Chapter Thirty-Five

Tendou had no idea what to expect as he raced across the school grounds with the entire team close behind him. The night air bit at their faces, contrasting starkly with the exhilaration that coursed through their veins. They were fresh and alive once more, rejuvenated, thanks to the most electrifying volleyball match of their lives.

The disciplinary committee had managed to escape the gymnasium, displaying a commendable effort as they dodged the flurry of volleyballs raining over their heads. Shirabu earned himself the title of most vicious opponent, serving with lightning speed to ensure the entire team had a fresh supply of ammunition. Tendou reveled in the chaos, pursuing Goro who, in his desperation, was reduced to feeling his way along the gym walls like a hapless character in a horror film. The satisfying pong! of the ball connecting with his face sent Tendou into a mad cackle. Others found themselves caught in the volleyball net, pleading for mercy from Semi and Kawanishi. Karin had no choice but to clear a path, mobilizing her crew into a somewhat clumsy dash into the courtyard, all the while vowing vengeance in the form of a scathing letter to their infamous head coach, Washijo.

"I'LL SEE YOU ALL ROT IN HELL!" She shrieked. "MARK MY WORDS!"

Several volleyballs were sent flying after her in response.

After that, the fate of the art club was no longer within their control. Tendou and his teammates could only watch feebly from the gym's doorway as a shadowy commotion unfolded in the studio. Akiko had abandoned her post at the window, preventing Ushijima from communicating from afar. The wait was agonizing, each passing minute feeling like an eternity. Ater fifteen excruciating minutes, Tendou finally decided it was safe enough to leave the gym and venture into the school building, determined to uncover the fate of the art club.

"Come on, let's go!" He ordered, steering them forward.

They cut through the cafeteria, finding the school completely dark and deserted. This late at night, only a handful of clubs were still working on decorations. Nearly everyone had retired to the dorms. Even so, faint light could be seen from the fourth floor, and as they raced up the stairwell, they were met by a confusing sight.

"Wait," rasped Tendou, forcing the others to stop at the threshold.

In the dimly lit hallway just outside the art studio, the disciplinary committee stood in a hushed, semi-circle, their faces a mixture of bewilderment and frustration. Frowning, Tendou angled his ear in the hopes of catching the last dregs of their conversation. He had to strain against his own heartbeat.

One of Goro's lieutenants broke the silence.

"Whelp, I'm just going to come out and say it. We're all thinking it," she said with a raise of her hands. "That had to be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen!"

"Tragic," agreed Goro who was still favoring his swollen face.

Karin was trailing behind them, her gaze lost in what could only be described as total defeat.

"I don't get it…When they said 'performance art', they really meant performance art."

"I thought Mika told you otherwise," said the other lieutenant with a frown. "When she came to you all those weeks ago. She said the art club was up to something dangerous."

"But she was there, center stage, playing the flute while the wizard committed ritual suicide. It was dangerous! It was a literary embolism!" cried the other girl. "My heart can't take it! Why? Why Zeldor? Why did you have to die like that? So innocent and pure!"

There was a rush of tears and much consoling around the girl. Goro peered back at Karin with a grimace.

"What do we do now, ma'am? Report them?"

Karin glared. "Report what? I didn't see any evidence to the contrary. Did you?"

Goro backed away cautiously. "Err…no, ma'am. I didn't."

"In the eyes of the school administration, we can't do anything more without verified proof. We can't get them on a 'literary embolism', Goro." She clenched her hands tightly into fists. "Damn you, Mika. You snake."

Goro gawked.

"M-ma'am! Th-th-that's a language violation!"

"Oh hush," snapped Karin. "I've had enough of this buffoonery. Disband. We're done for the evening. If you'll excuse me, I have a very long letter to write to Coach Washijo."

The disciplinary committee shuffled in defeat, disappearing into the shadowed stairwell.

