Chapter Thirty-Three
Tendou burst into the gym, sending the metal doors swinging on their hinges as he claimed sanctuary on the court. Collapsing onto his back, he gasped and groaned, his chest rising with each inhale only to be let out in a great rush.
"Bwuh."
After nearly an hour of leading Ryu and Chiyo astray – a task that proved more challenging than he ever thought possible – he abandoned the school for the boys' locker room, swapping jumpsuit for tracksuit, the last of his strength finally giving out as he laid under the cathedral-like beams of the gym.
There, he festered. He was simultaneously agitated, aroused, hungry, and delirious. A dangerous combination. Three days had gone by without a proper meal and he was starting to hallucinate. All he could think about was Hanamura. His mind filled with flowers. All the flowers in the world adorned her from the green amaranth of her eyes to the peach blossoms in her cheeks to the damask rose of her dark, red lips. He felt her whole body bend like the curve of a bow and conspired to pull the string tighter and tighter until she gave. What he hadn't expected was for her to fall at his feet.
You've gotten really really good at that, she gasped. Too good. I can't feel my legs.
Tendou covered his face.
So this is what it was like to taste someone else's pleasure – to watch someone come undone. The act had marked him with a terrible pleasure of his own and it shattered all restraint. He had slipped into a fever, chasing taste and touch until he craved her in more ways than he ever imagined. Sure, he was a little irked by her deception. A little distraught at finding her with enemies at her heels too. It would be a lie if he said punishment hadn't crossed his mind as he trapped her inside the broom closet.
Not a hero he had told her. He meant it.
Adrenaline surged through his veins as he pressed her against the wall. There, it was dangerous. There, it was only a matter of time before someone caught them and the game was forfeit and that looming probability sparked in him a ravenous wildfire. Tendou bound her hands and lifted her up onto her toes. Like this, he had the advantage. No thieving, no sneaking. Just the inevitable moment in which she surrendered and he had her secret at last.
But just as his most wicked desires panned out, rendering her immobile on the floor, she changed. His opponent could now take on the fairest form and fight back with the tenderest of advances.
I've missed you.
Groaning, Tendou shriveled in anguish. The one who did the surrendering was him.
He wasn't the only one. Several bodies were strewn across the court too, Ushijima the only one remaining in an upright position by the volley cart. He was more sullen than usual. The lack of regular meals was beginning to show in the dark circles under his eyes. Yamagata laid beside him, gnawing at his sweat towel. In fact, stomachs were growling ad nauseam, filling the gym with the sounds of a gaseous swamp or feet squelching through the mud. It was dreadful.
"Where do you suppose we go when we die?" Shirabu voiced aloud. He was staring at nothing in particular, his eyes flat and withdrawn. Reon cast him a fearful glance.
"Why do you ask?"
"It's just…I keep seeing things in the rafters. Have the death gods come to collect my soul?"
"Those are dust motes," said Reon.
"No." Their captain raised a hand, shaking his head. "No, the kid's got a point…I see them too."
Everyone stopped what they were doing to look up at the ceiling.
"Yo! Listen up, boys! There's been a small change in plans!" Saito announced as he strolled briskly into the gym. "I've come to relay an important message: Coach Washijo will be out this evening."
There was a loud scuffle inside the equipment room. Yunohama poked his head out from the shadows.
"Really? Is it true, sir?" He croaked. "Washijo's gone? Are you sure?"
He sounded so pitiful. Like a street urchin squatting in the dust and decay of a post-industrial coal mine. One that was manned entirely by children. Children battling consumption. That pitiful.
Saito stopped.
"Yunohama, have you been there all week? I thought you were…" He shook his head. "You know what? Never mind." Adjusting his glasses, he clapped his hands together. "Alright listen up! You'll be happy to know Washijo's received a call from his wife this afternoon who kindly reminded him it was their wedding anniversary and if he so much as thought about skipping dinner plans, she'd show him what true pain feels like."
The team held silent.
"So–" Saito took a breath "–this means you're all in the safety of my care until he returns."
Tendou grew alert. His senses sharpened. The tyrant was gone, leaving his benevolent right-hand man to govern in his place. This could only mean one thing. The only thing that mattered. They had an opening.
