CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE – THE FESTIVAL (PART ONE)
Even in the early half of the day, Koizumi Academy was already fired up with activity and people.
Streamers abound, and posters and banners fluttered lazily as they were suspended from virtually any surface that the eye can reach—on the branches of trees, from lampposts, even the nooks and crannies that windows could offer. Against the day's cool breeze, they resembled various coats of arms, each a proud product created through the efforts of a certain class's artists. Within the school, a cacophonic mishmash of music, muffled but nonetheless audible, was reverberating from some occupied rooms where certain classes had taken up residence to proudly display the results of weeks' worth of work. But that was not to say that most of the action was taking place inside the academy; the open field, often bare during ordinary school days without Physical Education classes, now resembled a multicolored neighborhood as booths of all sorts lined up its sidelines, some even occupying a few patches of ground on the field when no other areas could offer space. People in various costumes—some with simple embellishments like sparkling sequins, tassels and pieces of colored cardboard made on top of everyday clothing, some wearing full homemade suits that made them resemble giant animals and caricatures—stood out garishly as they paraded around the grounds, accompanied by a troupe of classmates passing flyers and loudly encouraging people to visit their booths. At every corner, speakers were set up, connected to the PA system and playing some ambient pop music and an occasional anime song to keep spirits up, even if the prospect of enthusiasm dwindling seemed distant with the vibrant atmosphere that prevailed. All in all, there was an overload to the senses, with the eyes and ears taking the initial brunt as sights were taken in and excitement filled the air.
Akihiro grinned to himself as he walked, looking around at the booths and streamers. As part of the team that was tasked to set up their class's booths in the open field, he had arrived rather early. He had sent Sayori a few texts in the early morning, asking her if she wanted to come along with him, but Sayori had not bothered to reply yet, and not even a few calls—all unanswered—had swayed her. Musing that she had decided to sleep some more and arrive a bit later than usual, Akihiro had let her be, as duty compelled him to arrive early with or without her. Nevertheless, he privately wished that she had been with him – seeing the school slowly and inexorably coming to life throughout the morning as students and visitors arrived was a sight to behold indeed, like a painting slowly gaining color on a blank canvas before his eyes. Now, there were many, many prospects for him to explore, and while he would surely love to do so with Sayori once she showed up, he wanted to take some time to start exploring alone as he set out to spread word about his class's booths.
With the time of day now approaching ten o'clock, preliminary activities were starting to commence. The student council had handed out official pamphlets earlier to visitors, telling them of an open mic concert as well as a food bazaar that would be opening shortly after noontime, along with some games and interactive activities that the school had prepared for any prospective participants. Students who had formed their own makeshift musical bands were starting to flock to the gym, preparing for their routines at the concert. Elsewhere, barriers and facilities were being set up for the games, and also to help direct the press of people into a more manageable flow. In the meantime, familiar faces began cropping up everywhere—former schoolmates who were now in other classes, teachers who were participating in certain events, and more friends who had decided to show up late. Akihiro conversed with some of them as he went, exchanging cordialities and inviting them to stop by for their booth and sign up as participants for their scavenger race.
At around ten-thirty, while watching other students set up booths and tables for the food bazaar, Akihiro turned to see two more familiar faces arriving at the field: Daisuke, his arms laden with a stack of boxes, with Natsuki walking next to him carrying a smaller stack, her black mask still covering half of her smallish face. Akihiro stood up from where he was sitting and made his way towards them.
"Hello there!" he called out over the throng of voices and music, waving.
Daisuke grinned as he turned to see him approaching. "Hey, Akihiro!"
"Need a hand with those?" Akihiro asked, nodding towards the boxes. "I don't have a lot to do right now."
"Is that okay with you? We've been carrying these all the way from my place, and my back's starting to kill me," said Daisuke with a laugh.
"Of course!" Akihiro took three of the boxes as Daisuke said a word of thanks. "How about you, Natsuki? Do you need help with those?"
"No, I've got it," said Natsuki. She gave him a petulant look, but her gaze softened as she added, "Thanks for the offer, though."
Akihiro smiled. "So, where are you two headed?" he asked.
"Our booths are by the cafeteria side," said Daisuke in reply. "Come on."
Class 3-D's booths were a mixture of blue, purple and pink, housing a number of various displays—hand-painted pictures, decorative baubles made out of paper and cardboard, and a balloon pop display with prizes ranging from school supplies to small stuffed animals. Akihiro observed them and the other students from 3-D curiously, exchanging brief pleasantries with some who had been his classmates in previous years. Some were starting to pin some colorful banners atop their booths, and Akihiro saw that apart from bearing the booths' names, the banners bore a unique crest laden with various symmetrical designs that were derived from "3-D," an obvious nod to the class to whom the booths belonged to.
"Nice banners," he commented. "I wish we had more of those."
"We have our resident artist Mr. Matsuda to thank for those banners," said one of the 3-D students. Beside Daisuke, Natsuki chuckled silently.
"Wait, you made those banners, Daisuke?" asked Akihiro as he placed down the boxes alongside them on one of the booths.
"Yep. Been working on that kind of thing for the festivals," said Daisuke, smiling as he glanced up at his work. "It's hard to think of a design every year, but I can manage."
"Well, now we know who's the toughest third-year class to beat if the school ever decides to hold banner-making contests," said Akihiro approvingly, looking at the stuffed animals at the balloon pop booth and being reminded of Sayori. "Anyway, what're in these boxes you guys are carrying, by the way? They look like precious cargo."
"With the quality they have, you can say that," Daisuke replied with a small laugh. "They're cupcakes."
"Oh, really? Did you guys buy them or what?"
"Not really. Natsuki and—"
"A-Alright, that's enough of that," Natsuki said loudly, interrupting Daisuke's words as she shot him a look. She turned to Akihiro and nodded. "Thanks again for your help. We'll be giving out cupcakes later, so if you want to try them out, you can stop by our booths later when they're all open. We can't start handing them out just yet, or else we'd run out before the day ends."
"Oh, sure thing. Thanks," said Akihiro, nodding with a smile. "Same goes for any of you, by the way. Our booths will be opening shortly, so feel free to come around later. And if you wanna participate in our scavenger hunt, sign-ups are still open until 1 P.M. You get to carry props and wear a bit of gear and all that stuff, and everyone gets a prize, even for just participating. It'll be loads of fun."
"We might be a bit too busy to join that race, but we'll definitely see if we can visit your other booths," said Daisuke. "Anyway, thanks again for your help, man. We appreciate it."
"It was nothing. See you guys around!"
With that, Akihiro rejoined the jumble of people walking around the open field. More familiar faces popped up, both from other classes as well as some students who had taken to cosplaying as some well-known video game and anime characters to promote their own displays and booths. Sayori was now definitely missing out on the preliminary excitement of the festival's genesis, Akihiro knew, but the day was long, and there was still plenty of time and fun for her to arrive at once she showed up. Sending her a quick text asking her to hurry up, he set out, looking for more people to invite to Class 3-B's booths.
Yuri hung back at the benches, choosing to sit and observe all the other students and visitors walking towards the open field, where most of the fun was happening for the festival. The walk to school had taken a toll on her body, and her back had the faint makings of a strain that needed a bit of rest. Meanwhile, Naoki had retreated inside the school's main building earlier, being one of the assignees tasked to make the final preparations for their class's booths as well as to help the prop and costume preparations for the designated "hawkers"—a small group of their classmates who would go around in colorful costumes loudly and enthusiastically inviting people to stop by Class 3-C's venues. Not knowing what to do without Naoki to guide her in such a dynamic, lively atmosphere, Yuri waited for his return both patiently and anxiously.