Tendou narrowed his eyes as he quickly stitched their remarks together into a feeble vision of a theater production with Takashi Izakaya as its star. His voice sounded groggy to his own ears as he muttered, "Wait a minute…they're not talking about…"

Rushing into the studio, he was met by yet another extraordinary sight.

There on the worktable, Zeldor the Blue laid prone across its middle, his torso hanging halfway off the ledge with his grimoire clutched at his breast. His other arm hung limply with fingers fashioned delicately toward the floor. Dark, amber light engulfed him, catching at his blue hair and silk robes, his eyes closed into an expression of righteous sacrifice. All around him was a retinue of students holding buckets which they wielded like drums, Ryuunosuke Hara brandishing a violin while a girl to his right held a silver flute. Hanamura's paintings were flung all around the room, forming a jarring landscape of color and texture. The air smelled faintly of smoke. A thick cloud of fog traveled across the floor.

The scene was so jarring, Tendou and the others were momentarily speechless. That is, until a familiar fox poked her head out from underneath the table, breaking the spell.

"Well? Are they gone?" Asano whispered.

Izakaya lifted an eyelid.

"You son of a gun," Tendou said with a jackal grin. "You rascal! You had them all fooled!"

Upon their entrance, everyone crawled out from under the table, bursting into excited chatter.

"Takashi, that was amazing!" said Asano.

"Who knew the fairy boy had it in him?" agreed Ryu.

"Your arrangement was perfect!" Izakaya gushed with sparkles in his eyes. "You made me sound like I was in a movie!"

Mika stood triumphant with her flute, beaming wide.

"That was some fast thinking," Makoto was congratulating a coy-looking Isami. "I don't think there's any more we can teach you, Sasakura. You're a bona fide cheerleader now."

Hanamura surfaced from under the table, wincing from her bruised knees as she held onto Tashima who was laughing with delight. Her green eyes immediately found Tendou's in the crowd, and she greeted him with a wide smile.

It melted all the tightness in his chest.

"WAKATOSHI!" a voice belted in the room.

Akiko emerged from the crush of students, her face blotched with a rosy hue, her eyes seeking out one person in particular. Strands of red hair framed her face, and she was still grasping the table lamp from her sister's workstation. She didn't have to wait long for a rejoinder.

"AKIKO!"

To his surprise, Tendou felt the clap of a large hand on his shoulder, moving him aside. Ushijima strolled forward, his gaze equally alight and face flushed though his mouth was set into a stern scowl. He made directly for Akiko, catching her at the waist and tilting her back as she looped arms around his neck. The room went completely silent as the two embraced in a passionate kiss.

"What?"

In the wake of their sudden display of affection, a stunned silence enveloped the room before giving way to a cacophony of reactions. Whispers of amazement and surprise rippled throughout the room, punctuated by a few gasps and the sound of someone discreetly clearing their throat, making the unexpected moment a guaranteed focal point of school gossip for days to come.

It was Shirabu who stood gaping, his mouth moving noiselessly as he put two and two together. "Wait. B-but I thought…"

He glanced to the younger Asano who was regarding him with a sharp grin.

Tendou laughed. It was quite the experience to see so many different clubs coexisting in harmony. The studio had been completely transformed, and the people along with it. Cheerleaders were talking to the robotics engineers; the science club were rubbing elbows with the marching band. It was the most interesting thing Tendou had ever seen at school.

And at the heart of it was Hanamura. Like queen of the misfits, she materialized amid the crowd, slipping past bodies like a shadow. Her face was warm and soft as she gazed at him with that radiant smile. Without a word, she reached for his hand, and pulled him deeper into the room.

"Welcome to Operation Magpie."

Her paintings were removed, revealing all kinds of projects that had been kept hidden. Fukuhara adjusted the breaker box, filling the space with ample light once more. In one corner sat Izakaya's throwing wheel, but it had been retrofitted to mix a large vat of paint. In the opposite corner, Asano was leading a team of seamstresses to create black and white costumes. The canvas screen was a barrier shielding the welding gun from view as Rumi worked with a group of students who were put in charge of welding thick cable wire into a large, square lattice of triangles.

