Chapter Twenty-Nine

Monday found all of Shiratorizawa seated in the gym for an early morning pep assembly. The creaking of chairs could be heard across the tarp-covered court as everyone assembled in a carefree mood, having enjoyed a weekend of rest and relaxation. As everyone's drowsiness began to fade, conversations steadily grew as remarks were exchanged with neighbors.

"Is that him?" A girl from the riding club was murmuring excitedly to her friends. "The hand model?"

She was pointing to a young, polished-looking man seated among the rest of the faculty on the stage; the new substitute teacher who was filling in for Mrs. Miyoshi while she was visiting her newest grandbaby. Seated as he was between Mr. Harada and Coach Washijo, he appeared to be in every way a vampire in the flesh: dark, alluring, resplendent.

The girls sighed.

"Apparently, he's an undercover actor doing research for his next role," whispered a girl with curled pigtails. "One in which he falls in love with a student!"

There was a round of snickers.

"Normally, I keep good grades, but goddamn," said her friend, drooling, "look at that smile! He can give me detention every day of the week for all I care. Memorize important dates in history?" She scoffed. "He can be one of them."

The riding club dissolved into more laughter.

Behind them, Tendou reclined in his chair, grinning as he dragged his gaze over the gathered crowd. With everyone under the same roof, it occurred to him just how many students attended the school. Rarely were they ever assembled like this except for their entrance ceremonies, and it made for an impressive sight. All student organizations were in attendance; everyone from archeology to zoology. The cheer squad presided high up in the mezzanine while the marching band stood at the foot of the stage in their white and maroon livery. Ryu was among them, conducting the school anthem with exaggerated zeal.

"Washijo seems to be enjoying himself," murmured Semi dryly.

Tendou lifted his gaze back to the stage, noticing how their coach was radiating this-could've-been-an-email vibes. He sat with his arms crossed over his chest, his expression surly. He was never one for school functions that fell outside volleyball, believing them to be a complete and utter waste of time; a fact that was especially true now given the absence of Nationals. He was the smallest faculty member present, and yet his foul mood engulfed the stage, filling it with an intense, black aura. Saito – ever his counterpart – sat on his right, kindly engaging the new substitute teacher in polite conversation.

"What's happened to Harada? He's as threadbare as ever," commented Jin from his place a couple of chairs down. The team glanced his way, prompting him to explain. "When I turned in my career assessment form last week, I found him in fetal position under his desk."

"That's funny," said Reon. "I found him in fetal position in the cafeteria."

Yamagata perked up. "I found him in fetal position in the front lobby – behind the ferns." He paused, rubbing his chin. "Come to think of it, he might have been crying."

Tendou spared a sympathizing glance for his creative writing instructor. Midterms had coincided with career assessment week, forcing him to work double-duty as both instructor and counselor. Unsurprisingly, the burden had grown too great as he began dispensing career advice to his classes and writing assignments to his appointees, getting everyone confused. When a third-year boy declared he wished to pursue a career in literature (no doubt thinking it would be well-received by the school's literary expert), Mr. Harada surprised him with wild laughter, telling him he might as well join the circus for all it was worth.

This must have preceded the emotional meltdown Yamagata witnessed in the lobby soon after.

In an effort to save Mr. Harada additional stress, Tendou's class took the initiative to submit their drafts into the short story competition on Friday. It was the only shred of hope he still clung to ardently.

The results will be announced in a week's time, he shared with them in a dry, raspy voice. The whole class gathered around him as he laid on his desk, perched like a dying prophet before his disciples. If anyone of you makes it as a finalist, my faith in education shall forever be restored…I might actually stay on as your instructor next year. He stopped, giving a weak cough as he stared at some distant point in the future. Who knows…maybe even postpone my early retirement…but no pressure, of course.

It was then that he fainted – or pretended to have fainted. Either way, it was disturbing enough for the entire class to rush him to the infirmary where he could be looked after by Nurse Hino.

Is he going to be alright? Tendou asked her, laying Mr. Harada onto one of the hospital beds. The others gathered behind him, looking anxious.

Nurse Hino lifted a large needle. She flicked it, observing the red liquid underneath her incandescent lights. Not to worry, boys and girls, she assured them a bit too eagerly. Her gaze dropped onto the prone figure of Mr. Harada, the sparkle in her eye deeply concerning. A quick shot of Vitamin B12 in the old tush and he'll be right as rain, she explained. Now scoot. Off you go. Best not stick around for this. She tugged the pink curtains closed behind her, murmuring, there's about to be a full moon if you catch my drift.

Tendou fled the scene with the rest of his class, leaving Mr. Harada to his fate.

It was purely by coincidence that Nurse Hino was sitting next to Mr. Harada now, hands clasped over a knee, golden bangles shining. She had abandoned her white lab coat for a lavender frock that was simple yet elegant. She surveyed the students with a dignified air, giving off the impression that she was the true headmistress of the school. Principal Sato sat next to her, appearing squat and thoroughly uptight.

