Chapter Twenty-Two

"Hmm, there seems to be no cognitive damage. Your pupillary light reflex is normal," said Nurse Hino as she waved a small flashlight in front of Yamagata's eyes. She was inches from his face, watching his pupils dilate as he sat perfectly still. "Any feelings of nausea? Dizziness? Headache?" She quizzed him.

"No, ma'am," he answered stiffly.

"Any troubles with sleeping? Sudden loss of bodily functions?"

Yamagata reddened. "Er…not that I'm aware of, no."

Nurse Hino pursed her lips.

"In that case, I don't think a trip to the hospital is necessary, but I suggest we follow the same protocol as we did last year," she said, wheeling back in her chair to record a few observations in her chartbook. "Two weeks with a neck brace and a cold compress on your neck in the evenings should suffice. I'm giving you a low dose prescription for the pain."

Yamagata waited patiently on the hospital bed as she put together a kit.

"How long until the stitches come out?" He asked her, prodding his mouth tenderly.

"Three to five days if you stop touching them," came her sharp reply. "I mean it. You'll be left with a scar if you don't leave it alone."

Yamagata glanced at the mirror hanging above her desk, assessing his swollen lower lip.

"A scar," he murmured to himself, intrigued.

Pale morning light streamed through the windows, casting the tiled floor in bright bands. The school infirmary was quiet save for the low droning of the air conditioning unit in the corner. Nurse Hino's cup of coffee had grown cold, her desk littered with chart notes and questionnaires she had collected from the rest of the team.

Removing her glasses, she stuck them in the pocket of her lab coat with a soft sigh.

"Honestly, this is far worse than last year." She addressed the room, glancing to the rest of the group who were all gathered for a physical examination. "Black eyes, split lips, contusions, head trauma…just what kind of boot camp did you all come back from? I've never seen a more battered team!"

She looked to Shirabu in particular who was sitting on the adjacent bed, fidgeting with his bangs, hoping to cover up the worst of an angry, smarting black eye. He tensed, aware that everyone was waiting for him to explain.

Crossing arms over his chest, he turned away.

"I said I don't want to talk about it," he griped sullenly. "I'm not ready."

Mrs. Hino fixed her inquiry on Tendou instead who had been rummaging through her candy jar for the lone butterscotch at the very bottom. Feeling her inquisitive gaze, Tendou quickly abandoned his mission, pulling his hand free and setting the jar back on her desk.

"Let's just say the lines were blurred between volleyball and air missile combat," he said in quick summation. "There were things we had to resort to in order to survive."

"Terrible, heinous things," added Shirabu vacantly.

Yunohama placed a hand on his back.

"Hey, remember what we talked about. What happens in boot camp stays in boot camp," he said with the conviction and solidarity of a brother-in-arms. There was a cerebral glow about him. A freshness as if he had spent forty days and forty nights in the desert and had come back fully enlightened. He bore the dignity of a monk. "We made a vow never to discuss it further. No one needs to know what happened. 'Kay?"

Shirabu came around, looking a little less sullen.

"Okay."

The whole team stared at the floor in silence.

Nurse Hino blinked.

"Right, well…," she cleared her throat as she stood, "I suggest you take your vitamins twice daily. Drink lots of water. Focus on rest and follow the treatment plans I've prescribed each of you," she instructed them carefully. "You'll check back in with me in a week or so to see how your injuries are healing. Hayato–" she said sharply "–don't make me put you in a cone of shame. The neck brace is bad enough, don't you think?"

Yamagata quickly dropped his hand from his face.

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Good. I'll see you all in a week," she said in dismissal, ushering them out the door.

As the team shuffled into the hallway, tired and sore, none of them were particularly enthused to be back in school. It was far too early in the morning, and none of them had slept well the night before, having returned to campus late in the night due to their bus driver getting lost in downtown.

Tendou's eyes drooped as he followed the others down the hall.

It would be a miracle if he survived the day. His whole body felt like a rubber band that had stretched out too far and lost its elasticity. Every muscle tugged with a dull pain, the worst of it settling in his hands and feet. The others weren't much better off. Even Ushijima seemed subdued as he covered his mouth to hide a bearlike yawn.

It was going to be a long day.

"Suppose we could just nap in the equipment room until practice?" Tendou offered meekly.

Before anyone could respond, a girl stepped out of a neighboring classroom. She was carrying a tall stack of paperwork in her arms and was headed straight for the teachers' lounge across the hall. But upon seeing them, she immediately froze and gasped. Next thing they knew, papers were spewing out of her arms like white confetti, decorating the floor as she spun around and ducked her head back inside the classroom.

"They're here!" She shouted. "They're back! The volleyball team!"

Several more students burst from the classroom.

"It's true! You're back!"

"Hi, guys!"

"Wow, you're all here! Where have you been?"