"How did you distract them?"

"A game of tsukuri. How did you trick them?"

"With a smoke screen."

They shared a grin, both tired but happy to be together and academically unscathed.

"Would you like to help us? We could use the extra hands," she said with a laugh.

"Anything," said Tendou, if it's for you.

. . . . . . . . .

Tendou watched as Hanamura worked closely with Tashima and the robotics team. It was a medical-grade procedure. They worked with extreme care and accuracy. The robotics team read out measurements which made Hanamura swap out the billet on her power drill each time she made an incision. Tashima steadied the bucket and checked off a square on her to-do list in the process.

He couldn't quite make sense of it all but was content to observe their work.

It was well past midnight when Tendou noticed Hanamura's eyes began to droop and her aim began to suffer. She was concentrating hard, the tip of her tongue peeking through her teeth, but the drill bit started to skirt across the plastic, leaving a groove. At first, it happened every so often, but as the night wore on, more and more buckets were left with scars. When she nearly put a third gash in the same bucket, Tendou stood and apprehended the drill.

"Alright, I think you've done enough."

Hanamura blinked, staring at him through her haze.

"No. I have to finish."

He shook his head. "No operating machinery under the influence, champ. You know the rules."

To this, Hanamura pulled a face, and it was the closest thing to a pout he'd ever seen. It warmed him up inside.

"He's right. At this rate, you'll destroy all the buckets we have left," said Tashima, coming to his defense. "This is the most critical part of the whole project. We can't afford to mess up."

Hanamura frowned. "Which is why we have to finish this tonight. Tashima, I'm the only one who knows how to operate this thing."

"No, you aren't," said Kazuki, holding his hand out to Tendou. "Give it here. I'll take care of the rest."

Hanamura and Tendou both stared at him in shock. Their astonishment caused him to draw back.

"D-Don't look so surprised!" He snapped. "I know my way around a tool shed, thank you very much! What do you take me for? A shut-in?"

"Yeah," said Hanamura.

"Exactly." Tendou nodded. "Took the words right out of my mouth."

Kazuki pried the power drill from his hand with a huff. "Ingrates."

"Get her out of here," ordered Tashima. "She hasn't slept in 36 hours. Knock her out – I don't care how. Just get her to sleep."

Tendou lit up at this. "With pleasure."

"Tashima!"

Hanamura turned beat red.

Tendou grabbed her by the shoulders and, turning her around, began steering her out of the room. She planted her heels into the floor. "Satori, I can't leave them!0=-"

"Yes, you can. Look," he urged her, speaking into her ear. "You've shown them the way, and now it's their turn. They got this. This is every bit theirs as it is yours. Even the leader should be able to step away and rest. You can trust them."

Sure enough, they watched as everyone in the studio worked diligently on their project.

This seemed to appease her for her heels stopped digging into the floor. Satisfied, Tendou corralled her from the room and into the darkened hall. Once outside, Hanamura sighed.

"I'm not even tired," she said petulantly.

Tendou grinned. He knew what she meant by that. She was keyed up, tense, just like he was right after a thrilling game. After experiencing such a powerful adrenaline rush, it was difficult to come down from it – no matter how physically tired he felt.

"I have an idea," he said, taking her by the hand.

They traveled the school, taking the stairs down to the second floor and crossing the hall to the library doors. Fishing around inside his pocket, he produced the chip of metal he snagged from the studio on their way out and worked the latch free. Door swinging open, he beckoned her inside.

Hanamura shuddered and quickly wrapped her arms around herself. "Brrr! It's cold in here."

Tendou unzipped his jacket and placed it over her shoulders. Walking into the lobby, he headed for the brown leather sofa toward the windows and took a seat. When Hanamura made no move to join him, he patted the spot next to him.

"C'mere."