Tendou too felt a twinge of unease. Seeing them together like this resurfaced the discussion he overheard in the teachers' lounge, and, cutting his gaze over the crowd once more, he was quick to spot Hanamura sitting with the art club across the aisle. She was speaking to Tashima who tapped a silver pen against her cheek, seeming lost in thought. The two had disappeared over the weekend, making themselves unusually scarce. Tendou observed them with a furrowed brow.

Sensing his gaze, Hanamura glanced his way. Green met red, and the invisible tether drew tight between them again. He broke into a half-grin, eager to see a red hue darken her cheeks.

Don't forget. We have unfinished business, you and I, he conveyed, stroking a thumb across his lip.

Her dimple flashed in response. Without breaking eye contact, Hanamura murmured something to Izakaya who turned to her, confused. Removing his glasses, he passed them to her. Hanamura reached into the pocket of her blazer and withdrew a familiar slip of purple plaid. Frosting the glasses with her breath, she made a grand show of polishing the lenses using Tendou's tie. The corner of her mouth lifted into a leer.

Oh, I haven't forgotten, she conveyed back, eyes gleaming.

Tendou sank in his chair, that low, burning hunger stirring to life again. Resting his hands on his thighs, he bounced a knee in agitation. The things he would do to her once given the chance…

"Ehem. Good morning." Principal Sato stood at the podium, clearing his throat as he waited for Ryu to give the final swish of his baton. It was another long, gratuitous moment before the music fizzled out into a seemingly unending flutter of a single flute. Ryu flipped his hair, turning to bow to the gym, then to the principal, then to the marching band before finally resuming his seat at the foot of the stage.

Principal Sato glowered. "Thank you, Mr. Hara, for that riveting re-imagining of the school anthem as a classical concerto piece. I'm sure the three pages of extra notes you added since last year were in dire need to one-up Herr Mozart himself. Where you find the enthusiasm for such matters is a grand mystery to us all." Ryu gazed up at the principal, shocked. "On behalf of your faculty, I wish to congratulate each and every one of you for completing your mid-semester examinations," he continued in a tone devoid of any true congratulations. It caused several of the faculty members on stage to glance at him in reproach. "You've all faced the fall influenza season, a rash of stomach ulcers, and a steady diet of pumpkin puree. Your perseverance is admirable."

"Is this a pep talk or an obituary?" Tendou commented aloud, eliciting several snorts.

Reon cut him a warning look.

"That is to say – you've all applied yourselves to the rigorous discipline of studying, sharpening your minds to all academia has to offer you. The fruit of your labor has ripened, and just as the autumn season ushers in a bountiful harvest, so too does this mark a turning point in the academic year. As such, your hard work deserves a joyous celebration." Mr. Sato threw his hands out with a stiff smile. "To commemorate your achievements, all coursework will be suspended for the following week–" cheers erupted from the student body, eliciting a disgruntled look from Mr. Sato who waited for the noise to subside again "–in preparation for Shiratorizawa's Annual Culture Festival." He cleared his throat. "As we will be playing host to several distinguished guests this year, allow me a few moments to address some pertinent notices regarding this event."

Shuffling his notes, he adjusted the cuffs of his slightly too-small navy suit.

"Firstly, the School Board wishes to remind you that this is not to be confused with vacation. Dormitory curfew is still in effect, and all student handbook policies are to be followed in due course. This means no unauthorized absences from campus, maintaining appropriate school attire, and reporting to your homeroom each day for attendance before rejoining your clubs. In other words, no sleeping in past 10."

There was an outbreak of groans.

"Secondly, campus security has prohibited fake weapons of any kind from school grounds. Given the serious misunderstanding we caused one park ranger who stumbled upon a historical reenactment of the 1587 Battle of Sendaigawa last year, we have also been asked to forgo any warfare activities in the community park." This announcement was met with sharp disappointment from the history club who had evidently planned another reenactment. "Any themes or costuming involving weaponry will be confiscated. This, of course, excludes the archery and skeet shooting teams–" Mr. Sato nodded to the two clubs in question "–as well as the kendo club."

"KEE-YAH!" screamed the kendo club unanimously.

"Damn, there goes our cavalry charge," said the girl with the curly pigtails. "I've been practicing my javelin-throwing all term. What am I supposed to do now – chuck a broom? This sucks!"

"At least we still have our fox hunt. He can't take that away – it would be sacrilegious."

"Who's the fox this year?" A boy asked curiously a few chairs down.

"Sui Yamada's boyfriend. You know – Ms. Moriyama's library assistant? His name was pulled from the campus-wide drawing."

"A student worker?" The question was posed with obvious disdain by the girl who sat casually in her chair. "Kami," she cursed, "he won't last two minutes. My mare will run him down in no time."

Tendou eavesdropped with growing concern for Yamada's boyfriend. Somehow, he had a feeling she volunteered him for the opportunity by slipping his name into the drawing without his knowledge. Ms. Moriyama's library assistants were exceptionally aloof. If they were not hiding behind their computer monitor playing Castles & Wizards, they disappeared into the deepest recesses of the library stacks never to be seen again. As Tendou thought on it more, he quickly realized they made the perfect quarry for a mounted hunt across campus.