Somehow, it felt superfluous to bring along The Portrait of Markov during a day when any silent and solitary activity seemed to be virtually unheard of, but such was the norm for Yuri every time a major event or festival happened at school. Instead of being absent entirely and risking her absence being noted by class officers or professors, she had no choice but to attend such events – provided she could find a nice, quiet spot at the rooftop to read and be at peace away from everything and everyone else. Once the festivities were done, all that remained for her to do was to sneak back downstairs and depart with the crowd. However, that was all before she had met Naoki and taken the little steps necessary to combat her introversion for him, her recent huge mishap notwithstanding. Even so, Yuri chose to bring the book along, musing that at the very least it would give her something to do if Naoki was needed elsewhere again.
Yuri's gaze rested again on the festival. As of late, she had decided to write almost nightly in an effort to keep her groove and steer clear of her anxiety, and the sights and sounds there would make for an exhilarating poem indeed—if she could deal with the extroverted pressure of mingling with a crowd in order to look for inspiration up close, that is. Still, it was only a simple matter of remembering what she would see, hear and feel and saving them in her mind to write for later. Thus, she began making mental notes on which activities and venues would be engaging and interesting enough to influence the mood in her next poem for tonight, and one instance in particular was something that Yuri was anticipating more than anything – a visit at Class 3-D's booths for some of Natsuki's cupcakes. The cupcakes themselves would be worth the trip, but if the day did not permit her to spend as much time alone or with Naoki as she would have liked, Yuri looked forward to spending some time with Natsuki herself. As she had confessed to Naoki before, Yuri always liked discussing things with her in spite of her nervousness in talking to someone who had a penchant for being so blunt and even abrasive. Especially now, when her anxiety was directing her to seek out more people apart from Naoki to keep her anchored in spite of her introversion, Yuri knew that Natsuki was at least a person she felt she knew better now than most of her classmates.
When Naoki returned, Yuri immediately stood up with a ready, if nervous smile. The strain on her back nudged at her a little as she moved.
"I'm sorry if that took too long," Naoki told her as he approached.
"Don't worry, it's alright," said Yuri. "D-Do you need to go someplace else?"
"Right now, I don't think so. Some of the guys are filling in for us at the booths, so we should be good to wander around for a while." Naoki smiled, adjusting his eyeglasses as he looked around before turning again to her. Together, the two of them made their way to the open field.
"Where do you want to go?"
"Anywhere is fine with me," said Yuri. "If you don't mind, though . . ."
"Yes? What is it?" asked Naoki.
Yuri swallowed anxiously. "I would p-prefer if we sat down somewhere every once in a while. You see, my back tends to start hurting more nowadays if I walk for too long. I guess it's because I've gotten used to leaning forward again when I'm r-reading or writing. . ."
"Oh, I hope it's nothing too serious," said Naoki concernedly.
"Don't worry, it's not. I guess it's just because of my—"
Yuri hesitated for a moment, looking down and wondering just how best to explain it to someone as proper as Naoki. Poor posture was one way to circumvent an explanation about her predicament, as her mood generally affected the way she sat and slept and read, but the actual answer seemed utterly obvious as she glanced at her own body that she wondered if it was foolish to even try hiding it. After all, in spite of the clothes she chose to wear, she could not always hide the womanly figure she possessed, nor could she stave off some of the stares that came with it from certain males that she passed by. Instinctively, she braced her copy of Markov against her chest, imagining a bluntly amused side comment from Natsuki echoing somewhere in the vicinity.
Yuri plunged on determinedly; her embarrassment peaked all of a sudden as faint realization dawned on Naoki's face.
"B-Because of my . . ."
"Finally!"
Yuri jumped as a loud, familiar voice boomed some ways behind them, carrying even above the din of the festival. The two of them turned around to see Kenta approaching them, his blazer unbuttoned to reveal a black shirt bearing the printed logo of a familiar basketball team. He had a mixed look of disgruntlement and glee on his face, and he waved cheerfully as he drew nearer.
"Salivations, you two!" he greeted.
"You're mixing up words in the dictionary again, Kenta. Were you looking for 'salutations?'" said Naoki amusedly. Yuri bit back a nervous giggle.
"Ah, mine's close enough." Kenta looked around, drawing in a deep breath and making his broad chest puff out. "Is everybody else at the booths already? Been looking everywhere for our mates! I guess they're all busy helping out inside, eh?"
"Yes, I just got back from helping the hawkers set up, actually," said Naoki. "How about Daisuke? Did you catch him along the way?"
"Nah, I texted him earlier. He arrived earlier than I did, the little dolt. Anyway, where are you two headed? Gonna watch over the booths?"
"No, we've got the others taking care of that for the morning. Yuri and I were just on our way to figure out where we can go in the meantime."
"Well, if you're gonna go exploring, be sure to check out 3-B's booths and stuff. I heard that Akihiro and his buddies have a sweet little scavenger hunt planned for later. Might be fun to watch."
"Oh yes, he sent me a text about that as well. We also have 3-D to visit later, with Natsuki's baking and all."
Kenta raised his eyebrows. "Natsuki? Baking?" he asked blankly.
Naoki laughed. "I think Daisuke forgot to tell you."
"Is this another conspiracy to keep me out of the loop about something important again?" asked Kenta. "Dolts."
"Not really, you just weren't there when we found out about Natsuki planning to bake some cupcakes for today. She surprised us with some sample cupcakes last week to see if it'd work, and they were really good."
"Really? Huh. That's actually pretty neat."
"Yeah, it is. And we're looking forward to stopping by later for what else she baked. Make sure to stop by there too!"
"Alright, sounds good. In the meantime, though, I think I'll just go on ahead and see who's watching the booths already, or maybe wait around a bit until the open mic concert starts." Kenta winked and saluted at the two of them. "You two have fun. I know I will!"
"Sure thing, brother," said Naoki with a grin.
"T-Take care, Kenta," Yuri added politely, feeling rather uncomfortable that she was completely quiet during their entire exchange until now.
Kenta, on the other hand, did not seem to think much of it. "Thanks!" he said cheerfully. With that, he walked past them, going in another direction at the open field. Soon, his athletic frame was drowned out by the press of students in the distance.
"Kenta likes calling you and Daisuke 'dolts' often, d-doesn't he?" Yuri asked as she and Naoki continued walking.
"Yes, but don't worry. He doesn't always mean it," replied Naoki.
"But h-he knows what it means, right?" Yuri inquired, not wanting to sound as if she was trying to judge Kenta.
"That's why he uses it so often," said Naoki with a chuckle. "He keeps using big words sometimes, even if his pronunciations and memory aren't the best, as I'm sure you've seen. He first saw 'dolt' on an online gaming forum back in middle school, and he's been using it ever since I told him what it meant. I think he also likes how it sounds. Easy to remember too."
"I see. . ." said Yuri, smiling a little. However, the expression faded as she remembered what she had been trying to say before Kenta's arrival. "A-About what I was telling you earlier. . ."
Naoki, however, held up a hand to forestall her. Yuri saw that his cheeks had grown faintly pink for some reason. "Don't worry, I get what you were . . . what you were t-trying to say," he said.
Yuri stared at him for a moment before heaving a sigh of relief. "Thank you," she said, blushing as well.
On the open field, the two of them soon saw that even more groups of hawkers from other classes were now marching about, waving placards and banners of their own as they advertised their respective class's booths and activities with unique chants and catchphrases. Some groups were setting up on various areas, ready to perform dance routines and short skits in full costume. Yuri watched them admiringly in silence from the sidelines, wondering just what kind of courage it takes for someone to shout and dance and entertain in front of a large crowd. Still, the energy they were giving off was infectious, and Yuri felt even more determined to keep looking for a way to make the most out of the day's festivities.
The second-year student peered again from around the door frame, looking rather concerned. "Are you sure you don't want to come along with us just yet, Miss Monika?" she asked.
"Not yet, Ichika. I'll go down to the festival when I'm done with these notes. Thank you for the invitation, though," Monika replied with a smile. The eagerness on her junior club members' faces was plain to read; they wanted to make the most out of the day before they returned for the second and final meeting later, and it would not do if she delayed them any longer.
