Author's Note: Lights, camera, action! Pretty long chapter ahead featuring the Emperor and the Gentleman.
Recap: Niou successfully (?) slips past the new dress code. Ono mopes and schemes during her birthday.
Trap 6
An Eye for a Head, A Tooth for the Entire Human Body
In her sixteen years of existence, there were only two instances when Ono was rendered so helpless that she literally bawled her eyes out.
One, it was when Sachiko, a gorgeous golden retriever her godmother got her for Christmas, lay lifeless on the porch of their home one April afternoon. They suspected poor Sachiko died of heat stroke, and Ono had been ready to move on with her life as a spoiled kindergartner, frolicking around in tutu skirts and playing make-believes, if they hadn't seen the bitten dark chocolate bar buried underneath the sea of dog biscuits in Sachiko's bowl. It was Ono's chocolate bar—the unsweetened chocolate bar peppered with blasphemous raisins and nuts she threw away in disgust the previous night. (1) Sachiko, how could she?! That stupid, gluttonous b—there was a reason why the leftover chocolate was on the floor, smooshed by her furry magenta boots! (Never mind that she was a dog, and dogs had no cerebral function to distinguish what to eat and not to eat). Completely consumed by guilt, five-year-old Ono had holed up in her room, crying, and unknowingly missed the nikujaga her mother cooked for dinner. It was her favorite. (2)
Two, it was the spring of her second year in Junior High. A bunch of upperclassmen had botched up her school uniform as she swam laps during P.E. class, all because the star-player of the Basketball team had asked her out to the Star Festival, which she had turned down with no reservations. She stood her ground—she'd had her fair share of bullying since elementary that the sight of her tattered uniform when she returned to the locker rooms merely elicited a long, exasperated sigh, to the disappointment of the perpetrators. The day of the Star Festival was her thirteenth birthday, and she promised to enjoy the festivities with her father. But on his way back home from one of his shows, he was ploughed down by an SUV in one of the streets in suburban Tokyo. God, it was like the world stopped spinning when the police officers told them about what happened. It was a hit-and-run. She cried a river.
If she had to be completely honest, the current situation was as close to a third as it was going to get, with several factors coming into play. Having convinced herself that it must have been the dysmenorrhea kicking in, compounded with the stress of the upcoming exams and WASC accreditation visit, Ono allowed herself a few moments to regress as she remained sprawled on her bedroom floor, the tears threatening to stream down her face. Her room was a sight to behold—her bed unmade, bags overturned and various items littering the carpet.
She rolled on her side, writhed like a worm for a few seconds, then buried her nose on the floor.
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Ono Sakurako's planner was nowhere to be found.
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Before passing on hasty judgments, one has to understand that the pink moleskin planner—which cost two months' worth of her allowance—she rewarded herself with after getting into Rikkaidai was imperative for one Ono Sakurako to function. It was not a diary, per se, and maybe she was being wee melodramatic, but blood and sweat were poured into every page (as well as every possible color of sticky note brandishing her loopy cursive in equally colorful ink). An entire semester's worth of schedule was in that planner—she had invested so much time, effort, and ink—and without a full-fledged itinerary of everything she had to accomplish—and boy, did she have a lot to accomplish in so little time—it was as if she had lost her arm.
More important were the secret memorabilia inserted in the pockets of the cover: polaroids of her friends, receipts from dinner dates, and buttons she received from the boys of previous middle school, to name a few. They possess irreplaceable value, a solid reminder that she was not a mere passing entity on this planet earth, but a person who was acknowledged and loved. Those potpourri boosted her morale, her life source during awful days (such as these), unlike her lost to-do lists, albeit important, which can easily be accounted for.
Ono thrived in her schedules, but she breathed those tokens.
So imagine her state of desperation when she realized that the planner, which she always made sure was secured in the front compartment of her backpack, was missing. She was at the doorstep of Café Bon at precisely 7AM (when it opened) the next day, and after a futile interrogation of the waiters and manager for the lost item, she immediately turned to her MacBook to scrounge her library for personal archives of all thirty hundred students of Rikkai Dai Fuzoku. She scrolled down, looking for one particular folder that would stopper her bursting anxiety.
