Chapter Thirty-Four
Tendou stood in a blind panic. His worst fears were coming to life, and as he watched Karin stroll for the doors, he saw his last chance at subversion drawing to a close. The courtyard was the only thing that stood between the disciplinary committee and the art club, and soon, Hanamura and the others would be dragged out to face punishment, stripped of their rights, and worse; branded with the scarlet letter of disobedience for the rest of their lives. Tendou's mind jumped into hyperdrive, his thoughts traveling faster than the speed of light as he assessed the situation.
Your restlessness will soon find its match in the approaching storm. To claim what you desire, you must enter the tempest and slay the dangerous foe that lurks there. Only then will you discover the truth.
Tendou sucked in a breath. Cold metal dug into his skin. Blinking rapidly, he realized Saito's keys were still looped on his finger.
"WAIT! STOP!" he shouted, feeling the words rip from his throat. "I have a confession to make!"
The disciplinary committee paused at the door, turning around slowly.
"For crying out loud," Goro protested. "What now?"
Karin glanced over her shoulder. It was all Tendou needed. With her attention momentarily sidetracked, he offered his soul to the devil in exchange for a diversion. Flitting his gaze across the gym, he settled on the one person who had proven most resourceful this evening.
"Yunohama," he barked, "show them the thing!"
Yunohama peered at him dazedly. "Err…the what?"
"You know, the thing. In the equipment room," Tendou repeated with a flash of his eyes and a jerk of his chin. "The secrety-secret thing. The thing we've been hiding from everyone!"
"Oh…," Yunohama murmured as he quickly put the pieces together. "You mean…that thing?"
Yunohama scratched his neck, another shorthand signal they had developed in bootcamp to indicate an ambush. That motion, when coupled with a shirt tug and a single eye-squint, spelled out total sabotage. The disciplinary committee might have found Yunohama a little dopey at that moment, but the rest of the volleyball team grew stern. It was a plea for war.
Tendou nodded. "Yes. That thing."
"What're you two going on about? We don't have time for games!" Goro snapped impatiently. "If you have something to say then spit it out!"
Tendou faced Goro, causing the boy to jolt in alarm as he spread his arms wide.
"You know…for all your cleverness, you failed to remember one itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny little thing," he drawled, pressing his thumb and forefinger together to drive the point home. Karin lost some of the certainty in her expression as she peered at him, confused. She was taken aback. Clearly, she thought she had outsmarted him earlier and fully expected to leave him dumbfounded. But the Guess Monster was in a class of deviancy all of his own. The kind that burned brightest in the dark. Bright fluorescent chaos.
He grinned.
"Any trickster worth their salt never keeps their eggs in one basket. Case in point–" he strolled across the gym, the court jester coming to life in all his brilliance as he posed near the net. Lifting his chin, Tendou turned absolutely antagonistic. "The costumes were only part of my grand plan. You see, the real finale – the part that'll have everyone blown away in amazement – is in the back."
Everyone reacted to his declaration. His choice of words was alarming. Even their captain who had remained docile on the floor until now peered up at Tendou shrewdly.
"Is he talking about fireworks?" Nishioka hedged.
Goro gasped. "WRONGDOER! That goes against school policy! You need a special permit for those!"
"Is this true?" Karin asked Yunohama. "He's been storing explosives in the gym?"
Glancing between Karin and Tendou, Yunohama gave a noncommittal shrug.
Karin remained doubtful, yet a bit of excitement seeped through her gaze. She was greedy. Tendou could practically feel her desire to take down not one villain, but two. She wanted the whole set to sit behind bars, even if it meant dismantling the volleyball club. All she needed was evidence.
"Well, how romantic. So, you wish to join Hanamura in suspension after all? Far be it from me to keep you two apart." With a jerk of her chin, the disciplinary committee circled Yunohama.
"Show us," she demanded.
Goro motioned for his deputies to follow while the volleyball team loomed awkwardly on the court. Nishioka was folded in with the rest of the committee, clutching his clipboard.