Glancing to Yamada, he found her sitting serenely between Fukuhara and Tashima. A few rows back, her boyfriend was cowering in his chair, looking rather meek.

Very clever, Sui, he thought with a small grin.

Principal Sato paused to dap his face with a handkerchief, clearly very anxious about the week's events. His secretary stood off to the sidelines. He cast his beady gaze over the students, an unfavorable scowl forming on his lips. Tendou wondered if he had been tasked with sighting any potential dissenters.

"And lastly," Mr. Sato pressed on, "a quick word from our Culture Festival Board." He turned to someone standing behind the curtain. "Miss Asano, if you'd please." He gestured to the podium.

Tendou whooped and hollered, applauding with the rest of the second years as Akiko stepped forward onto the stage. She was sporting her signature windswept look, strands of hair spilling from a loose side braid. She peered out into the crowd, looking ready to give an address on the eve of battle. She had a striking Arthurian look about her: pious and quixotic. It was enough to capture the rapt attention of the entire school. Ushijima, in particular, watched her intently as if every word she was about to speak would move entire nations.

"Thank you, Mr. Sato," she said, bowing politely to the principal. Turning to address the school, she smoothed her blazer self-consciously. "The Culture Festival Board is still processing event applications, but we wish to assure everyone that all pending requests will be reviewed by the Student Government Council no later than Thursday," she announced. "If you are still waiting for approval, your attendance at this meeting is mandatory. To those of you who have already received clearance, your supplies will be delivered as soon as possible. If you have any festival-related questions, you may direct your inquiries to our helpdesk in classroom 2-A."

With that, she quickly descended the stairs to reclaim her seat in the crowd. Everyone watched with bated breath to see if she would trip, but she cleared the stairs safely, allowing everyone a sigh of relief.

"I heard the swim club was approved to hire a mermaid," whispered Shirabu.

"Really?" Yunohama raised his brows in shock. "I heard the zoology club's putting on an exotic petting zoo behind the gym. Rumor has it they booked a llama."

Kawanishi leaned forward. "That's nothing. I heard the third-year class is hosting a speakeasy with blackjack tables and the whole nine yards. They even hired professional dealers."

The first years glanced to their captain in shock.

He nodded. "It's true. During the last council meeting, it was suggested we put on something with a cash bar to loosen the donors' purse strings," he said under his breath. "The chairman of a sake enterprise has a deep love of the American Prohibition Era. You know – flappers and gangsters and all that. The third years' plan to auction off a hundred-year-old bottle of prohibition-era whiskey."

Shirabu gasped in awe. "You mean we're selling alcohol at this thing?"

"The School Board authorized gambling?" Yunohama echoed, astonished. "Is that even legal?"

"We're sponsored by a sake label?" Kawanishi lifted his brows, impressed.

Their captain shrugged his shoulders. "Welcome to Shiratorizawa Academy, boys."

There was a brief pause on the stage, drawing everyone's attention again. Ms. Oshiro had gotten up from her seat beside Ms. Moriyama and strode forward, determined. She was dressed in all-gray garb with a stiff bun resting precariously atop her head, the whole thing taken straight from a nunnery catalog. The fact that it was so severely shapeless and devoid of any color was a strong visual satire of school conformity.

To be expected, Mr. Sato peered at her warily.

"Er…and I suppose we're to have a quick word from Ms. Oshiro as well," he said, doing little to mask his disapproval as she commandeered the microphone. A sharp, ringing sound filled the gym, making everyone flinch.

"Oh boy, here we go," said the girl sitting in front of Tendou. "What lunacy does she have planned for us now?"

Tendou scowled at the back of her head, struck by the callousness of her remark. It triggered something deep within himself and, to his dismay, he watched as Ms. Oshiro received an equally lukewarm reception from the rest of the students. Virtually overnight, she had become the least favorite faculty member – second, perhaps, only to Mrs. Osakabe who was the uncontested schoolmarm. Complaints against her had skyrocketed after the failed dissection lab, and many were threatening to boycott her class until reparations were made. Tendou grew uncomfortable, squirming in his chair as he felt the sea of cold stares she was now receiving.

He knew what that felt like, being ostracized. It was the height of social cruelty.

People are repelled by what they don't understand, he thought with a touch of sadness.

But just as the silence grew unbearable, Ushijima surprised him by leaning forward and clapping loudly. His actions prompted the rest of the gym to grudgingly follow suit. Tendou turned to him, speechless.

"What? I like her," he said simply.

He continued applauding, slamming his hands together like a pair of giant cymbals. The riding club flinched as they were the closest recipients of his powerful percussion. Tendou jumped too, but then, found himself sighing in great relief. Not for the first time was he grateful for Ushijima's imperviousness to school drama. What was often mistaken as arrogance or social incompetence was really a frankness that allowed him to see through to the heart of the matter. And what the matter called for now was applause. Tendou joined in, showing his support alongside the school's Great Ace. Their enthusiasm seemed to bolster Ms. Oshiro's courage tenfold. She took a breath, appearing a little less grim.