Class I-C Male - Student Number 14 - Niou Masaharu
She dialed the number.
"Hello?"
"Niou-kun, it's Ono."
There was a pause in the other line.
"Niou-kun." Her voice was shaking. "I left my planner on the table last night, came back to the café to look for it, but it wasn't there. I asked around. Nobody else saw it. I swear to god if this is another one of your tricks, nothing will stop me from using both stilettos to crush your balls. I'd stomp on them so hard, and squish them like grapes that you won't be able to run around for the tennis ball for days, much less walk—"
"Ono-senpai."
She stilled, catching herself. In her anguish, she had completely lost control of her emotions. In that split second of self-awareness, she had also realized that something was not right.
"I'm sorry…"
Aha.
"…but it appears you have the wrong number…"
What.
"…This is Yagyuu Hiroshi of Class I-A…"
Oh my god.
"…I would like to apologize for any sort of distress Niou-kun has caused you…"
Oh my fucking god.
"...If you'd prefer, I can, uh, pass on your…message…"
She felt like hurling her phone at the opposite wall. Punching a hole on the floor. Committing bloody murder.
"…or would you prefer I give you his number instead?"
Ono Sakurako would not cry.
Especially over a freshman boy like Niou.
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Her alarm clock beeped in the quiet, and it read 『 5:00 A.M. 』
She sat up from her position on the floor, and headed straight for the bathroom.
There was no way she could have typed down the wrong information under Niou's name, not when Yagyuu Hiroshi was a student of Class I-A, and it would have made more sense if she had interchanged Niou's number with a classmate. She always double-checked and verified all data she input in her stocked files, which would mean that Niou had purposely duped the Student Council.
She pressed her forehead against the tiles of her shower, fervently wishing that the lukewarm water could just wash away all her troubles.
Sanada Genichirou could feel his bowels churning.
It was a week before the District Preliminaries, and despite the onslaught of problems the Tennis Club had to face the past week, they have risen above their situation. It was to be expected—they will not be pulled down by trivial matters. Albeit the shortened practice periods, training proceeded swimmingly. More so, unlike their last year of Junior High, Sanada didn't have the burden of leading the Tennis Team to the Nationals as vice-captain, as well as having to deal with trouble in the form of one Kirihara Akaya. So in reality, his stress should not be skyrocketing to alarming levels.
There was the issue of Renji attempting to include a special juice mix into their training regimen, however, possibly influenced by Seigaku's Inui (and Sanada becoming the unwilling guinea pig to sample his first few mixes, by virtue of their close friendship as well as his impeccable mental grit), which was a way to address their shortened practice hours, Sanada supposed. It appeared Renji was driven to a corner that he resorted to such desperate measures to prepare the team. But these were small matters—there were physiological responses he could rely on that would rid him of any toxic substance found in the drink.
Right?
It was all in the mind, and Sanada being Sanada, whose fortitude was an impenetrable fortress, would not be unfazed by such small matters.
As he stood patiently outside the cubicle in one of the outdoor restrooms, he couldn't help but recall a certain conversation that was also partly responsible for his condition.
"Niou won't be attending practice for the rest of the week because of detention," Yagyuu informed the rest of the team during morning practice.
"He's got a week's worth of detention?" Marui whistled.
"I was informed unless he dyes his hair back, he's banned from tennis practice."
My mind is an impenetrable fortress.
It was only a matter of willpower that he was able to resist from marching all the way to the faculty room, where Niou was apparently serving hours of his detention and smack him upside down. For the life of him, Sanada couldn't understand why Niou was being so pigheaded about keeping his current color, as if to dye it black would render him impotent. Whatever his reasons, Sanada would not stand for such impertinence, especially if it would jeopardize Niou's tennis.
