Chapter Twenty-Five
Tendou woke up the next day invigorated.
He had encountered that pivotal shift, that rare occurrence when reality surpassed fantasy, and even his wildest daydreams paled in comparison to real life. He kept reliving that moment in the jasmine: a beautiful girl in his arms, the visceral feeling of having nowhere to hide and giving in to temptation – a moment captured in pure technicolor brilliance.
He had stumbled into a world infused by magic. Everything, even the smallest detail, now glimmered with a richness that fascinated him. The mint of his toothpaste tasted fresh, the cut of his dress shirt felt perfect, and the day held more possibilities than he could ever imagine. All this, and he attributed it to Hanamura and her unshakable willingness to stand by his side, to face the world with their own rules and expectations.
He was no longer alone. The school's Guess Monster and Magpie Girl were teaming up at last.
And their mission: world domination.
Tendou stood in the second-year corridor, watching the lawn turn silver as water rushed over the grass. He marveled at how the grounds were shadowed and indistinct, the streetlamps emitting soft, yellow light in the dimness. A storm swirled overhead, pattering the school windows with warm rain. Students traveled from the dormitories under umbrellas, eager to be safe from the weather.
He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, attempting to drown out the voices that surrounded him. Much like yesterday, people had banded together in a tight horde, bombarding him with more questions and praise.
"So, do you eat prunes before or after you work out?" A boy was asking him, a young tennis player. His voice was the most persistent, querying him nonstop. "How often do you stock up on reserves anyway? Do you go through an entire case a week? Do you alternate between the pickled fish and prunes, or is it better to eat them together simultaneously? Also, what's your bathroom schedule like?"
Tendou's eye twitched.
Focusing his gaze on the clockface reflected in the window, he saw that there were ten minutes left until the start of class. He flexed his fingers, waiting. The tennis player started in on a long tangent about the benefits of protein shakes, droning on and on, but then mercifully, Tendou heard the crowd grow silent. Their loud chatter dropped into heated whispers. He could feel them move aside to make way for a new presence that slipped through their ranks like a shadow.
His mouth quirked.
"Well, if it isn't the Guess Monster," said a lilting voice.
There was a bright flash, a bolt of red-tinted lightning that cut across the sky. Thunder shook the windowpanes, making everyone jolt.
Tendou turned around slowly, grinning.
"Ah, Magpie Girl," he drawled. "We meet again at last."
Hanamura was standing among the crowd, her gray sweater sprinkled lightly with rain. Though they had been out late last night, punctuating their walk home with more secret trysts, she didn't show any signs of fatigue. In fact, her face was flushed, her lips swollen with color.
The sight pleased him.
Voices immediately broke out as the crowd glanced between the two of them, their eyes wide.
"Hey, isn't she the one he mentioned on tv?" A girl whispered to her friend. "I heard they're dating!"
There were several gasps.
"What? No way! The Guess Monster has a girlfriend? Since when?" A boy uttered in disbelief.
"Isn't she the one who brought a pitchfork into the school?"
"I heard she collects garbage."
The hall erupted with more gossip.
Tendou clenched his jaw. Just as he anticipated, their public appearance caused a whirlwind of speculations, some of which were not entirely too kind. He bristled on Hanamura's behalf, wanting to shield her from the scrutiny, but their conversation from last night was still fresh on his mind.
Remember, the object of the game is to have fun, she said, holding up a finger. Let's see how far we can stretch the truth until they catch on to us. Deal?
Deal, he agreed, tucking a jasmine flower behind her ear. Are there any rules?
Hanamura took his hand as they set off into the night. She fell silent for a moment, thinking.
Just one, she said after a while. How about…there are no rules?
Tendou squeezed her hand.
I like how you think.
They weren't going to let the school have its way.
This was their game now.
Hanamura was nervous, but he could tell that she was trying very hard to fight back a smile as she stayed in character. Her dimple flashed, but she otherwise remained perfectly serious. "Yes. Behold. It is I," she announced dramatically, sweeping her arms wide. She would have made Mr. Harada proud. "I've come bearing good news. You know that coven we've been trying to join all year?" She spoke loudly for everyone to hear. "The one that dabbles in black magic?"
Her eyes sparkled, clueing him in on the ruse. Tendou felt a thrill of excitement.
This was it. They were really going to do this.
He stooped low, tilting his head. "The Fellowship of Her Imperial Darkness? That one?" He improvised.
Her face filled with wry humor.
"Yep, that's the one." She nodded. "Turns out they have a few vacancies. Two of their members were hexed last week." She shifted her gaze, holding up a hand to whisper loudly, "Word is they plan to recruit at their potluck this weekend. If we bring a blood sacrifice, we're in!"
Tendou saw where she was headed with this and grinned.
"Excellent. That is good news." He rubbed his hands together as he deliberated. Drawing his face into a frown, he added, "that is…if we're able to find one under such short notice."
Hanamura's gaze flickered. "Oh, I've an idea where we could start."
As if rehearsed, they both turned to face the crowd, peering at them with sinister grins. It was fitting that the sky erupted with more lightning and thunder, adding additional dramatic effect to their ploy. Their shadows flashed across the hall, and they watched in satisfaction as several students went pale, their faces glowing with terror.
Everyone immediately began to disperse.
"Er…I better get to class," someone mumbled.
"I need the bathroom."
"I have the sudden urge to konmari my locker," said a boy as he turned on his heel and ran.
Tendou glanced triumphantly to Hanamura. That was exceedingly clever. Now people would be less inclined to approach them for fear of falling victim to witchcraft. It was brilliant. She had breathed life into his story in a way he never thought possible. Just as she had promised, the magpie and demon were leaping from the pages of his manuscript ready to take over the school.
As everyone made their escape, Hanamura turned to him, whispering, "How'd I do?"
He smiled. She was still nervous.
Reaching out to touch her reddened cheek, Tendou froze as the sound of excessively loud breathing filled the hall.