Lifting the hand that was covering his face, he cut his gaze to Reon and Jin, the Brutus and Cassius of this unholy Roman Senate. They were the only two who were semi-coherent. The others were largely unaffected by the news; Shirabu still babbling nonsense, Ushijima brooding, Yamagata eating his towel while the others scattered the court lifeless. Tendou made a deliberate show of scratching his nose and watched as the gesture resonated with the other two.
When the cat's away, the mice will play.
Oblivious, Saito pressed on. "This really goes without saying, but I've been asked to remind all of you – upon pain of death – that there are to be no shenanigans while he's away–"
"–or else," the team chorused on reflex.
"Or…or yeah…or else."
Saito took stock of their feeble positions on the floor.
"Look, I know this fasting and calisthenic training has put a real damper on things, but you've all borne it bravely. A lesser team would have revolted by now, but not you guys." He paused, staring at them all with open admiration. "This is a fine team, gentlemen. You should all be proud of yourselves. I know I am."
Tendou rose to his feet like Nosferatu. Jin and Reon followed suit. The others snapped out of their daze, sensing bloodlust in the air. It gathered around Tendou in sinister black flames.
"My, that's swell of you to say, Coach…mighty swell," he intoned, voice smooth and dark. Tendou curled an arm around Saito's shoulders, drawing him close. "You really don't have to stick around for this either, ya know. I'm sure you've got plans of your own. People to see, places to be."
"Well," said Saito, squinting an eye.
Reon stepped forward then, arms dangling at his sides. He broke into a grin, but days of malnutrition had turned it dry and brittle. His upper lip caught on his teeth, giving him an emaciated look. Saito retracted from it slightly. "We wouldn't be here if we weren't serious, Coach," said Reon. "We'll do a thousand pushups if it makes Washijo happy. Right guys?"
Kawanishi jolted.
"WHAT? Oh like hell we are–!" he began to protest. But Yamagata pounced on him unexpectedly, smothering him with his towel. The libero crouched down low, a crazed, bloodshot spark in his eyes as he whispered, "Shhhhhh. No talking. Time to go night-night."
Kawanishi thrashed, but Yamagata held on. The others watched their skirmish from afar, appearing baffled. Only when Tendou flashed his eyes did they realize a mutiny was underway. Semi and Shirabu sharpened their focus on Saito, their expressions morphing from confusion to cunning.
Shirabu sat up.
"A thousand pushups?" He scoffed. "That's child's play. Why not two thousand?"
"I raise it to three thousand," said Semi, lifting a hand as if bidding at auction.
"Four thousand," said Ushijima.
"Five thousand," Yamagata giggled.
Kawanishi started crying.
By now most of the volleyball team was on their feet, prowling towards their lieutenant coach with glazed-over eyes and rickety grins. Twilight spilled from the windows, bathing them in a lurid red light. Their shadows turned into warped, twisted specters on the floor.
"I…I appreciate the enthusiasm," Saito began, his gaze shifting warily as the team condensed all around him. He fixated most strongly on Shirabu who had the same vacant look he had from training camp. It was the look of a man who had nothing to lose. The whites of his eyes glowed.
"You can trust us," he whispered. "Let us take things from here, Coach."
Saito raised his hands and, laughing nervously, backed away from the team. He could sense the desperation in the air and that his life was at stake. Without the Demon Coach around, his safety was as good as null.
"I'll just uh…I'll leave it to you then," he acquiesced very quickly. "Don't work too hard now. You still have tomorrow, remember?"
"Yes sir," Tendou hissed with a curl of his lip. "Will do, sir."
The moment Saito exited the gym, Tendou pulled the doors shut with a loud clang. Spinning around on his heels, he dangled his prize for all to see.
"HAH! I got his gym keys!"
Shirabu came out of left field, announcing, "I GOT HIS WALLET!"
The others turned on him.
"What?"
"Kenjiro, no!"
"Why would you do that?"
He clutched the billfold, stooping with his shoulders hunched.
"We need vending machine money, don't we? I'm sure he's got a couple of bills we can use!"
"And do what? Write him an IOU?" Semi scolded him. "No, you're giving that back right now!"
He reached for the wallet, but Shirabu held onto it, snarling. A game of tug-o-war broke out between the setters, pushing them to the edge of their sanity. Tendou tried to intervene.