To have Niou get kicked out of the tennis team would mean that the Three Demons have become failures for mentors, and Sanada would have none of that.
His eyes fluttered open.
All the cubicles were still closed. A quick glance at his wristwatch told him that over ten minutes have passed. He pushed each door to confirm, but they would not budge. No matter, patience was one of his greatest virtues. Another five minutes passed, and then he finally knocked on the doors.
There was no response.
He bent down for a quick peek, and lo and behold, a pair of feet were firmly planted on the tiles.
"Aa, I apologize," he said quickly.
"Genichirou."
He looked up, and saw Yukimura regarding him, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed in concern. The running water was the only thing that could be heard in the silence that followed as Sanada carefully pushed himself off the floor and got on his feet, ignoring his friend's pointed but wordless demand for an explanation.
"Nature calls," was his only explanation. His bowels was a roaring dragon that was taking every ounce of his willpower to tame. "I have to go. See you, Seiichi."
He had never brisk-walked as quickly in his life, and it was only thanks to his years of mental training that he could keep himself from dashing through the courtyard, the lobby, and straight into the nearest boys' restroom. A classmate greeted him amiably when he entered, but he ignored him and made a beeline for the cubicles which were all occupied as well.
"Are you alright, Sanada?"
It was not Sanada's character to pin the blame on someone, even if the most reasonable culprit was Renji who should have known better than to adopt Inui's illogical methods. Or the unidentified students who were taking eons to do their business. But he could never fault Renji, not when he only always had the best intentions for the team, as well as the students who were only satisfying biological needs as human beings. There was no way Sanada could blame them for his unfortunate happenstance—it was immature and totally unbecoming of a dignified individual.
He could only take responsibility for not having enough strength to resist the urge.
If Akaya managed to fight his inner demons, Sanada would not be beaten. More importantly, it was only a few minutes before the homeroom bell rang, and he was never late.
To give up without a fight would dishonor a warrior's code—if he had to get through this ordeal by sheer willpower, then he must try.
Five minutes later, Sanada was in his seat, looking as dignified and calm as possible despite the current shitstorm that was his bowels. Sitting had only made things worse (3), but at this point, homeroom had begun and the only thing he could do was distract himself.
Lao Tzu said, "Whatever is fluid, soft, and yielding will overcome whatever is rigid and hard. What is soft is strong." Your mind is fluid, soft, and yielding, Genichirou.
At the back of his mind, a tiny voice had whispered, So is your…
He could feel his muscles straining.
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『 9:30 A.M. – Morning rounds 』
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Ono was on edge.
The hullabaloo with her planner had gotten her on the wrong foot that Monday morning, and she's been functioning on a lot of nervous energy ever since she got to school. She had intended to confront Niou before homeroom started to demand for the whereabouts of her planner, but one of the level coordinators, who had been in the middle of nitpicking students for their proper school uniform, had pulled her aside to ask whether she had prepared everything for the tour and the afternoon presentation, to which she replied with a reassuring smile,
"You have nothing to worry about, sensei. I've got everything under control."
Rikkai was on its toes. The faculty members were on the hunt for students who were not in their proper school uniforms and were exhibiting improper behavior. When she saw Sonoda about to walk himself to a wall after Masafumi-sensei had given his final instructions, Ono figured she needed to pull herself together lest Sonoda would unknowingly bury the entire Student Council in a hole if he didn't get over himself.
Planner or no planner, it didn't take much for her to return to bossing people around.
A reminder was sent to all club presidents regarding preparations for the tour. The school caretakers were asked to make sure all walkways were cleared of any debris and all hallways were spic and span before the guests arrived. With the help of the broadcasting club, both the students and faculty were reminded to exhibit their best behavior when the visitors would conduct their door-to-door visits—no horse-playing, no running, no foul-mouthing, and absolutely no slacking-off.
So it came as somewhat of a surprise to Ono when she encountered a group of freshmen huddled in the corner of the hallway a few minutes after the homeroom bell rang.
