The Small Things

by lavendermoonmilk

Tendou embarks on his second year at Shiratorizawa, eager to revel in his new notoriety as the school's legendary Guess Monster. But when a precocious first-year student comes onto the scene, a girl who is unarguably strange, Tendou finds himself mired in a tantalizing mystery. Who is she? What is she up to? And why is he so interested in this little scavenger bird? [Tendou X OC]

31. Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

---

"Alright Kenji, start talking."

Tendou leaned against the vending machines, tying the upper half of his cargo jumpsuit around his waist. His hands felt grimy from cleaning the school all morning and his shirt was already coated in dust, but it was far better than being stuck inside a classroom all day – or the weight room as Coach Washijo would have preferred. He stared expectantly at Shirabu who was trying desperately to feed a bill into the tender slot. The machine kept chiming in error: Bill not acceptable. Please try again. Bill not acceptable. Please try again.

His eye began to twitch.

"About what?"

Tendou crossed his arms over his chest. "Takashi. The weakest link. The sacrificial lamb. Who else?"

Shirabu grew quiet, a response that was occurring more and more frequently whenever the blond-headed ceramist was brought up. He had taken a bizarre vow of silence on the matter, displaying allegiance to his homeroom classmate that was quite out of character. Even so, Tendou's mouth curved. After twenty-four hours of persistent questioning, Shirabu was beginning to show signs of fatigue. Tendou need only press a bit further, nudge the domino that would send his whole Secret Keeper Act to come crashing down. All it required now was a bit of finesse.

He switched into villain mode.

"Don't think I haven't noticed how you and the cat wizard have gotten rather chummy lately," he said much to Shirabu's chagrin. "You've been mining for information, haven't you? Buttering him up. Getting him to trust you so he'll talk." Shirabu hid under his fringe. The heat at his ears gave away his guilty conscience.

Bingo. Tendou smirked. Perching a foot against the vending machine, he stared out the windows into the courtyard, trying to appear as innocuous as possible.

"Look, I'm not asking for much. Just a few details is all," he said. "A bit of chump change really."

Shirabu glanced to him, cautious. "Like what?"

"You know, trivial stuff: His dreams. His desires. His deepest, life-long regrets. Where he harbors the shadow of his soul, the forsaken memories of his youth." Tendou shrugged. "That sort of thing."

Shirabu flattened his gaze. "I already told you, I–don't–know!"

"You're lying."

"I am not!"

Tendou stood, posturing much like a cobra flaring its hood. He switched to physical intimidation mode; a last-resort tactic. One that always got the other person light on their feet. To his satisfaction, Shirabu quailed ever so slightly.

"You and I both know Takashi has more lung capacity than all the Irish bagpipes in the world combined. Why else would he be forced to sign a contract? I imagine he's told you his whole life's story by now, so don't stand there telling me you don't know a thing when you obviously do!"

Shirabu shoved the bill into the slot, earning himself another error jingle.

"Even if he did, why would I tell you?"

"Because we're friends!"

"Pah! Perpetrator and victim is more like it!" Shirabu fired back. "And don't call me Kenji!"

The bill was accepted finally, causing Tendou and Shirabu to pause their argument. With great impatience, Shirabu slammed a button which elicited a happy musical chime: Thank you for your purchase. Enjoy! The machine whirred as it let down a soda can decorated with fruit. Shirabu snatched it from the bin and popped the tab with the intention of downing the whole thing in one go.

"SHIRABU, NOOOOOOOOO!"

Reon dropped his water bucket as he seized the strawberry milk. "What the hell are you doing?" He peered at Shirabu blasphemously. "You wanna end up sick? Here, take care of this–" he passed it to Ushijima "–Quick."

"Ah." Ushijima wolfed it down in two gulps.

Shirabu watched him with bitter resentment, his shoulders going stiff. If looks could burn, Ushijima would have been incinerated on the spot. This reaction was extreme but nothing new. The team had noticed Shirabu had become unusually antagonistic toward their ace – ever since the pep assembly really. But today, it was especially apparent he harbored deep loathing for Ushijima.

"I wanted that," he growled. "You owe me another."

Reon moved to stand between the two as a precautionary measure. The rest of the team emerged from the boys' restroom where they had been spot-cleaning the tiles. They were all dressed in the same plum-colored jumpsuit with the word "volunteer" printed on the back in white characters. The official festival preparations uniform.

"Tendou, enough already," said Reon. "Don't you see you're driving him to drink dairy?"

"I'll drink whatever I damn well please!"

Reon turned to Shirabu. "Listen, you're clearly very distressed right now. You're not in the right frame of mind. That much lactose would've wound you up in the infirmary."

Shirabu lifted his brows. "Oh? Oh, so now you care, do you?" He turned to the rest of the team, his face bright with indignation. "So…it was perfectly fine to force-feed me yogurt at the training camp…hold me down by all fours like an animal…but now that I actually have a taste for milk – it's unacceptable?"

The team winced.

"Shirabu, we were under very different circumstances then. We needed every advantage – anything to distract the other teams…no matter the cost." Reon grew solemn. "But that's all behind us now."

Ushijima held out the empty can. "Want this back?"

Shirabu smacked it to the floor, causing it to clatter in a milky pink mess.

"Come on, man. We just buffed the floor," groaned Yamagata.

Reon fixed Tendou with a look. Quite arguably, the look; a scowl far colder and more critical than any facial expression Washijo ever conjured. It dripped with unadulterated disappointment and burned all the way through to the soul. Tendou felt himself called to a heel and realized there would be no baiting Shirabu anymore. Not with Benkei on the prowl.

"Alright, alright. Geez. I'll leave him alone," he said with a curl of his lip, "but if he won't talk–" he spun around on the other first years "–Taichi, Yunohama, tell me everything you know about our dear friend, Zeldor the Blue."

"NO!" Shirabu lunged in front of them, his face livid. "For god's sake! We won't let you terrorize him," he answered on their behalf, motioning for them both to zip it. When Kawanishi and Yunohama both looked to him confused, he huffed. "He's my ticket to Asano's heart, okay?" He declared at last, jabbing a thumb at his chest. "It took me three weeks to get him to talk about anything other than his Crystal Lotus Campaign – or his turtles – or his morning haircare routine! We've finally gotten to the subject of Asano's top ten serial killers and I will not throw him under the bus!"

He was left panting after such a statement.

The team studied him critically.

"Shirabu, why don't you just talk to her yourself?" Reon asked. "Why operate through Izakaya?"

"Yeah, seems a bit convoluted," agreed Jin.

Shirabu cut his gaze to Ushijima again, a vindictive light shining through his eyes. He looked on the verge of a verbal attack but then, suddenly, he was cool again. Suave. A duck with all of its feathers smoothed back into place. He ran a hand over his hair as he crossed the hall to stand in front of the windows. There, edged in the sunlight like the lonely stranger above the mist, he clasped hands behind his back.

"Isn't it obvious?" He said, surveying the lawn. "I'm playing hard to get."

The vending machines whirred. Yunohama coughed. The team stood in shocked silence as his words lingered in the air like the sad, droning call of a trombone: flat and dismal. It was another moment before they all came to terms with what he had just said.

"Uh…no offense, Shirabu, but that strategy only works if the girl's already into you. Asano doesn't strike me as the flirtatious type," said Jin as he tapped his chin musingly. "She's not your average, run-of-the-mill heroine, know what I mean?"

"A bit demented," agreed Semi quietly.

"How're you so sure she's even into you?" Kawanishi asked.

Shirabu glanced over his shoulder, looking perfectly smug. "Oh, she's into me. Why else would she draw my portrait at the scrimmage match?"

"She threw it away though," said Tendou.

Shirabu shot him a baleful look. "Doesn't matter. Out of the entire team, she still chose me to draw. That has to count for something, right?" Again, he cut his gaze to Ushijima in a boastful manner.

Ushijima frowned. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Just making sure you know you're not alone in this race."

"What race?"

"The race. The race of all races." Shirabu tossed his hands dramatically. "I respect you as my senior and teammate, Ushijima, but in this, it's every man for himself. Don't take it personally when I beat you to the finish line."

Ushijima looked to Tendou. "There's a marathon this afternoon? Why did no one tell me?"

He sounded upset.

Tendou chewed his lip, overcome by the irony of his situation. He regretted not being able to inform Shirabu that his romantic rival was, in fact, not a romantic rival at all. Ushijima was quite devoted to Akiko, and any affiliation he had with Asano was purely due to the fact that she was Akiko's sister and fellow confidante. As Tendou began to see everything through the lens of Shirabu's jealousy though – most particularly, Ushijima leading Asano from the gym after the pep assembly – everything suddenly became clear. The moodiness, the short temper, the heated, vindictive looks.

Tendou grinned.

He thinks he's in competition with Wakatoshi and…the cat wizard's his wingman.

An image came to him, unbidden. One of Shirabu and Izakaya pushing their desks together in their homeroom, Izakaya prattling on while Shirabu sat with a glazed-over expression on his face, mustering every iota of patience in his body to listen carefully and considerately to the musings of a popinjay. From there, Tendou's mind produced a deeply amusing image of Shirabu – after hours of painstaking self-discipline – leaping for joy at the first mention of murder.