"Whoa, whoa, hey, knock it off! We're gonna open the snack cooler, alright? Cool your britches."
But it was too late. Ushijima already pried the thing open with his bare hands. The little combination lock snapped under the pressure, releasing several bags of orange slices out onto the floor. At that moment, all hell broke loose. The entire volleyball team lunged for the snacks, tearing the bags apart with their teeth and availing themselves with runny oranges. Yunohama bolted from his hiding spot to catch the banana that came sailing through the air, Kawanishi vacuuming almonds and raisins up off the floor with his mouth. For a while, it was a feeding frenzy. The cornucopia had spilled its riches, allowing them to dine like kings.
That is…until it hit them.
Tendou swallowed an orange slice whole, the rind scraping down his throat and bringing fresh tears to his eyes. It was the sixth in the span of ten seconds. Enough to break him free of his delirium. He stared at his hands covered in pulp. Then, to the others who were all gorging themselves with the same vacant look.
Had they sunk so low as to lick juice off the floor like beggars? Was this what their humanity had been reduced to in three short days? Lying, stealing, cheating…They were strangers to themselves and each other. Shame rippled through the gym as they filled their stomachs, crunching and slurping like a pack of rabid dogs.
"FREEZE! NOBODY MOVE!" Someone shouted. "YOU'RE BEING DETAINED BY ORDER OF THE DISCIPLINARY COMMITTEE. SECURE THE GYM!"
The doors were kicked open and several students wearing festival fatigues stormed inside. They each wore a whistle around their neck and blew them like sirens. The girl with the silver armband strolled in behind them, her vice-deputy close at her heels. They both drew to a halt, catching sight of the volleyball team in their state of complete and utter disgrace.
"What the–" The vice deputy dropped his whistle in shock.
Their captain turned around, his cheeks bulging with trail mix. "Waz duh meanin ahf dizz?"
The girl eyed him with disgust.
"On your feet, Captain." She ordered coolly. Rolling her jaw, she addressed the room. "This is a detainment. You're all under investigation for breaches in student conduct. The interrogation starts now. Anything you say can and will be used against you in court."
"By whose authority?"
She broke into a smile. "By mine."
The volleyball team shared an anxious glance. They were completely surrounded.
"Allow me to introduce myself. The name's Watanabe. Karin Watanabe," she said, flashing her silver armband for all to see. "I serve as President of the Disciplinary Committee, Head Executor of the Student Handbook, and Chief of Student Police, and I," she declared hotly, brushing passed their captain, "demand to speak to your manager AT ONCE!"
The team blinked.
"Oh uh…we don't have a manager," said Jin.
"But you're a sports team."
He shrugged his shoulders. "Washijo's against it. Says it would spoil us rotten."
Karin pursed her lips.
"Alright. I'll speak to your coach then."
"He's not here."
"Your lieutenant coach then."
"He's also gone."
Karin rolled her jaw again, becoming irate.
"Fine. I suppose you will do, Captain." She spun around to face him once more, sizing him up and down.
"I don't understand. Are we in some kind of trouble?"
"Is it because I stole the wallet?" said Shirabu.
Reon and Jin quickly yanked him behind them, throwing him sharp looks. But Karin remained indifferent, clasping hands behind her back with great prominence. Her vice-deputy watched her as she took to pacing the gym.
"I must say…in all my years of service this is quite a shock," she said, inspecting their impromptu picnic with a sneer. "The volleyball team has always been lauded as the best in the prefecture, a shining representation of our school, exemplary in every regard, and yet–" She stepped on a peanut, grinding it like a roach. "–behind closed doors you're not so regal, are you?"
She cut her gaze to Ushijima, daring him to respond.
Tendou stepped in.
"What do you want from us?" He growled. "Don't you have a party to poop on somewhere else?"
This earned him a round of nasty looks.
"You watch your mouth, Guess Monster!" warned the boy whom Tendou had evaded earlier. Goro was thrice as bold with his full retinue on hand. His deputies shadowed him on either side, both girls carrying detention booklets. "Insolence is a level two citation," he barked. "I'll have you scrubbing urinals before you can so much as blink, you good-for-nothing, two-faced, slippery–!"