"Go on then," Tendou urged Yunohama.
Yunohama stood in front of the equipment room, his demeanor transformed into that of a thief caught red-handed. He beckoned the disciplinary committee inside with a wince, his hands making slow motions. "Follow me," he said in a hushed tone, "and watch your step. It's a mine field in here."
Intrigued, the committee members followed him into the room, their curiosity piqued by his strange comment. Once inside, Yunohama continued to play his part, leading them to the very back of the room. "Do you see them?" He whispered dramatically. "Over there in the corner?"
"Where?" said Karin exasperatedly.
Tendou tossed the gym keys to Semi who caught them deftly. With a swift, confident motion, Semi locked the equipment room doors, sealing Yunohama, Nishioka, and the disciplinary committee inside. Tendou spun around to face the others.
"Phones! Phones! Who has a phone? We're in a goddam crisis!"
"I can run and get mine!" Jin offered.
"Not fast enough. I need to warn them! NOW."
"Well, what do we do?" Semi asked. "Their bound to know something's up now!"
"Can you run and deliver them a message?"
"And confirm Karin's suspicions? No," said Tendou with a swipe of his hands. "None of us can leave! Otherwise, she'll know the art club is guilty."
"So, what do we do?"
Tendou's mind launched into warp speed again. His thoughts spiraled in several directions at once as he played out different scenarios, but the competing thoughts proved too difficult to sort out. He blamed it on the hunger, the exhaustion, the delirium of the last hour, but no matter how hard he tried to endure his mind was coming up blank. His intuition was impeded by his increasing fear for Hanamura's safety.
Shouts erupted behind the locked doors.
"Hey! What's the meaning of this! Open this door right now!"
Whistles started blowing again.
"Whoops," Semi called out loudly. "Forgot this door locks from the outside. Hang tight, we'll get the keys."
He shot Tendou a panicked look.
Tendou flexed his fingers. He knew it would be academic suicide to trap so many students in there overnight. But if he let them go free, there was no chance of the art club escaping punishment. He couldn't come up with a clean solution. Just when it seemed like all hope was lost, Ushijima stepped forward, his stoic expression unwavering.
He strolled purposefully toward the gym doors, his eyes fixed on the control panel for the overhead drum lights. To those watching, it appeared that he was about to do something inexplicable. He raised both index fingers, a solemn gesture that drew the attention of the bewildered volleyball team.
With deliberate precision, Ushijima began flicking the light switches in a sequence that made no sense to anyone else. The lights above responded obediently by shutting off and then flickering back on with a fluorescent hiss. It was a strange and vastly out of character thing for Ushijima to do. The others exchanged puzzled looks.
"Uh…what's he doing?" Reon asked.
Tendou nearly fainted. He could have fallen to his knees and kissed the ground; he was so elated.
"MORSE CODE!" He gasped, clutching his hair as he broke into insane laughter. "Ushiwaka, you're a GENIUS! Why didn't I think of that? Quick! Quick! Open the doors!" He bellowed to the others. "He's sending them a message!"
At his behest, Reon and Semi pried the doors both wide open, spilling bright light out onto the darkened courtyard. A crisp chill entered the gym and from their place, they could see the main building. The art studio was on the top floor above the shade tree, light and shadows moving behind a row of bedsheets that had been taped at the windows. A small triangle near the corner had been left uncovered.
"Ushijima, you know Morse code?" Reon asked the ace curiously.
"Ah."
"That's great and all," said Semi, "but doesn't it require someone to understand on the other end?"
"Don't worry, we do. Look!"
Tendou pointed to the redhead at the break in the bedsheets. Asano was reaching for something at her workspace, doing a small jig as if she were listening to music. Tendou stared at her with wide eyes, attuning all of his senses to capture her attention. Look at me, look at me, look at me, he chanted fervently. Look at me, look at me, LOOK-AT-ME! Surprisingly, it worked. Asano glanced up and, peering through the window curiously, she pressed her face against the glass. Then, in a second, she was gone.