"Hi everyone! Just a quick announcement," she said, brandishing a bright smile. "To my second- and third-year students, I'm offering free meal vouchers in exchange for your flame-retardant suits. That's right! Free meal vouchers," she reiterated excitedly. "Doesn't matter if your suits are used or new, ruined or whole. I want them all! Come see me in the lab this week and get your free food passes for the festival!"

There was surprised babble from the students.

"Really? We get to turn them in?" The girl in front of Tendou murmured, taken aback. "Does this mean we're out of danger for good?"

I hope not, thought Tendou, frowning. That would mean she's giving in to the authorities.

"Thank you, Ms. Oshiro, for the generous offer." Principal Sato spoke with a pleased tone, evidently relieved to think she was giving up her arsonist ways as well. Ms. Oshiro lifted a small thumbs-up, directing it to someone in the audience. Curious, Tendou followed her line of vision and saw none other than Hanamura returning the gesture.

Hold the phone.

What did Ms. Oshiro have to do with Hanamura? More importantly, what did Hanamura have to do with Ms. Oshiro? Tendou sat straight in his chair. As far as he could tell, they had nothing to do with each other. He had never caught them in conversation in the halls, never known Hanamura to have anything to do with the infamous instructor, unless–

Tendou searched out the science club. They were all seated conveniently behind Hanamura, each wearing an expression of deepest contempt which they directed solely at the principal. Among them sat Rumi, perfectly poised with a fiery, defiant look in her eyes. Several things happened at once that would have been missed if Tendou were not paying close attention.

Rumi leaned forward to whisper something to Hanamura just as Asano cut her gaze to the theater club, giving a silent nod which was returned by several of the costume seamstresses. Fukuhara glanced up at the mezzanine where Kazane and the cheerleaders could be seen surveying the crowd with calculated expressions. Kazane's eyes flickered judiciously and she murmured something to Makoto who broke out into a devilish grin. Below, Ryu was staring straight ahead, trying to pin down Hanamura with his burning glare. Beside him sat a girl who seemed to be glaring at his cousin, Rumi, with equal loathing. And then, of course, Tendou met gazes with Chiyo who was watching him so intently from the other side of the gym, he felt his breakfast curdle inside his stomach.

Look what I made you, she mouthed, holding up a cross-stitch of his face. It was absolutely horrifying.

"Well, well, well. Birds of a feather flock together," Tendou gritted through his teeth. "Suzume, what have you gotten yourself into now?"

Was this, perhaps, the urgent business she had with the art club on Friday? Striking up a deal with the science club? As Tendou wracked his mind over the implications this posed, he was morose to think he was no closer to discovering her secret than the day he found her collecting sticks out on the front lawn. He hung his head, exasperated. None of it made any sense. How did all the pieces fit together?

The chatter in the gym ceased immediately at Principal Sato's next words, grabbing his attention.

"And finally, a brief statement from our disciplinary director, Mrs. Osakabe."

The carefree mood evaporated instantly as she stood, marching to the podium in a dictator-like fashion. The applause she received was polite but withdrawn. Only the disciplinary committee clapped with any enthusiasm, and they were all seated in the rows closest to the stage.

Teacher's pets, thought Tendou.

"Thank you, Principal Sato," she said in a voice fit for a criminal defense lawyer. She cast her gaze about the gym, her grey lips drawn into a scowl. "It's always a privilege to speak on behalf of the school, and it's with the school in mind that I address a few matters of import now." Donning her glasses, she laid a folder onto the podium, opening it with a flick of her wrist.

"Shiratorizawa Academy is an institution marked by a hundred-year-old legacy – a legacy deeply rooted in tradition," she began. "The very word 'culture' symbolizes the collective ideology and achievements of a generation. Those before you have paved the way toward academic brilliance, elevating the school to what it is today. Your merits have brought you here, but you stand on the shoulders of giants who have come and gone long before you. It is in their memory you devote yourselves to the continued success of this institution. The culture festival is a tradition built on the virtues of permanence and respect – a time in which you shall give back to that which has given you so much. It is your duty to honor the school and its traditions set forth for the betterment of all.

"With that being said," Mrs. Osakabe paused, eyeing the crowd with her sharp gaze once more, "any deviancy…any rule-breaking…any breach of conduct for the sake of meaningless opposition–" Tendou watched in horror as her gaze intentionally fell on Hanamura "–shall be eliminated swiftly."

Mrs. Osakabe removed her glasses, looking every bit the vulture in her black turtleneck. Twirling her specks loosely in one hand, she gazed up at the gym rafters in thought. "A rose cannot flourish if its roots are choked out by weeds. They must be removed to preserve the bud. Therefore," she deepened her voice, an unpleasant smirk spreading across her face, "I shall ensure our event this year blooms with exceptional grace. Under direct authority of Principal Sato and the School Board, the disciplinary committee has been authorized to audit all festival operations. Any disobedience will be met with punitive action. You have been warned."