For a moment, the team stood stock-still. They were all stunned. So besieged by the trials and tribulations of their most recent training camp, they had all nearly forgotten that they had won the tournament. A thousand years seemed to have gone by between the Interhigh and now. Tendou wondered if this is what prisoners of war felt when they reentered society: aged, cynical, and socially inept.

The news spread through the school like wildfire, and soon more students poured out of the classrooms, rushing them in the hall.

It had a lustrating effect. The team stood taller, prouder, more energized. Yamagata and Shirabu were the center of attention as everyone grilled them about their injuries. What had been an extremely sore subject for Shirabu only moments ago was suddenly transformed into a tale of epic proportions as he regaled everyone with his David-and-Goliath encounter with The Destroyer.

"The ground shook whenever he stepped onto the court," he said, causing everyone to gasp. "I'm lucky I escaped with this small bruise. Another kid was knocked out cold. He ended up missing most of camp."

Yamagata, joining in on the attention, told everyone about the spike he received with his face.

"There's a chance I'll have a scar forever," he boasted loudly.

Tendou stepped back, allowing them a chance to savor this moment. After days of grueling practice, it was nice to be able to celebrate their victory again.

He watched his teammates with a small grin, taking his usual spot toward the back in which to better observe the activity from afar. It was the same as last year when they came back victorious, only Ushijima had been the main focal point as the new team ace. Tendou had stood behind him then too, marveling at how calm his friend remained throughout the commotion.

Everyone was too intimidated to approach him, but then again, Tendou was used to it by now. He took immeasurable pride in being the black shadow to Ushijima's bright light. He was the antimatter, the hidden machinery that held the team together seamlessly. The only reward he craved was a chance at Nationals; a chance to remain in the haven that brought him so much happiness.

Or, at least, that's what he was telling himself as he stood there languidly. His mind began to wander into a doze, but the sound of excessively loud breathing reached his ears, dispelling the peace.

Frowning, Tendou glanced down.

A first-year, a girl with large, bespectacled eyes, was staring back at him intently.

"Hi," she said.

Tendou glanced around, confused.

"Er…hullo," he said, uncertain she was speaking to him.

But she most certainly was. She took a step closer, emboldened.

"Congratulations on winning the tournament," she continued, her voice sounding nasally and flat. She held an inhaler to her chest as she continued breathing heavily through her mouth. "You stole the whole thing. I saw it all."

Tendou inched back a step, scratching his cheek.

"Oh, uh…well, not…not necessarily the whole thing," he tried to deflect but was immediately cut off.

"I saw you do the joust!" Another girl exclaimed, popping out of nowhere and making him jump. "It was amazing! I've never seen anything like that before! Did you know it was going to go that way?"

"Well, of course, he did!" said yet another girl, a second-year with long curly hair. She was standing with her hands on her hips. "They don't call him the Guess Monster for nothing, right?"

She was fluttering her lashes, a perceptible sweetness to her gaze as she stared up at him expectantly.

Tendou swallowed.

He was confused. He felt strange. Surely they were speaking to him by accident. It was Ushijima who garnered the attention. All Tendou ever did was stand in the background, lazy and smug. He was never the recipient of such direct praise.

But the girls only continued to multiply, appearing from everywhere and clustering around him in a tight circle. In just a few short minutes, Tendou found himself backed against the wall with hands raised, trying to make sense of their animated chatter. They swarmed him like butterflies, each trying to capture and hold his attention above the rest. They laughed, they flipped their hair, they batted their eyes, and danced on their feet. The girl with the glasses continued staring at him unblinkingly.

It was too much.

Pushing away from the wall, he rose to his full height and stuffed hands deep inside his pockets. He peered down at them all with a slightly unnerving look on his face.

"Yes, yes, very nice," he said briskly, leaning forward, "but let's cut the charade. What is it you all want from me?"

His voice was cold and full of mistrust.

The sharpness of it caused all the girls to fall silent as they peered at him, shocked.

Reon immediately intervened.

"Whoops! Sorry ladies, he's not used to all this attention," he said with a smile that creased his eyes handsomely. He clapped a hand on Tendou's shoulder, pulling him back. "Thank you for the well wishes! We hope you'll continue to support us when we go to Nationals this year. Isn't that right, Tendou?"

Reon flashed him a warning look that brooked no argument.

Tendou stared back at him sourly.

"Erm…right."

The girls all smiled, assuaged by Reon's smooth-talking as he whisked Tendou away.

Once they were well out of earshot, the wing spiker scowled at him disapprovingly.

"Really, Tendou?"

"What? No one goes out of their way to be nice to me unless they want something!"

"Not when they're your fans," said Reon. When Tendou continued peering at him confused, the wing spiker sighed. "Look, given the nature of how you stole the game away from Seijoh, you're bound to have a few fangirls now as a result," he explained under his breath. They glanced over their shoulders, making eye contact with the girl who was still watching Tendou with a fanatical gleam.

He felt a pang of unease.

"Fangirls? Fangirls?" He repeated, incredulous. "Have you suffered head trauma too? What makes you think someone like me would have fangirls? I'm the Guess Monster, for crying out loud! People run away from me. They fear me."

