the way while she trudged behind. She was exhausted and needed space to think. Plenty of time to think and rethink her actions on the long journey back to the congested streets near Shibuya Station.
Simple.
1… Joel insulted Atobe.
2… She didn't take it too kindly.
3… She overreacted but with a perfect reason. See point number one.
Akemi broke away from her thoughts and rejoiced at the sight of the train station up ahead.
Outside the entrance, Joel turned around and asked, "Can I have a few words with you?"
The girl looked to Yukimura. She wasn't seeking permission. She wanted help.
What would a gentleman do?
He smiled and, hands in pockets, strolled away to stand in a distance.
Priority changed.
She wanted the captain dead.
"Yukimura-san is a nice person."
"Oh yeah. He is. Nice."
Joel chuckled uneasily at her acerbic tone.
Seething, Akemi glanced over him. With a flicker of mild irritation, she craned her neck for a clearer view of his freckled face. He was about Yanagi's height; perhaps taller. She regarded the nervous brunette, as if inspecting an inscrutable riddle. Where did the boy who used to boss her around go?
Joel lowered his head in remorse. "I'm really sorry for offending you back there. I didn't mean to speak unfavourably about Atobe. I just –" he broke off with an irate sigh, raking a hand through his chocolate hair. "I never learn to think before I speak." She used to tell him that when he crossed the line. He glanced at her, a dismal smile tugging at his lips. "It was noble of you to defend Atobe."
"I don't do it make myself look good," she snarled, livid with herself. She nearly forgave him. Throwing a look of disgust, she turned around and was promptly held back by her wrist. Out of the corner of her eyes, a grim looking Yukimura made a move to interfere.
Joel reverted to English. "I didn't mean it like that. Cammy, please. Listen to me –"
"Don't call me that!" she snapped. "My name is Akemi."
My name is Akemi.
She pulled her wrist free and stepped back a few paces. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed her features and spoke softly. "Look at me carefully. I'm no longer that helpless girl you once pushed around." He cringed and shuffled his feet. Strangely, her heart went out to him. "Things have changed, Joel. Cammy is long gone. I'm nobody's plaything."
"I-I've changed too! Really I have!"
Right.
She lived in a soap opera.
She sighed wearily. "If you're truly sorry for what you've done, then please stop using that name." It brought too much bad memories.
Joel bridged the gap between with one determined stride, clutching her hands to his chest. "R-really? You'll forgive me if I do?" he grinned, face glowing with rekindled hope.
"I-I can't say."
"Then I'll prove it to you," he resolved. "Come to Saitama, I'll show you around. I know this pub that serves fantastic Sunday roast."
"If we see each other again," she blurted, not really understanding what's going on or why her face was growing hot. "Please, my hands?"
They were promptly let go with an apologetic look.
Akemi wheeled around, fiddling with her satchel's strap, and refused to meet Yukimura's gaze. She numbly waved a hand towards the station's entrance. "Let's go, Yukimura-san. I'm so hungry, I could eat a whole cow."
"So is that a yes?" Joel asked.
"Yeah, whatever."
Akemi was tempting fate, but she was ten times more desperate to get on a train home.
XXX
Something was misplaced.
Akemi tossed and turned in bed, struggling to figure out what. She had a hunch Yukimura hinted at something… vital on the train; she waved him off citing enervation, when in fact she didn't want to talk about Joel, or anything for that matter.
She scowled at her clock. 4 am. She was supposed to meet Atobe at 9:00 am for breakfast. Groaning, she flopped onto her side, closed her eyes and waited for sleep to wrap her around in its comforting arms.
It hit her like a bullet train.
Fast.
Merciless.
Screaming towards her, snatching away the arms.
Akemi sat up in bed, wide eyes blinking in the dark.
She had agreed to a date…
Whelp, this took longer than expected to write. Too many distractions. I can't say when I can start on the next chapter, as I'm currently busy with university application. But don't worry, I have everything mapped out. Do check my tumblr blog for updates! I realised that this website automatically changes external links to a user's FFnet profile. Look for Suzumehim02 on tumblr.
Thank you for the support. Feel free to drop reviews, suggestions or tell me who you want Akemi end up with. I'd like to know why too :)
See y'all next chapter!