"It was nothing, Miss Monika," said the student, smiling back. "We'll try to be back early for the meeting. See you later!"
"Alright, have fun!"
When she was all alone at last, Monika looked over the notes one more time, ensuring that everything was up to par before the first meeting of the day was officially concluded on her end. It was a superfluous task, she knew, with their final meeting later on aimed at finalizing what needed nailing down and thus lessening the need for her to finalize anything at the moment. Still, with the nationals drawing ever nearer, duty was the norm for the debate club, and such was the obligation that Monika knew she should stick to if she wanted to set a good example to her junior members. In keeping with this commitment, the debate club had decided to forego any participation in the festival, not even to demonstrate a mock debate or instill interest in would-be signees in the future. Instead, Monika had pitched to her other officers—with Takeo leading the way in approving her choice—their schedule for December and January in preparation for the nationals, to nip things in the bud before stress and conflicting schedules became a problem. The notes that Monika was reading now bore the preliminary listings of their next meetings as well as the scheduled follow-up reports they would be making in front of their superiors at the faculty.
Monika heaved a sigh, once again finding herself trapped between the world of responsibility and the portal to a brighter atmosphere filled with choices and fun as the festival commenced all around her. Even as her eyes trailed over the itineraries she had written in her own hand, she began wondering if taking up her junior members' offer of going down to the festival was a better idea than staying all alone in a clubroom that seemed a million times more dismal in comparison. Still, she shouldered her choice with both resignation and determination. After all, it was not as if she would be in the clubroom for the entire day; being a prisoner at home under the pejorative scrutiny of her mother was already enough, especially after her last date with Kenta. Her heart twitched a little at that. While nothing much seemed to change on her end as her mother put the issue behind her in record time, Monika sensed that something was starting to bother Kenta again. Sure enough, he still occasionally texted her and sent her puns and jokes and reminded her to take care of herself at all times, but Monika could not help but wonder if there was more than Kenta was letting on after her mother had spoken to him.
Drawing near the end of the list, Monika put the papers down and stood up, pacing around the classroom before settling near the windows. Looking down, she saw a multitude of people snaking their way across the space in between the booths on the open field, with some leaking into the center of the field as the food bazaar began to take off. It was like gazing into another city, another dimension with lots of colors and choices. And she, Monika, was staring out from a hole within a dismal place, all alone, choosing to remain behind and stick to her duties for a little while longer instead of joining in immediately. She smiled to herself as she remembered how it drew an interesting parallel with the last poem she had written, and marveled at the irony that it was a choice she had made on her own volition. Drawing away from the windows, she wondered if she would make such choices again in the future.
The food bazaar had officially begun by the time Monika finished her note-reading. She placed everything neatly in the club's main desk, locked the clubroom and made her way down to the ground floor. Slowly, things began coming to life for her, with each floor leading her to more students hanging around the classrooms and corridors, either in uniform or in full costume. Those who recognized her, from freshmen to upperclassmen, greeted her with warmth and an air of familiarity, though it was not the same kind of familiarity that one would give a good friend; rather, it was the kind that one would afford a public figure, a celebrity even, being a byproduct of Monika's status as a model student and one of the school's most popular girls. In spite of all this, however, Monika responded to the greetings and invitations with equal friendliness, not wanting to seem too rude by passing everyone by with nary an acknowledgment just because she did not know every one of them personally.
Finally out on the open field, passing by a number of acquaintances and former classmates along the way, Monika scanned the horizon. Each booth seemed to offer forth something unique in an effort to draw in visitors. The art club, with its booth right at the entrance of the open field, was offering to hand-draw portraits of visitors in various art styles, and already there were quite a few of them lining up to see how they would look anime-style. The drama club had already erected a makeshift stage near the food bazaar, their costumed members playing comedic skits from well-known television shows to any passersby who wanted to stop by for a quick laugh. And some students carrying various musical instruments—keyboards, electric guitars, and the like—were making their way towards the gymnasium, no doubt preparing for the open mic concert later in the day as the music club guided them with a list of schedules and signatures. They reminded Monika of Kenta's joking invitation to her long ago, and she could not help but wonder how it would turn out if she had taken up on his offer and played for the school like she did on her piano recitals long ago in elementary school. Life had been simpler then.
Passing by a number of booths, Monika spotted Akihiro in the distance, walking around as if looking for someone. Smiling at the sight of a more familiar face, she made her way towards him.
"Hey there, Akihiro!" she called out.
Akihiro turned around, looking harried for a moment. "Oh, hello there, Monika!" he greeted back with a wave.
"Having fun? I just got back downstairs from our clubroom." Monika looked around, stepping aside to let a gaggle of costumed freshmen pass. "Good to know the festival hasn't passed me by yet!"
"Plenty of time for everyone to catch up," said Akihiro. "I really wish Sayori's here already, though. Haven't seen her all morning. Did you see her, by any chance?"
"Come to think of it, no, I haven't. Didn't she come along with you this morning?"
"Nah, had to wake up pretty early to help our class set up." Akihiro shook his head, taking out his cellphone from his pocket and glancing at it. "No texts, no calls, nothing. I mean, it's not the first time she overslept and showed up really late, but I'm just . . . I mean, the food bazaar's up, and she's not the type to miss out on food."
Monika placed a hand on Akihiro's shoulder. "I'm certain that she's going to show up sooner or later," she said reassuringly. "Anyway, it's always sweet to see you being concerned for her like this. She'd be blushing up a storm if she could hear you right now."
Akihiro turned slightly pink as he laughed. "Thanks. I know she can be an airhead sometimes, but I don't wanna coast on that kind of thinking too much, not after the stuff we've been through in the past months."
"Oh yes, I know what you mean," said Monika, remembering the sad things that Sayori had confided in her before. Only then did she realize that she had not spoken much to Sayori at all about them; Monika made a mental note to ask in the future.
"I don't think you'd need to worry about her too much at the moment," she went on. "Maybe she just went somewhere and forgot to bring her phone."
"Yeah, maybe you're right," said Akihiro, though the look in his eyes betrayed his continuing doubt. "I wanted her to come with me this morning to school, but with the early preparations and all . . . I don't think I should've left her to go alone. I mean, we always go to school together, and . . . ugh, I don't know."
Monika smiled. "I'm sure she's okay, Akihiro. It's not like you just left her hanging, you know?"
Akihiro sighed. "I hope I didn't." His melancholy reminded Monika of Kenta for a moment, and briefly her mind wandered back to their latest evening together.
After Akihiro left her with an invitation to their class's booths and scavenger race, Monika kept moving deeper into the open field, navigating the maze of festivities with curiosity and growing anticipation. Many familiar faces ran into her along the way, including most of her club members and a few of the student council officers that had been her former classmates. Soon, other visitors showed up—relatives, friends from other schools, and other such acquaintances. The festival was open to all.
Monika crossed the open field and made her way at the covered walks near the gymnasium, looking for a more peaceful place for the moment. Music echoed from the gymnasium, cacophonic and intermittent, the rehearsals of the prospective participants at the open mic concert. Listening to the guitars and drums and keyboards clashing with the pop music that was playing on the speakers around the field, Monika's fingers twitched, looking for the keys of a piano momentarily, itching to tap a melody out in the air. She imagined playing before the school, singing to them the song that she had yet to finish composing, the one that conveyed her feelings to Kenta at her house long ago.
An unoccupied stone bench near the comfort rooms was where Monika soon found solace. It had to be an odd sight, she mused—an extroverted individual like her, well-known throughout the academy, looking for peace and quiet in some far corner of the school grounds and away from her other friends. Monika could only vaguely wonder what compelled her to do so. A few minutes' worth of respite before she would go to the food bazaar to eat? A realization that the dynamic atmosphere of the festival seemed to clash with her pensive aura? Monika did not know, and yet her she was, led by her own two feet. She sat down on the bench, her gaze stopping to rest on the merriments in the distance.
"Having fun alone, are we?"