This development was so unexpected, so charming, he decided right then and there to leave Izakaya to Shirabu if only to see how far Shirabu was willing to woo Asano. Tendou would absolve himself to fetter out information on Hanamura's secret some other way. He still had time.

Consider yourself lucky, Takashi. You have a worthy gatekeeper in Kenjiro…for now.

Tendou reached out and clapped Ushijima on the shoulder. "No, no. There's no marathon, Wakatoshi. At least, not at the moment." His gaze landed on the clockface hanging on the wall, causing him to jolt. "But there will be if we're late to practice. Come on! We better get going."

. . . . . . . .

The team set off across campus at a brisk walk, eager to be free of their cleaning duties. Making their way from the shoe lockers to the courtyard, they were pleased to see the weather had improved somewhat. The air was still crisp like the draft from an ice chest, but the sun felt warm on their faces, filtering through the trees in a rich, golden hue.

Tendou stretched, hoping some of that warmth would ease the tension between his shoulders. He took a breath, unable to keep from yawning. After a fruitless afternoon of pestering Shirabu followed by a sleepless night wondering how Izakaya and the robotics team were getting on in the girls' dormitory, it had come as an added shock to be awakened by trumpet reveille at five o'clock that morning.

Tumbling out of bed, Tendou hissed as he staggered to the door.

You got a death wish? He groused, glaring down at the dark-headed boy standing just outside his room. The boy squeaked, clearly not anticipating coming face-to-face with a bedraggled Guess Monster. He was quick to recover, drawing himself up proudly.

Ah, good. You're awake. He looked puzzled, no doubt confused as to why Tendou was staying in Ushijima's dorm room. His eyes dropped briefly to the clipboard in his hands, but he must have deemed it irrelevant for he tucked it back under his arm. We're having a drill this morning. Everyone is to report down to the courtyard in fifteen minutes. Festival fatigues are mandatory.

Tendou narrowed his gaze. Who's we?

The disciplinary committee, said the boy, flashing his purple armband. We're in charge of festival operations now. All students are to report to the courtyard for a muster before checking in with their homeroom teachers. Director's orders.

Director…? Tendou paused, remembering the lengthy speech Mrs. Osakabe had given during the pep assembly. His stomach twisted with dread as he realized this was not the elaborate scare tactic he had hoped it would be. Principal Sato had indeed deputized the hounds of Shiratorizawa, and true to her word, Mrs. Osakabe had mobilized them at once. With so much power, it made perfect sense that their first order of business was to draft everyone into a labor camp.

Is this for real? Shirabu asked as they found themselves listening to a boring tutorial on best housekeeping practices. The disciplinary committee had lined up in a row, demonstrating for everyone how to properly clean tile grout. They reminded Tendou of sales representatives, and even though they spoke with an upbeat attitude and campy slogans ("Neat and clean makes for the perfect scene!", "Put the mean in clean!", "Don't stress, we can handle the mess!"), their effort was met with overwhelmingly apathetic silence as everyone huddled together in the cold gray light of dawn, shivering in their festival fatigues.

Yeah, I thought this week would be more…I dunno, fun, said Kawanishi. Not boot camp all over again.

Yunohama turned to Tendou. Is this how it was last year?

Tendou shared a dismal glance with the others.

They were right. Festival Week ought to have been the fun, light-hearted affair it was last year; full of games, food, and freedom to wander about the school. It was the only time when homework was forgotten and student life flourished. Tendou had spent the majority of his week lounging around campus reading manga or stealing candy from Nurse Hino. On the off chance he was bored, he walked around with a volleyball spinning on his finger, hoping to catch the attention of the older girls. There was none of this pomp and circumstance – none of this military mustering first thing in the morning either. But the added pressure placed on the School Board to meet donor expectations coupled with a principal hell-bent on winning 'Fundraiser of the Year Award' meant it fell to the students to carry out the arduous task of performing a miracle: turning their school into a cultural beacon.

Please be advised. The disciplinary committee will be making the rounds to check your progress. If your cleaning does not meet our standards, you will be asked to do it over again, warned a girl who was conspicuous with her inverted bob and entitled manner of speech. She stood at the front of the committee, the only one wearing a silver armband. It should also be noted that…should you abandon your assignment at any point, you will be suspended from all further festival activity. There is zero tolerance for negligence, so make sure to work hard.

Or else, murmured Semi, sounding uncannily like Coach Washijo.

The team shared more concerned glances with each other.

Despite their chilling threat, in the end, all that was required was for everyone to devote two days toward cleaning. And not even full days: just from morning until noon. Not so bad, thought Tendou. But as the disciplinary committee started passing out everyone's cleaning assignments, he soon realized their expectations were immense. Shampooing the carpets? Cleaning out the gutters? Disinfecting the H-vac system on the rooftop? By the looks of things, they wanted to cleanse Shiratorizawa of all impurities; remove every spec of dirt, dust, and grime from existence.

That's all for now, said the girl with the silver armband. We thank you for your cooperation.

Tendou shivered at the power-hungry smile that spread across her face. This would not bode well for the school. Unchecked power had a corrupting effect, and in the hands of idealists, it was exceptionally dangerous. The disciplinary committee had fashioned themselves into an authoritarian regime. And their mission? Leading Shiratorizawa through a Great Purge.

"Do you think we'll get caught for washing the walls with our mop water?" Yunohama asked as they continued lugging their mops and buckets across the lawn.

"No," said Shirabu. "They can't possibly check everyone's work. It'd take forever."

"Don't be so sure about that. Look," said Jin. "Those girls are getting scolded again."

Sure enough, they spotted three girls standing off to the side of the main gate with their shoulders hunched, appearing shamefaced as a committee member inspected the gate with pursed lips. Apparently, their polishing job was coming up short. They were told to do it over again until the metal bars gleamed like crystal. The volleyball team cast them sympathizing looks.

Semi slowed down a bit as he glanced ahead, a frown forming on his lips. "At least we didn't get stuck doing that." He pointed to the girls' soccer team who were all busy scrubbing the garbage grates.

"Or that," said Yamagata, motioning to a group of tennis players who were all beating their rackets against the rugs hanging from a clothesline. Dust erupted into the air, nearly obscuring them from view. One boy had to cover his face with a handkerchief to keep from breathing in all the dust.

"Or…hang on, is she vacuuming?" Jin paused, watching in confusion as a girl ran an industrial-sized vacuum cleaner through the center aisle of the horse barn. Outside, the horses were all lined up, waiting their turn to be washed and groomed in the front paddock. Somehow, they all seemed guilty for being covered in stall shavings. One gelding, in particular, had large, sorrowful eyes as he was approached by a boy with clippers and a curry brush.

Jin looked on, bemused. "Cripes, not even the horses are allowed to be dirty."

Tendou rolled his shoulders again, feeling anxious. Seeing the degree to which the disciplinary committee's influence had spread across campus was alarming. Everyone was working with intense concentration, worried they might get banned from the festival if they were caught slacking. They moved like prisoners, focused entirely on their assignments with little room for conversation to help break up the monotony. It didn't help matters that the disciplinary committee roamed the school like prison guards, checking students at random. One boy wore a pair of white gloves with the sole purpose of running his finger along surfaces to check for dust.

I don't like this. Tendou swept his gaze across the grounds, finding no trace of Hanamura anywhere. He failed to spot her in their morning muster and prayed she was somewhere safe. Please let her be dusting books in the library or polishing the scalpels in the science lab…somewhere out of sight…

There was no denying that this was a trap. An elaborate set up to capture anyone who was not of the mind to chase perfection. If Mrs. Osakabe and the disciplinary committee were after a vision of absolute flawlessness – a rose, fully bloomed, unblemished and whole – then someone of Hanamura's ilk could not escape their discerning eye for long. They intended to wield the student handbook like a pair of pruning shears, cutting away at any defective weeds. And Hanamura was exactly that – a weed. A resilient flower of such wild joy and untamable roots with a lifeforce that threatened to take over the whole garden. With a risk that large, she'd be the first to go.

Tendou gripped his mop bucket, the whites of his knuckles shining in the daylight.

Discovering the whistleblower was suddenly tantamount to learning Hanamura's secret. Tendou knew someone was feeding information to the disciplinary committee, and even though Kazane had assured him the cheer squad was already on the hunt, he felt it was his duty as a fellow misfit and school deviant to protect her. He did not want to see the school break Hanamura as it nearly did during their first term. To watch her fire extinguish…that luminous glow that was steadily burning brighter and brighter with each passing day…He would never forgive himself if he let it go out.

Being different comes with a great deal of hardship, he had told her, not everyone is willing to understand you – no matter how hard you try to convince them.

The memory caused a flare of anger in his chest. Convincing others was irrelevant, he realized. It was convincing oneself to press on despite the hardship that was so vital. He had learned that lesson for himself, clinging to the things in life that gave him joy despite the troubles he faced for being different. Hanamura was doing the exact same thing. She was finding her place in a school known for its tradition. In an environment so overwhelmingly obsessed with rules, it seemed Shiratorizawa was determined to suppress any uniqueness through its use of fear. But – Tendou's thoughts sharpened into focus – fear was only effective on the weak or insecure. Hanamura was neither. How would the school contend with someone who was no longer controlled by fear?