"Not anymore, apparently," said Reon who sounded just as mystified.

When they rejoined the others, Reon was quick to shove him into the middle of their group.

"Circle Formation, gents." He ordered promptly. "Looks like we're in for a big day. Ushijima, we'll need you upfront and center to keep the masses at bay. It looks like they're after Tendou."

"Ah."

Ushijima immediately took on the persona of an inner-city club bouncer, shielding Tendou from view.

The others glanced to him curiously.

"Wait, what?" Semi uttered.

"I know! I'm just as confused as you are," said Tendou, shaking his head. "What's happening? Has the school gone mad?"

They didn't have time to analyze the situation. More and more people were filling the hallway.

"Whatever's happening, we need to get out of here fast," said Jin as he eyed the crowd nervously. "Otherwise, we'll cause another traffic jam here in the hall. We don't want another citation from the disciplinary committee."

The team had no choice. They mustered their energy and stepped back into survival mode, collecting themselves into an intimidating march as they hurriedly set off down the hall. The crowd parted to make room for them, but Tendou felt the weight of their hungry stares follow him into the stairwell.

He had always reveled in the attention, but this…this was something else entirely.

It smacked of heroism, of stardom, of popularity.

A truly distressing thought occurred to him as they hustled down the stairs.

Had he become the new Miracle Boy?

. . . . . . . .

"Your finals and makeup exams have been graded, and I must say," Mrs. Osakabe paused, surveying the class with her cold, draconian gaze, "I'm deeply disappointed by the results. As a general rule, I never expect much from first years, but your class average is appalling." She stood at the front of the room, lifting a folder and plopping it onto her podium loudly. Everyone jumped. "You will all need to apply yourselves more if you have any hope of gaining entrance into university. As it stands, this is unacceptable."

Hanamura chewed her thumb, her gaze trained on the small crack in the tiles between her feet. Her uniform felt unusually stiff, and she was discouraged to find herself right back to the terror of her very first week at school.

Sensing her anxiety, Asano leaned forward to place a reassuring hand on her back.

"Hey, it's okay. You'll be fine," she whispered. "Osakabe does this at the start of every term. It's just part of her act, you'll see. Look at Nishioka." She pointed out suddenly. "Even he's freaking out."

Hanamura glanced to the boy at the front of the room, the one who sat closest to the chalkboard and was generally known as the top student in their class. Nishioka was rubbing his eyebrows nonstop. No, plucking at them with a vengeance as if he wanted to remove them from his face altogether.

The sight was oddly reassuring.

"Thanks," Hanamura whispered back to Asano in gratitude.

But as Osakabe began traveling around the room dispersing everyone's exams, Hanamura found it increasingly difficult to sit still. A cold flush swept over her skin as, one by one, the students received their evaluated assignments.

When Mrs. Osakabe finally approached her, Hanamura lifted her gaze, hoping to capture some indication of how she had done. But Mrs. Osakabe remained maddeningly unreadable, her face colder than marble, her eyes blacker than coal, as she placed the paperwork upside down on her desk and moved on.

Hanamura took a breath. It was the moment of truth now.

Everything hinged on this single moment: Shiratorizawa, the art club, her friends…Tendou.

Her heart trembled. She had absolutely everything to lose.

Peeling back the corner slowly, she read the score etched in blood-red ink.

"Oh," she murmured.

Tears immediately sprang to her eyes.

. . . . . . . . .

"The interview. It went viral!" Semi announced as he studied his phone in sheer delight. "It's nearly reached a million views, and look! Someone created an autotune version!"

The team was traveling through the school, Tendou at the heart of their group as they assessed the recent footage of the Guess Monster getting smooched on live television. Someone had taken Satsuki's exclamation and turned it into a catchy musical performance. At the very end of the video, the camera zoomed in on Daisuke who had become an internet sensation all on his own. The team broke into boisterous laughter much to Tendou's growing discomfort.

"No wonder the school's gone insane," said Jin. "This is absolutely precious."

"I want it as my ringtone," said Semi. "Anyone know how to do that?"

"I'll show you. I already fixed mine," offered Shirabu, holding out his hand.

"No! No one is turning Satsuki into a ringtone!" Tendou argued heatedly with a foul look on his face. He stomped his foot, a child throwing a temper tantrum. "This video was posted days ago. Can we please move on with our lives?"

Semi and Shirabu stared at him for a solid beat.

"Hell no," said Shirabu.

"Not a chance! You have fun at our expense all the time," said Semi. "It's only fair we get this little gem for ourselves. Right, Shirabu?"

"Right!"

The two setters high-fived, displaying a rare moment of camaraderie.

"Guys! Guys! There's one with recorder music piping in the background," announced Kawanishi who was joining in on the fun. He held up his phone, letting it fill the hallway with a poorly rendered version of My Heart Will Go On. The team broke out into more laughter, Yamagata pinching his busted lip to keep it from splitting open again. "Oh, this is too good," he snickered.