"Come on, Reiko," Tendou pleaded.
No sooner had the words left his mouth that she reappeared, this time dragging a flustered Akiko along with her. Together, the sisters climbed onto the windowsill and stared down at the gym, Asano mouthing something urgently to Akiko as Akiko procured a pair of binoculars that were still fastened around a boy's neck.
"Fire away Ushiwaka!" Tendou said to Ushijima. "Send them a warning! Hurry!"
"Ah."
The gym lights continued to strobe as they all waited in the doorway.
. . . . . . . . . . .
"Are you sure you guys are okay?" Hanamura asked the science club. "How bad was it really?"
They were all crowded around the worktable. Rumi was sitting with her feet up, posturing like a thug. Plucking the cherry sucker from her mouth, she twirled it between her fingers. Her lab coat was stained a bright green that smelled faintly of Sulphur, no doubt remnants of the Rainbow Flame Demonstration from earlier that afternoon. One hair bun was loose and hanging limply at her ear.
"We each got slapped with a week's worth of detention," she said, "and the science club is officially banned from meeting for the rest of the year. Big deal." She shrugged her shoulders. "The main thing is that Oshiro wasn't implicated, and neither were any of our supplies taken."
"Just my diamonds," said Tomiko.
Matsu and Shizue patted her shoulders consolingly.
Hanamura chewed her lip. She wasted no time in telling everyone what happened the moment they got back from town. The science lab had indeed been raided, but the disciplinary committee had come up empty-handed thanks to the quick work of Kinji and the others. The diversion had given them enough time to stash their supplies behind the ceiling tiles in Mrs. Oshiro's office. But now, they were at a critical juncture as everything had been brought inside the studio to be finished that evening.
As to be expected, the studio was a mad house. They were all working urgently, the room a chaotic mess of projects half-finished and underway. Tashima was roaming around with clipboard in hand, barking orders and coordinating teams as she watched the clock like a hawk.
It was an enormous effort.
Joining them that evening were the theater seamstresses who were aiding Asano in sewing costumes and ponchos. Fukuhara was working closely behind a canvas screen where the art club was welding cable wire together with a soldering torch. The science club was using the sink to mix chemical compounds, and Izakaya was at his pottery wheel, mixing large vats of latex paint with a wooden spoon. Unfortunately, Ryu and a few of the marching band members were also present, circling the studio like vultures waiting for their moment to swoop in on Hanamura. It was for this very reason that the cheer squad appeared, offering their protection as her personal bodyguards.
"Guys, I'm so sorry," said Hanamura, staring at the table in remorse. A bag of frozen carrots was draped over her knees to bring down the swelling. The adrenaline of the afternoon had yet to subside, but she was starting to feel groggy. "This is all my fault. I feel terrible."
"Don't," Rumi urged her with a smile. "We have no regrets. This is war after all. They haven't taken our freedom. Not yet. We're still moving forward as planned. Right guys?"
The science club nodded in solidarity.
"Why would they raid you though," Hanamura pressed with a frown. "It doesn't make any sense."
"You know what else doesn't make sense, trash girl?" Ryu griped from the end of the table. "Being denied an audience even though I'm your first ally!"
"Stand down, Hara," Kazane warned coolly.
"Maybe if you played nice from the start, you wouldn't be in such a predicament," said Rumi.
"Do you want to know what I think?" Ryu snapped, directing his ire at Hanamura. "I think this whole thing was doomed to fail the moment you destroyed my music! You've angered the gods, and now they seek revenge."
Kazane stood from her seat next to Hanamura, peering at the marching band director with her piercing black eyes. "I said that will do, Hara. Or shall I remind you what happens when you indulge in name-calling?"
He shrank back behind his assistant Mika who was sitting at the table with a glib expression on her face.