"I'll do it," said a first-year girl with large, protuberant eyes. She emerged from the crowd, still wearing her green raincoat. She held up a hand. "I'll be your sacrifice."
Everyone drew to a halt, astonished.
She approached Tendou, staring at him through her glasses with such intensity he felt a shock of genuine fear run through him. Where did this girl come from? Did she ever blink? For having such a sweet face, she was unerringly frightening.
"Oh, uh…that's alright, Chiyo," said Hanamura with a horrified smile, "This one has to be…uh…male."
Tendou cut his gaze to her in relief. Good thinking, Suzume. Nice save!
But the girl, Chiyo as he had come to learn, merely looked to Hanamura instead.
"I have a kid brother," she stated simply, "You can have him."
Hanamura shrank back, alarmed.
"Er…no. That's – that's okay," said Tendou, finding himself deeply disturbed by her level of devotion. He threw out an arm to shield Hanamura as they both backed up against the windows. "This one needs to be an animal," he quickly fibbed. "You know, a basic entry-level sacrifice."
Chiyo lifted her gaze, breaking into a smile that failed to reach her cavernous eyes.
"Ah, I see." She nodded. "How about my goldfish, Mr. Sprinkles? He'd make a splendid offering."
Hanamura held onto him.
"Satori, what do we do?" She whispered desperately. "This isn't working!"
Tendou shook his head.
"Abandon mission," he said under his breath. "Her powers are too great. Back away slowly."
They, and everyone else for that matter, inched away from the fanatical first year. She took a hit from her inhaler, watching them as another bolt of lightning flashed at the windows, filling her glasses with a fiery glare. She was the spitting image of a screech owl.
"Perhaps another time," she said.
Terrified, Tendou pulled Hanamura into the stairwell like their lives depended on it. A loud rumble of thunder followed them as they hastily sped to the third floor.
Hanamura cut her gaze to him, baffled.
"And just why is Chiyo offering you her pet goldfish for a blood ritual?"
Tendou returned her look, stricken.
"Isn't that what fangirls normally do?" He scratched his head, at a loss. "Wait a minute. How do you know her?"
Hanamura jogged up the stairs, her backpack jostling between her shoulders.
"She's the girl from the astronomy club who won extra credit points," she said, frowning. "Apparently, she's obsessed with stars."
Tendou shuddered. "You could say that again."
As they entered the first-year corridor, they encountered little traffic which meant class was about to begin. Ushering Hanamura to her homeroom, Tendou tugged on one of the straps dangling from her backpack.
"See you around, champ." He flashed her a wry grin. "Thanks for coming to my rescue."
Hanamura returned his smile, looking slightly frazzled. "Until next time."
They waved to each other before he quickly darted back downstairs as the warning bell sounded.
Later, they would agree that for their first run – Chiyo aside, of course – it went pretty well. By lunchtime, rumors of a dark coven permeated the school, casting Hanamura in a mysterious, femme fatale light. Conspiracy theories began to abound as everyone wondered if the things she collected around campus were, in fact, part of black magic rituals. The pitchfork took on a whole new meaning for the students at Shiratorizawa, and Tendou found it highly amusing.
"It's her talisman," someone declared in the hall later that day. "She uses it for spell work."
"I heard she has to take it everywhere she goes," said another student, "or the devil she made a pact with will come and claim her soul."
"Have you noticed she's always hanging around that wizard and redhead too? They've been burning incense all over the school," a boy pointed out to his friends near the water fountain. "Makes you wonder if it's part of some secret ritual. Like, what are they up to? Can't be anything good."
"Oh, it gets worse. Trust me. Did you know they talk about murder during lunch?" Another boy revealed with a flash of his eyes. He made everyone in the hallway gasp. "It's true. I once overheard them discussing how they'd carry out the perfect crime. The redhead subscribes to all these different podcasts. What if it's for research?"
"Well, I saw in a movie once that witches use their hair to cast spells on others. Notice how short she keeps her hair these days?"
"That orange cat's always hanging around her too." A girl frowned. "He must be her familiar."
Shock traveled through the entire school as the rumors solidified.
"My god! It's so obvious," someone commented in awe. "How did we not see this sooner?"
"No wonder she's formed an alliance with the Guess Monster."
"Magpie Girl's a witch!"
Hanamura was right. Catering to the school's weakness for gossip was twice as fun when it was of their own making. With such a captive audience, the sky was the limit. Tendou found himself relaxing back into the spotlight, eager to flex his creativity.
When he presented Hanamura with his calculator later that afternoon in the school lobby, they pretended it was the long-awaited instrument she needed to commune with the spirits. Hanamura tore a page from her math homework and waved it high in the air.
"At last, we'll be able to communicate with the other side," she said loudly. "We can finally put our theory to the test and ask them all our questions! Satori, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"To the belltower!" He announced.
They joined hands and, caught up in the excitement of improvisation, decided to tango passionately down the hall much to everyone's growing bewilderment.
He couldn't remember a time when he had laughed so much.
Hanamura was fun.
As the days stretched on in this manner, he sometimes wondered if life was making up for lost time from his childhood. Playing make believe with her was unique in that he finally had a companion who's imagination was just as vast and vivid as his own. He was continuously impressed by her inventiveness, and as they melded their day-to-day lives together more fully, he began to see the world through her eyes.
Hanamura gave a mystery to things, double-meanings and hidden layers only traceable to the discerning eye. Nothing was exactly as it appeared in her world. With their relationship now on full display, he thought it was genius how she found ways for them to operate in secret without them actually having to hide. When she suggested they have an Opposite Day, Tendou found it liberating. He could say anything he wanted in full earshot of the school, yet she was the only one who understood his true meaning.
"Ah, if it isn't my least favorite person in the world." He waved to her in greeting as they passed each other in the hall.
Hanamura stopped, turning to face him. She lifted a brow. "I can't think of anyone I loathe more than you," she said point-blank. Her statement caused several nearby students to glance at her in shock.