"Goro," Karin intoned calmly, "it's quite alright. I'll entertain this little show of bravado." She eyed Tendou with a baleful grin, almost as if she had anticipated his rebuttal. The barb had not pricked her skin as he had hoped, leaving him slightly unnerved. He could sense she had a trump card up her sleeve.
That wasn't good.
"To answer your question, we're here to investigate a suspicious application received and approved by the Student Government Council." She held up the document in question, presenting it as an indictment with its bold red seal of approval. Turning to her vice-deputy, she gave him a nod. "Send him in."
At Goro's behest, two sentries blew their whistles, motioning from the doorway. Moments later, a nervous and flustered-looking Nishioka appeared with clipboard in hand.
"S-Special delivery for the volleyball club!" He announced in a stammer, leading several more committee members inside who were all carrying freight. They entered in a double-file line, two students carrying a box each. They were large and cumbersome. The volleyball team looked on with growing alarm.
"What is this?" Their captain demanded. "We didn't request any of this. Who sent you?"
Nishioka gave him an exasperated look. "It says right here 'six boxes shipped 2-day express from the Sendai Performing Arts Center is to be delivered to the boys' volleyball club.' It was signed for approval two weeks ago. I have the packing slip here."
Their captain snatched it with a scowl.
"'Twelve period-drama costumes loaned from the Wardrobe Department of Sendai City Ballet'…Reon, did you authorize this?" He asked, holding the paper aloft. His tone was accusatory.
Reon responded with a blank look, turning to Jin. "I thought you submitted our festival form."
Jin furrowed his brow. "No. I thought you did."
"Well, if it wasn't you two, then who–" their captain froze, turning very slowly to face Tendou.
"You son of a bitch," he growled. "YOU BASTARD!"
There were several gasps. Tendou barely had time to raise his hands in self-defense. Their captain charged him like a bull, his eyes glazed over with open fury. Crouching low onto his heels, he sprang into the air in a perfect spiking position. Ushijima and Reon leaped into the air as well, catching him just in time before his fist could collide with Tendou's jaw. A knuckle grazed his cheek.
"I should have known you'd pull something like this, YOU SNAKE!" Their captain spat angrily. "You've been planning this all along, haven't you?" He thrashed, trying to free himself from the bind Ushijima and Reon had him trapped in. "LET ME GO! Let me throttle him real good! C'mere, let – let me grab you!"
He swung his arms, reaching in vain for Tendou with fists coated in melted chocolate. Their captain had officially checked out, the pressure of the last few minutes finally overtaking him. His frantic display had everyone frozen on the spot, including Tendou who was gaping in amazement. It was Yunohama who crept forward and, very bravely, placed a thumb strategically on his jugular. The pressure had a numbing effect, bringing their captain to a drowsy seat on the floor. There, he blinked in confusion.
"Ah, that's better," said Yunohama, patting his shoulder.
The entire disciplinary committee focused their attention on Tendou.
"Care to explain?" Karin intoned sharply. "It says here you rented the entire wardrobe from the production of The Legend of The Cursed Youkai. You're a sports team, not a Kabuki troupe. Explain yourself!"
"Alright, alright, alright," said Tendou, trying to pacify everyone. "It's going to require some imagination – none of which you possess – but hear me out, okay?" The volleyball team shot him dark looks. Despite this, Tendou pressed on. "Given the fact that our culture festival falls on Halloween this year, I thought we could celebrate it with a little folklore."
He approached Nishioka, taking the liberty to rip one of the boxes open and pulling from it a brindled fur vest. He tossed it to Yamagata. "Imagine the delight on everyone's faces when they can learn how to receive a spike from Shiratorizawa's very own werewolf, or–" he pulled out a set of pleated white hakama and handed them to Ushijima "–learn to spike from a Shinigami! Perform a jump float serve from a Tengu." He passed a cape of inky-black feathers to Semi who studied it with mild interest. "Block a ball like a Kappa waiting in the waters." Yunohama was handed a decorative tortoiseshell next. It had leather straps much like a backpack.
Everyone watched as Tendou quickly opened the other boxes, revealing a dragon headdress with glittering green scales, a fox mask carved from wood with thin slitted eyes, demon horns, and – most glorious of all – a golden horsehair helmet which he gave to Shirabu.