"President Watanabe excused herself early from the council meeting. I assumed it was because she was fed up with the proceedings," said Kazane, "but now I'm wondering if this wasn't a calculated move on her part…Someone tipped her off."
"She's gone rogue," Makoto agreed. "I've never seen the disciplinary committee this active."
Her words lingered in the air with an unpleasantness that none of them wished to address. Hanamura's eyes remained downcast. Condensation began to drip from the bag of carrots and onto the floor.
"Uh…Suzume, we got a problem," Asano called out. "You better come over here quick!"
Hanamura glanced up and found Asano and her sister crouched on the windowsill, Kazuki straining beside them. Akiko was clutching a pair of binoculars that were still looped around his throat. The robotics engineer was perspiring, his face a deep crimson as he was forced to huddle dangerously close to his class representative. Asano held back a drape for a better view of the courtyard below.
"Why? What's going on?" As Hanamura moved closer, she noticed the flashing of lights from outside.
It was then that Akiko gasped.
"Oh dear! It's an S.O.S!" She announced in a panic. "Something about an ambush." she stopped short, covering her mouth in shock. "It's the disciplinary committee! The volleyball team's holding them hostage in the gym. They mean to come raid us!"
"WHAT?"
The news traveled through the room like wildfire, causing everyone to drop what they were doing and gather at the windows. Hanamura was hoisted up onto the windowsill to settle between Asano and Akiko as they all peered down into the gym.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
"Jesus Christ, how many of them are up there?" said Jin in awe.
Thirty faces pressed against the glass, and they were able to pick out multiple clubs amid the darkened silhouettes gazing down at them through the windows. Tendou was quick to spot Hanamura and his heart twinged with pain as he caught the unmistakable fear spread across her face.
"Quick, tell them they need to evacuate. As quickly as possible." He urged Ushijima. "The committee is operating on intelligence from the whistle blower. They have to disband now!"
"Ah."
Ushijima took his task with great urgency, flicking on and off the gym lights in a deliberate sequence. At the same time, the rest of the team eyed the equipment room fearfully.
. . . . . . . . . . .
"Whistle blower?" Akiko retracted from the window, horrified. "So it's true! Someone's been leaking information on us to the student police."
Asano spun away from the windows.
"Alright, who's the disgusting piece of trash who's been ratting us out?" She asked the room. "Show yourself, you coward!"
Everyone looked at Izakaya.
"What? Hey! It wasn't me!" He griped in protest, gripping his wooden spoon indignantly. "Why does everyone think it's me?"
"Well if it wasn't the angry parakeet, who was it?" Ryu demanded of the group.
A smug laugh broke the silence.
"It was me," said a delicate voice. "I was the one who sold you to the disciplinary committee! I'm your mole."
Everyone spun around, their gazes landing on the small, unassuming girl with russet-brown hair smoothed under a silk head band. Mika stood triumphantly in the center of the room, the studio lights creating a halo effect that left a bright gleam in her brown eyes.
Hanamura froze, letting the bag of carrots plop to the floor. All the day's events seemed fruitless in an instant, leaving her cold and hollow. She could do nothing but stare at Mika in shock.
"Surprised you haven't been able to figure me out?" She asked the cheer squad with a nasty grin, her gaze lingering on Kazane. "You're not the only one with connections in high places, you know. It just so happens I'm BFFs with the President of the Disciplinary Committee. She and I are extremely close."
A great murmur broke out as everyone reacted to her words. They were all shocked and afraid and Izakaya, for one, looked outright petrified. He kept clutching his wooden spoon, shaking his head in denial. The ramifications of this meant they were all doomed from the start.
"Mika, no!"
"No, Mika!"
"Mika, how could you?"
A strange smile crossed her face as she toed the floor with her slipper. She seemed extremely pleased with herself. In her hand she held her flute, an instrument of gleaming silver with buttons encrusted on the barrel. It fit perfectly in the palm of her hand as she took to observing it like a weapon.
"You all think you're so clever, don't you? Who would ever suspect someone like me to do something so horrendous." Her smile grew with mirth. "I've been looking forward to this moment."
