Chapter Two
It was like learning an obscure phrase and then suddenly hearing it in everyday conversation. Frequency Delusion. Tendou had researched it last year when the volleyball captain had told him that his blocking and spiking didn't have to be 'mutually exclusive.' He had never heard the expression before, but after looking it up, he heard it everywhere – in the classroom, on television, even in dialogue in his favorite comic book series. Frequency delusion occurred with random pieces of trivia too, but it had never applied to a person before.
The first year had become his latest obscure tidbit, her reappearance in the hallway enough to justify a place on his personal radar.
The following day, he was drinking from the fountain in the hall between classes when she slipped down the opposite end, this time laden with bundles of brightly-colored plastic bags. They dangled from her arms, forming the wings of a clownish bird. When she paused to fix a sock, the plastic bundles hit the tile floor, sounding exactly like the pom-poms wielded by the cheerleaders.
Tendou used his context clues. He scanned the corkboards to see if there was some kind of a recycling drive that warranted so many receptacles. But the call sheets were limited to after-school tutoring and an upcoming LARP event in the park. Curious, he checked the time.
Drats, I have practice, he thought, nudging the flyer.
It happened again the following day.
"Good morning everyone! This week we'll be tackling genetics," said Ms. Oshiro, a young, sunny teacher on her second year at Shiratorizawa. She had a frizzy mane and a raspy voice better suited for a music festival, but her master's in science education made her class a tour de force. The third-year volleyball players had warned their underclassmen that she was one of those new-age, kinesthetic types who coerced her students into dangerous science experiments.
If she asks you to help her demonstrate the forces of gravity, whatever you do, don't do it, their captain had warned them firmly. A kid wound up with a broken nose after she swung a suspended bowling ball at his face. He was out of school for two weeks.
Jesus Christ, said Jin.
We can't afford any injuries this year. Their captain looked at them all sternly in the eye. Capeesh?
They were to avoid Ms. Oshiro at all costs which was a shame. Tendou appreciated the extra level of danger that awaited him in her classroom each day. It kept him light on his toes. But to his disappointment, the class had remained woefully tame so far. Their big project of the day: planting tulips.
"Grab some garden gloves and shovels," she instructed them, "We're taking class outside today!"
Tendou and Ushijima strolled across campus with their science class. The communal gardens behind the dormitories were in desperate need of weeding before they could plant. It wasn't so bad. The weather was crisp that day, fresh with gold and green light. They rolled up their sleeves and immediately set to work on uprooting the stubborn fescue in the garden beds. When Tendou stood back to assess his progress, he spotted the first-year girl wandering across the lawn.
Doesn't she have class? What's she even doing out here? He wiped his brow with the back of his hand.
Shiratorizawa's grounds-keeping was immaculate. Every bush, tree, and sidewalk was preened into perfection. And yet, she had a decent pile of twigs that she gathered using a piece of string. Removing her blazer, she tied the sleeves around her waist before hoisting the tinder up over her shoulder and headed straight for the school. The act was oddly provincial - something he saw on television often enough, but never in the city.
He glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed, but to his dismay, they were all gasping over a yellow snail one of the girls had unearthed with her garden shovel. Ushijima was hefting entire clumps of soil with sheer strength, very much absorbed in the task at hand.
Tendou pursed his lips.
It only continued to get weirder.
Friday came around and it was during lunch that he and the team delivered supplies to the gym under orders from Coach Washijo. They formed a processional across the yard, each carrying a box of newly acquired training equipment. Tendou read the fancy sports logo on the sides – some device with bungee cords and straps to aid in their endurance training. Another form of torture, he surmised, knowing that anything the Demon Coach ordered meant certain doom. As they approached the gym, Tendou jolted at the sight of a familiar silhouette stepping out from around the far corner.
Again? He thought, exasperated. Who gives her permission to wander the grounds?
The thought was ridiculous, of course. Everyone wandered campus between classes. Shiratorizawa was a hive of constant activity, the courtyard decorated with students going about their daily business. What set this student apart from all the rest was her industriousness, the calm precision with which she gathered and transported her wares.