"Shit, he's heavy."
"What the fuck does the tennis club eat, anyway?"
"What happened?" she asked, her eyes pinned on the unconscious student supported by two other freshmen. He looked familiar. Both freshmen had momentarily stared at her wide-eyed, as she wordlessly pressed her palm against the sick freshman's forehead to check his temperature.
"A-ah, he doesn't have a fever or anything, senpai," one of them clarified. "But he did faint in class."
"It must be exhaustion from tennis practice. The tournaments are coming up, after all. I hear their training's crazier than usual."
Ono schooled her expression into that of a look of concern as she wiped the beads of sweat trickling down his face with her handkerchief. "He's sweating a lot. Let's get him to the infirmary. I'll go ahead and inform the nurse."
She made haste and rushed to the infirmary, where she was greeted by a line of girls waiting outside the adjacent girl's bathroom. They were a mixture of freshmen and junior girls, which made her wonder what prompted her fellow juniors to cross floors when they had bathrooms conveniently located near the classrooms.
"Ako! Are the accreditors here?" One of her classmates called out when she saw her approach.
"They'll arrive in the afternoon." Ono smiled, then assessed the long line, her question left hanging in the air.
"If you're wondering," her classmate started, frowning. "The second floor bathroom is currently unavailable."
"Unavailable?" Ono's eyebrows rose. "You can't get in the bathrooms? Are there barricades?"
"No, no barricades." She shook her head. "It's just that the people are taking forever to do their business. It must have been something they ate this morning," she pleasantly laughed off, and then her attention was diverted to the group which had trailed after Ono. "O-oh no! Is that Sanada-kun? What happened to him?"
She wasn't the only one who noticed him, unfortunately. The rest of the girls in line had suddenly taken an interest at such an unexpected happening that a couple of them had taken out their cellphones and started snapping photos of Sanada. After nicely telling the other girls off for taking photos and assisting poor Sanada to the infirmary, all thoughts about the odd happening were pushed to the back of her mind.
She had more important matters to attend to.
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『 11:00 A.M. – Final preparations 』
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By the end of third period, news that Sanada fainted in his seat like a wilting daisy spread like wildfire across year levels. While the rest of the student body was preoccupied with this update, Ono was undeterred by the gossip and made several rounds around campus, making sure that everything was set before the WASC accreditors arrived.
Ono leaned over an open window in one of the first floor hallways and simply watched the groups of students enjoying their bentos in the courtyard. Her previously syncopated heartbeat had decelerated to a more regular rhythm, her lungs filling with fresh air as she finally took the time to pause, to slow down, to breathe.
Everything was going according to plan.
From the corner of her eye, she watched a freshman step out of one of the conference rooms in the hall. She tilted her head towards his general direction, and waited to be addressed; she wasn't disappointed.
"The conference hall is all set, senpai."
"Thank you," Ono was quick to plaster on a smile as she took in his appearance: a tall brunet donning a pair of eyeglasses. There was a pause as she second-guessed her next course of action. "You're Yagyuu Hiroshi of I-A?"
Yagyuu merely smiled in confirmation. It was an empathic smile, which as usual did not sit well with her. "Were you able to talk Niou-kun?"
At the mention of Niou, Ono had to exert effort to keep her smile in place. "No." A calculated sigh, as if to let him know the troubles she had to go through because of the said boy. "I dropped by his room earlier, but he wasn't there."
There was something different in Yagyuu's smile that piqued her interest. "He has detention for violating the dress code."
"Even during lunchtime?"
"It appears Masafumi-sensei is intent on keeping him away from sight for as long as we have visitors here."
"I see," was all she said, an odd sense of gratification welling up in her chest upon hearing the news. However, she was nonchalant in saying, "I've been asking around for him, but no one could tell me where he was."
"You appear to have asked the wrong people, unfortunately."
"That's true," Ono conceded, her smile still intact. "You seem to be very close to Niou-kun, Yagyuu-kun."