A wildflower was a curious thing after all. It flourished in the hardest of places, withstanding the most brutal of conditions. It required no gardener, no pruning, no doting, only the soft, gentle gaze of someone to help it realize its own beauty.

Tendou could do that for her. He could help Hanamura flourish.

As they made their way toward the maintenance shed, the small building next to the barn where the groundskeeping department was housed, Tendou decided he would do whatever it took to keep the disciplinary committee from getting its way. He would risk suspension from the festival if it meant giving Hanamura the chance to realize her vision. If they saw what he saw, a girl who was unaffectedly curious with a good heart, perhaps the school would not be so quick to stamp out her uniqueness.

"Good work, gentlemen. If you'll just empty your buckets there," said the head groundskeeper, a middle-aged man with silver at his temples. He pointed to the sewage drain next to the garden hoses. They did as they were told, pouring their soapy water into the grate before returning their equipment in the storage closet. "Much obliged." He lifted his cap in thanks, delighted to have all this free help. Already, he was grinning at the sight of the girls' badminton club bringing up their pails of yard clippings. "If you'll excuse me, lads." He adjusted his cap, strolling forward to meet them.

Tendou and the others ran their hands under the garden spigot when footsteps approached.

"What's this? They got you cleaning all over the school too?"

The baseball team appeared, led by their catcher, a stout boy with tanned cheeks. They were all carrying the same equipment: mops, buckets, and dust rags. But they seemed far more curious, maybe even a bit taken aback, to find the volleyball team doing the same manual work.

"Not even Shiratorizawa's golden boys were spared the degradation, huh? Have they no shame?" The catcher looked at them sympathetically, lifting his baseball cap in a salute. "S'not right what they're doing – working us like mules. The principal goes and gives them special privileges and they're already abusin' them." His voice fell into a thick rural accent all of a sudden. They noticed he put his hat on backwards too, furthering his persona as a rebel. "We've been thinkin' about bandin' together – me and the boys. Organizin' ourselves into a little group. We figure they can't order us around if it's us against them, right?"

Tendou furrowed his brow. "Wait...are you talking about unionizing?"

"Here? At the school?" Shirabu further questioned him.

"Why not? There's no rules against it in the student handbook." The catcher spat into his water pail, running his tongue under his lower lip. "Who do they take us for anyway? We're not gettin' paid enough to clean urinals day and night!"

"We're not getting paid period," said Kawanishi.

"Right? That's exactly my point!" The catcher smiled, pointing at Kawanishi as he turned to his teammates. "See? Ginger here gets it! No wages, no benefits…We demand our rights!"

Kawanishi visibly reacted to being called a ginger. He opened his mouth to fire a retort, but someone else beat him to the punchline.

"STAY ON TASK, PEOPLE! STAY ON TASK! NO CHIT-CHAT!" The dark-headed boy with the purple armband shouted from across the yard. "THIS EVENT GOES LIVE IN T-MINUS 96 HOURS! WE HAVE TO STAY ON TASK!"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, brown noser." The catcher tossed his hands dismissively, eyeing the boy with a scowl. "Good for nothin' goodie-two-shoes, the whole lot of 'em." He spat into his pail again, making everyone grimace. "Look, all I'm sayin' is…you boys get tired of cleanin' – come find us in the common room tonight at midnight." He patted Kawanishi's shoulder. "Tell 'em Jiro sent ya. And don't forget to bring ya club dues."

"Uh…I don't think we will, but thanks for the offer," said Reon, taking a step in front of Kawanishi who was presently festering with outrage. He had straightened every vertical line in his body and towered behind Reon in all his middle blocking glory.

The catcher simply shrugged. Picking up his water pail, he lumbered up to the sewage drain. His persona as a hard-boiled factory worker was so convincing, the rest of the baseball team followed his lead as he tried to hit up the girls' badminton club next.

Tendou watched him go, feeling strangely relieved. It was good to know that not everyone was content with the way the disciplinary committee was handling things. If the baseball team was putting out feelers for a campus-wide union, then perhaps the collective consciousness of the school was already beginning to shift toward something new. That had to be a silver lining.

"Does he really talk like that?" Shirabu asked, sounding shocked by the idea that he somehow made it past the entrance exams.

"No. He took an improv class last year," said their captain. "Got big into accents."

"Ah."

"BREAK TIME IS NOT FOR ANOTHER FIFTEEN MINUTES!" The boy continued, sounding slightly peeved that the volleyball team had not moved. "IF YOU HAVE COMPLETED YOUR ASSIGNMENT, PLEASE REPORT TO YOUR CLASS REPRESENTATIVE!"

"Speaking of which, where is she?" Tendou scanned the yard for copper hair and a delicate face. Ushijima came up beside him, doing a scan of his own.

As they searched for Akiko, Tendou was shocked to see a range of new endeavors taking place across campus. The theater club had begun work on the outdoor stage, using a crane and two forklifts to raise scaffolding in the center of the courtyard. The stage was positioned over the square the art club had measured a few weeks ago, but it was nearly twice as big. Its metal arch glittered with the same imposing beauty as the Eiffel Tower, its shape reminiscent of a clam shell. Several shipping containers full of patio furniture were parked alongside it, and already students were unloading tables and chairs, pitching the small white tents that would serve as vendor stalls along the sidewalks. If that wasn't impressive enough, curious props began making their way onto campus too: large fish kites, flower coronets and silk garlands, taiko drums – a beaded palanquin. The boys' swim club had the pleasure of manning a 60-foot-long dragon puppet. It slithered over the grass, looking for something to swallow in its gaping red mouth.

Tendou took it in with wide eyes.

Wow…Shiratorizawa's sparing no expense this year, he thought in awe. We'll soon be competing with every other famous matsuri in Japan…There won't be any money left…

"There she is," said Ushijima, drawing Tendou's attention to the tent by the parking lot.

Akiko appeared in her most lavish way yet, emerging from a field of yellow carnations. A local florist had just unloaded them from his truck, setting several dozen bushel baskets on the grass. But that hardly mattered. The world stopped turning on its axis. Harps filled the air as songbirds dived around her like winged cherubs. Everything was suddenly cast in soft focus as she strolled forward, pausing to tuck her nose inside a particularly fragrant bloom. She too was wearing the school-issued jumpsuit, but it was cinched tightly at her waist with her sleeves rolled up. Her hair had been gathered in a white handkerchief and her Mary Janes gave her a noticeably vintage flair.

They both froze, awestruck.

"I believe this is everything you ordered, miss," said the florist, a young man in possession of remarkably handsome features. His voice carried across the yard, reaching their ears with ease. He plucked a flower from his apron and handed it to her. "Except this one…This one I brought expressly for you."

Akiko took the carnation with a mild look of surprise. "Oh, uh…thank you. It's lovely."

The florist smirked. "It would be lovelier if you wore it in your hair. Here, allow me." He took the flower and proceeded to thread it behind her ear. The way he crouched close to her face as he brushed her hair back…it was far too rehearsed to be genuine. Even Akiko seemed dubious, giving herself a double chin as she pulled away as far as her face would allow. But as the florist took a step back to assess his work, he seemed sincerely pleased. "There. A beautiful flower for a beautiful girl." He winked at her before returning to his truck. "Ciao bella."

Tendou flattened his gaze.

Oh please…as if anyone would actually fall for that, he thought as he glanced to Ushijima in a can-you-believe-this-guy sort of way. But Ushijima wasn't paying attention. Ushijima was staring straight ahead, his mouth parted in an expression of absolute horror. The scene had come as a terrible shock. He was breathing very loudly through his nose all of a sudden, his eyes a painful shade of green.

Uh oh, thought Tendou. This can't be good.

Wordlessly, Ushijima set off at a march. His body cut through the air, creating a gulfstream that jostled the others.

"Whoa…what's wrong?" Yamagata asked. "Why is he walking so fast?"

"Uhhhh…We're on a tight schedule," lied Tendou as he began powerwalking. "Try and keep up!"

The others began powerwalking too.

Meanwhile, Akiko was assessing the flowers, completely unperturbed by her close encounter with the florist. She stood with hands against her hips, formulating a plan.

"Alright. Take these to the tea pavilion," she instructed a pair of boys who were gaping at her stupidly, "and make sure they get a drink of water. I don't want them wilting in the sun."

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Grab the chinaware and table linens from storage while you're at it too."

"Right away, ma'am!"

"That'll kill three birds with one stone." She maneuvered by the tent. "Are those ready to be delivered?" She asked two girls hovering over a box of invitations. They nodded, bobbing their matching side ponytails. "Of course, ma'am!" They chimed together.

"Good. Get those over to the post office when you can. Use the petty cash to cover your expenses."

"Yes, ma'am!"

She checked her wristwatch. "Nishioka, have you heard anything from the curators yet?"

"I'm afraid not, Asano. Last I heard, they were running half an hour behind schedule," said a first-year boy who was missing both of his eyebrows. He sat at a table with a radio in hand, pouring over his notes. "They said their police escort was stuck in traffic."

Akiko pursed her lips. "Right. Keep me posted. I don't want to miss them."