Tendou whipped around, feeling his teammates eye him strangely as he smirked.
"Oh?" Stuffing hands inside his pockets, he sauntered across the hall. All gazes shifted to him uneasily as he approached her. "Well then… let me be the first to assure you that loathing is the least I feel for you," he replied, his eyes burning with warmth. He let his gaze rove over her deliberately as he added, "In fact, the very sight of you makes my skin crawl."
Hanamura blushed, holding her books tightly to her chest as she blinked. "R-Really?" She quickly recovered herself. "I mean – good! Because your smile makes me want to gouge my eyes out."
Tendou felt heat across his neck. "Yeah?"
He approached her until she was standing against the lockers. From the outside, he appeared in every way the proverbial bully cornering his next victim; Hanamura, the plucky young heroine who was going to stand up against the school baddie. They gazed at each other in what looked to be the ultimate showdown. Tendou paused, finding this new dynamic interesting.
He grinned and Hanamura had to bite her lip to keep face.
"Good to know…Good to know," he mused.
Everyone else stared at them with obvious confusion.
"Wait. I'm lost." A girl whispered to her friend. "Aren't they together? They sound like they hate each other." She did a double-take. "Wait a minute, why are you blushing?"
Her friend was cupping her face, staring wistfully. "Is it hot in here to you?" She started fanning herself, loosening her shirt collar. "I feel like I need a cold shower all of a sudden. Holy smokes!"
Hanamura held her ground, peering up at Tendou with an attractive scowl. If it were after hours and the hall vacant, he would have acted on his impulse to fluster her fully. He would have liked to see her hair ruffled, perhaps a button or two come undone – see what it took for her to drop the books and lean into him for support…but before his imagination could run wild, he forcibly halted his train of thought, pocketing that idea for another time.
Yes, Hanamura was fun.
Very, very fun.
He grinned.
"I hope I never see you again," she said in parting. "If I do, it'll be too soon!"
Tendou retracted, his grin turning dark.
"I make it my mission to avoid you every second of every day," he said, bowing to her with a flourish.
Hanamura headed for the library, pausing to yank at her sock clumsily. Tendou returned to his team, smug. Everyone else behaved as if they had just witnessed a horrible breakup.
"Trouble in paradise," someone commented sadly in the hall. "Happens to the best of us."
By the end of August, their escapades in tomfoolery had gotten so good, the whole school was confused by their storyline:
"Okay, so let me get this straight," said the editor of the school newspaper, "she's the heir to a criminal syndicate and he's been assigned to serve as her bodyguard, but she just discovered he comes from a rival clan who sent him to uncover the truth of her ancient family curse?"
"Actually, it's the other way around," corrected the pitcher of the boys' baseball team. "He comes from the mafia, and she's the spy trying to unearth his secret. We found out last week that he was cursed by a red demon. That's why he has such inhuman abilities at volleyball. He's part youkai."
There were several excited gasps.
"What? No way, that can't be true," argued the captain of the academic team. "None of that stuff's real."
This triggered reasonable outrage among the golf club who had been promoting this theory for quite some time now. They were all convinced Tendou was no longer human.
"Then you try explaining how he knows when someone's about to sneeze!" One of them shouted angrily. "The man's a monster!"
The academic team captain wrinkled his nose.
"Well even if that's true, what does that make her then?"
"Turns out she's a witch who specializes in demonic cleansing," said the pitcher. "Her family groomed her at a young age to purify the red demon's heir, preventing him from taking over the mafia. Their two families hate each other, having been embroiled in a centuries-long feud."
"How do we know this?" asked the newspaper editor.
"They had a confrontation in the hallway earlier this week between fourth and fifth period," said a ballerina from the dance club. She rested a hand against her face, blushing. "He discovered her true identity after realizing she's been communicating with her family through objects left all over campus. He found the circle she made out of chopsticks in the courtyard, muttering something about a demon ring." She paused, waiting for everyone to respond appropriately to this sudden development.
There were several intrigued murmurings among the group.
"But – what about the coven?" Someone pointed out. "Weren't they trying to join the F.H.I.D. so they could communicate with the spirit world?"
"The what?"
"You know, the Fellowship of Her Imperial Darkness? They supposedly sacrifice goldfish on the regular."
"Oh, that was just a ruse to get him to trust her," said the ballerina. "He thought she was helping him bridge the gap between the living and the dead when really she was trying to lure him into an exorcism all along!"
"But," said another dancer, holding up a finger, "she confessed she no longer cares about her mission. She's been trying to stall for time by leaving secret messages as a diversion. She's willing to look past their family feud if it means they can be together. She's fallen for him."
The dancers both sighed dreamily.
"But his father recently succumbed to a mysterious illness and his family suspects foul play. He doesn't know if he can trust her after all. She's his sworn enemy," finished the ballerina, growing solemn. "We're waiting to see if they'll be able to reconcile their differences. Her mother's coming into town to introduce her to a potential fiancé, and – get this – he's another exorcist!"
There were gasps of alarm.
"Oh, come on. I hate love triangles," the baseball pitcher complained, folding his arms. "They always muck up the story."
"Don't worry, I think they have a shot," said the ballerina reassuringly. "Even when they hate each other, you can't help but feel a connection between them. They're bound to each other."
The captain of the academic team was staring at everyone with open skepticism. He had listened to their rumors with a sort of mean smile.
"You've kidding me, right?" He scoffed mockingly. "Do you guys even hear yourselves? This sounds an awful lot like the plot to a daytime drama. Are you sure they aren't just messing with us? Seems too contrived."
All members of the gossip committee fixed him with cold looks.
"I don't think," said the ballerina frostily, "you'll find anything purer or more beautiful than a demon and a witch wanting to be together despite all the odds. How dare you even imply it's fake? Just because you're a cynic–" she pointed at him accusingly "–doesn't mean the rest of us denounce true love."