She wasn't alone this time either. Two classmates – one male, the other female – were helping her carry stacks of buckets from behind the sports annex. They had on aprons to protect their uniforms, but it was clear to Tendou that the male classmate was grumbling in protest. He held his stack as far away as he could, griping loudly about spiders.
"We'll hose them down by the arena," the girl called out behind her, heading toward the stable barn. "They need to be clean before I make the incisions."
Incisions? Tendou frowned, growing increasingly concerned. Why would she, or any student for that matter, need to worry about incisions? The third years were the only ones allowed to dissect frogs in the science lab. It was a rite of passage and one that Ms. Oshiro relished. The metal scalpels were kept in a glass case under lock and key, a menacing reminder of things to come.
Something wasn't right.
"Oi, what's the holdup?" Yamagata huffed, bumping into him. "We'll miss lunch at this rate."
"Right, right," said Tendou distractedly, hoisting his cargo and following the libero into the building. He spared another glance at the first years before resuming his task.
The best way to get to know someone, really know someone, was to observe their behavior when they suspected no one was paying attention. It was a tactic Tendou liked to use whenever assessing an opposing team. He would often excuse himself, blending into the banal of his surroundings as he trained his senses on the opponent's 'tells.' If he applied this tactic to the first year, then perhaps he could glean the reason for her strange behavior as well.
Motivation. He had studied it in his first week of writing.
You can trace a character's motivation through their actions, said Mr. Harada. Motivation is what drives the story forward. It is the backbone of any plot.
It was true in volleyball as well.
"The opponent tries to get the ball over the net – that never changes. But it's the how and why of it that makes them so interesting," he tried explaining to Kawanishi during their practice later that evening.
Tendou had been correct to anticipate a new form of torture. They broke in the new equipment, strapping themselves to bungee cords that added substantial pressure to the weight and torque of their jumps. Coach Washijo had called for jump serve practice, three rounds of fifty each.
Their legs turned to jelly in the first round.
"Utter waste of time," Kawanishi panted. "I can't figure their whole life story in the middle of a match!"
Tendou sighed, crouching low. "Pity. Once you figure out their motivation, blocking becomes second nature."
He leaped into the air, making his harness strain as he beat the ball across the net. Yunohama caught it from the other end, shouting "Nice Course!" with a haggard grin.
"Haven't you ever met someone and wanted to get inside their head?" Tendou asked, his gaze flickering briefly to Ushijima. Kawanishi harrumphed.
"Only you would say something so creepy."
Tendou rolled his neck, his mouth thinning into a leer.
"Oh, you have nothing to worry about, Taichi. I don't find you interesting at all."
The first year glowered.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT THERE? LOLLYGAGGING? PICK UP THE PACE!" Washijo shouted from center court. "KENJIRO, JUMP LIKE YOU MEAN IT OR – HEAVEN HELP YOU – I'LL GIVE YOU A REASON!"
"YES SIR!" Shirabu shouted back, his bangs slick against his forehead. He looked ready to faint.
It was then that Ushijima nearly snapped out of his harness. The force of his jump was so powerful it caused one of the cables to fly backward, barely missing Jin. The gym fell silent.
"N-Nice kill," Jin uttered, stunned.
Ushijima checked the snaps of his harness.
"Double up, Wakatoshi. Jin, better give him some space," ordered Washijo, waving him aside.
They schlepped their way through practice until their Demon Coach was satisfied. None of them would be able to walk all weekend, but their suffering pleased Washijo. Tendou wobbled with the others into the locker room where they quickly cleaned up before departing for dinner.
"Suppose we could get crutches from Hino?" Tendou whined. The air was humid, drawing moisture over his lip as he walked with Ushijima back to the boys' dormitory. He knitted hands behind his head, letting his mind wander to the girl again.
He was curious now. He wanted to know why she was collecting all those things around campus. He wanted to know what motivations drove her to hustle with so much drive. It was a scratch he was dying to itch. He had to know.