Her words were met with stark silence. If Mr. Sato had delivered an obituary, Mrs. Osakabe had just delivered a decree promising repercussions of the worst kind should a single toe fall out of place. Some of the excitement in the gym vanished completely, replaced by trepidation. Murmurs filtered through the crowd as everyone shared their unease, but Tendou noticed that Hanamura was the only one who held Mrs. Osakabe's gaze, appearing outwardly relaxed, confident – eager.

Tendou eyed her, dumbfounded.

Just what had happened in the time between now and Friday evening in the classroom that had changed her so completely? Hanamura was radiating a kind of confidence that only a leader of a rebellion bore – the kind that kicked over trash cans and stuck chewing gum underneath desks; raw, brazen defiance. The way she was regarding her homeroom teacher now made it look as if Mrs. Osakabe had just doused a fire with gasoline. There was a brightness to her that trounced all the fear and tension currently brewing inside the gym. What on earth could have happened to give her this much resolve?

Tendou leaned forward in his chair with a sense of urgency, remembering that the whistleblower was somewhere in the gym, hiding in plain sight. As he shifted his gaze across the crowd, he grew troubled. Who could it possibly be? Who might crack under the pressure? Who stood to gain from the dissolution of Operation Magpie and wanted to see Hanamura fail? Clearly, Mrs. Osakabe was aware something was afoot but was this merely a suspicion or an actual lead?

His questions were, sadly, left unanswered as Principal Sato drew their assembly to a close.

"Thank you, Mrs. Osakabe for that stirring reflection on the importance of tradition," he said with a respectful bow. Turning to the student body, he added, "Our patrons will, indeed, be looking to you all for inspiration. Therefore, we expect much from you at this year's event. Do not disappoint us," he threatened them all. "This concludes our meeting."

. . . . . . . .

Moments later, everyone fled the gym, eager to be free of the faculty. There was a bottleneck situation happening at the front doors, forcing Tendou and the rest of the volleyball team to stagger amid the growing rush of students. It was quite the ordeal. Normally, students made room for the team, giving them space to leave first. But today it would seem their privileges had been superseded by the irresistible allure of festival preparations. People were practically tripping over Tendou on their way to the exit. Growling, he forced his way through the throng, eager to reach Hanamura.

He didn't have to search long. Like an overflowing river, she was delivered straight into his arms, shoved by the yearbook photographer.

"Hey, watch it!" He groused.

She gave him a nasty glare, evidently still bearing a grudge for holding her camera ransom.

"Step aside, Guess Monster. I have official yearbook business to attend to," she spat at him, "something you clearly don't appreciate. Hmph!" She proceeded to dive through several more people, clawing her way ruthlessly toward the exit.

Tendou tsked. "Are you alright?" He asked, holding Hanamura steady.

"She's a real piece of work, that one," Hanamura grumbled. "She stalked me for two weeks straight trying to prove I'm a witch. Then she dropped me like a piece of garbage!"

"That's fame for you," said Tendou with a bitter smile. "Now all anyone cares about is Dracula over there."

They both looked to the exit. Sure enough, the major cause for congestion was an eagerness for every female student in the vicinity (and a few male students too) to intercept the new substitute teacher who was standing near the doors in a shaft of yellow sunlight. A circle formed around him, peppering him with some of the most audacious questions:

"Is that your real eye color, sir?"

"Do you use hair mousse to achieve such curls?"

"Are you married, sir?"

"When are you releasing your debut album?"

"Ladies, ladies, please," he pacified them in his rich, warm tone, soaking up the attention. Even his modesty was elegant as he smoothed his burgundy cardigan. "Where do you get such ideas? I assure you, I am merely a humble schoolteacher." He proceeded to laugh which had the girls swooning in delight. A boy behind them was mimicking his gestures as if to garner the secrets of his seduction. By then, the yearbook photographer appeared, flashing her camera repeatedly.

"Yo. Humble schoolteacher, can we get a move on?" Washijo griped insipidly. "Some of us have work to do."

Tendou suppressed a smirk. His coach certainly had a way with words.

Hanamura was attempting to collect herself, but the crowd forced her back into his chest again. Tendou felt her nose pierce his sternum and grinned as he watched her ears go red.

"Gah! Who organized this?" She complained, covering her blush. "We'll suffocate at this rate!"

Tendou was in agreement; they needed to get out of there fast. Taking her hand, he lifted fingers to his mouth and whistled. Members of the art club, science club, and volleyball team all glanced his way.

"Band together and follow me," he ordered, motioning above the crowd. They did as they were told, linking arms to create a human chain as Tendou led them against the current. Ushijima linked arms with Asano and Fukuhara, Yamagata grabbing hold of Rumi and Yamada. Shirabu reached desperately for Asano but was forced to take hold of Tashima and Izakaya instead. They complained loudly in his ears. ("This is an outrage! How dare you bump into me!" Tashima shouted. "I could sue you for personal injury, you know!" Izakaya threatened irritably.) Reon, Jin, and Kawanishi grabbed hold of several science club members; Yunohama lifting a scrawny first-year boy who yelped in surprise. Together, they all wove through the crowd, following Tendou as he took the stairs onto the stage, leading them behind the curtain where a door led out behind the gym.