Tendou stared up at the ceiling, issuing a long, dramatic sigh. He dragged fingers down his face, tugging at his lower eyelids.

"Alright, I suppose I deserved that," he said to Reon who seemed to be the only practical one left in the group. But Reon was staring at his own phone.

"Hmm? Oh. Don't look at me," he said, "I'm watching the cover story they did on the convenience store. Look."

Curious, Tendou peered over his shoulder as he adjusted the volume.

Local neighborhood darling Satsuki Matsushida of Swan Mart made a splash on television last Friday night with her sudden appearance during an interview at the Boys' Volleyball Interhigh Tournament. Known across the internet as 'The Scarlet Bandit,' Matsushida is a longtime supporter of the Shiratorizawa volleyball club and shares a close kinship with Satori Tendou, the middle blocker who claimed victory over Aoba Johsai on Friday night.

The video cut to Satsuki being interviewed inside the store.

I've always known Satori would make a name for himself, she said, looking stylish with her red glasses and beaded cardigan. There was a polish to her as if she had just come from the salon. That's why, from the moment I first met him, I've always encouraged him to eat heartier food. As the unofficial official team nutritionist, I'm thrilled to see his new diet regimen is having a tremendous effect on his gaming performance. One of his favorite staples is Fermented Beet Greens of which I always keep in ample supply here at the store.

The video cut to Daisuke who was standing like a game show model, motioning to a display case full of canned greens, prunes, and pickled fish. Someone had the audacity to sketch Tendou's face in crayon and mount it above the shelves with the caption, "Eat like a Champion!"

"Wow, she makes it look like you have the diet of an eighty-year-old," Reon remarked humorously.

"An eighty-year-old with incontinence," added Jin.

Tendou growled low in his throat.

Good for Satsuki. At least one of them was benefiting from all the publicity. This would be good for business. But fame, as he was quickly learning, was not all it was cracked up to be.

The interview had humanized him, revealing a side of himself that wasn't so frightening. Suddenly the Guess Monster was approachable, endearing, soft. Whatever invisible barriers that had originally kept people at a distance were no longer there, and, upon returning to Shiratorizawa, Tendou found himself the unlikely new star of the school.

It was preposterous.

His notoriety, the thing that made him swell with pride and strut with a dangerous swagger, had transformed into an itchy wool sweater that threatened to drive him mad.

At every opportunity, students rushed the halls to speak to him. They followed him into the bathroom, swarmed his table at lunch, and loitered near his locker during breaks. At first, Tendou was intrigued by this new reception. He was used to students cowering in fear or shooting him wary glances from afar, but it was an entirely different experience to have people approach him of their own free will.

And their praise. Oh, the endless singing of his praises.

You were amazing!

I've never seen a joust like that before!

You dominated the court!

They struck him like claps of thunder, jarring and unprovoked.

Endless, compulsory kindness.

It was disorienting to go from being a total outcast to the school favorite, and Tendou quickly grew tired of the attention by midday. He excused himself from class just to have a few moments' peace. But as he grabbed himself a drink in the hall, he heard the sound of a camera click.

Pausing, he glanced to the side, water still streaming under his chin.

He found the yearbook photographer grinning in triumph.

Aha! So you drink from the water fountain, do ya?

Straightening, he gave her a funny look.

What's that supposed to mean?

I'm running a new spread in the yearbook, she said, taking another picture, it's going to feature snapshots of school celebrities doing average things like the rest of us. I got one of Shirabu blowing his nose this morning. She hefted a smarmy laugh. Then, shifting her gaze about, she added, I even have one of Ushijima walking a dog.

Tendou stared at her intently.

Oh? What kind of dog? He asked, sounding a little too intense. Could you show me?

Ushijima and Akiko had either wasted no time in their rendezvous last night or fell victim to a covert paparazzi stunt well before the summer break. The two had worked extremely hard to remain incognito, but their efforts would be in vain if the yearbook club had any evidence of romantic engagement.

The photographer held her camera close, staring at him suspiciously.

Drats. She was on to him.

Tendou leaned against the fountain.

I mean…it's so rare to see Ushiwaka doing anything outside volleyball. I'm merely curious is all.

He tried his best to appear harmless, going so far as to stuff hands inside his pockets with a small hunch.

This snapshot must have been her pride and glory for she went against her better judgment not to trust him, eager to show off her prize. Alright, but I'm saving this for when we finalize the book, she confided at last. No one else has seen this yet. I haven't even archived it.

Tendou suppressed a smirk, grateful for the knowledge. As he took her camera, he had just enough time to see a peculiar event. There was Ushijima, alright, standing on the sidewalk. But instead of finding Argus tethered to his wrist on a pink leash, the puppy was strapped to his chest in a makeshift snuggly. Upon further inspection, the snuggly was, in fact, a scarf. And nearby, half-hidden by a bush in the foreground, sat Akiko on a bench, holding a broken sandal and looking deeply distraught.