"Yes, ma'am! Will do, ma'am!"

A group of third-year boys strolled by just then, looking very suspicious with their slow grins and wandering eyes. They had caught sight of Akiko batting the flower from her hair and made a sharp detour towards her tent.

"Hey, Asano. Nice shoes you got there," said their leader as he waved to her casually. He had a strong academic look about him. His hair was black and sleek and parted down the middle. Tendou recognized him as the captain of the mathletes team. A dangerous fellow to be hanging around Akiko – especially as he was everything Ushijima was not. He had a greasy, conniving air about him as he sauntered close, asking, "working hard or hardly working?"

The dance club scattered as Ushijima mowed through their pile of leaves. He snatched one of their rakes, holding it like a hunting spear. "Hey!" They cried out, but his focus was entirely on Akiko. The rest of the volleyball team shadowed him in hot pursuit.

"No…no…Wakatoshi." Tendou pulled the rake from his hand. "Be sensible now. They're only talking!"

But Ushijima wasn't listening. He was homed in on the mathletes who were circling Akiko like a pack of hungry wolves. Their leader was poking around the tent, eyeing her with interest. She waved back to him distractedly, but her attention was fixed to a blonde girl who was delivering a cart of boxes. "Where do you want these to go, Asano?" She asked. "There's over half a dozen cases. They just showed up this afternoon."

"These must be the restroom amenities," said Akiko, inspecting the package label. "Yep. Soaps, hand lotions, potpourri…you can start putting these in the bathrooms. Lavender for the men, rose for the women." She turned to the mathletes. "Would any of you care to assist her?"

Their captain slicked back his hair with a cavalier grin. "I can assist you. Anything you need, you can count on me, Asano." He took special care to deepen his voice as he said, "from now on, I'm your man."

Nishioka glared from his place in the tent. The blonde girl rolled her eyes as she left. Ushijima flew over the grass, practically sprinting at this point. Tendou was able to match him step for step, but the others were struggling to keep up, mystified by the sudden urgency. Their ace was never this excitable outside of volleyball tournaments and it had them wondering if Seijoh had appeared on campus to cause trouble. Ushijima was no longer their stoic, unassuming farmer's boy. He was a formidable sun god shedding light of the most intense and terrible kind.

There were more casualties. The dragon puppet came to an abrupt halt, folding like a giant accordion as Ushijima cut through its path. Half the swim team got caught in its red and gold tassels, grumbling loudly. The beaded palanquin swerved to miss the dragon but knocked over the taiko drums that caused a girl to trip and ruin her silk garland. A profusion of heated complaints filled the air in his wake.

Tendou mentally kicked himself. He should have seen this coming. After the way Akiko addressed the school yesterday with her unequivocal loveliness, she was attracting the attention of more and more boys. Those who were circling her tent now were not there to perform selfless acts of altruism. No. They were all jockeying for the chance to speak with her. At this rate, it was only a matter of time before she started receiving love confessions, and with the festival just around the corner, everyone was getting bolder.

Tendou glanced to the ace pensively. He understood Ushijima's reasons for keeping his relationship with Akiko a secret, but it probably never occurred to him that he might have to one day contend with a rising number of rivals. Or that Akiko would have to navigate the slippery slope of unwanted male attention. Ushijima was steadfast in all things, but when it came to matters of the heart, he was just as susceptible as the next man. How much longer would he be content with keeping her a secret?

As Tendou mulled this question, another deliveryman approached Akiko, this time a grandfatherly figure who was wielding a cart full of glass swans.

"Where would you like these ice sculptures to go, miss?"

Akiko spun around, wisps of copper hair tumbling from her handkerchief. It all seemed to happen in slow motion, the sunlight intensifying all around her. The delivery man gaped.

"The kitchens. We better keep them in the freezer until this weekend. They're part of the visitor's kiosks," she said as she signed his invoice. "Nishioka, could you show him to the cafeteria?"

The boy with missing eyebrows seemed reluctant. "Alright, but…just know I'd do anything for you, Asano," he declared, making sure his voice carried over to the third years. He got up slowly from the table and lead the deliveryman toward the school. For his part, the deliveryman was still blinking back his stupor, clearly impressed.

"Whoa. Who's the nice-looking gal back there? She your girlfriend?" He asked Nishioka. "In my day, the boys would've waged war over a girl like that. She's as pretty as a fox."

"I would die for her," said Nishioka.

Ushijima reached the tent at last, frothing like a wild beast. The whites of his eyes glowed and his chest heaved from exertion. He was the Great Ace at the cusp of winning the final match point: magnificent and ferocious; single-minded – capable of breaking a player's hands with a single spike. The air rippled with his animosity. Tendou materialized beside him, releasing the Guess Monster in his most sinister form. All the lines in his body curved as he split into a smile of pure sadistic joy.

"I suggest moving along, gentlemen," he intoned coolly, "before you get cited for negligence."

Ushijima took a step forward. "Or else."

The captain of the mathletes looked up and, in the span of a second, turned fatally white. Sensing his life was in jeopardy, he quickly backed away from Akiko, his eyes trained on Tendou and Ushijima as if he were seeing the two harbingers of death. The rest of the wolves shied away too, finding the protective barrier around her impenetrable. It was gratifying watching them flee with their tails between their legs. But not as gratifying as seeing the relief wash over Akiko as she spun around.

"Oh, it's you!" She exclaimed, cutting her gaze briefly to Ushijima. She took a breath, smoothing the hair out of her face. "What perfect timing. Is it noon already?"

Tendou dropped the Guess Monster act, squaring his shoulders.

"Everything alright, boss? Those guys giving you trouble?" He jutted his chin to the third years.

"Hmm? Oh, that?" Akiko glanced over her shoulder. "I'm not really sure what that was about, but…I'm certainly glad to see you." She smiled, her cheeks polished to an apple shine. She took them both in, realizing they were windswept and wild. "My goodness, you two are out of breath. You've been working hard, haven't you?" She looked them over with a frown. "Were you successful in cleaning the school?"

Tendou and Ushijima opened their mouths to speak, but she pressed on, saying, "I can't thank you enough for going to all the trouble. I know the disciplinary committee has everyone up in arms right now, and I don't particularly agree with how they're going about things, but…I have to admit…they are saving the council a tremendous amount of work." She closed her eyes as if it pained her greatly to say this. "I don't know what we would have done had they not stepped in when they did. Everything's such a mess right now."

Tendou frowned. "What do you mean?"

Akiko looked troubled. "Well…Normally, it falls on the council to oversee preparations, but we didn't anticipate being in session so late in the week. With the donors coming this year, everything seems to have been affected – the budget, the politics, the paperwork…If we were still left in charge, it would've been another two weeks before we could host the actual event. That's how slow it's going." She glanced around cautiously before adding, "And what's worse is the principal's secretary has been attending all the meetings lately, and every proposal that's put up for a vote has to go through his rigorous inspection process. I mean – it's already Tuesday and the council's still in a filibuster over the entomology club's request for a butterfly garden. A butterfly garden!" She shook her head, alerting Tendou and Ushijima that this was quite outrageous. She took a breath, crossing her arms over her chest. "So anyway, they've asked me to oversee the delivery tent and the helpdesk until the others are relieved of their council duties. I'm to be a one-woman show this week."

Tendou digested this information with growing unease.

"Who asked you to do this? The council?"

Akiko shook her head. "No. The disciplinary committee."

When Tendou continued to stare at her dubiously, she grew solemn.

"They supersede the council now," she explained. "Anything that passes through the SGC is automatically routed to them for final approval. I heard all requests go to Mrs. Osakabe."

"What?" Tendou stared off into the parking lot, his mind running in several different directions at once. He had a horrible sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. If things seemed like a trap before, it was definitely the case now. He eyed Akiko worriedly.

"And they expect you to run this by yourself?" He asked her, narrowing his gaze. "Why?"

Akiko blinked, but then took to chewing her lip.

"Well, let's face it…I'm a glorified paper-pusher," she said, dropping her gaze somewhat dejectedly. "The disciplinary committee felt I was the most expendable council member to be excused from session. My duty is limited to administrative support, so…nothing special." She hunched her shoulders. "They did permit my secretary, Nishioka, to assist me though, so I'm not completely alone." She smiled at this, trying to cover up her hurt. "And I seem to be handling everything just fine…people are so nice to me all of a sudden." She frowned. "It's sort of strange…I've never spoken to the third years until now."

To this, Ushijima tensed.

"Ah, that's actually why we're here – to offer our services," said Tendou on his behalf. "We were told to report to you for tomorrow's schedule, so…here we are." He motioned to the rest of the team as they finally caught up. "Consider us your personal task force."

Akiko paused, a soft blush dusting her cheeks. "Really? You're here for me?" She turned to Ushijima, peering at him coyly through her lashes. His intensity must have struck her as the peak of his masculine charm for she was unable to keep the attraction from her voice when she said, "it sure would be nice to have you handy."

Ushijima lifted his brows, causing her to gasp.

"A-All of you–! Have all of you handy–! The whole team–! IT WOULD BE NICE TO HAVE ALL OF YOU HANDY–!"