The academic team captain raised his hands in self-defense. "Whoa. Hang on. I…I'm not a cynic!" He argued heatedly, stuttering. "I just happen to really like dramas, okay? And this couple has all the tropes I love: supernatural forces, espionage, bones in the closet, meddlesome family – forbidden romance!"
"Forbidden romance," everyone murmured in agreement.
"The epitome of true love," said the ballerina sagely.
He was back in their good graces.
From there, the gossip committee quickly delved into the finer points of supernatural romance, filling the rumor mills with additional curiosity into the machinations of the school's Guess Monster and Magpie Girl.
It was rather unexpected.
Tendou and Hanamura were surprised to discover that, despite their attempt at sheer ridiculousness, their antics were quickly gaining them school-wide support. Over the coming weeks, the rumors changed in tone, going from invasive and expository to protective and respectful. The school wanted their relationship to work out and therefore started rooting for them, treating them as if they were a power couple worthy of reverence. It was bizarre to think that – should he actually be the heir to the yakuza and she the daughter of a mysterious coven – the school would fight tooth and nail to protect their love.
Life was strange like that. Serendipitous.
"Just wait until they find out you have amnesia," whispered Hanamura eagerly. "Next week, you're going to be placed under a spell that makes you forget all about me."
"And the only known cure is a kiss from a magpie," Tendou whispered back as they eavesdropped on the students holding congress in the cafeteria. "Too bad you'll be possessed by an evil spirit that makes you want to attack me."
Hanamura covered her mouth, laughing.
"I can't wait."
. . . . . . . .
Saito opened every window in the weight room, trying to generate an airflow as the volleyball team worked diligently through their exercises. It was their first day back to the grind after two weeks of convalescence. Nurse Hino had given everyone a clean bill of health, including Yamagata who had been threatened with the cone of shame more than twice. Her blessing was all Coach Washijo needed to unleash his horror on them once more. And such a horror he unleashed.
"The rumors are true," he harrumphed, stuffing the letter he had received from the championship federation inside his pocket. They heard the telltale crunch of stationery as he drew his hand into a fist. "Nationals has been postponed to the end of the year." He furrowed his brow, casting his face in deep shadow. "Our training camp was supposed to have us primed and ready for the tournament next month, but apparently a wedding convention," he announced in a light, derisive tone, "was booked on the same day as our event."
The team eyed him cautiously.
He wasn't taking the news well. His blood pressure spiked, turning his face a dark, ruddy color. He gnashed his teeth together in fury. Anything that got in the way of his volleyball agenda was treated as a personal attack, but having it come in the form of gowns and flowery cakes was the ultimate insult.
Washijo narrowed his gaze, channeling his wrath on the team.
"But never fear, gentlemen. There's plenty of things we can work on between now and then." He gave them all a mirthless grin. "Of that, I can assure you."
Behind him, Yunohama paused to dab at his eyes with a towel. It was unclear whether he was wiping away sweat or tears of despair. The first year had grown so obedient over the past few weeks, they were all beginning to worry he was suffering from Stockholm syndrome.
Nowadays, when Washijo said jump, Yunohama asked how high.
Usually with a smile too.
Tendou adjusted his grip on the cable machine, running through his bicep curls one last time. He felt the dull pain of lactic acid build up inside his arms, and the breeze at the windows did little to alleviate the roasting temperature in the room. Releasing the cables, Tendou stepped back, lifting the end of his shirt to dry his face.
So, Nationals is postponed, huh?
He considered the news as he caught his breath.
This was not as bad as Washijo made it out to be. A slight delay in the tournament season was good. It meant Tendou would have more time to focus on other things. He could finally catch up on Crimson Warrior, finish the final touches to his manuscript for Mr. Harada, maybe even visit an onsen for a much-needed soak. All of this was cast aside; however, the moment he fixated on Hanamura's rebellion.
Tendou paused, the thought churning inside his mind with sudden fervor.
A grin touched his lips.
Hanamura may have evaded his question the night they celebrated with cake, but he was still bound and determined to discover her secret. She had presented him with his most challenging game yet, and what was the Guess Monster if not a sportsman? What was his unique skillset if not the perfect weapon for sleuthing? He had his gifts at his disposal: patience, intuition, confidence…and he was prepared to use them all if only to test his mind against hers.
They were rivals, after all. Was this not a matter of competition between them?
As he swapped places with Ushijima at the squat rack, Tendou eased into position, lifting the bar onto his shoulders and sinking down to the floor. His legs strained against the weight, but it was there, crouched over the rubber mat, that he felt most like a hunter. All the power in his body condensed until it was pressurized – ready to spring, ready to burst.
He was primed for the perfect gambol.
Rising slowly, Tendou eased the bar through its oiled tracking.
A game was only ever as exciting as the skill level of his opponents. Tendou had learned early on to recognize a worthwhile adversary and found one gladly in Hanamura. She refused to give in to him, and that resistance only served to stoke his excitement, motivating his drive to pursue her.
If he learned her secret, perhaps then he would finally have her unraveled. He could extract the pearl that was the source of all those sunbeams behind her smile. Gain insight into her mind.
The thought thrilled him.
Their chase through the darkened school had turned into a game of seduction. One in which they both struggled, vying for the upper hand through an intricate battle of wills. As much as Tendou loved chasing, Hanamura was equally gifted at escaping, and he found himself lost in the hunt. This would be no different.
Flexing his fingers against the bar, Tendou smirked.
Yes. With Nationals placed on the backburner, he was now free to do as he pleased.
His smile grew wider.
"Oi. What's with the creepy face?" Semi griped, holding a pair of dumbbells. The sweatband he was wearing to keep his hair pushed back was completely soaked.
Tendou set the squat bar back into its notch, draping his arms over it casually.
"Oh, nothing," he replied. "Just thinking some self-indulgence is in order. That's all."
Semi fixed him with a hard look.
"Aren't you devastated? You've been jonesing for a game ever since we got back. Look at Ushijima."