"That's to be expected, senpai." He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "We are partners, after all."
"Of course."
Their conversation lulled into an awkward silence as Ono racked her brain. How was she going to save her tarnished image in Yagyuu's eyes? Unlike Niou whose reputation as a Trickster immediately subjected everything that came out of his mouth to further evaluation, and in turn, invalidation if proven bullshit, Yagyuu Hiroshi was a well-respected member of the Rikkai community whose words had power to plant seeds of doubt.
"Listen, about the phone call…" She tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, her expression softening into something sheepish. She also let her gaze stray from Yagyuu to her shoes, in an attempt to look awkward. Looking up, she noted that she seemed to have gotten his full attention, as well as her desired reaction: charmed. Good. "I apologize for sounding so… uncouth. In the phone. Last Sunday? You know how people tend to say stupid things when under a lot of stress. The thing with the stilettos, well, that was totally uncalled for," she elaborated, making sure she looked like she had never hurt a fly in her life, much less inflict pain on an actual human being . "I mean I never meant any of it."
Yagyuu only smiled as she rambled on.
"I would never do something like that," she breathed, slowly looking up and batting her eyelashes, one, two, three times more than usual.
"Of course. It would be very unlike you to resort to violence over such a small thing," was Yagyuu's quick affirmation, which prompted Ono to smile only wider. "But I won't put it past you if you did."
The corner of Ono's mouth twitched downward almost imperceptibly, but she hid it by asking, "What do you mean?"
"Human behavior," he started, pushing his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "…is a peculiar but interesting thing. Most people are fond of embracing the idea that there is an unbridgeable spasm between good and evil. But there's a flaw in that logic because we are dynamic creatures." He paused, smiling softly. "There are instances, powerful situational forces that push us to do things we never imagined we'll ever do." (4)
A dozen thoughts crossed Ono's mind as she watched him with heightened interest. All of a sudden, Yagyuu's presence was ominous. "And you think it is justifiable that I would act… brutishly… given the situation?"
"I speak hypothetically, of course," Yagyuu tugged at his collar. "But personally I would prefer if senpai can spare my partner since the tournaments are coming up, and I would really like for us to have a shot to represent the team in the Nationals." He smiled gently. "I hope I didn't speak out of turn or anything."
Just then a gaggle of freshmen poured out from the nearby classroom, and one of them in her haste bumped into Yagyuu, who was standing near the doors, and spilt her orange juice on his uniform. The next few moments was a scuffle of movements, with the girl profusely apologizing to Yagyuu who was busy wiping the stain on his polo with the handkerchief Ono had been quick to offer. After managing to convince the girl that it was fine, Yagyuu had excused himself from the crowd to go tidy himself up in the washroom. He had been ill at ease when Ono closed the distance between them and attempted to help him with the mess, but she did not think too much about it.
After Yagyuu's departure, thoughts about him and Niou were momentarily swept under the rug. She noticed the sudden heightened energy in the halls. Even the freshmen eating their lunch in the courtyard were on their feet and were headed towards the direction of the school gates, the seeming epicenter of brewing trouble. Imaginary alarms had been set off in her head when a stream of other students trailed behind, their faces jubilant.
"Have you seen it?"
"Fukuda said it looked something out of a horror movie!"
"Come on, hurry up!"
She felt her cellphone vibrating in her pocket as she rushed to where everybody else was headed.
"Uran, what's happening?" She pressed her cellphone against her ear, straining to hear her friend's voice.
"Have you seen the fountains?"
"No." Ono hastened her pace as more students walked past her and were apparently headed to the courtyards as well. "Should I be worried?"
"See it for yourself. Gods, Furuki-senpai is going to lose his shit once he finds out. He's worked so hard to get the money for those."
A large group of students had already crowded the pathways leading to the fountains. Her expression was of muted anticipation as she walked with her head held high—she was well aware that everyone's attention was momentarily diverted to her. The rest of the students were quick to give way until she stopped right in front of the fountain. The tension in the air was heavy, almost palpable as everyone gathered in the area turned quiet upon her arrival.