Tendou felt a rollercoaster woosh in his stomach. This picture was taken some time ago. The image was timestamped just a few days before his birthday. It was a miracle the photographer had held onto it this long without giving in to the temptation to publish it in the school newspaper.

Tendou acted fast.

Wait! Who's that? He said suddenly, causing the photographer to whip around and glance down the hall. He pressed the delete button multiple times, clearing her cache history of any evidence.

When she turned to face him again, frowning, he hunched.

Sorry, I thought I saw Taichi picking his nose. Shame. That would have been a good one, he said as he shut the camera off. But instead of handing it back to her, he set it atop the lockers well outside her reach.

Hey! What are you doing?

Tendou lost his patience.

Taking you out of commission, he said irritably. You'll get it back when I feel like it.

There. Maybe that would teach her some manners when it came to snooping around in other people's business.

Tendou returned to class in a considerably darker mood.

Wakatoshi, I don't know how you put up with all this, he said as he resumed their lesson.

Ms. Oshiro had given them a rather lackluster science experiment to complete. They teamed up in pairs, observing slices of onion under a microscope. Ushijima was fishing through their colored pencils while Tendou prepared a slide for their scope. Both of them yawned, still worn out from camp.

Sketch your observations as best you can, said Ms. Oshiro in an equally lackluster tone. You can always refer to your textbooks too.

Everyone in class peered at her strangely.

But what about the Liquid Mercury Demonstration? Someone in the class asked cautiously. Weren't we supposed to bring our biohazard suits to class this week?

Ms. Oshiro stared out the window.

Oh, that's been banned by the school disciplinary committee. She replied as she began to drift around the room in her dull gray dress. Her entire silhouette was a bit drab. Her hair, usually a profusion of angry curls, had been scraped into a stiff bun. The scent of hairspray trailed her like cheap perfume. There's no further need for your suits. Our experiments will be selected and pre-approved by the School Board from now on.

She spoke as if this were a great travesty, but in truth, the class was very much relieved by the news.

I heard the principal got onto her after the Rainbow Flame Demonstration, said a girl under her breath.

Thank goodness, whispered a kid to his lab partner. At least someone's looking out for us.

Tendou found himself commiserating with Ms. Oshiro. This was a strange day for the both of them. She finding herself under the thumb of the school administration, teaching kindergarten-level science to a bunch of spineless high schoolers, and he, the embodiment of true terror and panic, reduced to that of the new poster child of the school popularity contest. Neither of them was particularly known for being law-abiding or safe. This was foreign territory.

When he caught her gaze, he nodded in a show of understanding, but Ms. Oshiro simply passed their table in a daze.

Be careful with the colored pencils, she murmured absently, wouldn't want to poke your eye out, would you?

Ushijima stared at the bald end of his pencil, frowning.

I think she's being facetious, said Tendou to Ushijima. She baby-proofed the cabinets after all.

They glanced to a pair of girls who were trying exceptionally hard to crack the code to get into the shelves where the microscopes were kept. One of them was red in the face and looked ready to punch the cabinet with her fist. The baby-proof seal proved too difficult to crack.

By the time the afternoon had worn on, Tendou's stance on fame was lukewarm. Which was why, as he rounded the corner amid teammates chortling over his viral video, he felt an acute stab of unease when he stumbled into none other than Kazane Fujiwara.

"Hello, fellas," she greeted the team. She was leaning against the shoe lockers with recorder and notepad in hand. "Mind if I have a few words with your middle blocker?"

Tendou groaned.

This was becoming the longest, most emotionally taxing day of his life.

. . . . . . . .

"So tell me, Tendou," said Kazane as she brandished her tape recorder, "has the Guess Monster always been a romantic, or is this your attempt at becoming more assessable to your fanbase?"

Tendou eyed the device carefully. He ran fingers through his hair, attempting to remain cool in front of the chief sports contributor of the school newspaper. She was watching him with her sharp, iron gaze – her powers of perception almost on par with his own.

Tendou proceeded with extreme caution.

"Are we really going to do this, Kazane?" He asked her instead. "I already gave my remarks on the tournament. Surely, you have everything you need for your article."

The cheer captain leaned against the shoe lockers, aware he was evading her question.

"You've become the crowd favorite. Everyone's hungry to know more about you." She hunched her shoulders, frank. "Your opinion on the game is all very well and good, and this stunt with Mrs. Matsushida is really taking flight, but my readers want a good story, and nothing is more exciting – or more shocking – than a budding romance between the notorious Guess Monster and this forthcoming…," she glanced at her notepad, "Magpie Girl."

Tendou cut his gaze to her sharply.

There had been no mention of Magpie Girl in the interview.

That was classified information.

Kazane grinned.

"I'm a journalist," she said, placing a hand on her chest as if in an oath. "It didn't take me long to figure out how many students by the name of 'Suzume' attend our school and which one might possibly catch your fancy. Suzume Hanamura has quite a reputation. She's been brought up on a number of occasions in the Student Government Council meetings."