Akiko issued a garbled cry, embarrassed by her slip. Covering her face, she quickly fled under the tent to hide behind a stack of boxes. The team could do nothing but stand there, dazed – glamoured by how prettily she carried on. Tendou felt a surge of sympathy for her and wondered how on earth Ushijima could withstand her damsel-in-distress allure. It had a way of inciting a man's honor, calling him to fulfill his chivalric duty as knight and protector. Already, the team was bolstering as if prepared to swear an oath under her banner. But as Tendou cut his gaze to the ace, he saw that Ushijima was not so impervious at all. In fact, he was quite tense, his jaw clenching with a look of deep disquiet. Tendou had never seen him so conflicted before.

"I'll have arrangements made for you to help me tomorrow," said Akiko as she used Nishioka's clipboard as a distraction. She was once more businesslike, withdrawn. "The blackjack tables are scheduled to arrive first thing in the morning, and I could use the extra help keeping the petting zoo under control. The riding club will need help setting up their jump standards, and the caterers are coming at eleven o'clock to do a taste testing with the kitchen staff…I should warn you though, most of this is rather tedious: keeping call logs, answering questions, routing volunteers…You're sure you want to help?"

"Of course," said Tendou. "Believe it or not, Ushiwaka here is quite the domestic type."

He turned to the ace with a smile, hoping to smooth out the tension that was still lingering in the air, but Ushijima had already vacated his spot on the grass and joined Akiko in the tent. He towered over her, nearly blocking her from view. She was forced to tilt her head back to meet his gaze and, like this, they accentuated each other's differences to such a degree it was almost painful to look at. His strength and virility matched with her tenderness and beauty.

Ushijima stared at her for a moment, his gaze unflinching.

"You're not a glorified paper-pusher," he said at last. "What you do is important too."

To everyone eavesdropping, it sounded like he was giving her a curt reprimand, but to Akiko, it must have been the greatest compliment she had ever been paid. She froze, her eyes filling with hot emotion. He had touched on the pain she was trying to hide and it made her flush.

"Oh, that's…that's very kind of you to say." She averted her gaze, her face crumpling slightly.

"It's not kindness, it's the truth."

Akiko, quite possibly reaching her most beautiful shade of red yet, looked pleasurably flustered.

"W-Well…Thank you. I–"

Uhhh…control center to helpdesk, rang the radio sitting on the table. We got a situation on our hands.

The sudden transmission caused Akiko to jump. Dropping the clipboard, she scrambled to pick up the radio. It might as well have been a fish coated in oil for she nearly dropped it twice, having it almost land in a box of freshly-printed brochures. "Go for helpdesk," she wheezed.

Uhhh yeah…It appears the llama escaped her pen again and is currently holding the golf club hostage near the baseball gutters. We've locked in on their location from the belltower. They've carved an S.O.S. into the infield. The zoology club just called it in, said the llama's been missing from the petting zoo for at least an hour now, said the dispatcher. Can you send someone right away?

"Again?" Akiko closed her eyes. "I told them it was a bad idea to have the animals delivered so early in the week." She blew wisps of hair from her face. "Copy. Has the llama spit on anyone yet?"

Uhhh…That's a negative, ma'am. Best approach with extreme caution. Our log says she ate all the pansies in the garden beds this morning. In other words, she's fully loaded.

Akiko sighed. "Roger. I'm on my way. Tell groundskeeping we need a replant on those pansies pronto."

Affirmative. God speed, helpdesk.

"Thanks."

Akiko held gazes with Ushijima then and a private understanding must have been reached for she was no longer flushed or embarrassed. Clipping the radio to her hip, she gathered her hair back under her handkerchief. Rummaging through the box stashed under the table, she produced a face shield, a bag of carrots, and a rope. All of this was stuffed into a bag that she quickly slung over her shoulder.

"Sorry guys. You'll have to excuse me. Looks like I'm on rescue duty this afternoon," she said with another glance at her wristwatch. "I've gotta save the golf club in time to meet with the curators of the Museum of Natural History. The archaeology club loaned a mummy from their permanent collection, so you know it's going to be a whole ordeal." She rolled her eyes humorously. "Drop a line with my secretary, Nishioka, when you can. He'll get you squared away for tomorrow. Thanks again for all your help!" She donned a pair of gloves before climbing into the golf cart that was parked next to the tent. She shifted it into gear, checking her visor before setting off across the lawn. They watched her go, impressed.

"Is it just me or does project management really suit her?" murmured Semi.

Tendou cut his gaze to Ushijima.

The ace stood with his face still mired in shadow. He was definitely troubled.

. . . . . . . .

As the afternoon wore on, the team did not look forward to practice. They dressed in the locker room, hardly saying a word to each other as they swapped their festival fatigues for tracksuits. Tendou taped his fingers absently, his mind still reeling from all Akiko had told him earlier. He was now painfully aware of just how many boobytraps were set across school and how easy it would be for the art club to get caught. He hoped Hanamura had a few aces up her sleeve. As it stood now, they had everything to lose.

Heaving a sigh, Tendou contemplated his next move. All his efforts at swindling information were coming up short, and it would be twice as difficult keeping a lookout for trouble now that the team was assisting Akiko all week. He had the strong inclination that she had been excused from the council deliberately, and whatever reasons the disciplinary committee gave her, it was plain to see it had come as a shock. Akiko had a strong grasp of school politics. Leading her to believe she was the most expendable member was the poorest excuse he had ever heard. He had a hunch this had more to do with her close affiliation to her sister and the art club than anything else.

I'll ask her about it tomorrow. Maybe she has an idea of who the whistleblower might be.

As Tendou zipped up his jacket, he decided this arrangement was for the best. Undercover activities aside, providing Ushijima a platonic reason for remaining close to Akiko was the most important thing right now. As their self-appointed secret keeper, it had become a routine of his to serve as the boisterous buffer whenever they were out together in public. He had become something of an expert between Akiko's flustered statements and Ushijima's intense silences, translating them effortlessly. He would continue to do whatever he could to shield Akiko from unwanted attention, but eventually, Ushijima would have to decide what to do on his own.

I only hope it's enough. I've never seen him like this before.

Tendou glanced across the room and found Ushijima dressing with a troubled look on his face. His movements – usually tight and controlled – were graceless, mechanical, and a degree or two less effective. When it was brought to his attention that his shirt was on backwards, the team waited patiently for him to correct the error only to discover his shoes were on backwards too.

"Are you alright?" Reon asked him, quirking a brow. "You're acting strange. This isn't like you."

"It's my fault," said Tendou, thinking fast on his feet. "I kept him up late reading Crimson Warrior."

This earned him the appropriate disapproving looks.

"Your midnight sojourns are really getting out of hand, Tendou," warned Jin. "Did you two sleep at all last night?"

Tendou scowled in response. Ushijima had slept perfectly fine. It was Tendou who tossed and turned all night, wondering how he was going to get to the bottom of Operation Magpie before it was too late. If anyone had the right to complain it was him. But Tendou kept silent, hoping it would give Ushijima enough time to calm down. His sun god demeanor had yet to diminish and he might as well have been a thousand miles away on some mythical voyage for all the attention he gave his shoelaces.

But then, quite suddenly, he stirred.

"The mathlete captain," said Ushijima, his voice low and dangerous. "What's his name?"

The locker room grew quiet as they all glanced at him sideways. He only ever spoke this way when preparing to eliminate competition – competition he took a personal offense to, an extremely rare occurrence. On such occasions, his animosity acted as a signpost, alerting the team they were in the midst of an extraordinarily skilled opponent. Hearing that animosity now took them all by surprise.

"Why? What's he to you?" Reon asked.

Ushijima leaned against his thighs, his eyes cast in deep shadow.

"He was disrespectful to Asano," he said quietly. "He should be made to pay."

"AHA!" Shirabu pointed a finger in his face, exclaiming, "I knew it! I knew it! You're just trying to look good, aren't you? Now that you know I'm close to Izakaya, you're trying to score points with her sister, Akiko!" He scoffed derisively. "Wow. I never took you for a copycat."

"Shirabu, what the hell are you talking about?" asked Semi. "Ushijima's not into that stuff. Right?"

Ushijima ignored him, addressing their captain instead.

"Tell me his name and the location of his homeroom," he ordered. "I'll pay him a visit."

Their captain drew back a step. "And do what? Make sure he never walks again?"

Ushijima's gaze flickered. "Perhaps."

Their captain gaped. "Uh, no…I don't think so. We can't afford any scuffles between now and Nationals." He stared at Ushijima in disbelief. "Coach would bury you alive if he found out you went after a mathlete. Do you even hear yourself?" He shook his head. "I don't even understand why this is an issue. Asano can take care of herself. If she knows her way around an angry llama, then I'm sure she can handle one measly mathlete. There's no need to get involved."

Ushijima glared, the severity of his expression sharp as talons. He rose from the bench and it became increasingly apparent just how tall he was. His shadow always had an impressive way of swallowing up a person, but their captain was shrouded in complete darkness, the whites of his eyes glowing in terror.

"What's going on?" Semi whispered to Tendou. "Why's he so upset?"