"What's this supposed to be? A unicorn?" He asked, lifting a brow.
"A kirin."
Shirabu gripped the helmet, remaining unimpressed.
"Oh, come on! Think about it. We give the same workshop every year," said Tendou, "and frankly, it's getting old. Who's gonna remember a buncha dudes in jerseys when the gym's overrun by demons?" He threw his hands out, painting the scene for them all to see. "Think of the crowds it'll draw! The excitement! Everyone in a fifteen mile radius will be flocking here to do battle in the Devil's Lair. We'll run a fog machine, use glow-in-the-dark volleyballs, decorate the net in human carnage! Everyone will walk away with their very own shrunken head to commemorate their battle. They'll even be able to take pictures with our very own zombified Benkei!" He gestured grandly to Reon who fit the bill to perfection with his gaunt face and sunken eyes. "So there you have it, ladies and gentlemen. The volleyball club will be hosting our workshop this year as the cast from The Legend of the Cursed Youkai!"
Throwing an arm around Nishioka's shoulders, Tendou shot him a broad grin.
"Pretty clever, right?"
Karin turned to the rest of the team. "And…you're all on board with this?"
There was a unanimous and resounding, "NO!"
"Like hell we are!" added Kawanishi.
She seemed satisfied with this answer. "Hmm…I see. Well then, that's settled. Nishioka, have the boxes returned to the front desk at once. Forward an apology to the Performing Arts Center. We'll pretend this whole thing never happened." She took their festival form and ripped it in two, leaving Tendou with the pieces as she turned to their captain. "Principal Sato expects the boys' volleyball team to make a strong impression on the donors this year. Can I trust you to keep your player in line this weekend or shall I do it for you?"
He offered her a dazed look from the floor. "No," he said hoarsely, "I'll handle it."
He glared at Tendou as he spoke.
"Good. Then our work here is done." Glancing at the clock above the bleachers, she smirked. "Goro, rally the troops. It's time we pay a visit to the studio."
Her words halted Tendou in his tracks.
"Wait. You have business with the art club?"
"Oh, more than business," said Karin with a crack of her knuckles. "This won't be pretty, but then again public demonstrations never are. We plan on making an example of them in front of the entire school. It'll be quite the show."
Tendou blanched.
"Contrary to what others think, I'm a very patient woman," Karin professed as she smoothed the lapels of her jumpsuit. "I listen. I wait. I observe. You don't fall into this position without learning some fundamental truths about how the world works. For starters, mischief loves company." She paused, glancing at Tendou over her shoulder. "Isn't that right, Guess Monster?"
Tendou sensed several worried glances from his teammates and did everything he could to remain visibly neutral. His heart began to flood his chest with powerful tremors, and he broke out into a cold flush. The enemy was laying him bare.
Karin took to circling him.
"It was interesting to hear my subordinates intercepted you in the halls this afternoon. Apparently, you were fulfilling a detention given by Coach Washijo. Something to do with an ink cartridge spill," she said, her gaze lingering on the gunpowder residue still dusting his cheek. "I found this to be rather odd as Washijo's not known to dole out formal detentions. His methods are a bit more…Machiavellian."
Her lips flickered with approval.
"So…naturally, I had my lieutenant cross-examine Nishioka – the one whom you accused of wrongdoing – and in the middle of his interrogation, he let slip something quite illuminating."
Tendou glanced to Nishioka and found him sweltering on the spot, looking shamefaced.
"He said you failed to return your radio to the helpdesk this afternoon. He had to make several announcements over the school intercom to locate you, but you never turned up. His intent was to confirm his alibi, but in doing so, he revealed you were missing this afternoon." Karin paused directly in front of him, her eyes flickering with suspicion. "You heard my officers' dispatch, didn't you?"
Tendou narrowed his gaze.
"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. What's it to you?"
"It explains how you seemed to be at the right place at the right time. You were harboring a fugitive. This fugitive." She snapped her fingers and a manila envelope was placed in his hands. The flap was open, and several polaroids slipped out onto the floor. Tendou was distraught to find multiple snapshots of Hanamura in her bookworm disguise. They were all taken from a distance. Some were blurry, others were double-exposed, but they all had a familiar framing he recognized immediately.