Monika turned around. Takeo was there, with his auburn hair and pale blue eyes and that consistently smug air beneath his smile. It was the first time that he had ever approached her on his own volition since that business dinner at her house long ago, and she had not expected him to do so again outside of their club meetings any time soon after their last argument. Monika's surprise was further compounded as she noticed that he was carrying two plastic cups with him.
"Fancy a drink?" he asked.
Monika scooted aside, giving him the signal that it was okay for him to sit. "Is that brandy you have there?" she joked.
"Only fruit punch, I'm afraid," Takeo replied in an amused tone as he walked towards her and sat down next to her, "courtesy of some of my classmates at the bazaar."
"Sounds refreshing," said Monika, taking the cup he offered with a smile. "Thank you."
"You're very much welcome." Takeo took a sip of punch and leaned back on the bench with a sigh. "It's good that we didn't decide to make ourselves even busier by having the club join the fun. I'm glad you chose to plan instead."
"Well, the nationals can't be taken lightly, as you've been graciously reminding us." Speaking these words, Monika remembered their argument again. She sat up rather stiffly, though she kept her voice cordial. "At the very least, we'll be able to rest easy once it's all said and done. Until then, we just need to keep doing our best when we can."
Takeo nodded beside her, staring off to the open field. "I heard that the team from Sakagami Institute has been making quite the climb in their prefecture for the past few months. And Kumahara High's team has started training with the help of a professor from Tokyo. I expect they'll be quite the challenge."
Now it was Monika's turn to nod. Once the time for actual practice came, she knew they would be up to their ears in notes, index cards and reminders from their professors about the dos and don'ts in their arguments, all mounting as January drew nearer. Koizumi Academy had been in the nationals only thrice before, always the bridesmaid, never the bride. In the present year, with their roster being proclaimed the best their professors had seen in years, the order to win their first championship at last was a very tall one indeed. As such, they would treasure what little reprieve they would have from all the training and preparation.
"I've been thinking about what will happen after the nationals," Takeo continued. "I think that whatever the outcome will be, we deserve to celebrate our efforts. The mere fact that we managed to accumulate enough accolades in the local scene to bring Koizumi to Tokyo again is enough."
Another surprise. Monika stared at Takeo, her eyebrows raised in wonder. Her vice president had always reiterated that celebrating any victory was superfluous considering that such victories only meant that they needed to work harder. The fact that it was he who was offering to celebrate this time seemed out of character for him. Monika could not help but wonder if Takeo was merely trying to extend an olive branch of sorts after their last confrontation, or if the festival's air of merriment had given him the idea, or if he was genuinely proud of the club's redoubled efforts.
"What kind of celebration?" she asked.
Takeo shrugged. "We can hang around Tokyo for a while after the competition, I suppose. Go around, take in the sights, eat nicely. I've been speaking to Mother about her friends who can help us book the accommodations we'll need for the competition, and they might help us find a nice place to unwind once it's all over—Asakusa, Ginza, Omotesando, wherever. I've been to Tokyo a lot before, so it's all old news to me, but perhaps you and the others will find it enjoyable."
"I think that'd be nice indeed," said Monika. Though her parents traveled frequently around Japan for work, she had known only dear old Eishima for most of her life. "When are we going to tell the others?"
"Preferably after the competition," Takeo replied shortly. "We wouldn't want the prospect ruining anyone's focus, so please don't tell any of them just yet."
"Don't worry, I won't," said Monika, laughing a little at how Takeo's munificence did not negate his focused mindset one bit. "I'll look forward to it, though. Thank you for planning it."
Takeo shrugged again, taking a sip of punch. The faintest of smiles crossed the corners of his lips. "It's nothing."
Why did I do this, why did I do this, why did I do this, why did I do this, why did I do this?
Natsuki's heart was racing at a hundred miles per hour, threatening to climb up her throat. The wait was excruciating, but she was dreading its end all the same. Class 3-D's booths were starting to pick up visitors, and sooner or later they would have to whip out the cupcakes for them. Compared to her previous efforts, where she had the cupcakes given anonymously to her classmates back then through their class adviser, sitting out in the open like this and waiting for providence to rear its head was more than she could handle. A number of times, Natsuki considered swallowing her pride and fear to stick with the choices she made, but she also wanted to scream and fight and beg the gods of time and nature for the chance to make herself scarce once the first cupcakes were handed out.
Daisuke had gone off to the field, looking to get some food for the two of them at the bazaar. Natsuki wanted to wait for his return before asking if it was time. After all, he was complicit in this . . . this deed, this choice of hers, and she wanted him to be there when it all came crashing down around her ears, so that she could blame and punch him one last time before she melted into nothingness out of sheer embarrassment.
Natsuki stood up, excusing herself from her other classmates at the booth, and snuck away to a remote corner of the gymnasium's exterior close to the restrooms. Making sure that no one was around to see, she pulled down her face mask and let out a protracted sigh, as if she had been holding her breath in for a while now. She leaned back against the wall next to her, her head turned away in case any passersby chanced to look around at her. Thankfully, no one seemed to pay her any heed, even as her spot sat next to one of the covered walkways that led back to the open field. The cool autumn air caressed her face, drying up the sweat on her cheeks and chin in its soothing touch. Natsuki breathed in the relief it provided, letting it ease her fears ever so slightly.
I should just go home. I'll tell Daisuke that . . . that I have a stomach ache. That's it. Or that Dad wants me home early. Or maybe I can say that Aunt Shoko is coming over.
No, I shouldn't leave. Daisuke might mess things up when he's handing out the cupcakes. He might give out too much, or too little. Or he might forget.
"Ugh!" Natsuki grumbled, stamping her foot and balling her small hands into fists. Though trapped within the school, she knew that the only one holding her back from simply leaving without any explanation was her own self, but she could not find it in her heart to even attempt walking past the booths. She saw with annoyance that she was willing herself to find a good enough reason to walk away, and even then she was contradicting herself by finding reasons to stay. She breathed deeply, putting her face mask back on, trying to calm her heart long enough for her to begin thinking rationally.
Okay, I should just wait for him to come back. Maybe while we're eating, we can talk about it, and maybe . . . maybe I'll slip in casually the idea that I can just go home early. Or stay. I don't know.
"Oh!"
As a tall, warm body collided with hers, Natsuki's thoughts screeched to a sudden halt. The exclamation that followed had come from a girl, judging by her tone of voice. Natsuki felt her chest press against her face, her knee hitting against her hip. The collision was not that hard, though it definitely rattled Natsuki's senses with how sudden it was. She scrambled backwards, half-shoving the intruder away from her and glaring up as her temper skyrocketed.
"What's the big idea?!" she screeched as her eyes focused on the other girl. "Can't you see that I'm—?!"
Instead of continuing, however, she found herself staring up at the beautiful, mortified face of Yuri Hoshino, who looked as if she had just witnessed a murder in front of her eyes. Natsuki bit back her tirade, brushing her pink hair from her eyes as she glared at Yuri. As annoyed as she was, she could not help but think twice as she saw the actual shock—and fear—in Yuri's brilliant eyes.
"I'm really sorry!" Yuri exclaimed, drawing back in fright. "I was going to the restroom, a-and I didn't see that you were here! I'm so sorry!"
Natsuki shook her head, her annoyance beginning to dissipate as the accidental nature of the collision dawned on her. As vexed as she was, it would not do for her to pick a fight over such an innocent happenstance, much less with someone as easily troubled as Yuri.
"It's fine, it's fine," she grumbled, taking a deep breath so that the initial roughness of her voice would soften up. "I shouldn't have been standing here either."
"No, I should've w-watched where I was going as well," Yuri breathed, wringing her hands together. "I hope I didn't h-hurt you or anything."
Natsuki sighed, looking up at her one more time. Yuri winced, as if she was expecting a blow coming. At that, Natsuki's heart gave a small lurch of pity, seeing how similar Yuri's reaction was to how she would react whenever her father would hit her. Her anger ebbing away completely, she said, "No harm done, so don't worry about it anymore. Anyway, you were going somewhere, right?"