They both glanced to their ace who was currently staring at the floor with a dejected slope to his shoulders. He was taking the news hard as well, but his reaction was far more subtle than Washijo's. When he resumed his chest presses again, they noticed it was done with fractionally less gusto.
Tendou cast him a sympathizing look.
"It hasn't been canceled, Wakatoshi. Just postponed," he assured him. "Don't let it get you down."
Ushijima sighed despondently.
"Ah."
"DID I SAY YOU COULD STOP?"
Tendou and Semi tensed, resuming their exercises before Washijo could induce further panic.
. . . . . . .
That evening, as the team headed back to the dorms for dinner, Tendou decided to give Hanamura's secret his full attention. He would do what he always did best. He would blend into his surroundings, train his attention on the opposing side, and when Hanamura wasn't watching, he would pinpoint any 'tells' that gave her secret away.
He had attempted this in the past and failed, but their game of hide-and-seek over the summer showed him that he was learning. Her book was not filled with gibberish as he originally thought, but a secret code. He merely needed to decipher the code to unlock her text – and already he had his first clue.
She was planning something, and that something was big.
It was evident in the way she conducted herself: head held high, eyes aglow, moving with extreme purpose throughout the school. She was a girl on a mission, and as her confidence grew, it began to carry over to her friends as well. Tendou was accustomed to assessing the strengths and weaknesses of rival teams, weighing their individual skills against their collective power. It was the combination of the two that he gleaned the most information. As he trained his gaze on the art club, he noticed that there was a fundamental shift taking place among them.
Magpie Girl had grown her flock, and in the spaces between classes, lunches, mornings, and afternoons, he spotted them gallivanting across campus on a bizarre collection of errands. Her industriousness was now shared by her cohort as they combined their skills, working together collaboratively.
They were a team.
On Monday, they were seen outside in the courtyard, conducting a general land survey of the main lawn. From his place behind the water taps, Tendou watched as Asano and Izakaya stretched out a measuring tape. Behind them, Hanamura drove sticks with yarn deep into the grass, plotting out a square large enough to fit an inground swimming pool. Measurements were then called out and carefully recorded by Tashima who stood alert with her portfolio. While they worked, three members from the theater club followed President Fukuhara as she elaborated on a grand plan.
"The stage will need to go here, facing the school," she said, holding out her arms. "We'll also need to accommodate several rows between the sidewalks." She motioned like a flight attendant, using her middle and index fingers to point. "The sides will need to remain open for the marching band, but the director has asked that his dais be moved to the front at center stage. Can we have that pulled from the music hall?"
The theater club members nodded, sketching a blueprint over a map of the school.
"We'll get this over to the scene shop for fabrication," said the lead set designer as she rolled up the map and handed it to one of her colleagues. "Leave everything to us. Our lighting crew will contact you in a few days to go over electric."
Fukuhara shook hands with her, flashing a silver-brace smile. "Wonderful. We look forward to working with you."
Tendou watched as Hanamura frolicked inside the large square. She seemed to be testing the expanse, getting a feel for the space. She stood with her feet wide apart and began to twist her upper body, behaving as if she were tossing something. She did this a few more times before stopping to speak with Tashima.
Tendou furrowed his brow.
What on earth are you doing? He wondered.
A few days later, a white van showed up behind the school as Tendou and the team returned from their weekly pilgrimage up the hill. They watched as a man in a blue jumpsuit exited the cab. He lifted the back of his truck to reveal a cargo of rusted paint pails. The entire art club lined up, passing old tins of latex paint down the line until a large pile was stacked neatly on a cart resting under a tree.
The whole transaction would have appeared normal if it were not for Izakaya. He was keeping watch with a nervous expression on his face. His whole demeanor was circumspect, making him stick out like a sore thumb. As he turned around to scan the school grounds, Tendou lurched into action.
"Quick! Hide," he ordered the team, corralling them back into the trees surrounding campus. He had them all lay flat on their stomachs in the grass. It didn't take much persuasion. They were all eager for a rest. Ushijima plopped down onto a patch of clover, despondent.
"What's this about?" Yamagata griped as he army-crawled over to Tendou. "Another one of your bits?"
"Shush." Tendou smacked a hand to his face, silencing him. "Suzume and the gang are up to something, and I want to know what that something is," he whispered thinly. "Takashi seems way too anxious, don't you think?"
They all watched as Izakaya wrung his hands, keeping a close watch over the main building. He stood alert in the grass, reminding Tendou strongly of a weasel ready to bolt at the first sign of a hawk. When the doors to the school opened, he jumped, cupping hands to his mouth.
"Ka-kaw! Ka-kaw!"
The others glanced to him anxiously.
"Principal's secretary! Twelve o'clock," Izakaya warned them as he dove behind the nearest bush.
Hanamura nodded. "Right. Let's move out!"
President Fukuhara quickly signed the truck driver's invoice, and Tendou thought he seemed hesitant, maybe even a bit concerned, by the furtive activity happening around him. Hanamura threw a white sheet over the cart as they smuggled it back into the school. Izakaya crawled out from behind the bush and scampered after them.
The driver scratched his chin.
"Er…Whatcha kids got planned with all this paint?" He asked Fukuhara cautiously.
She handed back his clipboard, flashing another silver-brace smile.
"Inventory," she said breezily. "It's always nice to have fresh colors on hand, wouldn't you agree?"
The driver frowned.
"I s'pose." He drew out the words, narrowing his eyes. Then, as if he felt compelled to speak his conscience, he added, "just so long as you kids aren't huffing it, right?"
Fukuhara blanched. For one long, hair-raising moment, they stared at each other intensely.
She dissolved into a fit of laughter.
"Oh!" She snickered. "Oh, very funny, sir. You got me! I like your sense of humor," she replied, slapping her knee. "Huffing paint! Could you imagine?" Fukuhara belted another string of laughter before wiping her eyes. It put the driver more at ease. "Anyway, thank you for donating your surplus paint to our club," she said in parting. "Let's do this again. Shall we say…same time next week?"