Bursting into the crisp morning air, they all gasped in relief.

"Did everyone make it?" Tendou asked, taking a quick headcount.

"I think so," said Hanamura, panting slightly. "Thanks for getting us out of there."

"Sure." He eyed her companions with interest. "I see you've added some new friends to the mix. More allies?"

The science club waved to him jovially.

"Ah, yes." Hanamura adjusted her blazer with a small grin. "There's been a change of plans. This is no longer an art club thing," she explained. "This is a full-on rescue mission."

Tendou frowned. "Rescue? Who needs rescuing?"

Hanamura faced him, her expression firm. "Turns out Shiratorizawa is trying to stamp out anyone who goes against the grain. I'm not the only one being brought up in the teachers' lounge," she revealed, sounding cold. "Principal Sato's putting the kibosh on the science department, so naturally we intend to make a stand–" she turned to her entourage "–don't we?" They returned her look with eager nods.

"The science department…," Tendou echoed with a frown. "Hang on. You mean Oshiro, don't you? She's the one you're rescuing?"

He gaped at her, his lips thinning into a grin just as his brows quirked in disbelief. How was it that she came to know about Ms. Oshiro's slippery slope with the School Board? Had she too heard about the frog massacre? If so, she was still willing to stand up for her?

"She's like us," Hanamura confided in him quietly, reaching for his hand, "different. But there's no reason for her to be sent away. Oshiro deserves to be here like the rest of us. We need her."

Tendou was stirred by her conviction, her words fueling the fire already blazing inside his chest. It was a new experience to see her so adamant about defending someone else, and he was momentarily overwhelmed by his feelings for her. He moved to kiss her right there on the spot, but fear lingered in his mind, causing him to refrain. He glanced to the two people who were least likely to be on board with this plan.

"And you guys are okay with this?" He asked them incredulously.

Tashima and Izakaya both glanced at each other before shrugging their shoulders.

"Honestly, no. But we've made peace with it," said Tashima with a sniff.

"We've broken so many rules. There's no point getting off this ride now," said Izakaya. "Besides, the science club has nearly completed all our to-do lists."

"You're welcome," said Rumi in a boastful tone.

Tendou regarded them all with new esteem. Hanamura was right, this was no longer an undercover art experiment. Operation Magpie had grown extraordinarily, becoming a grassroots movement for the outliers of the school. She had created a place for those who didn't quite fit the mold to unite, a haven for misfits. But uprisings never came without consequences, and it hardly took rifling through a history textbook to know things never boded well for the leaders once they were caught. The one who risked the greatest danger was Hanamura.

Tendou tugged on her hand, drawing her close.

"How is it you're no longer afraid?" He asked her. "What's changed?"

Hanamura smiled. "Oh, I'm terrified," she told him earnestly. "But it no longer has control over me. I control it now."

Tendou frowned, trying to work out her meaning. "And how do you do that?" He asked.

Her smile grew. "It's simple: alchemy."

There it was, that peculiar light shining through her smile again. Hanamura had uncovered something wondrous and it resonated through her entire being as bright as an aurora. Whatever darkness she had faced, she had come out the other end brighter, stronger. Tendou could feel his skin tingle at the nape of his neck. He was beginning to resign himself to the idea that there was no pearl behind her smile, only the iridescent glimmer of a hidden universe.

"Ah, good. The rebel coalition's all here," said Kazane as she strolled out the back door with the rest of the cheer squad. Yamagata visibly tensed at the sight of Isami and Makoto following closely behind her. They each had patches of silver glitter on their cheeks and carried their yellow pom-poms. While Isami looked somewhat bashful, Makoto eyed everyone with her cat-like intensity.

"That was quite the speech back there," said Kazane, jabbing a thumb at the gym. "Osakabe seems to have it out for you, Hanabusa. You sure she's clueless to what's going on?"

Tendou sized up the cheer captain, wary. "Why does it concern you?"

Kazane drew to a halt. "Relax, Tendou," she said, raising her hands in peace. "I've been commissioned by the art club as their publicist. We've become thick as thieves. Haven't we, Hanamura?"

Tendou turned to her, looking for an explanation.

"It's true," said Hanamura. "She's going to help us get approval from the Student Government Council."

"Uh-huh." Tendou cut his gaze back to Kazane. "And what has she demanded in return? The cheer captain doesn't offer her services for free."

Kazane studied her nails with a look of triumph. "Why…an editorial piece, of course."

Tendou smoldered. He should have known. Kazane Fujiwara was someone who always got what she wanted. It was why she was one of the most influential students on campus, playing people like pawns on a gameboard. By denying her an exposé for the school newspaper, he should have realized it was only a matter of time before she found a way to broach the subject with Hanamura instead. Tendou gave her a dry smile.

"Well, if that's the case, you should know there's a snitch," he told her, voicing aloud his concern. Hanamura shifted uneasily beside him. Everybody else grew silent, stunned by the news.

"What? How's that possible?" Izakaya piped up. "We've all signed a confidentiality agreement."