Tendou bared his teeth in a grimace. Ushijima was still on the warpath. He was bullying their captain for information which made for a shockingly new experience. One that, were this any other competitive situation, Tendou would have congratulated him for expanding his emotional range. But all he could do now was shrug his shoulders feebly.

"I dunno. He woke up on the wrong side of the bed?"

"So this is definitely your fault," said Semi.

Tendou felt as if he had just swallowed a large, sour-tasting pill.

It was then their captain cleared his throat, trying to appear unfazed by Ushijima's threatening form. "Come on." He pushed past him to get to the door. "We better move before Washijo does us in."

They followed him outside, their overall camaraderie as disjointed as a bicycle on bent wheels. Shirabu, still festering with resentment, was kept at a safe distance from Ushijima. Ushijima kept staring expectantly at their captain. Their captain walked faster than normal, no doubt trying to escape the cold bite of his shadow. And Tendou brought up the rear, dragging his feet against the sidewalk, exhausted. They had the great misfortune of meeting Coach Washijo at the doors.

"Well, nice of you all to finally show up," he snapped as they filed inside. "I was about to send a search party. Call the police to report missing persons. Glad to see you still have your wits about you."

The team lined up along the court, standing tall in their tracksuits with hands clasped behind their backs.

Washijo assessed them, his mood extra brittle today.

"Now that you're finished with the obligatory cleaning, we can finally get back to business," he said as he took to pacing the court. They watched him make several passes before he spoke again. "You'll be pleased to hear I've organized a three-day fasting to compliment a new workout regimen. I'm calling it 'The Widow Maker.' Accelerated calisthenics – I've done a lot of research, and the science checks out. This should help keep your bodies primed for competition."

The team wilted.

"But Coach, what about festival preparations?" Yunohama asked innocently. "Everyone else is putting training on hold to prepare for the event. Shouldn't we be doing the same?"

If ever there was a moment when everything came to a screeching halt, when nails dragged across chalkboards and knives scraped across plates, it would be now. All the warmth fled the gym, only to be replaced by a deadly frost that curled around their necks.

Washijo froze.

"Festival preparations?" He echoed. "Festival preparations, you say?"

The team shot Yunohama with petrified looks. How could he have said something so stupid in front of their coach? Was he flirting with disaster? Inviting rapture? They could all see that Washijo was slowly coming apart at the seams. He was barely hanging on for Nationals at this point. His face had withered down to the bone, his eyes hollow and gaping like those of a skeleton. His hair, which was usually combed neatly down the nape of his neck, had taken a life of its own, caught in the tendrils of black miasma radiating off his skin.

Tendou held his breath, cursing Yunohama for his foolishness. Washijo did not take kindly to such blatant shows of disrespect and had drawn and quartered a player for far less. Yunohama stood no chance of surviving and everyone knew it. They all braced themselves for a brutal tongue-lashing, but to their greatest bewilderment, Washijo barked with laughter. It was a harsh, startling sound that quickened the blood.

"How amusing." He paused, wiping an eye that was as dry as glass. "For a moment, it sounded as if the festival was more important than your training. That you thought you'd be free to do as you please. No more volleyball practice for an entire week, eh? Leave your coach high and dry, eh?" Washijo turned to their lieutenant coach. "Does that not sound absurd to you, Saito?"

He straightened. "Er…sir?"

Washijo approached Yunohama then, reaching up and patting a hand against his back. "It's alright, son. It's alright. I understand the delay in competition has confused you, that you're not thinking clearly. Being usurped by a wedding convention would cause anyone to grapple with the present circumstances. Why – I too have been subject to symptoms of confusion myself," he said in a sympathizing voice.

Yunohama relaxed slightly, calmed by his soothing tone. But he should have known better. Compassion was to Washijo what lactose was to Shirabu: explosive, unpalatable, and deeply unpleasant. Even Saito had learned this vital lesson for himself as he walked the razor's edge of their coach's volleyball obsession. They all watched with a sickening dread as Washijo smiled.

"But let me make something perfectly clear. Right here, right now." He gripped Yunohama's shoulder, yanking him down so that their faces were uncomfortably close. "I own you, boy."

Yunohama fled his corporeal form, dropping to the floor in terror. Only then did Washijo release him as he turned to address the team.

"Lest we forget – you sold yourselves to me for volleyball, remember?" He said in a thin, serrated voice. "I have your contracts in my office to prove it. Signed and dated, effective immediately. Therefore–" he took a breath "–volleyball is your life. You live it, you breathe it, YOU WORSHIP IT! SHOULD YOU PERISH UNEXPECTEDLY, YOU'LL FIND YOURSELVES PLAYING FOR THE TEAM IN THE GODDAMN SKY! THIS IS AN ARRANGEMENT YOU CAN NEVER ESCAPE! NEVER! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"

Gone was Tanji Washijo their coach and in his place was a medieval religious zealot stamping out the fires of heresy from his church. If the Spanish Inquisition were still alive, it would find its equal in this small, terrifying man who had flames burning in the pits of his eyes. The team quaked with fear.

"Now," Washijo collected himself, smoothing his hair back, "that is the last bit of delusional speech I hear come out of your mouths, or so help me, I'll have them sewn shut! Is that understood?"

"YES SIR!"

"Good. Now go. A round of laps this evening. I don't want to see your faces until sundown. Yunohama–" Washijo narrowed his eyes into slits "–I don't want to see your face for the foreseeable future."

. . . . . . . .

They were sent up Dead Man's Hill as punishment. Bracing themselves against the cold, they took the round-about way through the park before weaving through the neighborhood for a few hours. The sky was deep crimson by the time they reached the summit and their faces were badly chapped, but it wasn't until they passed through the sliding glass doors of Swan Mart that they dare speak again.

"It's not fair. Soon everyone on campus will be enjoying their freedom while we're still working away like prisoners," Shirabu complained as he followed Tendou into the convenience store.

"What did you expect? The man's gone two whole months without an official game. He's worse than a recovering drug addict," said Tendou with a small shrug. "We should be so lucky he hasn't gone completely insane yet. Last year, he threatened to drop us off in the mountains by helicopter and leave us there to fend for ourselves in the wild – all because a scrimmage game got canceled."

Yunohama trailed behind them, agonizing.

"He…He never wants to see my face again…does this mean I'm off the team? It does, doesn't it?" He broke into a desperate cry. "What do I do?"

"Hey, hey. Relax. He doesn't mean it," Tendou consoled him gently. As the words left his mouth, he had to stop and reconsider. "Well…at least not after the first two days. If you hide in the equipment room until he asks for you, you'll know you're in the clear." Tendou patted his shoulder with a weak smile. "Best keep a low profile for now."

Yunohama looked marginally comforted by this.

The warmth of the store quickly enveloped them and they found Satsuki and Daisuke sitting together at the front counter in matching shop aprons. But whereas Daisuke looked oddly stricken, his eyes wide and bright like those of a deer, Satsuki greeted them with a girlish gasp.

"Well isn't this a pleasant surprise! Hello boys! It's so good to see you!"

She stepped away from the register, her flaming-red lips fashioned into a broad grin. She threw her arms out and made directly for Tendou. Moved by her sudden display of affection, he puffed out his chest, cutting a triumphant look at Daisuke as if he had just been replaced as the beloved grandson. Tendou opened his arms to receive her in a generous hug and knew for certain it would have been a deeply touching and comforting moment had she not shoved him aside to get to Ushijima.

"Hello, Ushiwaka!" She greeted him excitedly, clasping hands over her heart. "I see you're working extra hard today. Tanji never lets up on you, does he? Everything going well at school?"

Ushijima nodded solemnly. "Yes, ma'am."

Satsuki sobered, noticing the tangible air of tension surrounding him. The wrinkle in his brow was in close competition with the harsh line of his mouth, and though he always maintained a stern expression, this one was decidedly broodier. It was enough to send him off-kilter. The sliding glass door kept pushing against his foot as he lingered on the threshold, dazed.

Satsuki helped him into the store.

"Listen, I know things have been tough with the competition placed on the back-burner," she commiserated with a soft pat on his arm, "but don't worry, honey. I've heard through my garden club that the turnout this year is supposed to be bigger and better than ever. Just you wait! All of Japan will be watching you this winter, I'm sure of it. Daisuke and I already reserved our tickets."

This news seemed to assuage Ushijima for he gave her a small nod. "Ah."

Meanwhile, Tendou ambled to the front counter, eyeing his teammate with a stroke of jealousy. It was his turn to feel jilted. He could forgive Shirabu his heated, vindictive looks – Yunohama's feelings of abandonment too. In one fell swoop, Satsuki had dashed his dreams of becoming her number one favorite, a vanity he would have to learn to let go of. Leaning his elbows against the counter, Tendou tilted his head towards Daisuke.

"Sorry kid. I know it must be hard getting replaced by the Great Miracle Boy Ushiwaka every now and then," he murmured as they watched Satsuki fuss over the ace. Tendou's expression darkened as he said, "even I can't compete with him."

Silence hung onto the end of his statement, causing Tendou to frown.

"What? No cheeky comeback? Where's that rapier wit of yours?" He asked, prodding at Daisuke. "Afraid to insult me now that the whole team's here?" He crossed his arms over the counter, resting his chin with a sigh. "That's no fun. I didn't take you for a scaredy-cat."