She gave him a long, narrow look of suspicion. But eventually, her mouth betrayed her, and she broke into a wry grin. It was then that she threaded her arms through the sleeves of his jacket and, zipping it all the way up to her chin, breathed deeply. "Hmm, it's warm," she said with relish.

Tendou felt his heart flutter. This was yet another unexpected joy. The sight of her, swallowed up in an article of his clothing filled him with insatiable pride. It was more intimate than anything he had ever experienced. It left him momentarily stunned.

Hanamura padded across the carpet, climbing onto the couch only to lay down with her head resting against his thigh. Like that, she stared up into the ceiling and sighed.

"Try to relax," he encouraged her.

"I am relaxed."

She was stiff as a board.

"Suzume, the others know what to do. Kazuki can't butcher those buckets too bad…"

A thin whimper escaped her throat. "You're right. I shouldn't have let him–"

Tendou threw his arm over her, pinning her in place. "Nuh-uh. You're staying right here. Your mind is on fire, that's all. You need to let it cool off."

"How do I do that?"

"By thinking about other stuff."

Hanamura relinquished. "Okay," she said at last. "Okay. I'll try."

They fell silent.

"Suzume, can I ask–"

"NO! For the love of God, I am not spoiling the surprise!"

Reacting on impulse, she immediately sat up and poked his cheek in refusal.

Tendou snatched her hand, pressing a thumb into her warm palm as he rested it against his chest.

"Don't worry. I think it's safe to say you've had me beat on that score." He laughed softly. "No, I…I had another question in mind. Something I've been wanting to ask you."

Hanamura relaxed, peering up at him curiously. "Oh?"

Tendou felt his heart begin to pound inside his chest. He rubbed his fingers over the arm rest in thought, silent for a moment. Why did he suddenly feel so foolish?

"Erm…When we first met – that day outside the infirmary – you mentioned seeing me play before. I've always been curious about that." He remembered the friendliness in her tone of voice, as if they had been life-long friends. Gazing into her face, one he'd gone so familiar with over the past year, he asked, "Suzume, have we met before?"

Hanamura blinked. "Oh." Her cheeks turned a dark color. "Oh…that." She flushed, quickly turning her head to the side to avoid his gaze.

Tendou shifted on the couch. "That? What do you mean that?"

He watched as her blush went all the way to the tip of her ears.

"It was my first time in the city. My dad brought me to school for my interview with the principal. It was winter. I remember it being cold." She withdrew her hand, hugging the folds of his jacket tighter around her neck for warmth. "For nearly an hour, the principal tried talking me out of coming to Shiratorizawa. He had me convinced I wasn't smart enough to handle the challenge. When I came out of my meeting, I had this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. The principal must've taken one look at me and knew I couldn't measure up to the school's standards. My dad was so happy, but I was already planning on declining the scholarship." Her eyes clouded with pain. "I was going to turn it down."

Tendou felt a twisted knot in his stomach, understanding the full extent of Hanamura's struggle for the first time. He never realized it had begun long before failing grades and a fall-out with Mrs. Osakabe. To feel unwanted right from the onset was the worst premonition to bear. He took a breath, forming a curse directed at the principal that would land him in detention if anyone else heard.

"But then…I saw you," Hanamura confessed, meeting his gaze. "Just a small glimpse though a doorway, but it was enough." She smiled, revealing the dimple in her left cheek. "You were practicing in the gym. Just a scrimmage game among teammates. The way you moved though – you were so confident, so focused. It was then that I knew I needed to come here if only so that I might have the chance to meet you."

Tendou stared at her shocked, her words spinning inside his head with sudden vigor.

I've seen you play. You're really good!

Her smile. That bright sunburst, that sudden beam of warmth.

The reason she came to Shiratorizawa was because of him?

Tendou lost his composure, his neck, ears, and face set to a roasting broil. He leaned back against the sofa, covering his face with a hand. He was overcome with a bizarre feeling.