"Well…you have," said Asano as an aside. "Everyone else here is operating on the honor system."

Izakaya turned to her, shocked. "Wait – What? Why am I the only one who signed a contract?"

"To secure your immunity," said Asano as if reminding him. When Izakaya continued to stare at her bleakly, she sighed. "Well, let's face it, Takashi. Out of all of us, you're the weakest link in the chain. If you break the contract, you're legally obligated to go down with the ship just like the rest of us."

Izakaya dropped his school bag. "What?"

"In any case, I think it's safe to say the school's on high alert." Kazane handed her pom-poms to Isami who took them graciously. "But don't worry, my squad's combing the communication channels across campus as we speak. We'll find this mole." Her eyes flickered in challenge. "In the meantime, Noriko, we ought to get ready for your meeting with the big wigs. I've come to collect you."

Fukuhara glanced to her clubmates.

"Go on. We'll be fine." Yamada assured her. "The plan's all set. We'll catch up to you later."

Fukuhara nodded. "Alright. I'll see you on the other side then."

She joined the cheerleaders, looking giddy at the prospect of spending time with Kazane. Her silver braces flashed in the sunlight. As they set off across the yard, it was Isami who lingered. Her foot froze in mid-step, a decision being made on the spot. Turning around, she held her clutch of pom-poms close to her face, her honey-brown hair catching in the breeze.

"Hi Hayato," she said sweetly.

Blustering, Yamagata immediately swelled up, tense and alert.

"G-G-Good morning, Sasakura!" He stammered in an overly formal tone, cognizant he was within hearing range of the cheer squad. The volleyball team looked to him, amused. She had just spoken to him using his first name – a clear indication she thought of him as more than an acquaintance or a friend, and yet he was giving the moment more chivalrous formality than it required. "What f-f-fine webber – I mean, weather – we're having today – uh – aren't we?"

Isami broke into a grin. "Yes, it's very nice."

"Not as nice as you," whispered Jin suggestively over Yamagata's shoulder.

The libero stomped on his foot.

Blushing, Isami turned to Hanamura. "I've worked something out over the weekend that I think you'll like, but we should start practicing right away. Can you guys meet this afternoon?"

Hanamura nodded eagerly. "Sure! We look forward to it."

Isami smiled. "Me too. I'll see you later then!" She shuffled the pom-poms in her arms before jogging quickly to catch up with the rest of the squad. They all watched her leave until Yamagata rounded on Jin, grabbing him by the arms to give him a good throttle.

"What the hell, man? You trying to sabotage me?" He griped.

Jin simply laughed, holding his stomach. "Well someone had to say it! It's obviously what you were thinking."

While the two grappled with each other, Tendou turned to Hanamura.

"So," he said, eyeing her closely. "you've managed to wrangle not only the science club but the cheer squad as well, huh?" He clicked his tongue. "Nearly half the school's involved now."

Hanamura looked exceedingly pleased with herself. "Mm-hmm. It's going to be quite the surprise."

His smile turned voracious.

"If it remains one, that is," he countered in a deeper, slower, rougher tone. It immediately set her on edge. Stepping forward, he tilted his face to whisper softly in her ear, "I still intend to learn your secret before the week is out, ya know. There'll be no holding back. Not from me."

Hanamura returned his look with one of her own, squeezing his hand. "Good," she said with studied calm. "I don't expect you to. A deal's a deal after all."

His smile flickered. Pressing his thumb against her wrist, he could feel her pulse beating erratically.

"So it is," he drawled, pleased. "May the best man win."

Four figures were slowly skulking away in the corner of his vision, thinking they were being clever by escaping without his notice. Tendou couldn't allow that to happen. Releasing Hanamura's hand, he spun on the deserters.

"And just where do you think you're going, Kazuki," he said loudly, making the engineer jolt. "Switching sides, I see. After the night we shared in the laundromat together?" He lifted his brows in affront. "How could you?"

Kazuki whipped around, his cheeks turning bright pink.

"Don't – Don't say it like that!" He argued prudishly, his voice breaking. "You make it sound intimate."

Tendou blinked.

"It was intimate. I watched you fold your underpants."

Kazuki went from pink to puce in a nanosecond. He quickly darted behind his teammates who were all bumping into each other frightfully. They had been found out and any semblance of team loyalty was decimated as Kazuki forced their youngest member to the front as a human sacrifice. Tendou stalked forward like a predator, his back hunched and arms hanging loose at his sides, but it was Izakaya who took his place in front of them, opening his blazer to flash the knitted pink harness Asano had made for him to carry the water bottle. Tendou eyed it with a snarl.

"Stop right there. The robotics team is under our protection now. They're being moved to a safehouse," Izakaya stated on their behalf. "I know this because I too am being moved to said safehouse. Since I'm the only one legally obligated to keep quiet–" he shot a reproachful glance at Asano "–I'm adding an addendum to my contract for personal safety."

Tendou broke into a dark grin. "Oh? And just where do you think you'll be safe from the likes of me?"