As he gazed at the one of her eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich behind a bush, his heart sank.
"You had the yearbook photographer tail her."
Karin grinned.
"We've had our sights set on Suzume Hanamura for quite some time now. The girl's a problem. She's conniving, careless, messy – hoards trash. Her conduct is beneath our standards." Tendou curled his hands into fists as Karin continued to sneer. "Regardless of your feelings on the matter, she's a threat to the school."
He gritted his teeth.
"If you've known about her rule-breaking, why haven't you stepped until now?"
Karin's gaze flickered.
"Ah, now there's the million-dollar question." Her smile only continued to widen. "You of all people ought to know what it's like to win a game before it even starts. To know you've outmatched the opposition. To hold all the power in your hands." Her eyes sparkled with a fanatical gleam. "Scavenger Girl's merely the linchpin to a much greater pursuit." She held out her hand and Goro gave her a stack of student files bound together by a paperclip. She removed it, fanning the pages out to reveal several more class pictures. "Why trap one bird when I can take the whole nest?"
Tendou was overcome with dread. Staring back at him were the faces of several known conspirators in Hanamura's coup: Ryu, Kazane, Akiko…even the robotics team was among those compiled in her stack of wanted posters. The degree to which she had meticulously gathered evidence told him the art club was doomed from the start.
"Imagine it – the greatest sting operation of the century! Director of the marching band, captain of the cheer squad, chair of the festival committee, the science club teacher…all complicit in unauthorized school activities." Karin spoke in a faraway voice, making her proclamation with a grand sweep of her arms. This was her trump card, her grand plan. The truth of it twisted her smile into a mask of heinous delight. "Nearly half the school will be punished for insubordination. I'll go down in history as the greatest rule invoker of all time! They'll have a plaque made in my honor! Principal Sato shall forever rest in peace knowing Shiratorizawa's traditions live on indefinitely!"
The air of polite decorum gave way to a salacious gleam as she revealed her true nature. Karin Watanabe was someone who enjoyed making others bend to her will. She was a rule-mongering despot in the flesh, drawing pleasure from subjugating the school. She withdrew a detention booklet from her pocket, a leatherbound pad emblazed with her own initials, and Tendou knew she was serious.
"Now to deal the final blow. Suzume Hanamura thinks she has the whole school eating from the palm of her hand, but at the end of the day she's just a pawn," said Karin. "The Student Government Council approved a 'small performance piece with musical accompaniment' but I've received word from a very reliable source that the art club has been smuggling contraband for weeks."
She held Tendou's attention, watching to see if her words held any weight.
"You know something, don't you? What she's really up to?"
For the first time, Tendou was grateful he could answer her truthfully. "No. I don't."
Karin drew close.
"I find that hard to believe." She held his gaze. "If I had things my way, you'd be joining her and the rest of her lot in suspension. But–" she wrinkled her nose, her dislike evident in the disapproving glance she cast over him "–seeing as you've risen to sudden fame, the school expects its star athlete to make an appearance at the festival. The least I could do was make sure you didn't make a mockery of our event…or interfere with my work."
She tapped the detention booklet against her palm.
"So long, Guess Monster. You're precious Magpie Girl will find herself in the principal's office before the night is over. That I promise you." She snapped her fingers, and her retinue broke their formation around the volleyball team, coming to form a neat line behind her. "But take heart. I'm sure you can write her letters in juvenile detention." Strolling toward the doors, she lifted a hand in farewell. "Good evening."
A/N: Gosh guys, it's been a while. How are you? I took a small hiatus to get accustomed to a new job in a new city, and all that newness interfered with my writing. But I'm BACK BABY! Bringing you the critical climax of this story. How will the art club get out of this bind?
Karin was inspired by one of the antagonists in the Saddle Club series I grew up watching as a kid. Just pure snobbery. The cloying voice, the unadulterated privilege, the sweet malice. *chef's kiss*
"Into the Lair (Betrayal Part 1)" – Daniel Pemberton
"Iberian Fantasy" – Adam Goldsmith & Jeffery Leach
"The Chain" – Fleetwood Mac (Karaoke Version)
This chapter was split into two installments. I'm editing the second half which I'm really excited about so here's to the final arc of this story!
Until next time,
lavendermoonmilk