She raised her brows.

"You two are causing quite a stir among the students at school."

Tendou opened his shoe locker, surprised that several fan letters, and a can of beet greens, slipped out onto the floor. He was very close to the tipping point. Blowing air through his mouth, he tried to ignore Kazane's I-told-you-so look as he quickly gathered them up and tossed them back into his locker.

"Let them stir," He said hotly. "My relationship with her is private." He hurriedly swapped his shoes and closed the locker with an audible slam. When Kazane looked unwilling to budge on the issue, he heaved an exasperated sigh. "I mean it, Kazane. It's none of their business."

He held his ground, peering at her with eyes rimmed with anger and exhaustion. The tactic seemed to work. Kazane uttered a disappointed sigh, but smiled, nevertheless.

"Honestly, Tendou. You surprise me. I never took you for someone who'd pass up a chance at the spotlight," she said as she finally turned off her tape recorder. She waved it in the air in a sign of surrender before stuffing it in her pocket, peering at him with open vexation. "Last year, you were so eager to get in front of the cameras. I thought you'd jump at the chance at having your very own exposé in the school newspaper. What's changed?"

Tendou grabbed his gym bag.

She brought up an excellent point.

A year ago, he would have lavished in the attention, basking in the joy of being the object of everyone's esteem. He fed off his reputation and the validation it seemed to provide. But now…it felt hollow, empty, intangible. A glimmering mirage. It no longer filled the deep void he carried inside himself, the same void that had begun to grow smaller and smaller as of late.

He frowned deeply in thought.

"I don't need it anymore," he said mostly to himself. The words rang with truth, clear as a bell. He looked to Kazane who was equally surprised. "At least, not the same way I did before…Don't get me wrong – I'll always love the spotlight, and I'll always put on a good show, but," he glanced to the end of the hall where his teammates were gathered over their phones, their faces still lit by humor. Shirabu had taken it upon himself to change Ushijima's ringtone to a poor version of Eye of the Tiger. Yamagata was lip-syncing Satsuki's autotuned chorus, using his slipper as a microphone. Their captain was waving to him from the end of the hall, adamant.

"Tendou, come on!" He ordered. "Washijo will have our hides if we're late!"

He grinned.

"I have something more important now," he said to Kazane.

It was strange to utter the words aloud, but by doing so, he felt a deep, personal sureness take root inside himself. The mask of fear had all but shattered, leaving him clothed in a new kind of armor, the kind that radiated with eternal golden fire. He had never felt more comfortable in his own skin or his own mind before. It was a wonderful feeling.

Fame had nothing to do with it.

Kazane sighed.

"Damn you," she cursed him suddenly. "That was good. Editorial spotlight of the year good."

They stared at each other for a moment.

"Alright, I'll back off. You have my word," she said in a huff. "But just know, you had your chance. Popularity is a fickle beast. You're in one moment, out the next."

"Fine by me," said Tendou.

Kazane stuck her tongue in her cheek as she glanced to his team.

"Then that leaves me with one final thing to discuss. Your libero…Hayato Yamagata," she said, watching him fidget with his neck brace at the end of the hall. "My informants tell me he harbors special affection for my protégé." Kazane cut her gaze to Tendou once more, cold and serious. "I intend to pass my title of cheer captain to Isami at the cultural festival. I trust her to lead the squad in my stead. If your friend intends to pursue her, just know, he should start preparing for a thorough interrogation. I won't hand her over to just anyone. Do I make myself clear?"

Gooseflesh crawled down his arms in reaction to her threat.

"Crystal," said Tendou, feeling intense pity for Yamagata.

"Good. In the meantime, I'll try to curb everyone's curiosity. The captain of the girls' soccer club made a full recovery from her sprained ankle this weekend. She's due back on the field this week. Rumor has it the team plans to welcome her with a ceremonial haka. It might be enough to shift some of the attention away from you."

She still sounded skeptical over the fact that he was eager to be out of the spotlight.

Tendou sighed in relief.

"Thanks, Kazane."

She merely lifted a hand in the air as she departed.

. . . . . . .

Tendou crossed the courtyard, trailing behind the others as they made their way for the gym. The realization he had in the shoe lockers left him with a peculiar feeling in his chest, and he wrestled with how he was going to navigate this new popularity.

Did he have it in him to be good? To be a hero? To be the school's new bright, shining star?

People would approach him now. They would go out of their way to befriend him. He would no longer be relegated to the background, lurking like a shadow. He would be at the center of something much larger than himself, a part of their world.

Did he want that?

As if in tune with his dilemma, the universe had him cross paths with the golf club who were headed in the opposite direction toward the driving range. As they spotted him, their bright, cheery voices traveled to his ears with ease.

"You know, I feel like we really misjudged him."

"Yeah, maybe he's not so scary after all."

"The lady from Swan Mart doesn't seem to think so."

They guffawed.