She strolled forward, facing Rumi who was still caked in green, her cherry sucker long forgotten. The two were of the same height and stature, but perfect inverts of each other: one dark and chaotic, the other prim and proper. "So? How does it feel?" Mika asked Rumi point-blank. "Does it hurt? Does it fill you with anguish? How does it feel to have your greatest dream dashed into the mud like filth? Doesn't feel so good, does it?"
Hanamura and the others shared concerned glances with Rumi, but Rumi seemed at a total loss. It was Ryu who spoke up.
"Mika darling, I don't understand." He spoke softly. "Why would you–?"
"And you" she growled, silencing him with the point of her flute, "have been the bane of my existence ever since I stepped foot on this godforsaken campus. You are the source of my deepest hatred, Ryuunosuke Hara! Do you have any idea how hard I've worked to become first chair flute only to discover that it was never mine to begin with? You LIED to me!"
Ryu retreated with raised hands.
"I've done no such thing," he protested. "The marching band has always been unified under one ideal: perfection. Are you saying you would have me go against our creed when Flight of the Bumble Bee graces our school?"
"Um…about that," Rumi said, lifting a finger. "You see, the plan was never for me to actually play in the performance. I was going to fake a stomachache and leave the part to you, Mika."
There was a crushing silence.
"What?" said Ryu.
"What?" said Mika.
Rumi cringed.
"Yeah well, let's face it. You're a first-class musician and I'm needed on the pyrotechnic side, so…It was never my intention to actually play during the thing." Rumi scoffed in a way that suggested Mika ought to have known better. "I thought understudies always banked on that sort of thing happening."
Mika looked as if all the winds had been knocked out of her sails. She stood completely blanched; her jaw jutting out like that of an English bulldog.
There was another deafening silence as lights from the gym continued to strobe from the windows. Everyone remained frozen, wondering what their demure villainous would say next.
Mika dropped her shoulders. "Well fuck."
This elicited several gasps.
"You…you would sabotage this whole thing, betray all of your colleagues, and condemn us to a life of academic expulsion…over your love of music?" Ryu asked in a rare display of seriousness.
Mika tensed, her face growing bright red as she faced everyone's gaze for the first time, ashamed.
"Oh, Mika." Ryu sighed, eyes misting. "My darling dearest. My supreme angel! The spark of thine eye!"
To her horror, he approached her with open arms intent on swooping her into a dramatic embrace.
"Oh no you don't!" She squawked. "Don't you dare come groveling to me now, you half-rate Hara! I should have done this a long time ago!"
A loud whack reverberated throughout the room, followed by a cry of anguish as Mika struck Ryu across the face with her flute. The third year fell to the floor, clutching his jaw stunned.
"Whelp. That's three times the charm," murmured Makoto with a grimace.
Mika straightened, holding her flute like a rifle. As she spun on her heels, the end of the flute pointed at several heads, causing people to duck behind one another out of fear. She was deeply distressed, pieces of hair sticking to her eyelashes as she looked to Rumi, to Kazane, then finally to Hanamura.
"Well, what do we do now? How do we fix this?" She demanded. "All I want is to perform! I'll do anything for the chance. Anything! I never would have snitched if I knew I had the part! I promise!"
"Suzume?"
Everyone gazed at her, hoping for a last-minute miracle like the one she had performed earlier that afternoon in the halls, but Hanamura couldn't fathom a way out of this situation. If what Mika said was true, the disciplinary committee knew the art club was up to something. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
"I…I don't know." Hanamura sank against the window, lost. She was drawing a blank. She cast her gaze around the room and knew there was no way they could smuggle a welding gun, fifty gallons of paint, and wire framing without someone noticing. They were trapped.
Disappointment spread like a blithe in the room. They all fell silent, looking defeated. The problem facing them seemed impossible.
It was then that someone else spoke up.