She nodded towards the restrooms. Yuri snapped back to attention. "Oh, y-yes, thank you for reminding me," she said, bowing nervously. "U-Um, if you'll excuse me. . ."
"Go ahead," said Natsuki, standing aside to let her pass unhindered.
As Yuri ran inside the restroom, Natsuki hung back for a while, wondering if she should wait for her so that the two of them could talk. But about what? Natsuki sensed that it might be a pointless gesture in the end. She still had her dilemma to deal with, and she was sure that Yuri had someplace else to go afterwards, and could not afford to be disturbed by the likes of her. Nevertheless, Natsuki chose to stick around, letting her thoughts rest and waiting for Yuri to reemerge. Perhaps it would be a good way to pass the time as she waited for her fears to go and for Daisuke to return. If things became awkward, well . . . there were worse things to worry about.
When Yuri reemerged from the restroom, caressing her left forearm, she stopped as she saw Natsuki. "Going back now?" Natsuki asked her.
"Yes," replied Yuri, her embarrassment at their earlier collision still evident as she gripped her forearm. "B-But I don't have anywhere else to go at the moment, to be honest. Naoki's off helping more of our classmates, and we've already got other classmates working at our booths. Until Naoki gets back, I'm all alone."
"I see." Natsuki glanced back at the field. "I'm waiting as well. For Daisuke, I mean. Anyway, if you don't have anywhere else to go, you can drop by our booths."
"That sounds nice," said Yuri. "But I think it'd be better if Naoki and I went there together. I mean, I w-wouldn't want him to be left out, and he might come looking for me once he gets back. . ."
Natsuki shrugged. "Well, if you don't have anything else to do at the moment, maybe we can just . . . I dunno, talk around here or someplace else."
"Oh, is that okay with you?"
"Yeah. How about you? I mean, I'm not trying to force you to stick around or anything."
"Actually, I think that w-would be nice," said Yuri with a nervous smile. "I've been looking forward to talking to you again, actually."
Natsuki gave her a quizzical look. The sheer coincidence of their thoughts being so similar felt funny to her. "How come?"
Yuri began wringing her hands again. "W-Well, after how things have been going recently, I figured I should be doing it more often. Oh, don't get me wrong, it's not that I'm just b-bored and have no one to talk to. I . . . I just thought it'd be a nice change of pace considering how I used to participate during school events like this. . ."
"Why? How did you do it before?" asked Natsuki.
Yuri hesitated, looking perturbed. "Reading alone someplace quiet, away from . . . f-from everyone else."
Natsuki stared at her for a moment, marveling once again at the parallels they shared in spite of how different they seemed. Somehow, she felt that she had done the right thing sticking around to talk to Yuri.
"Well, if your boyfriend's not gonna come looking for you, you can hang out at our booths in the meantime," she told her. "Did you eat lunch already?"
"N-No, I'm not yet hungry," said Yuri. "I think I'll just wait until Naoki gets back. He might want to have lunch with me and all. . ."
"Alright. Well, if you don't mind, I'm gonna be going back now. Daisuke will be back any moment, and he might end up looking for me if I'm not there. If it's okay with you, you can come with me and wait for your boyfriend there."
"Ah, I see. . ." Yuri paused for a moment, her eyes looking anxiously pensive. "O-Okay, I'll just go with you."
Back at the booths, Daisuke was already waiting. He was handing out some small boxes of prepped meals to their other classmates who had requested him to buy for them at the bazaar. Natsuki broke into a jog once she spotted him, with Yuri following rather tentatively behind. Daisuke looked up at them, grinning.
"Takoyaki and yakisoba, just the way you like it," he said, holding out a box to Natsuki. "Hello there, Yuri!" he added, nodding over at Yuri, who smiled nervously back.
"Thanks, said Natsuki, opening the box and savoring the aroma of freshly cooked noodles for a moment. She would eat behind the booths, safe from anyone who might catch a glimpse of her recovering face. She glanced over at Yuri. "Want some?" she asked her.
"No, it's alright. T-Thank you," said Yuri.
"Have you guys seen Kenta, by the way?" Daisuke asked as he mixed a box of fried rice with a plastic spoon. "He usually drops by early."
"We did, but he went off somewhere else," replied Yuri. "We haven't seen him at our class's booths since."
"Well, maybe he'll drop by soon," Daisuke mused, chewing his first spoonful of fried rice. "Oh, by the way, Mom sent a text earlier," he added, turning towards Natsuki. "She's gonna be dropping by in an hour or so. She just needs to wait for the other helpers at the diner to watch the place in the meantime."
Natsuki felt her dread returning as she remembered what she had been worrying about in the first place. She shot a glance at the boxes of cupcakes stacked on one corner of their booth. "I-Is your sister gonna show up with her?" she asked Daisuke.
"I dunno if Hiroko's still at home, but if she is, she'll definitely tag along," replied Daisuke. "Do you think we should start handing out the cupcakes before they show up, or after?"
"W-Whatever works," said Natsuki, standing up. She felt her knees tremble slightly as her nervousness rose. "Anyway, be right back. I'll just go and eat this. . ."
At the back of the booths, Natsuki let out a long sigh through her face mask, sitting down on one of the spare outdoor chairs her classmates had brought. Alright, focus. You chose to stay, so you're gonna have to deal with it. Besides, it'll be fine. Mrs. Matsuda's a nice woman, and Hiroko's neat too. They already know about the cupcakes. No need to have a panic attack. But as she dwelt on these thoughts, Natsuki remembered everyone else who could drop by their booths. It was an inescapable ordeal, she knew.
Some movement at the corner of her eye made her look up. Once again, Yuri was there, looking at her like a child that had followed her parent with a timid kind of curiosity. Natsuki frowned for a moment at the intrusion before realizing that she had just left Yuri to fend for herself around a class that she was unfamiliar with.
"You sure you don't wanna eat?" she asked her.
Yuri shook her head. "I just remembered that I left my book at our booths. I hope it's still there. . ."
"What book was it?" asked Natsuki, knowing just how it felt to potentially lose such a prized possession.
"T-The one I mentioned to you before. The Portrait of Markov."
"Oh. You're still not done reading that?"
"I'm taking my time. . ." Yuri glanced at the empty seats next to Natsuki, but she did not move from her spot.
Natsuki nodded towards the seat next to her. "Go ahead. No one else is here anyway."
Yuri looked surprised for a moment. "Oh, I see. T-Thank you."
As she sat down opposite her, Natsuki began wondering if it was okay to take off her face mask to eat. Her stomach was starting to clamor for food, but she had never eaten with anyone other than Daisuke around ever since her face had been injured. Yuri was different from her other classmates, Natsuki knew, but the silent lavender-haired beauty was still a stranger when it came to the part of her life that only she and Daisuke knew. Then again, Yuri was also as nice as anyone she had met, and though she was often intimidated by social interactions, Natsuki saw nothing from her that gave away any signs that she was more mean-spirited than she had initially believed.
When her stomach growled again, Natsuki knew that it had to be done. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and removed her face mask. She immediately noticed the way Yuri's eyebrows flicked upwards in surprise, as if she had not been expecting to see traces of bruising at her cheeks; after all, it was only the bruise on her eye that Yuri had spotted before. Not wanting to address the obvious on an empty stomach, Natsuki focused her gaze on her food.
She was five minutes into eating when Yuri dared to break the silence between them. "Do you think winter will be cold this year?"
Natsuki looked at her, surprised that someone as deep as Yuri would actually go for a topic as stereotypically casual as the weather. "I dunno. However cold it'll be, though, I'm not a fan."
"Oh, how come?"
"The smaller you are, the faster you'll freeze. I mean, look at me."