"Come one, let's see if we can take a picture with the Guess Monster–"

Tendou went ridged, his spine straightening all at once.

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

He had nearly forgotten. There was something he despised more than false kindness, and that was presumption. The idea that someone could presume to know him without putting any effort into actually getting to know him. Tendou would never be satisfied in a world ruled by presumption.

The only way to eradicate it was to embrace his true nature – popularity be damned.

A dangerous smile tugged at his mouth.

"Monster?" He echoed, whipping around with a crazed expression on his face. "Oh, I'll show you a monster," he susurrated deeply. Running his tongue over his teeth, he slipped into a devilish stoop, flexing his fingers into claws. "I eat junior caddies like you for breakfast. Your unadulterated fear is part of my balanced diet." He fixed them all with his glinting gaze. "Who wants to go first?"

The golf club scattered like frightened pigeons. One caddy tripped onto his backside and was trampled by another who skidded spectacularly across the lawn. They both scrambled to their feet, kicking up blades of grass as they hastily sped up to join the others who were already halfway across the courtyard. Their screams echoed, ricocheting off the school building.

Tendou watched their retreat with a sadistic grin.

"That's more like it," he drawled. "Can't have them thinking I've gone soft, can I?"

He stood, reveling in his wickedness.

"SATORRRRRRI!"

A voice thundered across the grounds, sweet as honey, and lilting music to his ears.

Tendou whipped around immediately.

"Suzume?"

He caught sight of a boy – no, a girl with boyish hair – bolting straight toward him. She had a blazing, determined look on her face. Her skirt rippled with every footfall that struck the ground, the purple pleats swishing up her golden legs, a sock drowning her ankle as she shortened the distance between them.

Tendou gaped.

Whatever gratification he felt in witnessing the golf club's frightened scamper was replaced by this infinitely more pleasurable sight. Hanamura made quick work of the yard, pelting over the grass to come to a skidding stop in front of him.

She folded over her knees.

"I – I saw you – through the windows!" She forced through gasps of air, panting hard. She pointed at the top floor of the school, holding her side as if she had a stitch. "I couldn't wait – I had to see you!"

Tendou jerked. Her words lanced through his chest like a red-hot poker.

Hanamura stood, beaming.

"I passed!" She told him eagerly. "Oh, Satori! I passed! I get to stay! I'm free!"

The absolution in her voice caused him to fester with elation. Flicking the end of his tie over his shoulder, he crouched down low with his arms spread wide, beckoning her to him.

"C'mere," he ordered.

Hanamura's smile widened and she bounded into his arms, squealing in delight as he lifted her into a whirling tailspin. Her laughter broke the air. When he set her back down again, excitement took over, and they found themselves talking all at once:

"–I saw you at the tournament. You were spectacular–!"

"–Suzume, your hair! It's so short–!"

"–Mei sent me back with a cake. We should celebrate tonight–!"

"–Why are there so many Band-Aids on your legs–?"

"–She made a Devil's Food cake just for you–! With cherry cordials–!"

"–I hardly recognize you–!"

They gazed at each other for a moment, smiling.

Hanamura ran a hand over her hair.

"Do you like it?" She asked him hesitantly. "Reiko says it's very avant-garde."

Tendou grinned.

"What does that mean?" He asked her warmly.

"I'm not sure. Different, maybe?"

He moved closer until there was barely a hands-width between them.

"You are different." He marveled at her clear, bright gaze, the dusky red of her skin. But it was much more than that – everyone came back from summer break a little bit changed, a little bit sunburnt. Hanamura had come back a sharper version of herself. Her voice was low, rich with that sugared lilt, and when she smiled, it was more luminous than sunlight glimmering on fresh snow. She gazed at him as if she carried all the secrets of the world and was ready to embark on her next adventure.

He brushed her cheek with his thumb, murmuring, "but you've always been different."

Hanamura faltered. His reaction must have hit home for she barreled into him like a linebacker. He staggered from the force of her embrace, uttering an "Oof!" as his heart swelled to three times its normal size.

"Your story," she said, burrowing her face into his chest, "I love it. More than you'll ever know."

Tendou tensed, his face growing intolerably hot. He quickly scanned the yard, hoping that the golf club wasn't still somewhere nearby witnessing this tender reunion. He noticed that his team had moved on, and whatever students were left milling about the grounds seemed blessedly preoccupied with their own business. Even so, Hanamura had caught him off guard.

"Thank you," she went on to say with so much heart, it threatened to undo him right then and there. Tendou gritted his teeth. At this rate, she was sending him straight for cardiac arrest. He couldn't breathe, his lungs having completely forgotten the purpose of oxygen, his brain cells swimming frantically inside his skull. But just as he prepared to say something equally heartfelt, she pulled back with a smirk.

"I make a pretty good villain, don't I?"

She raised her brows up and down playfully.

Tendou choked, making a low tsk sound as his face screwed up with wicked ire. He hooked a finger under her bowtie, drawing her close.