"Akiko, have them stall for time," ordered Isami as she took charge. "Tell the volleyball team to give us five minutes." She threw her hair up into a ponytail as she stepped away from the windows. "That's all we'll need to pull this off."
"Pull what off?"
She turned to Kazane.
"Captain, you know how you always say cheerleading is a ruse to disguise our true intentions? That we should never let the rival teams know what we're really up to at the games? It's the same case here, wouldn't you agree?"
Kazane stopped, her lips spreading into a smirk. "You want us to set up a smokescreen."
"Psychological Warfare Technique Number 42," echoed Makoto. "Show the enemy only what we want them to see. Very good, Sasakura. You have been paying attention."
This seemed to have a motivating effect on the cheer squad which quickly galvanized the whole room. Hanamura glanced up as a soft hand patted her shoulder.
"We're not going to give up," said Isami to Hanamura in earnest. "It's what they expect us to do. Instead, we're going to give them exactly what they want."
"And what's that?" asked Hanamura.
Isami smiled.
"A performance."
. . . . . . . .
"What? What? What's happening? What's she saying?" Shirabu asked Tendou as he stood on the steps of the gym. They were all waiting in suspense as they watched Akiko wield her sister's table light with surprising finesse.
Tendou squinted his eyes as he translated on the spot.
"We've been double-crossed by the first chair flute. Stop. Mika sold us out to the disciplinary committee. Stop. She wished to take down her rival, Rumi. Stop. Rumi had no intention of performing at the festival. Stop. Mika just said the F-word. Stop. Now she's whacked the marching band director with her flute. Stop." Tendou paused, rubbing his neck. "Geez, this Mika sounds like a real mess. Oh! Akiko's signing more. She's really fired up." Tendou squinted his eyes, translating. "By the way, I am extremely attracted to you right now. Stop."
Tendou paused, pursing his lips in a tight O as he glanced to Ushijima. The others glanced to him as well.
"Wait. Did she just sign that to you?" Semi asked Ushijima who had the slightest shade of pink forming at his ears.
In a bout of delusional insanity, Tendou threw his arms over the ace. "Errrr…I'm so attracted to you right now, Wakatoshi! You're so cool!" He jested, quickly trying to hide the fact that Akiko was continuously signing him very private, very rousing statements via lamplight.
Lord help him, he thought with pity.
"Gross. Now's not the time to be weird," griped Semi, pushing Tendou aside.
"What's she saying now?" asked Reon.
The Great Ace fixated on the windows, doing well to hide his blush.
"We have a plan. Stop. Stall the disciplinary committee for five minutes. Stop. Leave the rest to us. Stop."
Tendou and the others seemed unsure. There was quite a bit of commotion happening around Akiko as she continued to wield the tabletop lamp. Everyone in the studio was stirred into action. Even so, the volleyball team could make no sense of the situation from afar.
"But…Sasakura's up there," Yamagata murmured, his jaw tense with dread.
"And Asano…," said Shirabu, equally concerned.
Tendou faced them.
"Are we just going to stand around and let our women battle it out themselves?" He rallied them with a steely look. "Watch them waste away in detention for the rest of the year? Miss out on the festival? Are we really going to allow that to happen?"
Yamagata and Shirabu straightened.
"He's right. We have to do something!"
It was Shirabu who marched over to the theater costumes, retrieving the horsehair helmet from the heap. Holding it with great severity, he stood to face them once more, his posture that of a general at the frontlines of battle. "Remember day two of bootcamp? The death match against the Destroyer? Match 5, Set 7."
"1602," the team whispered ominously.
"Tsujigiri." Shirabu donned the helmet. "May the gods have mercy on our souls."
The others picked up their costumes, Tendou placing the crown of demon horns over his head. As the lights continued to snap on and off in a never-ending light show under Ushijima's guidance, the disciplinary committee were finally set free, only to find themselves in a nightmarish scene.