The water in the fountain was blood red, with spurts falling in arcs from the vase held by a beautiful female angel with impressive wings. She watched the water fall onto the surface, where a decapitated mannequin covered in red ink was floating in circles, and the rest of its limbs bobbing up and down as the pressure of the cascading water splattered upon them. (5)
"It's food coloring," a student piped in, torn between looking disturbed and amused. "Halloween came early in Rikkai eh, Ono-san?"
"It looks gruesome," a girl squeaked, while taking photos of the scene. "Reminds me so much of a murder scene."
"Who would do something like this?"
Her phone brought her out of her momentary stupor, and she could once again feel her heartbeat ramming haphazardly against her chest as she pressed the phone against her ear, dreading. "Sonoda-senpai."
"They're here."
Ono closed her eyes and counted to ten, willing her breathing to become slow and even.
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『 12:00 NN – Arrival of the WASC Accreditors 』
『 12:30 PM – Campus Tour 』
『 2:00 PM – Meeting 』
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What happened next was a blur, and this was saying something, especially for Ono who had an almost obsessive attention to the littlest detail. But in that moment between flying to the gates to be part of the welcoming entourage for the accreditors, dealing with all the unexpected shit that suddenly decided to plop down on her from god knows where, and digging herself a hole and lying in there until everything comes to pass, she had come to realize how close she was from exploding into a fit of rage and burning the school down.
It was a struggle to stop herself from snapping at the incompetence of the committee members.
As if fate hasn't had enough, she had also learned that the water in the swimming pools was also dyed an awful blood red that swimming classes had to be postponed, a heinous odor resembling that of a rotting corpse wafted throughout the hallways and seemed to come heavily from one of the air vents in the cafeteria, and a recording of a hair-raising struggle of a girl being chopped into pieces was played on loop, her disembodied screams resonating all throughout campus. (6)
It was chaos.
The remaining members of the faculty who were not part of the entourage ushered all loitering students, who was having a field day because of the new developments, back into their respective classrooms. Ono and the rest of the Student Council as well as select committee members were excused from afternoon classes to help in remedying the situation. The pool was drained, the dead rats were extricated from the vents, and the mysterious disc inserted in the player wired to the campus' broadcasting system was broken into shards.
There was power in numbers, Ono thought, as she observed all ongoing movement from the rooftop, with all the committee members running around campus to undo the mess. While Sonoda redirected the route of the tour with Masafumi-sensei's approval, Ono worked in the sidelines, her walkie-talkie poised in front of her as she muttered instructions.
After half an hour of collective effort, some semblance of control was finally obtained, and just in time for the accreditors stepping foot inside the building for the afternoon meeting. While Masafumi-sensei and a pair of administrative members dressed in their business attires preoccupied the visitors with a detailed history of Rikkaidai over their finger food, Ono stood in one corner of the room and quietly collected herself.
A short introduction about the Student Council members was provided by the level coordinator, then Ono was ushered in front to talk about student life in Rikkai.
"Please take your seats."
Four words that triggered a land mine.
Ono stood frozen by the podium as she watched every single one of the WASC Accreditors and members of the administration topple helplessly onto the carpet, some of them lying sprawled on the floor, looking completely undignified. Their cushioned seats had apparently been unscrewed from the legs supporting the chairs. The rest of the Student Council members, who were the only ones that remained safe on their untampered seats, stared at her, horrified, and completely at a loss of what to do.
"Ono!" Masafumi-sensei roared from his position under the table.
She breathed deeply.
Her eyes were beginning to sting.
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『 3:30 PM – Dismissal 』
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The issue with her missing planner seemed to be a thing of the past now.
In a matter of one day, Ono had progressed from sulking like a kid who lost her candy to sneaking around campus like a member of a reconnaissance team tasked to recover a lost territory to an unrelenting hurricane as she swept past the hallways, leaving a couple of bewildered schoolmates in her wake. One, two, three flights of stairs and a deserted corridor, her movements were steadfast as the friction between her indoor shoes and linoleum tiles was the only sound heard in the silence.