Izakaya lifted his chin, gazing pointedly at the girls' dormitory.

Tendou straightened. "You can't be serious," he murmured in shock. It was the only bastion left on campus he had yet to explore for the simple fact that it was forbidden. Extremely forbidden. A file in your personal records, two weeks of detention, call from the principal to your parents forbidden. He was not alone in his critical assessment of the robotics team. Yamagata, Shirabu, and Ushijima all looked uncomfortable with this sudden development.

"Suzume, this is serious," Tendou warned her. "There's zero tolerance for boys being in the girls' dorms. You risk getting evicted from campus if you get caught."

"Ah, but you see, they won't be boys," said Asano as she joined Izakaya. Reaching into her wool purse, she pulled out a chocolate-brown wig with spiral curls and placed it over Kazuki's head. The transformation was astounding. Everyone raised their brows in shock, taken aback by his natural beauty as a brunette.

"If I can smuggle a puppy into the dorms, you can sure as hell bet I can smuggle a few geeks in as well," Asano declared self-assuredly.

"Um…we prefer 'intellectual introverts.'" The first-year robotics engineer pointed out mildly. "'Geek' has become derogatory, you know."

"Oh hush, Igoro," Kazuki snapped. "These people have no concept for common decency. Just keep your mouth shut and stick to the plan."

Everyone looked to Kazuki, perturbed.

"What? Don't look at me like that," he stammered, brushing curls aside. The act was surprisingly natural. "They're offering refuge in exchange for calculating their experiment. This is strictly business!"

"Uh-huh," murmured Tendou with a squinted eye.

Things had just gone from bad to worse. Hanamura's situation was twice as precarious now, and Tendou felt a slight panic at the scope of danger she risked. His worry must have been visibly etched into his face for she gave him a reassuring smile.

"Hey, it's alright. Don't worry, we know what we're doing. We plotted all weekend on how this is gonna go down. As far as the principal's concerned, we're doing a little performance in the courtyard. A few of Rumi's 'cousins' are staying with us in the dorms this week too. We have it all worked out, I promise. Perfectly tame," she said in an attempt to soothe him.

It was then that a yellow hatch-back car peeled behind the gym, coming to a skidding halt.

"I BROUGHT THE EXPLOSIVES!" announced Ms. Oshiro, sticking her head out the window. Her hair bun had burst, wild curls pointing in every which way. She was wearing a pair of white safety goggles that made her look even more like a crazed, mad scientist. They could see a few items sticking out of the back of her car: spools of cable wire, iron rods, some sort of industrial tank with a hosed nozzle, and what appeared to be several black motorcycle helmets.

Hanamura's smile faltered as she looked back to Tendou, almost appearing sheepish. Clasping hands behind her back, she stepped away coyly.

"Right, that's our cue," she said to her crew. "Everybody clear on what we need to do?"

"Copy!"

"Roger!"

Affirmative!"

"Everyone to their battle stations. Go, go, go!" Tashima ordered like a drill sergeant, rotating her arm like a windmill. Rumi produced capsules from a fanny pack worn around her waist and held them up, three in each hand. "Feast your eyes on this!" She shouted before chucking them to the ground. Upon impact, several large clouds of colored chalk dust erupted into the air, creating a mirage of orange, pink, and blue.

Tendou and the rest of the team lunged backward, careful not to get chalk on their uniforms. Even through the milky haze of color, Tendou watched as Hanamura took off running with the others, her cohort scattering in twos and threes across the lawn. A few jumped into Ms. Oshiro's car as she made a quick donut in the parking lot, heading straight for the school. It was another minute before the dust finally cleared, leaving Tendou and the others staring off into the distance, dazed.

"This is insane," muttered Shirabu in awe. "They're breaking every school rule known to man!"

Tendou ran a hand down the length of his face. The challenge ahead seemed insurmountable.

"Why are they willing to risk so much for a culture festival? It doesn't make any sense."

Tendou turned to Shirabu.

"Because this isn't a festival anymore," he told him ominously. "It's an uprising."

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the delay in updates this past month. Life caught up to me, but I was able to press through and get back to my writing schedule. This chapter ended up being massive – my longest one yet – so I chopped it in half to ease the pacing a bit. There won't be such a long interval for the next update, I promise. We've got some fun ground to cover between now and the festival.

The pep assembly reminds me of that key scene in a murder mystery where all the suspects are present at dinner right before all hell breaks loose. This is definitely the case here. Tendou has his work cut out for him. :D

"Bach's Violin Concerto No. 1 in A Minor" – Hilary Hahn

"Queendom" – AURORA

By the way, thank you so much for the positive feedback on my novella idea! I'm happy to report it has a working outline, a hilarious cast, and several key scenes that already make my heart race. Tendou and Hanamura continue their cat-and-mouse chemistry in a way that renders me weak at the knees. I look forward to sharing it with you in the near future.

Also, thank you always for such kind reviews. I am completely overjoyed whenever I get an emotional response. Your joy is my joy! I hope you all have been doing well and getting geared up for a fun summer this year. Love you all!

Until next time,

lavendermoonmilk