Grinning, Tendou strolled across the court, his movements halting like those of a running picture film. As the lights shuddered on and off, he grew more devilish and sinister. He quoted his favorite line from Crimson Warrior. Kuma's battle anthem:
"Smash it, bash it into PIECES!
Smash what? Their HEART until it ceases.
So it can't be fixed with ADHESIVES!"
Tendou took a breath.
"Take it away!"
The volleyball team attacked.
. . . . . . . . .
Five minutes were on the clock.
"Quick everyone! We need a distraction," said Isami. "Something to offer as a Trojan horse to trick the disciplinary committee!"
"Like an offering?" Fukuhara hedged.
Hanamura immediately looked to Tashima and saw that the second year was thinking the exact same thing. It was no coincidence that, at that very moment, a shaft of bright light blurred the crowd and illuminated one person in sharp relief. He stood in front of the bookshelves, iridescent blond hair and doe-like eyes peering back at them with all the innocence of a snowdrop. It was unfortunate that he was flanked by two stuffed ravens that looked on the verge of swooping down to claim their prey.
"A sacrificial lamb…" they both gasped.
"Takashi!"
"Izakaya!"
They cut through the crowd, Hanamura seizing Izakaya by the shoulders.
"Remember how you said you haven't made anything decent all year?" Hanamura asked, her eyes locking onto his.
Izakaya swelled with a mixture of embarrassment and indignation. "Geez, Suzume. No need to rub it in!"
"Izakaya, can you do what you did in the principal's office again? Zeldor's death scene?" Tashima implored him urgently. This took him by surprise.
"Wait. You want me to perform it here? Now?"
"The disciplinary committee is on their way. They mean to raid the studio. We need a distraction large enough to dupe them." Hanamura looked at Tashima to back her up.
"We need him," she said devoutly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We need Zeldor the Blue!"
What little color remained in Izakaya's face quickly drained away. He looked for a moment as if he would like nothing more than to bolt from the room or hurl into the nearest waste bin, he looked so frightened. A sheen collected on his brow, and he began to choke.
"No! No-I can't! You're asking too much. I'm – I'm hyperventilating!"
He withdrew from Hanamura and Tashima, trembling visibly.
"Guys, you know me! I'll botch it and you know I will!"
"Takashi, you've preparing for this all year! This is your moment," implored Hanamura. "You're ready!"
But Izakaya wasn't listening. He continued to perspire as he gripped his apron, caught in some inner struggle that had him shaking his head in defeat. Hanamura and Tashima stood helpless as he continued to withdraw from them. The gravity of the situation seemed to have proved too great, even for him.
"Takashi," Asano called out, cutting through the tension with a voice like iron.
Everyone glanced at her, including Izakaya.
Holding his gaze, she lifted the corner of her mouth and uttered a single word:
"Luscious."
Everyone looked to Asano mystified, certain she was speaking utter nonsense that did nothing to elevate the pressure of the situation when Izakaya broke into a wheezy laugh.
"Ew. Reiko, stop."
Hanamura shared a mischievous glance with Asano, picking up the jest.
"Luscious! Luscious! Luscious!" They chanted in unison.
Izakaya broke into more reluctant laughter.
"Stop it, you guys!"
Others caught on swiftly and picked up the chant. "LUSCIOUS, LUSCIOUS, LUSCIOUS!"
Izakaya clutched his stomach, unable to keep the coyote laugh from escaping his mouth.
"Grrr! I SAID STOP!"
The color had returned to his face, along with a noticeable irritation that cut through his paralyzing fear. He stopped cowering and tossed his wooden ladle to the floor.
"Alright, alright. I'll do it!" He said to the room. "But you're going to have to give me half an hour to prepare!"
"How about half a minute?" suggested Hanamura with a grin. "Guys, are we ready?"
"Bring the welding screen up front," ordered Isami. "We'll use it as a backdrop."
"I'll kill the lights!" volunteered Fukuhara who made way for the breaker box with chisel in hand.
"Think you can conjure up one of your frilly concertos?" Kazane asked Ryu who was still clutching his swollen jaw.