After helping the adults from their unbecoming positions on the floor, the council members had handed each one of them a glass of refreshment to ease their nerves. But every consequent action on their part seemed only seemed to dig them a deeper hole because a moment later, a couple of the adults were hunched over their seats, groaning in pain shooting from their churning bowels. Ono and Kobayashi were quick to direct them to the nearest bathrooms.
Where the cubicles were all occupied.
During class hours.
Ono was so close to banging on the doors, but instead managed to make herself rap her knuckles against the doors. There was no response.
With the pressure of appeasing the guest standing impatiently behind her, she was forced to do something she wouldn't normally do. Coupled with the adrenaline pumping through her veins and the sheer anger that had steadily built up inside of her, she was able to gather the bravado to climb up the nearby counters and peer down the cubicles.
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They were all empty.
Save for a pair of legs placed against the toilet bowl. (7) Legs donning a pair of pants similar in shade to the Rikkai uniform, as well as a pair of shoes.
In a mixture of fury and desperation, she attempted to hop over the cubicles, but to no avail, only looked like a fool trying to get her legs over. She then opted to clamber down the counters and kicked the doors open, to the surprise of Kobayashi and their American companion. She cleared the cubicle by grabbing the pair of legs, and consequently informed the authorities of what was apparently an elaborate and outrageous plan to sabotage that day's accreditation.
All suspicion fell upon one name alone.
The classroom door slid open with a loud thud.
The room was empty, apart from the lone student sitting quietly in the farthest corner of the room.
Niou looked up from the book he was reading, and grinned.
Ono boldly strode over to his seat, her face unreadable as she dropped the prosthesis atop the open book. When he didn't respond and simply stared at the horrifying slab of metal and plastic vaguely resembling a human leg, as if it was the first time he had ever seen something like it in his life, she totally lost it: she grabbed his shirt by the collar and jerked him towards her, closing the distance until her face was only a hair's breadth from his. Suddenly, she was well aware of the steeper incline of his cheeks, the small dot drawn in black ink at the corner of his eye, and his eyes which were a sparkling shade of silver instead of icy blue.
She dropped him back in his seat, dumbfounded.
"Where's Niou-kun?" she whispered after a lengthy pause.
The pseudo-Niou looked at her curiously. "Ono-senpai."
She bristled, his baritone a foreign inflection to her ears, and his address a stark difference from the nickname she had grown accustomed to over time. Oni-senpai, that's what he called her. Her memory jogged back to a particular encounter in the hallway earlier that day, an encounter between a certain tall brunet in glasses, whose normally harmless aura morphed into that of something that made her skin crawl.
She stared at pseudo-Niou, who unlike the real Niou, could not seem to hold her gaze.
Bits and pieces started to fall into place.
Why Niou had been adamant to keep his hair color. Why the conference room, which she had prepared beforehand with some help, turned disastrous. How he was able to have freedom in wreaking havoc without suspicion during class hours, as the class representatives ran around school all day, trying to remedy the situation he started in the first place. All of them, duped. Without any knowledge that the perpetrator had been among them all this time.
"That's to be expected, senpai."
He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"We are partners, after all."
"Yagyuu Hiroshi."
Her voice was level, all energy drained, as she stared at the boy studying her intently. He was no longer surprised when she addressed him, as if he had come to realize in that brief encounter that Ono Sakurako was closer to uncovering Niou than anyone had ever dared to. Her anger had dissipated, and instead, she simply looked tired, weary from having to wrestle her way through everything that had happened that day. She no longer had the presence of mind to even put a pretense in front of the Gentleman.
So maybe she hadn't been the most gracious when it came to Niou. Maybe, injuring him before their ranking tournaments for cutting her hair, which was done out of good intentions, hadn't been the best way to thank him for helping her out. Maybe, disturbing tennis club's activities had been out of the line. And the strict implementation of the dress code, which she proposed? It was necessary. Perhaps petty.