He nodded. "Sure."
As the volleyball team watched Fukuhara dart back into the school, they all looked to Tendou curiously.
"That was enough paint to coat the entire neighborhood," said Semi, "and they need more? What are they up to?"
"That, fellas, seems to be the question of the hour," said Tendou as he finally released Yamagata's face. The libero rubbed his nose, eyes watering. He shot Tendou a baleful look. "When Suzume said she was working on a new experiment, I had no idea it was going to be this big of a production." Tendou narrowed his gaze. "This has graduated beyond a few milk cartons, that's for sure."
Reon rubbed his chin in thought. "Think they're planning something for the culture festival?"
Tendou had arrived at the same exact conclusion. It was clear to him now that this was a coordinated effort. The whole club was involved, planning a spectacle that would take place on an outdoor stage with copious amounts of paint. Furthermore, they were relying on the expertise of several other student organizations; chiefly, the music and theater departments. He was shocked to learn the marching band was somehow involved. Ryuunosuke Hara was known to be an insufferable diva. At least two people had punched him in the face since he attended Shiratorizawa. The mere fact that he was cooperating with the art club was monumental.
This level of organization was beyond anything he had ever seen Hanamura attempt, and he was dying to know what she had planned.
His curiosity was set aflame.
When he showed up for his creative writing class the next day, he decided to train his careful observation on Tashima. She had become Hanamura's other half these days, the yin to her yang. He never imagined he would be competing with the serious blonde for Hanamura's attention, but Tashima proved to be another formidable opponent. She kept a stern governance on things much like a vice commander. In fact, he still chafed at the rules she had laid down at the beginning of the term, spelling out in no uncertain terms that he was not to become a menace.
She just got her grades back up, said Tashima, jabbing a finger in his face, and they're gonna stay that way. Capeesh?
Tendou flattened his gaze.
Yeesh, came his sour reply.
No more surprise visits to the studio either unless it's outside of club hours, added Tashima much to his dismay. She has a habit of losing her head whenever you show up unexpectedly. We can't have that. We need her focused.
Tendou perked up.
She loses her head? He asked, pleased by this sudden news. He liked knowing he put her in a tizzy simply by being around her. Tashima did not share in his satisfaction. She glowered.
I've got my eyes on you, Satori Tendou, she warned him coldly. Don't think I don't know what you're up to. Hanamura seems to think she has everything under control, but I know what you're capable of. Mark my words, I'll have you banished from the studio before I let you come between us and our work. Do I make myself clear?
Tendou had a distinct impression that a white snake was poised ready to strike.
He schooled his expression.
Transparently, he muttered.
Though his relationship with Tashima remained prickly, he was glad to see her getting along with Hanamura again. The two painters were polar opposites of each other, but their commonality in a shared goal seemed to further accentuate their differences, highlighting their unique talents. Tashima was all rules, figures, and plans, whereas Hanamura was all vision, impulse, and feeling. The fact that they were collaborating – merging one's precision with the other's spontaneity – was not so unlike Ushijima and himself. That combination had always produced miracles in volleyball. He was curious to see how it translated into art as well.
Tendou slipped into his chair, catching Tashima speaking quietly with Yamada near the windows. He kept watch over them as he set his book on the desk, flipping to their most recent reading assignment.
"Well? Are we on track?" Yamada asked as she too got out her anthology of short stories.
Tashima darted her gaze around the room, hypervigilant. Her eyes fell on Tendou, her mouth drawn into a scowl. He quickly dropped his gaze, making sure to appear enthralled with their latest reading assignment. He flipped through his book, running a finger down the page, oblivious.
Satisfied, Tashima nodded. "They ran it in this week's Shiratorizawa Chronicle," she whispered. "It's hidden in the classified section. Anyone who's in the know will know what to look out for. It's failproof."
"Perfect," said Yamada, smiling. "I suppose now all we need to do is wait."
Tashima smoothed her ponytail, smug.
"Game, set, match," she murmured.
Tendou lifted his book to cover his own smugness.
So, they're recruiting members through the school newspaper, huh? How very egalitarian of them.
His mouth thinned into a leer.
Over the next three days, Tendou thought he was exceptionally clever for tracking down a copy of the school newspaper where he found the secret ad tucked in the classified section. It came in the form of a small bird inked in the margins of the page. It was completely filled in except for a cryptic line of white text made from numbers and letters. At first, he thought it was a password to one of the computers in the library. Or the call tag to a book. But after some quick research, he discovered it was actually a set of coordinates leading to the bulletin board on the third floor.
Heart racing, he climbed to the first-year corridor, searching among the flyers for a clue. Eventually, he began to recognize that certain words had either been circled or highlighted. It took him the better part of an afternoon to realize they mapped out a riddle.
Back and forth, side to side, sometimes I shoot into a diagonal slide.
In the end, all lay down before me. Who am I?
Tendou tilted his chin, thinking.
A magpie sure had curious ways of recruiting members to her flock. Had Hanamura thought to include an aptitude test in her recruitment process? He appreciated her dedication to secrecy. This was far more engrossed than he ever expected.
He mulled over the riddle.
"The Foxtrot? Hmm. No," he murmured, pinching his chin. "The quadratic formula? No, that's not right either…hmm." He crossed his arms and stared at the floor. He noticed for the first time that the tiles were made from two different shades of white, patterning the floor like a checkerboard. As he fixated on the squares, he thought of himself moving to the words of the riddle. "Back and forth, side to side, sometimes with a diagonal slide–"
"It's a queen."
"ACK!" Tendou lunged into the air, completely caught by surprise. His heart leaped into his throat.
Chiyo was standing behind him, observing the bulletin board with her large, unblinking eyes.
"Ch-Chiyo, I didn't hear – I mean, see you!" He gasped, quickly trying to recollect himself. He stood flush against the wall with hands clutching the corkboard, the buttons of his dress shirt taut. "H-H-How long have you been standing there?"