"Magpie Girl was at it again today. Did you see?" A boy, a member of the golf club, said to his group of friends. They were headed toward the school entrance to grab dinner off-campus. "Ichida and I saw her make off with a pitchfork this afternoon. She meant to carry it inside the school! Can you believe that?"
"We sure have been admitting some strange ones these days," agreed a fellow golfer.
Tendou had been so keen on eavesdropping on their conversation; he neglected to realize he stood right in their path, hunched over with arms dangling like a troll. His hair was still damp from the showers, his cowlicks forming red horns on the sides of his head. The golf club kids jumped from fright.
"Tendou?" Ushijima called, turning back with a frown.
They peered between the Guess Monster and the Great Ace with increasing alarm.
"You wouldn't happen to know what she does with all the stuff she collects?" Tendou asked the boy, the presumptive leader of the group. "This…Magpie Girl?"
The boy tensed, slowly shaking his head. "N-No one does."
Tendou scrunched his mouth to the side. "Hn. Thanks anyway."
He dismissed them with a wave.
"Talk about a strange one," whispered the boy to his friends. The golf club shot him wary glances, but Tendou ignored their scrutiny as he staggered back to his companion.
"What was that about?" Ushijima asked, still frowning. Tendou leaned back and stretched.
"Oh, just a puzzle I'm trying to work out," he yawned, tired. He was quick to change the subject, not wanting to divulge his growing interest in the shenanigans of a single first year. "Have you finished the new Jump I gave you?"
"I'm on Nutritional Yeast for Every Meal."
"Wakatoshi, that's an advert. You can skip those, ya know."
They walked in companionable silence, enjoying the warm red glow of the evening.
It was near the dormitory entrance that Ushijima finally said, "but I like nutritional yeast."
Tendou jolted, eyeing his teammate.
He would have to work harder if he were ever going to regain Satsuki's favor.
. . . . . . . . . . .
May arrived in a riot of color, decorating the school grounds in an explosion of rhododendrons. A family of flycatchers took to roosting in the school bell tower, diving like yellow comets in the yard. It was at this time that the students noticed a considerable increase in homework. Pressure ramped up for the semester, forcing everyone to gather into study groups.
Tendou stared at his rough draft, the working title at the top of the page reading Mystery of the Magpie. He had crossed out several other attempts, but Mr. Harada said it was better to write the piece first before trying to name it. That way you don't pigeonhole yourself into a story you don't want to write.
But Tendou wanted to write about Magpie Girl. He found her odd and the perfect fodder for his short story assignment – the one he'd be submitting into the contest along with Akiko and the others.
He flipped through the pages of his notebook, analyzing the entries he had kept over the past few days. To the outside eye, it read like a surveillance report. To him, it had the potential to be the outline to a plot:
Monday 1:45 p.m. – target sighted, carrying a tarp
Tuesday 2:17 p.m. – target sighted, moving plastic bags
Wednesday 11:32 a.m. – target sighted, gathering sticks
Friday 11:49 a.m. – target sighted, two accomplices, buckets "incisions?"
Friday 5:32 p.m. – golf club, pitchfork, target's alias Magpie Girl
"Riddle me this, boys." He cracked his knuckles, dropping his pencil onto the table. It was time for a much-needed intermission. They were crammed inside one of the study rooms in the library, cloistered around a table with contraband snacks and drinks. Yunohama was placed on librarian patrol, keeping his eyes and ears open for Ms. Moriyama who was known to make the rounds. "Let's say you're at school and, one day, you see a student carrying a tarp through the halls. The next day, she's got plastic bags. The third day, she's outside gathering sticks in the yard. Just when things couldn't get any weirder, she brings a pitchfork into the school. What is she doing?"
Reon had his eyes glued to his physics homework but humored him all the same.
"Building a fort?" He offered.
"Organizing a riot?" Yamagata threw in, taking a swig of his orange juice.
"Hiding a body?" Shirabu escalated very quickly. This earned him several disturbed looks.
"Hmm, a bit dark," Tendou mused, "but worth considering."
"What's this about? Some kind of ruse?" Semi asked, suspicious.
"No, I genuinely want to know," he insisted. "There's a girl whose been collecting these things and I cannot for the life of me figure out why!"