Yuri nodded. "Ah, I understand. I like it, though." When Natsuki shot her a look, she quickly rallied as she noticed just how her words sounded. "N-Not you, of course! I meant winter. W-Winter, yes."
Natsuki chuckled. "Yeah, I can see why you'd love winter. Quiet time, at least until the holidays roll in."
"Yes, exactly," said Yuri, seemingly relieved that she had understood her. Natsuki noticed that she was shifting again into that confident self that often came out when she spoke about something she liked. "It does take a toll on Grandmother – I mean, at her age, it's hard not to be worn down by the cold, yes? But other than that, it's a perfect time to just wind down at the end of the day with a hot cup of tea or a steaming bowl of okayu, with a good book in front of you or a pen and some paper."
Natsuki looked at her, digesting the simple profundity of her words. "That . . . actually sounds nice, yeah." Not wanting to discourage Yuri, she racked her brain for another topic.
"So you're, um . . . you're still writing?" she asked.
"Ah, n-not as often as I think I should," said Yuri, her confidence hitting a snag for a moment. "Sometimes, I don't have the drive for it, and sometimes I just end up forgetting to write. Hopefully, the festival can help me with that."
"Help you? What do you mean?"
"Oh, give me certain topics or themes that I can write about, I mean. It's usually like that. When something makes me think or feel, I often set it aside and see if I can write something out of it. A haiku, a longer poem, a descriptive paragraph, it all depends on my train of thought. Scenes like the festival can be a treasure trove of ideas for that, if you're willing to look."
"I see. So . . ." Natsuki looked around, beckoning carelessly at their surroundings with her plastic fork. "Is there anything here that's giving you any ideas?"
Yuri pondered for a moment, her beautiful face looking pensive once again as her eyes traveled slowly, taking in the sights. Natsuki watched her closely, wondering just what it is that she might be thinking and glancing around at what she was looking at in case she could figure it out as well.
All of a sudden, Yuri spoke in a clear but gentle tone.
"To take those chances,
And find one's joy in the sun,
In autumn's embrace."
Natsuki swallowed her food slowly, looking on with a mixture of awe and incredulity. Five-seven-five. A haiku. That Yuri was able to make one on the spot surprised her even more, even if she knew it was to be expected given how intellectual and insightful Yuri seemed to be in spite of her introversion.
Feeling her gaze upon her, Yuri tensed in her seat. "I'm sorry. It's just . . . just something I thought of as quickly as I could," she said timidly. "I mean, hopefully you g-get the idea now of . . . of how I t-tend to write and all that."
"Yeah, I think I get it now," said Natsuki. "It's . . . actually pretty cool, not gonna lie."
Yuri gave her a rueful smile. "T-Thank you."
Silence fell between them again. Finding nothing else to say for the moment, Yuri looked elsewhere, watching students pass by. As she chewed another mouthful of yakisoba, Natsuki considered things for a moment. Her mind was racing, trying to move along the same observant, imaginative wavelength that Yuri had. Though the topic of poetry was not something that often crossed her mind, the casual and almost leisurely way Yuri went about it, along with her obvious knowledge at wordplay, had made her more curious than she had anticipated. After all, is it not true that the themes Yuri mentioned were also found in the myriad of colorful topics and slice-of-life situations that Natsuki knew and loved in all the manga she read?
"I think I'm gonna try that out for myself."
The words were out before Natsuki could even reconsider. Yuri looked back at her, her eyebrows raised. "W-What do you mean?" she asked.
"Poetry," Natsuki replied. "Writing. All that jazz. I know I was just saying 'what-ifs' before, but . . . well, the way you make it out to be, it sounds neat and all. I mean, it's not the first time I considered writing, with all the fanfic ideas I pick up from the manga I read . . . but I've never considered doing it in, like, the same kind of way you do. Like I said, pretty cool."
Yuri nodded. "I see. . . Well, it is worth the try, but it can be tricky if you strive for a certain style. I mean, t-there are always new things to learn about writing, and like I've mentioned before, the inspiration for it doesn't exactly come as often as one would like."
"Maybe, but you live and you learn, right? And as for the inspiration part, it'll still come around eventually." Natsuki shrugged. "I'm just gonna see what happens. Write a few lines, pitch a few ideas to myself, that kind of stuff. Who knows? Maybe I'll turn out to be a natural like you in the end."
"I wouldn't exactly call m-myself a natural," said Yuri, her face flushing a little.
Natsuki let out an amused chortle. "There's no need to be shy. If you've got the talent, show it, right?"
"Well, it d-depends on the kind of talent you have, but yes. I guess it m-makes sense."
"Right? And yeah, it makes you nervous at first, but . . . you just have to own it."
And at that, even as her thoughts wandered back to her initial worries, Natsuki found that she was no longer as panicky as she was earlier. Some nervousness still lingered, of course, but the overwhelming feeling of failure and dread had passed her by, helped on by the unexpected but welcome company provided by Yuri. Far be it for Natsuki to verbally show her sincere gratitude to Yuri at the moment—such expressions feeling incredibly awkward if she directed them at anyone except Daisuke—but she showed her thanks nonetheless in the form of a smile. Yuri smiled back, and Natsuki sensed then that perhaps she also felt the same way.
Daisuke came around when she had finished eating her lunch. He looked both excited and nervous. "Time to bring out the cupcakes, don't you think?"
Natsuki felt her heartbeat rise. This time, however, she felt readier. "Those aren't for dessert, you know?" she told him bluntly.
"I know, I know. The others wanna start serving them now to the visitors."
Natsuki eyed Yuri, who seemed hesitant to speak her mind in this brief exchange. Treating it as a sign of the inevitable to come, she put on her face mask and set aside her finished lunch.
"Alright, let's do this."
Kenta stood pondering for a moment. The sight had buried itself in his eyes, and as innocent as it seemed if digested without any context, his thoughts still began rising almost inexorably about it. The hours before lunchtime had gone by quite normally, and Kenta had fun going with his classmates around the open field. From knocking down stacks of cans to shooting toy arrows through suspended hoops of varying sizes, they transitioned to watching skits being acted out by costumed schoolmates, laughing and singing along with the music that accompanied everything else. After spending the first couple of hours doing so, Kenta soon began looking for Monika, hoping to run into her somewhere on the open field or near the school buildings in order to share the festivities with her. It was a thought that seemed to go against what he had been dwelling on for the past couple of days.
The words had lingered long after he had moved on from the date, and even from Monika's troubled disposition. Kenta knew that someone as vibrant as her would be able to bounce back from her woes and start again strong, but as much as he wanted to join her again and accompany her as she recovered from the stress she was enduring, her mother's words stood before him like an impenetrable brick wall. Never before had he encountered such an explicit, blunt warning—for what else could it be? Mrs. Steinbeck was no stranger to dealing with trouble, as Kenta deduced from her obvious no-nonsense nature, and he was certain that she found him well within her crosshairs when it came to sensing trouble. Kenta had wondered for a while about what tipped her off. A confession from an employee at the Steinbeck household, questioned under duress by Monika's parents? Some text messages uncovered from Monika's phone while she was not around? A few hints from Monika herself, even? The more Kenta guessed, the more he surmised that perhaps Mrs. Steinbeck was just too intuitive to let her daughter's relationship with someone pass. Nonetheless, with his mood running high, he had hoped to find Monika and spend the rest of the day in happiness with her, choosing to worry about the obstacle in their path at another time.
Or at least, that was the plan anyway, until he saw Monika sitting with none other than Takeo at a quiet spot near the gym. Just like that, the sight of them had sent Kenta's newfound enthusiasm plummeting to earth in a fiery crash.