"Don't insult me, you braided barbarian. I always keep a medieval shanty up my sleeve for times such as these." He pulled himself up. "Mika dearest darling, I need you up front and center."
"Right!"
"Everyone, grab a bucket," Ryu ordered the marching band. Climbing onto the shelves, he reached for a dark wooden instrument crammed at the very back and revealed a violin.
"Let's create some fog!" Rumi said to Matsu and Shizue.
Hanamura ripped open the curtains of her studio. "Everyone, quick! Grab a canvas and drape it over your stations. Go, go, go!"
People lined up single file, tearing down her paintings and concealing their projects under colorful canvas sheets. It worked seamlessly, the array of textures and colors masking even the most conspicuous of workstations. Yamada and the robotics team used several sheets to disguise the pile of paint cans, turning it into a rugged mountain. One was thrown over the welding gun, transforming it into a rocky knoll.
Asano and the theater seamstresses surrounded Izakaya, replacing his glasses and apron with silver-blue robes and a flowing wig. They worked in unison, dusting his nose, attaching elvish ears, and adjusting his velvet cape. Izakaya took heavy gulps from a water bottle, rehearsing his lines while clutching his bejeweled grimoire:
"Oh, wonderous world! Where men and women dwell,
In fragile vessels, like tales we oft tell.
Yet mortal souls, they burn with fervent fire!
As stars that blaze, then fade in heavens higher!"
The science club dropped chunks of dry ice into the sink and filled it with water. Soon, fog billowed over the edge, creating a bog-like mist that crept along the floor. It exuded an eerie, ethereal scent, carrying a faint tinge of chilled vapor that tickled the nostrils with a ghostly chill. Fukuhara then opened the breaker box, plunging the studio into darkness, with only the emergency light casting amber illumination over the worktable. This was meant to be their stage.
Izakaya was hoisted onto it, flanked by the marching band readying their makeshift drums. They began to play a soft rhythm as Izakaya resumed rehearsing:
"In this grand theater of life's ceaseless show,
We play our parts, in joy or endless woe.
Mortality's decree, we must all embrace!
For in its shadow, we find our rightful place!"
"Two minutes, everyone!" Tashima called out. "Places! Places!"
Sheets cascaded over the worktable, and the cheer squad herded as many students as possible underneath it to conceal themselves. As everyone crawled on hands and knees under the table, laughing and giggling, they wished Izakaya luck and broke into a chorus of "break a leg!"
This seemed to embolden him, and he spoke with even greater conviction:
"But fear not, for within our fleeting span,
We weave threads of fate as best we can!
Embrace the magic of this earthly sphere,
For in each moment, eternity draws near!"
Excitement welled up in Hanamura's heart as she gazed at their impromptu production. Gone was the disorder of the studio, replaced by a Shakespearian scene with an elven wizard at its core. The amber light caressed his silver hair and jewel-encrusted tome, while a thick layer of fog hugged the floor. The marching band made it sound as if they were all indeed in a medieval tavern, Mika working deft fingers over her flute. In that moment, the studio had never seemed more magical nor more mysterious.
"Akiko, tell the team we're ready!" She said as she took her place with the others under the table.
Akiko nodded excitedly. "Right!"
Flicking her sister's table lamp on and off, she spelled one final message:
We're ready. Send us the enemy.
A/N: It was hurting me to let this story sit in hiatus for so long. My apologies, dear friends! I hope this chapter finds you well and enjoying your weekend. I've missed you!
I've been wanting to do a "split-screen" chapter for a while now. I'm so happy I could do it here! That fast back-and-forth pacing between characters is so much fun to watch on screen. I hope it translated well here too.
"Bach Flute Concerto in A Minor, I. Allegro Assai" – Bremer Barockochester
"Swalla" – Gaga Symphony Orchestra
"Astronomia (Medieval Tavern Style)" – Cornelius Link
Thank you so much for following this story!
lavendermoonmilk