"Well, that's a first," said Reon, looking up from his homework. "Usually you have a knack for these kinds of things."
"What things?" Shirabu asked, confused.
"Creepy things," said Semi. "When we first met, he figured out my astrological sign."
"He guessed my blood type," agreed Ushijima.
"That's a one-in-four chance. That's not impressive," said Shirabu flatly.
"Says someone who's AB positive."
The first year jerked, sending his mechanical pencil flying across the table. It landed in the bag of chips beside Yamagata. Shirabu pinned his eyes on Tendou with open astonishment.
"Wait – how did you…?"
"Your lactose intolerance," said Tendou. "You avoid dairy to prevent flatulence."
Shirabu looked to Semi and Ushijima as if searching for an explanation.
"See? Creepy," Semi confirmed.
"If you don't scare people a little bit, then what's the point?" Tendou shrugged, nonchalant.
"Wait a minute! Wait a minute! Hold on! Have you been spying on me?"
Tendou reached for the bag of sweets under the table, helping himself to a butterscotch chew.
"Are we just going to ignore the fact that he mentioned a girl?" Kawanishi said, leaning forward.
This caused the group to sharpen their focus on Tendou.
"Yeah, what's this all about? I didn't think there was any room inside that crazy head of yours besides volleyball and comic books," said Jin. "When have you been paying attention to girls?"
Tendou straightened, insulted. "I'm not that simple-minded."
"It's not that," argued Jin, "With Coach on the warpath this year, we're allowed three luxuries outside volleyball – eating, breathing, and sleeping."
"And crying," added Yunohama, "you forgot that one."
"Is that a luxury?"
"To Coach Washijo – yes."
"See my point?" Jin addressed Tendou. "You don't have time for distractions this year."
"It's not like that," he said, leaning back with a knee braced against the table.
The butterscotch melted, flooding his tongue with caramel and salt. Chewing slowly, he let his mind drift to the exchange he had had with her on the first day of school. Though the memory was greatly overshadowed by his fear of getting kicked off the team, her smile remained a sunburst behind his lids.
Their conversation had lasted a grand total of five seconds. Hardly anything to pine over. Compliments were rare, sure. And from a female student, even more so. But it didn't mean he was smitten. It only meant she was on his radar as an acquaintance. He couldn't help it if she had her own bizarre antics that left him intrigued.
"I just want to know why all the hunting and gathering," he said. "And I'm not the only one. People have started calling her Magpie Girl. Is that not worth a bit of interest?"
"Magpie? As in," Yamagata fluttered his hands like the wings of a bird, earning him snickers.
"Ah, scavenger," said Semi, the nickname jogging his memory. "Come to think of it, I have heard about her."
Tendou leaned forward against the table, curious. "You have?"
"Yeah, a first year. Supposedly, she was seen scrounging around in the school cafeteria collecting milk cartons out of the trash. The girls in my homeroom were talking about it last week."
"Eh?" Tendou tilted his head. This only served to heighten his curiosity.
"Maybe she's extremely dedicated to recycling," Yamagata shrugged.
Tendou addressed their trio of first years. "Kenjiro, Taichi, Yunohama, do you know anything?"
They looked at each other before shrugging their shoulders.
"Not in my homeroom."
"Nope."
"I don't know who we're even talking about."
Tendou sighed, swirling his pencil between his fingers.
None of them could come up with a plausible explanation that would excuse her behavior, and their attention quickly diverted to other pressing topics, but Tendou pocketed this new information, deciding that he would get to the bottom of this eventually. He was going to find out what this was all about.
It was for the sake of his story after all.
A/N: Have you ever experienced frequency delusion? I come across it whenever learning new words or unusual names. Suddenly – I hear it everywhere! This happened when my dad used the word 'eviscerate' over dinner one night when I was a kid, and it rocked my world. It also happened with the actor, Stanley Tucci. So strange...so random. Or is it?
Here are the tracks that inspired this chapter:
"Video Voyeur" – The Good Natured
"Rumour" – Chloe Howl
Thank you for reading!
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