"Satori?" Hanamura stirred. "What is it? Have I said something wrong?"

"No! Don't look at me." He pushed her away, forcing her to look elsewhere. "I don't want you to see me like this!"

Hanamura pried his hand from her face.

"Why?" She argued. "Don't hide. It's okay! You can show me." Holding his hand in hers, she tilted her face, her eyes soft and reassuring as she whispered, "I enjoy seeing this side of you."

Tendou sank further into the sofa, feeling pinned to the spot with his own words used against him. The familiar itch to reach for his mask – a deflecting remark, a teasing comment, a humorous diversion of some kind to bring his guard back up – and yet an earnestness overcame him in that moment that demanded nothing but honesty. It pleaded with him to be genuine, however uncomfortable that might feel. It brought him back to the small boy who sat neglected in the shadows.

"It's stupid." He shook his head. "I just…When you…ever since we met," he paused, staring at their hands intertwined, "I can't help but wonder what price I'll have to pay for your kindness."

Hanamura sobered.

"You already have," she said with a slight frown. "A long time ago. When you were hurt, but you didn't let it stop you from being who you are. Satori…you have a way of seeing things others miss. You saw the pain I carried deep down inside and saved me from myself." Hanamura moved, sitting atop her legs to face him on the couch. She was suddenly very serious. "What if we experience pain because it shows us what's really important? And…having gone through that pain, we're more easily able to recognize it in others?"

"You call yourself a monster, but I wish you could see what I see. A monster is someone who's cold and unfeeling. You never let anyone feel ignored. You always have a way of tending to other's needs even at the cost of your own. You're good to your team, you're good to Ushijima, to Coach Washijo, to Satsuki. You're incredibly kind and…generous…and," Hanamura blew air through her cheeks, "good."

Love was pouring from her. He could hear it in the slight tremble of her voice, the brief gaps between her words, the way she stared at their hands with a furrowed brow. Even in the darkness of the library with the stars at her back, she had the moon shining in the lining of her skin. Such radiant light reaching and burning away his fear. It produced a deep, striking pain that came with the promise of release, and he reached out to her then, taking her gently, cradling her head and tucking her close like she was the most precious thing in the world.

"Thank you," he said, the words snagging on all the pieces of himself that were still broken and sharp.

Hanamura went still, but then, her arms wrapped around him, and she hugged him fiercely, crushing him to her with all her might. The pain intensified, but it was different from the pain he was accustomed to. This resonated from a place deep within that was beyond his comprehension. He felt a natural high, an intense joy. It was enough to let his guard down completely.

Tendou surrendered to her as she pulled back just far enough to leave featherlight kisses across his cheek and brow. Where words failed them, a deep knowing took over, and Hanamura filled the space with a safety and security that felt like home. A kiss was shared between them, but it was soft – far softer than any physical pact they had made to date – and it lingered like a promise between them.

"Tomorrow…when I go on stage…there's something there that's only meant for you," said Hanamura. "Will you look for it?"

He grinned. "Of course, I will."

Satisfied with his answer, Hanamura drew her legs across his lap and burrowed deep into the crook of his arm. There, she rested against him with a soft sigh of contentment. Tendou wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

"Can I ask you a question?" said Hanamura after a moment, her voice heavy with sleep.

"Sure."

"What was your first year like?"

"Did I ever tell you the story of how Wakatoshi and I first met?" She shook her head.

"No? Ah, this is a good one. Prepare yourself. It all involves a poorly timed bet, a volley cart, and an unsuspecting ace."

The night may have carried on for the others, but nestled together against a backdrop of library books, they were the only two people in the world.

A/N: This chapter could use a little more polish, but I am determined to finish this story! We have arrived at the concluding chapter of The Small Things which I have been carrying around in my head from the very beginning. Thank you so much for following this story and I hope you have a very Merry Christmas!

"Empty Crown" – Yas

"Without Me" – Gaga Symphony Orchestra

Until next time,

lavendermoonmilk