Kenta kept wandering along, trudging down the avenue of booths created around the open field. For ten minutes he had been walking in silence, feeling no drive to seek out anything else to do. It was a far cry from his mood earlier. Strangely, though, even with the thoughts he was having, he did not feel angry, frustrated or even sad. There was no jealousy there, no thought of ire that provoked him to rush forth and have a little debate of his own with the snotty vice president as he sat there chatting with Monika. Instead, only one thing buried itself in his head with seeming infallibility, with the proof of that being supplied by the sight of Monika and Takeo sitting together: that if he wanted to spare Monika any more trouble at home, he would have to honor what her mother had demanded of him. Takeo's presence did not matter, nor would it matter even if it was someone else Monika was sitting with, like one of the silent admirers she had that had talked trash behind his back before. No, it was Monika's worries at school and at home that stood out more, his jealousy and longing be damned. The way Monika had acted during their time at the Cocoa Connection had told him a lot of the stress she was under, and of how she could not even share it openly without needing some time alone to recover afterwards. Even as she said later on that everything was going to be alright, Kenta sensed that she was still more burdened than she would like to admit, and he knew that any antics from his end would just aggravate her further, and it was the worst thing in the world for him to see disappointment and frustration once again in Monika's dazzling green eyes as she gazed upon him. Mrs. Steinbeck would be proven right, and Monika would end up being admonished more at home for being distracted by his continued presence in her life. Perhaps that was why anger or dejection played no part in his reactions; the truth of the situation had simply goaded him into feeling a sort of empty resignation about it all, to suck it all up and keep going without complaints or questions, helped along by what he had seen. And amid that resignation, there was guilt, the guilt of knowing that he had chosen to keep his silence and not tell Monika about her mother's words; and the guilt that in spite of his choice to start avoiding her, he could not stop his heart from longing for her.
His mood steeped in silent emptiness, Kenta wandered around for a few more minutes until he settled down at a bench next to the school's main building. Only then did he realize that in his search for Monika, his friends had chosen to move on without him. He had yet to see Naoki again somewhere in the jungle of booths and bodies on the open field, or visit Daisuke at their booths for the cupcakes that Naoki had told him about.
It was not until he saw Akihiro's familiar visage in the distance that he perked up a little, as if his mind clung onto the sight of a good friend during a time of hollowness like an oasis for the parched. He waved his hand and called out. "Hey, Akihiro!"
It took him a few tries before Akihiro recognized his voice over the din. His green eyes lit up with something akin to relief as he saw Kenta. "Hey there!" he greeted back, jogging towards him on the bench. Kenta noticed that he seemed to be wearing a purple sash of some sort over his uniform, adorned with some cardboard cutouts made to look like medals and crests.
"How's everything? You looked decked out for something there," he asked, nodding at the sash.
"Oh, this is for our scavenger hunt," said Akihiro, tugging at the sash. "I'm playing as a hint-giver for the participants. Nudge them in the general direction with a few clues if they get stumped, that's all.
"That sounds like the perfect time to mess with people," said Kenta with a chuckle. "Tell them the next place they'll need to stop by is downtown, that sort of stuff."
"I'm tempted," said Akihiro, laughing with him. "So, where have you been so far? With Monika? With the rest of the guys?"
Kenta sobered up at the mention of Monika's name. "Just a few of my classmates. Naoki might've already drowned somewhere in there, and Daisuke's at the booths helping out."
"I see." At that, Akihiro also tensed up, as if Kenta's change of mood had gotten to him as well. Kenta looked again at the festival proceedings, not knowing what else to say. Up above them, the sound system played lively songs that seemed to mock their sudden seriousness.
"You okay, man?" asked Akihiro.
At that, Kenta faked a quick smile. "Never better, brother. I'm just . . . I dunno what else to do, to be honest."
"Well, we can all lounge around after the festival. You, Monika, Sayori and the others," said Akihiro. Kenta felt his heart sag a bit more as he heard Monika's name again.
"Speaking of Sayori, you didn't happen to run into her out here just yet, did you?" Akihiro added.
Kenta looked up, noticing the worried tone in his voice as he spoke. "No, I don't think so. What's up?"
"I . . . I haven't seen her all day." Akihiro looked around anxiously, as if he was expecting to see Sayori running towards him then and there. "She hasn't been replying to my messages and calls at all. I don't know, maybe she's just pranking me or something, but I'm sure she'd have shown up by this time."
"Oh, maybe she forgot her phone at her place or something?" Kenta proffered, wondering if this might be something potentially bad. "And maybe she's . . . busy with her classmates or . . . Nah, she'd have to show up to talk to you, at least."
"I know, right? I'm thinking of going to her place to see if she's still there," said Akihiro. "I dunno if I can, though. I mean, I'm already standing in for our scavenger race. . ."
"I'm sure it'll be fine," said Kenta. "I mean, with tons of people around, I don't think anyone'll notice that you went out. Why don't you go for it?"
Akihiro heaved a sigh. "Do you think it's a good idea?"
"Hey, your concern for Sayori takes priority over the festival, alright?" said Kenta reassuringly. "If you wanna make sure she's okay, no one should be stopping you. Besides, what if she actually isn't okay? Oh, not that I want you to think she is, of course! I mean, it's just . . . y'know, a what-if. If she hasn't been in contact with anyone since this morning . . ."
Upon seeing Akihiro shift his feet restlessly where he stood, Kenta shook his head. "No, not a good thing to say. I'm sorry about that. I don't want you to be worried sick or anything, man."
"No, it's fine, bro. I've been thinking about that too," said Akihiro. "I mean, I don't wanna think about it too much, but—"
"Go for it, man," Kenta interrupted. "You'll only end up being distracted and worrying if you keep trying to guess where she is. It's better if you check up on her now. Besides, even if she's just fine, she'd appreciate the concern, I'm sure."
After hesitating for a few moments, his face scrunched up with worry and conflict, Akihiro looked towards the school gates. "You're right," he said. "I'm gonna go check on her."
Kenta gave him a thumbs-up. "There we go. And don't worry too much about leaving for a bit, alright? You've got a perfectly good reason to go, so no one should blame you for it. Anyone who tries, they'll hear from me, and I don't care if I'm from a different class. I got your back."
"A-Are you sure about that?"
"Hundred percent."
Akihiro gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks, man."
With that, he set off, hurrying past the press of people as he sidestepped and pushed through them. Kenta wanted to get up and go after him, to accompany him in his short journey to Sayori's place, if only to gain some extended reprieve from his own worries. However, the time for that had passed, and now that he was alone again, he soon found himself thinking of Monika once more. He wondered again what she and Takeo might have talked about and whether she would notice that he was starting to steer clear of her if he could help it. Kenta felt bitterness form in his mouth as the lies and hiding endured. Perhaps in the end, he would see disappointment in Monika's eyes again, and go through the pain of knowing that such a reaction was brought by his own doing a second time around.
It was a quarter past two when he decided to pick himself up and go over to 3-D's side of the festival, where Daisuke and Natsuki were. As he walked, the sound system on the open field began playing a new song, with the preliminary notes being played with a piano. As he looked up and listened in to the song's mellow melody, he remembered Monika sitting at her piano at her home. He remembered part of the song she had sung to him before, and his light-hearted jest of having her play for the festival. As he stood there listening for a moment, Kenta wondered if Monika was hearing the song as well, and if she was remembering the same things he was. Sighing, he shook his head and kept walking towards Class 3-D's booths.
Daisuke could sense the intensity emanating from Natsuki as they brought out the first boxes of cupcakes. He shared her nervousness privately, knowing full well the part he had played in both the baking and in convincing Natsuki in the first place to bake. As nervous as he felt, Daisuke knew he would have to see it through, surmising that his presence would help alleviate Natsuki's worries, and he was prepared to get punched in the arm a hundred times if it meant helping Natsuki feel more confident about the choice he had convinced her to make.
Right before the cupcake giving officially began, Naoki arrived at their booths, carrying with him a hardbound book. Daisuke waved at him, grinning.
"Perfect timing you've got there, man," he said cheerily.
"Cupcake time already, huh?" asked Naoki, smiling back. "Oh, that reminds me. Did you guys see Yuri, by any chance?"