"I followed you from the library," she informed him, unabashed. "Are you on some kind of hunt?"
Tendou inched back against the corkboard. He hadn't realized he was being followed all this time. He found her surveillance of him deeply unnerving.
"Er…Sort of," he alleged, hankering for an escape. He wondered if he could shake her off by darting into the boys' restroom. The window inside opened up to the third story ledge which wrapped around the school. It was perfectly feasible to climb it until he could break into a nearby classroom.
Chiyo breathed loudly as she studied the bulletin board.
"It's talking about a queen."
"Huh? What?" Tendou murmured distractedly, pulling his gaze from the restroom.
"The riddle," she pointed to the flyers. "The queen's the only chess piece that can move back and forth, side to side, and diagonally. She's also the most powerful piece on the board."
"It's talking about chess?" Tendou frowned.
"Maybe you ought to visit the club," Chiyo suggested. "Their room is right down the hall."
Tendou studied her with a strange smile.
"Uh…Yeah, okay. I think I will," he agreed. "Thanks for the help."
Tendou scratched his cheek. Maybe she wasn't as scary as he thought. Just deeply misunderstood. If he could get past the glassy, unseeing eyes and ragged breathing, perhaps there was a normal girl underneath all that fanaticism.
"You're welcome," said Chiyo. "Would you like to see the photo collage I'm making of you in home economics?"
Nope, definitely terrifying.
Tendou squinted his eyes. "Maybe another time," he offered weakly.
Chiyo nodded.
"Okay."
Tendou wasted no time darting into the classroom at the end of the hall. Sliding the door closed behind him, he found the chess captain stewing over a board, evidently playing against himself. Glancing up, his gaze flickered with recognition.
"Tendou," he greeted somewhat surprised. "How unexpected. To what do I owe this pleasure?"
Tendou eyed the empty room.
"The newspaper," he answered cryptically.
The third-year leaned back in his chair, smoothing the lapels of his blazer.
"Ah, I see," he mused. "You're the first person to make it this far, you know." He studied Tendou with a discerning grin. It gave Tendou the strong impression he had just made contact with a secret informant of the rebellion. The chess club captain was putting on airs, behaving very suave. He was the Clark Kent of Shiratorizawa after all. "Play a game with me, won't you?" He leaned over the chessboard, peering at Tendou over his interlocked fingers. "I might have some…pertinent information to share with you. That is – should you prove worthwhile."
Tendou flexed his fingers.
This was one hell of a recruiting process.
After a riveting battle against the chess club captain – one in which he managed to win by the skin of his teeth – Tendou obtained a combination code to a locker on the first floor. "There, you'll find instructions on where to rendezvous with our recruiters," said the chess captain. "All you need to do is show up, and they'll give you your missive as a new member of Operation Magpie."
Tendou quirked his lips.
So that's what they're calling themselves, he thought eagerly. Magpie Girl has really outdone herself.
Sensing he was coming to the end of his hunt, Tendou obtained the directives hidden in the locker on the first floor and followed the map to the sports annex. It led him to the room where the girls' badminton team was currently gathered, standing underneath the large banner of their club motto: Badminton to the Bone.
Tendou eyed them all curiously. These were the recruiters of Hanamura's secret rebellion? It seemed an odd and random choice. They each had their rackets and were passing a shuttlecock idly amongst themselves. Upon his arrival, their captain stepped forward, a third-year girl with sandy blonde hair and a shirt that said Give 'em the bird. She rested her racket against her shoulder, stern.
"Who sent you?" She asked him.
Tendou straightened to his full height, smug. "Operation Magpie."
She nodded solemnly.
"Very well. We were told to give you this," she said, handing him a white envelope.
The missive!
He took it, feeling triumphant.
Ah, so we've come to the end of this long, difficult journey at last.
Slipping a finger under the seal, Tendou opened the card inside and was immediately assaulted by a burst of pink glitter. He shut his eyes, yelping in surprise. It coated his face, catching at his lashes so that the only thing he could see was a kaleidoscope of color. If that wasn't bad enough, the card had a sound bite of children's voices cheering Yay! You did it!
Something else fluttered to the floor, a pink-and-teal slip. He snatched it, realizing it was a coupon for a free donut. On the back, Hanamura had written:
Gotcha. Nice try, but I believe this makes our tally 3 to 2 now. Very truly yours, Suzume.
The badminton club giggled.
Tendou blinked.
Had he…Had he just been had?
Had the Guess Monster fallen for a trap?
Magpies are notoriously smart birds, Satsuki's voice echoed in his mind. Did you know they collect objects to use as tools? Or that they can organize complex social networks among other birds? They can even learn to mimic sound and behavior. Very tricky birds, indeed.
Tendou stood in awe.
Hanamura was a magpie through and through – She learned. She overcame. She adapted.
He had vastly underestimated her.
In volleyball, he was trained to look past any feint, to deflect any attempts at diverting his attention. He had gotten so good at it, most of it was muscle memory by now. But where he was primed for it on the court, he was shocked to discover he had grossly misapplied his talents to a wild goose chase.
Hanamura had done it again.
She had flipped the script.
Euphoria bloomed inside his chest. He was enamored.
Tendou looked up, the motion sending pink glitter raining from his hair. He shook his head, spitting more sparkles out of his mouth. Returning the coupon inside the card, he folded it and tapped it against his palm.
"Ladies," he said to the badminton club with a feverish smile, "as you were."
Their laughing faces quickly sobered as they watched him turn on his heel and leave the clubroom. He had a blazing, predatory aura about him as he strode back toward the school.
Some retribution was in order, and fortunately, he knew exactly how to go about exacting it. Tendou had discovered, much to his astonishment, that there was something he loved more than volleyball and that was teasing Hanamura. Though his teammates would forever remain an endless source of entertainment, the perfect fodder for sharpening the claws of his wit, there was something uniquely…titillating about teasing a girl.
It unleashed the monster in him.