Ironically, Daisuke dulled his gaze much like a cat flattened its ears. He turned sour.

"We're having a BOGO sale," he said stiffly, his cheeks flushing. "Buy one can of beet greens, get the second one free. I'll even throw in the prunes you love so much. You can get a Frequent Shoppers punch card too. Every nine cans of pickled fish you buy, you get your tenth one free." Though he was insulting Tendou to his face, it was far less effective with his eyes glued to the back of the store. Tendou studied the row of frosted refrigerator shelves too, finding nothing out of the ordinary.

"What is it? You see a ghost or something?" He asked as he stood to investigate further.

Daisuke remained abnormally tense, but it was Satsuki who drew his attention.

"Satori, your hot dame came by the shop this weekend," she said as she picked up a large vase of poppies and carried it over to the shop window. She teetered from the weight and Tendou hastily reached out to help her lift it onto the corner shelf where it framed a new display case of lipstick tubes.

"Suzume dropped by?"

Satsuki nodded. "She and her friends worked on their school project here. You'll be pleased to hear I've been sworn into the club." She adjusted the vase, stepping back to assess the window display. "They're a clever bunch – and devious too!" She broke into a small laugh. "I'm looking forward to the festival."

Tendou dropped his shoulders dejectedly. "Cripes. Not you too," he whined. "She's got everyone in on this secret but me." Pausing, he turned to her. "What were they working on exactly?"

"Nice try," said Satsuki, "but that won't work with me, boy. A pact's a pact."

Tendou scowled at her.

"Wow, they really have changed up their content. Look at this double-page spread of horoscopes," Yamagata was saying to Shirabu, catching Tendou's ear. Glancing up, he found them both standing over by the magazines, pouring over the latest issue of Shounen Jump.

"What does it say for Taurus?" Shirabu asked.

Tendou joined them, curious to know what it had to say as well. He and Shirabu shared the same zodiac sign. With all his other attempts at seeking information thwarted, perhaps the heavens could shed some light on his present predicament.

"Let's see…Taurus." Yamagata scanned the magazine, pausing at an impressive illustration of a white bull outlined in stars. His mouth quirked as he read aloud, "Among the entire zodiac family, you tend to be a savant with your finely-tuned senses, giving you an eye for beauty."

Tendou and Shirabu glanced to each other, finding this information obvious.

"Yes," said Shirabu.

"Go on," said Tendou.

Yamagata narrowed his eyes. "It says here that…you've discovered something truly divine, but…it leaves you afflicted with the restlessness of a lover unsatiated. The dreamlike Pisces circles your sixth house of virility and acquisition, remaining just outside your reach."

Tendou chewed his lip, finding himself identifying with this statement completely. That low burning fire remained in the pit of his stomach, a constant reminder of his hunger. He was starved for green eyes and soft lips and a warm body in his arms. The need was weakening him.

"The ripples she casts in the waters of your domain prevent you from seeing the truth," Yamagata read on, "but take heart, Taurus. You are not one to give up as you are known to be especially tenacious." He rolled his eyes at this. "Your restlessness will soon find its match in the approaching storm that enters your orbit. To claim what you desire, you must enter the tempest and slay the dangerous foe that lurks there. Only then will you discover the truth."

Tendou and Shirabu both frowned.

"A dangerous foe, huh?" Tendou raked a hand through his hair, his mind instantly dwelling on the disciplinary committee. Already, he envisioned the school as a dark, foreboding fortress surrounded by the nine realms of hell. It was unnerving to think that even the stars portended danger along the horizon. A clash was imminent.

Shirabu looked equally worried, but his gaze landed on Ushijima who remained by the windows in a sullen mood. He sized him up and down like a rival at a tournament, his eyes narrowing considerably.

"What's his sign?" He asked, jutting his chin at Ushijima.

"Leo," said Tendou.

Shirabu took the magazine from Yamagata, running his finger down the page.

"Leo, of all the zodiac signs, you are known for your confidence. It manifests as a ferocious fire, sometimes coming across as arrogance. But underneath your intensity is the pure and noble heart of a king." Shirabu curled his lip, not bothering to hide his annoyance. "But even the brightest fires are susceptible to darkness, the strongest to weakness." Shirabu paused, his voice turning cryptic. "Therefore, heed this warning, Leo. Your Garden of Eden is under threat."

Ushijima stirred from his trance. Turning away from the windows, he stared at Shirabu intensely.

"What do you mean?"

Tendou took the magazine from Shirabu, preventing the setter from gloating too much at this sudden mention of an Achille's heel. Locating the image of a roaring lion, he read, "The harmonious Gemini, a close companion of your ninth house of…friendship," Tendou altered the word 'romance' for secrecy's sake, "has been seen parading in her veil of sunshine and goodness. The shadows of the cosmos draw ever nearer to claim her for their own. Already, they clamor outside the gates, seeking entrance. Now is a time for constant vigilance. In the coming days, your game of secrecy will have run its course, but not without one final tryst." Tendou looked to Ushijima, his brow furrowing. "It says, 'Know this: the moment your voice fails, light will prevail.'"

Ushijima firmed up his stance, lifting his head with a look of uncertainty. "I'm to lose my voice?"

"Why do all of these sound so ominous?" Yamagata asked with a frown. "I thought these were supposed to be light-hearted. You know, cheesy. Now I'm worried what it has to say about mine."

"You're an Aquarius, right?"

He nodded, hesitant.

Tendou studied the magazine. His lips moved silently as he absorbed the text that was printed alongside an image of a solemn water bearer. The more he read, the more he scowled, and as he read it over again for the second time, then the third time, he did so with increasing severity.

"Uh…Hayato," he murmured, looking up, "I think you're in serious trouble."

Yamagata tensed. "Oh?"

Tendou dropped his gaze onto the magazine.

"Yeah…Whoever wrote this is freaking out on your behalf. It's even written in italicized characters." He narrowed his eyes. "Almost like they're screaming."

"Why? What does it say?" Shirabu asked curiously.

By now, the rest of the team had drawn close, marveling at what could be printed inside the pages of a comic book that would cause so much concern. Even Satsuki joined in, standing alongside Ushijima as they both stared expectantly at Tendou.

"Do you want me to read it?" He asked.

Yamagata flitted his gaze to everyone, some of the color draining from his face as he realized he was the center of attention. He was quick to put out a brave front, scoffing to make light of the situation. "Pfft. How bad could it be? It's a horoscope, not a diagnosis." He laughed weakly. "I'm sure it's not that bad."

"It's bad," insisted Tendou.

Yamagata gulped.

"Just read it already!" Shirabu snapped.

Tendou cut him a dirty look. "Aquarius…among all the zodiac signs, you are a romantic idealist who values freedom above all else. You have lofty visions of desire, but your blind pursuit is not without its consequences. Just as the young Actaeon tainted the divine wood of the huntress, you too have unknowingly trespassed into mortal danger." Tendou glanced to him fearfully. "It says, 'if you are reading this now, Aquarius, RUN! Do it now! Run for the hills and seek shelter – before it's too late! Danger follows in your footsteps. You have encroached upon the deadly Cancer moon, and she has called the planets to her aid as Artemis assembles her warrior nymphs for the hunt. They have caught onto your scent and circle your fifth house of safety and reconciliation. BEWARE! Their arrows are pointed at your back–! You must pay the price for your transgression –! There's no escape–!"

Shirabu smacked the magazine out of Tendou's hands, shouting, "Stop it! Stop reading! Can't you see you're freaking him out?"

Sure enough, Yamagata had grown deathly white.

"Wait." He swallowed thickly, his brow breaking into a cold sweat. "I'm being hunted? By who?"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the door jingled. A shard of the deepest, darkest shadow cut across the floor, landing neatly between his feet.

"Yoohoo…Ha-ya-to," a girlish voice sang sweetly. "So this is where you've been hiding, huh?"

His face fell into an emaciated shadow.

"Oh no," he gasped. "It's her."

Turning around slowly, the team faced the newcomer and found none other than the vice-captain of the cheer squad standing in the doorway. She was dressed like a private investigator; all in black with a black peacoat and black leather gloves. Her hair was hidden underneath a black beret too, and the evening light struck a match against the fiery gold of her red eyes. Makoto simpered, her face bright and devious.

"You're a hard man to find when you want to be, Hayato," she went on in a voice that invited fear. "My squadron's been searching the grounds for you everywhere. We've looked high and low, thinking we might catch you in the restrooms again. But luckily, Shizuka spotted you making your way north and phoned it in." She strolled into the store, nodding politely to Satsuki. "Hello, Mrs. Matsushida. That shade looks lovely on you."

Satsuki winked at her. "Thank you, dear. They don't call me the Scarlet Bandit for nothing."

Makoto grinned wider. "I hope you don't mind if I conduct some business outside your store this evening," she said somewhat ruefully. "Swan Mart has always been our preferred dead drop site, and Captain Fujiwara appreciates your continued ah…discretion."

A furtive smile passed between them.

"Of course not. I'm happy to be of service," said Satsuki. "Us ladies have to look out for one another."

"Indeed we do."