"Yep, she's actually here with us," replied Daisuke, jabbing his thumb towards the back of the booths. "I think she ran into Natsuki earlier, and then she went with her here."
"Great! I've been looking everywhere for her. She left her book at our booths," said Naoki, holding up the book he was carrying. "I guess we'll just stay here for a while before we go back. So, do we actually get a cupcake for visiting?"
"Pop enough balloons over there and you'll each get two," said Daisuke, nodding at their balloon pop display.
"Now that's a nice little prospect indeed. Oh, there you are, Yuri!"
Daisuke turned around to see Yuri and Natsuki returning to the scene from behind the booths. Natsuki looked both resigned and focused as she spotted the box of cupcakes that Daisuke had let out. Meanwhile, Yuri smiled as soon as she saw Naoki.
"Naoki here says you left your book behind," Daisuke asked her.
"Oh, yes! Good thing you found it b-before anyone else did," said Yuri, taking the book from Naoki. "Thank you, Naoki," she added, blushing.
"It's nothing," said Naoki affably, and Daisuke stifled a chuckle as he saw his cheeks turn slightly pink as well.
"So, are you two gonna try out the balloons for a twofer?" he asked them.
"Sure, I'll take you up on that," replied Naoki, walking over to the balloon pop display with Yuri hurrying right beside him. "Let's just hope my aim's not as bad as my eyesight is."
"Ah, you'll probably do fine," said Daisuke, laughing. As some of his classmates gave Naoki a few darts with which to pop the balloons, he turned around to glance at Natsuki, who seemed to be concentrating deeply with a grim look on her face.
"You okay?" he asked.
Natsuki shot him a look. "I'm fine," she hissed. "Is your mom here y-yet?"
"I dunno. She hasn't texted me again just yet. Maybe she'll just show up." Daisuke gave her an encouraging smile. "Don't worry. I'm pretty scared too."
"I'm not scared," Natsuki snapped. "Make sure that you give those out, you don't smudge the icing against the box, okay?! I don't want anyone getting any cupcakes with messy designs."
"Yes, ma'am," said Daisuke, laughing. "Hey, I'm not trying to make fun of you or anything, okay?" he added quickly as Natsuki glared at him again. "I'm just trying to lighten things up. Keeps our nerves calm, y'know? It's better than panicking, after all."
"Alright, alright," Natsuki grumbled, picking up another of the cupcake boxes. "Just don't screw anything up."
Naoki soon returned from the balloon pop display. "Four out of six popped. I guess that means no twofer for both of us?" he asked, laughing.
"Afraid so," said Daisuke, laughing with him as he set out the box before him. He leaned forward and added in a quieter tone, "We're gonna be giving out the rest randomly, but you get to choose which ones you'll get. Our compliments. Don't tell the others." He glanced around at Natsuki, who gave him her silent approval with a short nod. "So what'll it be? Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry or orange cream?"
"Oh, those look really nice," said Naoki, adjusting his eyeglasses as he perused the box of cupcakes. "Orange cream sounds like a fresh change compared to chocolate or vanilla, though. . . Yep, I think I'll go with that one. How about you, Yuri?"
"S-Strawberry, if you don't mind," Yuri told them, looking at the strawberry cream cupcakes with a small gleam in her eyes.
"Here you go," said Daisuke, handing out the cupcakes at them one at a time. "If anyone asks where you got them, make sure you point them in the right direction!"
"We definitely will," said Naoki, saluting with his free hand. "We'll see you guys later, hopefully. Cheers!"
"T-Thanks," Natsuki joined in rather half-heartedly. Yuri nodded at her, her smile expressing her wordless thanks.
Slowly and gradually, more students began filing in to have a look at their booths, as if Naoki and Yuri had indeed spread the word that there were prizes and cupcakes to be had at 3-D's side of the field. Some chose to buy some of the home-made crafts that their other classmates had made with some complimentary cupcakes to go with them, with the proceeds going to their class funds, while a few tried to test their luck at popping balloons like Naoki did for the chance to score more than two. All the while, Daisuke stayed by Natsuki's side, making sure that she did not feel left alone as she observed the comings and goings of the booth visitors, handing out cupcakes with him. Beneath her mask, her face was unfathomable, and Daisuke had to wonder what her sentiments were as she watched for the visitors' reactions regarding her cupcakes. Some of those who tasted the cupcakes on the spot voiced out only praises and surprise at the flavor and consistency, and though Daisuke stopped himself from prodding Natsuki about it with glee, he felt proud knowing that such praise came from their combined efforts.
His mother arrived at a quarter past two, all smiles in a simple white blouse with a matching black line skirt. Daisuke met her at the gates and escorted her back to their booths, where she met Natsuki with a cheerful air.
"Hello, Natsuki! I hope I wasn't too late in showing up," said his mother as soon as she reached the booths.
"N-Not really, Mrs. Matsuda," said Natsuki. Her unease seemed to return at her arrival, but she nodded cordially nonetheless. "You arrived at a perfect time, to be honest."
"I sure hope so. Hiroko couldn't make it, though – a gathering with her friends from work, she told me." As Daisuke moved back inside the booths, his mother looked around at their wares and displays. "Oh, my! All these look really nice. Are those the banners you made, Dai?"
"Yep," said Daisuke, smiling as he looked up at his handiwork draped over the booths.
"Maybe you should make one for the diner soon. It'd be nice to have a bit more color at the front door like this. Your sister can pitch in a few slogans and whatnot."
"Yeah, maybe I can do that. The ol' wooden sign at the front does seem pretty outdated already. . ."
At that moment, another familiar face appeared in the distance – red hair, tall build, with a basketball jersey beneath his blazer. Daisuke perked up as he saw him. "Oy, Kenta!" he called out. "About time you showed up!"
Kenta grinned as he approached, though Daisuke noticed a heavy look behind his eyes that seemed out of place. Nevertheless, when Kenta spoke, his voice seemed as energetic and boisterous as ever, and the heaviness seemed to dissipate almost instantaneously.
"You could've seen me a lot earlier if we went to school together like I asked last night, you little dolt!" he joked. However, his mirth was soon replaced by embarrassment as he noticed Daisuke's mother. "Oh, g-good afternoon, Mrs. Matsuda!" he greeted, laughing sheepishly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to . . . you know . . ."
Daisuke laughed alongside his mother. "That's okay, Kenta. In all your years of knowing each other, I don't think that's the worst name I've heard you call Daisuke," she said in good humor. "It's good to see you. Are you going to play?"
She nodded at his jersey. "Oh, not really, ma'am," said Kenta in reply, staring down at his attire. "Just thought I'd get a bit more comfortable for today. I mean, a lot of us are in costumes and stuff, so I figured a jersey won't get me into any trouble."
"Oh, I see."
"Ah, it's the festival, for crying out loud," said Daisuke. "You can bounce around in a curly wig and a penguin suit and no one would say anything. Anyway, do you want a cupcake? Only one, though – we can't have you chowing down on five at a time or else there'll be none left for our other visitors."
"Cupcakes?" asked Kenta blankly for a moment. "Oh, so these are the ones Naoki mentioned earlier, right?"
"Oh, so Naoki told you about them, did he? Yeah, these are the ones. If you want one, just buy all of our crafts and you'll get it."
"Do I look like I have that much money on me, you d—sorry, Mrs. Matsuda."
Daisuke chortled. "Of course I'm joking, you big lug. But like I said, only one cupcake!"
In the end, Kenta settled for a chocolate cupcake, declining Daisuke's challenge to try out his antics at their balloon pop festival for two. His mother, on the other hand, chose a strawberry cream one as she bought two cardboard figurines of a cat and a mouse that their classmates had made, musing how cute they would look decorating their front counter at the diner. All the while, Natsuki kept herself occupied—and distracted from her worries, Daisuke knew—as she replaced some of the popped balloons at their display. Daisuke smiled to himself as he watched her work, wishing that the day would end on a high note for her and everyone else who had their own private woes to deal with once the festivities came to an end.