"Yeah well, it takes one to know one," he said gruffly.

Hanamura laughed, scrunching up her nose.

Oh, so she knew she caught him off guard, did she?

Thought she was safe in the daylight to do as she pleased?

Tendou smirked.

Not a chance.

Retracting suddenly, he scooped her up bridal style. To his delight, she let out a small shriek, wrapping arms around his shoulders tightly as he swept her off the grass. He took a few strides toward the gym.

"Satori, wait! What're you doing?"

"Practice," he said matter-of-factly, "You're coming with me. Surely, your club can spare you for one afternoon?"

Hanamura balked.

"No! I can't! Washijo won't allow it."

"Sure he will. I'm basically the son he never asked for," he said with extreme confidence. "Now that I'm back to being a player-in-good-standing, he'll allow me this one indulgence. You'll see."

"Satori, I can't."

Tendou refused to put her down. It had been two whole weeks since he last held her in his arms, and he had planned on ensnaring her the moment the opportunity presented itself. She shouldn't have run to him at the golden hour of the day looking so exultant, hoping to run away shortly afterward.

He pinned her with a look.

"And why not? We could use you today," he said. As he lowered his gaze to her mouth, he added, "besides, you've already shown me you know how to toss a few volleyballs, hmm? It'll be fun."

A breath escaped her lips, and he felt her weaken in his arms. An attractive color spread across her face, but it was the green fire of her eyes that held him spellbound. No other person looked at him quite the same way as she did. Her gaze was desirous, spiteful, and a little bit nervous.

He was beginning to crave that look more and more these days.

"No, I mean, I can't," she pleaded with him, squirming. "I have a meeting with the marching band!"

Tendou stopped.

"The what now?"

A voice belted through the air.

"Hanamura, come on! We don't want to be late!"

Tendou peered across the yard to find an unlikely grouping of students at the other end. Asano and Izakaya were there, and so was Hanamura's roommate, Rumi. Asano had a curious knotted hairstyle and was holding an incense diffuser while Izakaya stood dressed in what appeared to be his new mage costume. Rumi was distinguishable by her black hair buns and sardonic look. Nothing out of the ordinary there thought Tendou. But then, standing next to them looking starkly out of place as a wolf among sheep, was Tashima. She scowled at him from across the yard, her expression clearly communicating Yeah, I know. This is weird for me too. But I'm here now, so you're just gonna have to deal with it.

She squinted her eyes as if daring him to argue.

Tendou looked to Hanamura.

"Hang on, you two are speaking again?"

She nodded. "We cleared the air over the weekend. I asked her to collaborate with me on a new experiment. We're partners now."

Tendou frowned.

"A new experiment? You haven't told me about this."

Hanamura grinned, and when she spoke, she uttered the words he absolutely abhorred.

"I know. That's because it's a surprise."

The word 'surprise' echoed in his mind with a dreadful droning. Tendou instinctively curled his lip, remembering the agony of his birthday week. There was nothing he hated more than being the receiving end of a surprise. Not knowing what to expect – it went against his very nature.

Hanamura wrestled free from his grasp, alighting on the ground with a quick fix of her skirt.

"We better hurry, Suzume!" Rumi shouted urgently.

"Coming!" She called back with a wave. Turning to Tendou, she said, "Rumi's taking us to meet the band director. We've been preparing all morning. Wish me luck!"

"For what?"

Hanamura flashed him an attractive smile.

"Cake! Tonight! Mei's treat," she said as she took off running toward the others.

As Tendou watched her leave, he was wracked with the sudden desire for the old maple tree – a place where the two of them could be perfectly alone. The monster stirred inside his chest as he watched her traipse across the lawn with her friends. Her laughing face shone brightly in the sunlight, the dimple in her cheek a blaring taunt.

Tendou tilted his head back, silent.

One thing was absolutely certain.

She wouldn't be able to keep her secret for long. Not if he had anything to say about it.

A/N: Phew! Another meaty chapter. I love the thought of Tendou reorienting his relationship with fame and embracing his villainous nature. He's still very much a showman but he doesn't let the crowd control how he behaves. It was fun to see how he reacted to fangirls, paparazzi, and a tantalizing exposé in the school newspaper. The golf club was a necessary casualty, I'm afraid. XD

That being said, will Hanamura be able to keep Operation Magpie a secret? The Guess Monster's back; fully minted and fresh. These two are about to tango.

"Boom" - X Ambassadors

"Volare" - Gaga Symphony Orchestra

"Physical" - Dua Lipa

Thank you so so so much for your reviews, favorites, and follows! Diane, I'm sending a big bear hug your way! Your reviews always brighten my day. Seriously. I can't thank you enough. Does anyone else enjoy watching those news clips that get autotuned into amazing music videos? I have one that I work out to at the gym, it's so good! Also, I find that failed recorder covers are so wholesome and pure. Just the perfect amount of cringe.

Another chapter is on its way. I hope everyone has a fabulous week!

Until next time,

lavendermoonmilk