The team glanced between them, growing increasingly concerned. The way they were carrying on, their conversation had strong undertones of criminality. Yamagata sank behind the shelves, wondering if he was about to be taken outside and shot.

Makoto turned to him. The corners of her lips flared dangerously.

"Don't be shy. Come with me for a sec," she ordered, motioning to him like a child. "It's time we have ourselves a little chit-chat."

When Yamagata made no move to budge from his hiding spot, Makoto snapped her fingers.

"Ladies, you can come out now."

Unbeknownst to the team, the cheer squad had been lying in wait this whole time, appearing throughout the store so the exits were sealed off. Two stood up from behind the counter and flanked Daisuke who remained perfectly seated on his stool. One quick glance told Tendou he had been coerced into silence. It terrified him to think they were that capable at concealment. Shivers crawled down his spine as he found them all dressed in the same black peacoat and leather gloves, their faces obscured by sunglasses. They must have sampled Satsuki's new lipstick line too for they all bore the same flaming-red mouth. Tendou imagined them smirking, but it could have been a trick of the light. They were all so businesslike.

"Ah yes. Guerrilla warfare," said Makoto gleefully. "Proven to be the most effective way of undermining an opponent's sense of safety. You never know when we might strike."

The heels of her boots clicked on the tiled floor as she turned, gesturing outside. "Well? Shall we?"

She gave a curt nod, signaling for the cheerleaders to condense and form a tight circle around Yamagata just as they did the day of his interview. Yamagata adopted the same guilt-ridden look he had then too, only this time he was twice as petrified about surrendering into their custody. The rest of the team were forced back, unable to do anything beyond shooting him bleak looks of encouragement.

They stepped out onto the sidewalk and veered left, heading straight for the shade tree at the corner of the store. The moment the door slid shut, everyone rushed to the windows.

"Quick! How many days has it been since his interview?" Jin asked Reon.

"Seven."

Jin clapped his hands over his mouth. "This must be the final verdict!"

"The what? What's going on?" Satsuki asked, coming to join them by the windows. "What are we looking at?"

They all peered at her, confused.

"You mean, you don't know?"

"Know what?"

"Hayato wants to court one of the cheerleaders, but they have an intense vetting process," Tendou explained for her benefit. "It's practically impossible to get through the initial interview, but they told him they would make a final decision in three to five business days–"

"–and it's been seven!" Jin interrupted in his excitement. "We were beginning to lose hope."

They refocused their attention on the cheer squad. Kazane and Isami were both conveniently missing, but the rest had turned up, following their vice-captain with the same chilling militaristic grace they were so well known for. Yamagata and Makoto stood in the center in a tense Western-style faceoff. The leaves of the shade tree ruffled, its waxy leaves shimmering red. It was admirable that Yamagata looked so calm and resolute. His skin and hair were a rich tawny color, the sunset highlighting the strong modeling of his face. He was both vulnerable yet self-accepting, bracing himself for the unknown.

"Tendou, you're good at reading lips," said Reon, ushering him forward. "What's she saying?"

Tendou narrowed his gaze as he tried to make sense of the conversation.

"She's introducing him to someone. Shizuka, her soon-to-be successor," he said, pointing to the dour-faced girl with thick, chestnut hair. She stood beside Makoto, looking incredibly serious. If Tendou's memory served him correctly, Shizuka was one of the best fliers on the squad. She was the only member to perform a perfect pike, the most difficult jump in a cheerleader's repertoire. There was a brief pause as Tendou surveilled them. "That's odd…," he said, frowning, "Now they're talking about the Sendai Country Fair…Makoto's just asked if Hayato's ever baked bread before."

"What?" Semi and Shirabu turned to him curiously.

Tendou nodded. "Yep. She says Shizuka took first place in the bread-baking competition last fall for her braided challah. She's known for her use of the Devil's Noose…some sort of kneading technique…she's been asked to demonstrate…"

The team watched as Shizuka proceeded to fashion her knuckles into weapons, kneading and ripping at the imaginary dough with a cold exactitude that was borderline psychopathic. There was no denying the demonstration was violent in nature. From afar, it was easy to imagine she was strangling a person with her bare hands. All the color fled Yamagata's face as Shizuka delivered a fatal twist of the neck, separating the head from the body. Makoto and the others broke out into polite applause.

"Jesus Christ," said Jin.

"Now she's saying they all pitched in and got him something…a token of their regard," said Tendou, translating her fast-moving lips. Makoto reached into the pocket of her peacoat, and for a moment everyone – including Yamagata – tensed as if she were about to draw out a gun. But they were all relieved to see her produce a roll of parchment instead. The gilded edges caught the evening light, alerting them that it was some sort of certificate. At her urging, Yamagata unfurled it cautiously.

"That has to be it!" said Semi, grabbing Shirabu's face. "The final verdict!"

Satsuki clapped hands to her cheeks. "How exciting!"

Reon and Jin hung over Tendou's shoulders as they all pressed their faces against the window.

There, they languished in heavy silence. Everything in the store grew in volume to the point that the loud hum of the refrigerators filled the air. An older couple walked by the windows just then, slightly disturbed by the number of faces staring vacantly on the other side. But the team paid them no mind. Their attention was entirely on Yamagata.

He stared at the certificate with wide eyes, looking veritably lost. When he glanced to Makoto, she threw her arms out, causing him to jolt violently as she strolled forward and hugged him. The rest of the cheerleaders reached into their pockets, producing champagne poppers of which they directed solely at Yamagata. The sound of gunshots filled the air, followed by colorful bursts of confetti. Two girls held up a banner that read: Congratulations! You're not a douchebag!

Reon burst into laughter, smacking Jin on the shoulder. "They're welcoming him to the family!" He announced. "He's in! He's been approved!"

"Well I'll be damned," murmured Jin in awe. "He actually did it. The sappy romantic passed."

At that moment, everyone felt themselves a brother. All the strife of the day was immediately forgotten as they watched the cheerleaders perform a ritualistic chant, clapping their hands together in synchronized salute. There was a strong outpouring of fraternal joy as Yamagata wobbled back into the store, his face flushed and covered in confetti, the banner adorning his shoulders like a pageant sash. He leaned against the doorway and when he held up his certificate with starry black eyes, they could no longer contain their excitement.

"I did it!" He said, sounding hoarse. "I passed the background check! They've inducted me into the cheer squad as an honorary suitor!" He looked at them as if he had just woken up from a coma and was seeing their faces for the very first time. "They said I'm the first to pass in three consecutive years! Captain Fujiwara gave her express blessing. I–" his voice broke, now made heavy by the weight of his happiness. He lifted his gaze to the ceiling, his mouth spreading into a dazzling grin. "I get to ask Sasakura out!"

There was a chorus of wolf-whistles. Satsuki clapped her hands in joy.

"YOU GET TO ASK HER OUT!" They shouted together.

Yamagata stood tall, his face shining. "I GET TO ASK HER OUT!"

As the team surrounded him, accosting him with slaps to the back, bruising his spine, Satsuki announced a round of hot chocolate on the house. Daisuke reached from behind the counter and produced a tray of cups topped with whipped cream and sprinkles. There were more bawdy cheers as the store was transformed into a tavern, Yamagata was ushered to the counter like a war hero as he was given his pick of the refreshments. The team pulled away from the windows, but Tendou lingered, watching the cheerleaders from the other side of the street. Sensing his gaze, Makoto glanced over her shoulder and smiled.

Everything's fine, she mouthed to him with a wink. Go on and celebrate.

Adjusting the collar of her peacoat, Makoto held his gaze as a city bus trundled down the road. By the time it passed, the cheer squad had long since disappeared, their black silhouettes melting into the darkness.

Tendou lifted his gaze to the first few stars appearing in the night sky. Though Festival Week was shaping up to be horrendously difficult and the odds seemed ever stacked against him, if at the end of the day the cheer squad could find time to grant Yamagata the opportunity to chase the woman of his dreams, then Tendou had to believe that everything would be alright. Hanamura was strong and her friends capable. They were not without their resources.

And neither was he.

Tendou caught his reflection in the glass window, his eyes catching the last threads of light on the horizon. His hunger radiated more strongly than ever before, burrowing deep inside his stomach. It was time he did something about it.

---

A/N: Yay, another update! I'm so sorry for the long wait. This chapter ended up being way more complicated than I anticipated – and long too. Would you believe writer's fatigue finally caught up with me? It's one thing to be burned out, but to have all these ideas and the sudden inability to write is torture! I hope I'm coming out of it – I have so many ideas for the next installment.

Anyway, this was a huge dose of romantic tension from all the couples. Shirabu's in competition with Ushijima. Ushijima's in competition with the school. Akiko's too pretty for her own good. Tendou senses a trap. Yamagata gets ambushed by the cheer squad again. And Satsuki's in on all the fun. I wanted all that delicious tension to coincide with the disciplinary committee's rising threat across campus. Now I can't wait to jump into the next chapter and see what Suzume and the gang have been up to this whole time. :D

"Sylvia Pizzicato" – Léo Delibes

"Orpheus in the Underworld: Can-Can" – Jacques Offenbach

"Keep Moving" – JUNGLE

Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I hope everyone is enjoying a wonderful summer so far.

Until next time,

lavendermoonmilk