He loved knowing that with just the few weapons at his disposal – a kind word, a crooked smile, a soft touch – he could coax that rosy blush from her cheeks, stoke that fiery look in her eyes so full of heat it threatened to melt him. He loved baiting the retaliation she promised behind her crescent smiles. The danger of the pendulum swinging was ever-present whenever they found themselves in these compromising situations, and Tendou lived for such danger.
Like right now.
"Easy, easy," he soothed her, gently grasping her leg. Hanamura stilled, sprawled with her back against the floor, propped up by her elbows. The laughter had died away on her tongue, and now she was watching him with a flustered look on her face. He had managed to flick her slipper off before she started fighting back, but he had her caught between the wall and the kotatsu. Her chest was heaving slightly, skirt splayed. He hovered over her for a moment, perfectly still.
"There. That wasn't so hard, was it?"
"Satori, we shouldn't be doing this," she whispered, her mouth drawn into a smile. "We'll get into trouble!"
They were sequestered in one of the study rooms in the library, their textbooks spread out across the table before them. The door was closed, but the thin, vertical windows on either side gave them a view of the darkened reference section. It was quiet this late in the evening. Ms. Moriyama had left her two student workers in charge who were busy playing computer games at the front desk.
Tendou assessed the risk involved and had a hunch they were perfectly safe.
But Hanamura didn't need to know that. He was still smarting over her wild goose chase and derived immense satisfaction in seeing her nervous.
"Maybe," he shrugged, slipping his hand down to her ankle, "but you wanted my help with your homework, remember?"
She turned a delicious shade of red. Bright as a Bing cherry.
"What was the question again?" He asked.
Hanamura turned her head, glaring at the wall.
"Suzume?" He drummed his fingers under her foot, making her jerk.
She strained against his hold.
"N-Name the major muscles in the leg," she stammered, blowing air into her cheeks.
"Ah, that's right." Tendou pinched the sock at her toes and slowly slipped it off, revealing her smooth shin. He could still make out the faded welts where she had been stung over the summer. He brushed his thumb over a rose-colored mark, watching it pale from the pressure. They were both acutely aware of his actions. Hanamura slowed her breathing almost as if she were in a trance. He flipped her sock over his shoulder, resting her foot on his thigh. "We cover this often in practice," he said softly. "Tanji has us do special stretches to protect the muscles in our legs."
He let go of the black hoodie string he had been worrying between his teeth.
"First, the Achilles tendon," he said, laying two fingers at the base of her heel. "Known as the longest and strongest tendon in the human body, it runs from the heel to the calf." He ran his fingers along the back of her leg, illustrating its position. The slow motion caused her to tense. He watched her bite her lip to keep from gasping and pressed on, emboldened. "Second, the soleus. Part of the plantar flexor muscle, also known as the powerhouse muscle of the ankle joint – vital for walking, running, and–"
"Kicking," she said in warning.
Tendou tugged her foot, slipping his fingers just above the hollow of her leg.
"That would be your hip flexors," he countered with a slow grin. "The hamstrings in your thigh to be more precise." He dragged his gaze from her leg to her face, projecting a mask of complete innocence. He couldn't help it. A smirk bled through as he asked, "Shall I show you?"
Conflict marred her face, and for a moment Hanamura could do nothing but gape at him. The pendulum swung between them, and his heart raced. She liked being teased, even if she was burning holes through his face with her glare. She liked being touched. Her blush was visible proof of that fact. But always, he put the ball in her court, and Hanamura operated under the basis that it wouldn't do if either of them were too willing. It would give up the game too quickly.
"Still sore over the scavenger hunt, huh?" She taunted him. "You must admit it was pretty fun."
Tendou held her gaze, smoldering.
"Oh, not as fun as this," he quipped, leaning forward and kissing the inside of her knee.
There was a sharp intake of air. Then, a spiral notebook descended audibly over his head. Hanamura whopped him with her biology notes, causing him to erupt into a fit of laughter. As he leaned back, she got to her knees and forced his hood over his head, yanking at his strings so that he couldn't see. Tendou didn't try to fend her off, his heart still racing with adrenaline from the daring move he just pulled.
Revenge tastes rather sweet, he thought with private joy.
Though his study group privileges were revoked that evening, he thought it was well worth it.
Hanamura never got her sock back.
A/N: I have a confession to make. Bad Boy-Tendou is very fun to write. He's wily, conniving, and loves to make the girl blush. I had so much fun letting my imagination run wild with all the crazy schemes he and Hanamura invent to wage war on the school and each other. Turning their relationship into a soap opera inspired one hell of a steamy AU plot though...I didn't expect that. O.O
Also, if I had to choose a character as my self-insert, Chiyo takes the cake. *cups face* I love her so much. Nothing brings me more joy, or more entertainment, than the idea that the only person Tendou genuinely fears at school is his number one fangirl. That dynamic is too precious. XD
We're getting close to the end game, so these chapters are going to start getting denser as we go along. It might take me longer to post, but the updates will be the equivalent of a four-course meal: decadent, flavorful, spicy, and sweet…That's my hope, at least. Fortunately, this is the first half of a massive chapter I ended up splitting into two parts. Another update is right around the corner.
"Blinding Lights" – The Weeknd
"Check It Out" – Oh the Larceny
"Four Old Ladies" – Daniel Pemberton
And holy smokes, you guys! Your reviews have me on my knees with FEELS. You've rendered me black-and-blue with absolute happiness. Thank you so much. Your reaction is everything I hoped for and so much more. When this idea first came to me, I shrugged it off thinking it was too ambitious, but I'm so glad I went for it anyway. This has helped me improve my writing in leaps and bounds. By developing a romantic foil for Tendou, I discovered a unique opportunity in Hanamura to explore some serious themes which make the heart of this story. To hear you have a strong emotional response, and at times have to pause to catch your breath, wow. Just wow. This is every writer's dream come true. I can't thank you enough.
Happy Valentine's Day everyone. More is on the way!
lavendermoonmilk