But these were trifles—and in her defense, completely justified—as compared to his excessive bullying.
And now this? This elaborate plan to ruin both her and Rikkaidai's good reputation.
She honestly tried to make sense of Niou's line of thinking. What could have possibly pushed him to these things, in his words, "powerful situational forces" that drove him over the edge?
"Why?" was all she could muster when her mind drew to a complete blank.
But before she could get her answer, a loud whirring erupted throughout the building, and then it was only a matter of moments that they were drenched from the sprinklers on the ceiling. Yagyuu had already gotten on his feet, which prompted Ono to immediately and unabashedly grab his hand and lock their fingers together.
"You're not going anywhere."
.
.
.
All three thousand students of Rikkaidai were soaked when they assembled out in the courtyards, dazed and confused as to what was happening. In front of the crowd was Masafumi-sensei, who was profusely apologizing to the American visitors. Following protocol, Sonoda with the other members of the Disciplinary Committee, were in charge of the safe and orderly transit of the students outside the buildings. Meanwhile, Ono stayed put beside Yagyuu, her eyes scanning for any sign of Niou.
"Look!" someone cried, pointing skyward.
A torrential amount of papers fell upon them, and seemed to have come from one of the open windows of the top floor. Students extended their arms to reach for a paper, while others crouched to pick up the ones on the ground.
Ono got ahold of a sheet with her free hand, her eyes hungrily raking through its contents.
It was a newspaper article, an editorial in particular, and it read:
September 1 of 20xx holds the largest recorded number of suicide attempts for Rikkai Daigaku Fuzoku Chuugakkou. An increase of 20% has been observed from previous years that it makes us wonder what could have caused this unfortunate happenstance. We will try to look into the similarities and differences of the students involved, with hopes of shedding light on the dispositional and situational factors which prompted these events. The attempts by T*******a and N**u…
Ono's head snapped up and her eyes met Yagyuu's, who appeared to have been gauging her reaction all this time. She gripped his hand tighter, her voice leaving no room for questions.
"We need to talk."
.
.
.
TBC
Author's Note: Editing is a pain. So, how was the chapter? Any form of feedback would be lovely. I'm sorry I wasn't able to send out review replies last time, but I'll be sure to reply this time! Again, thank you to those who reviewed, faved, and alerted this humble fic of mine.
Extras:
(1) According to petmd, dark chocolate bars are more dangerous to dogs' health because of the higher levels of a substance (methylxanthines) which inhibits an enzyme (phosphodiesterase) needed in a variety of metabolic processes. Consumption of low levels of chocolate doesn't mean automatic death for our doggies, but higher levels makes it more difficult to remove the toxins, thus a more likely death. Which was what happened to poor Sakurako's dog, I suppose.
(2) Sweet stewed meat and potatoes is Sakurako's favorite homecooked meal.
(3) Sitting/squatting applies pressure on the abdomen, and consequently encourages release of the stool. Guys, there's a WikiHow on "How to Hold in Poop in Embarrassing Situations", and it is enlightening.
(4) Ideas from this lovely book entitled "The Lucifer Effect" written by Philip Zimbardo. A mind-picker.
(5) A statue of Nike, the Greek goddess of victory. I think it was apt to use her, considering Rikkai's "Always win" culture. I leave the interpretation of the blood red water and floating mannequin to you. Maybe it's a picture of the price you have to pay in order to attain that victory? Or something. I suppose you'll get more clues as the story progresses.
(6) More clues, yay. All linked to death.
(7) A makeshift prosthesis. Oh, wow. How random, Niou. The question is: is it really random or not?
Tally:
Niou: Cutting her hair + Stunt with Kiriyama + Ruining cred = III Points
Ono: Inflicting injury + Tennis club issues + Dress code = III Points
PS: How many points are you willing to give Niou for this chapter? :P
Up Next: The aftermath of the storm.