White Album 3 Alternative (Another Possibility)

by ElectronicBee8771

Twenty years after Haruki and Setsuna married, their son is a rising star of the theater world. With killer skills, confidence to match, and a devoted girlfriend, Kitahara Yujiro's happy future is all but guaranteed. But the red string of fate has other plans, and will tangle him in a web of forbidden romance and deception unlike anything he ever anticipated.

2. Part 2

CHAPTER 6: DOUBLE SECRET PROBATION

If anyone had ever wondered what Kitahara Setsuna would sound like if she'd sung classic Italian opera pieces like "Libiamo, ne' lieti calici," then all they had to do was listen to my sister, Akina. Like my mom, she'd always been a vocal force to be reckoned with, but after receiving formal training, Akina had become a world-class talent. After the curtains had come down on La traviata, she'd received a standing ovation and more flower bouquets than she'd been able to carry. But, shamefully, my thoughts had been occupied by something entirely petty and mundane during her transcendent performance: was I going to the fraternity party later, or not?

Damn it, I'll go, I thought, while staring at the newest entry in my phone's contact list: Touma Megumi, or "Fuk U it's Meg" as her entry was displayed on my contacts. I wondered if she'd thought about the ramifications of giving something like that to a prospective employer, but quickly realized that she didn't give two shits about future employment. In many ways, she was just like her mother.

She'd told me to call her when I was headed out, so I pressed the "Call" button and waiting for her to pick up. Several rings later, she hadn't picked up. The voicemail box was also full, so I couldn't leave a message. At this, I became annoyed, and considered just going over to Kazusa's place, instead. Our tryst had left me hungering for more. I couldn't deny that part of my inclination to party with Megumi had been motivated by my desire to indulge in more Kazusa without having to confront the fact that I was sleeping with a woman who'd probably helped change my diapers.

Still, the Phi Kappa Psi house was almost right across the street from the Pearce Mitchell condos where Kazusa now lived, so I reasoned that if I didn't have a reason to stay at the party, I wouldn't have to go far, anyway.

I'd never attended an American college fraternity party in my life, but I'd watched a lot of movies about them. Setsuna had always been something of an American classic film enthusiast. Her favorite highbrow film director was Stanley Kubrick, but one of her favorite films had always been the 1978 frat comedy classic, "Animal House," directed by John Landis. Her other favorite film was the 1981 sex comedy "Porky's." Basically, she was a dirty pervert, which is probably why I was one, as well.

Outside, the place met my expectations. Shirtless fraternity brothers in cargo shorts tossed back bottles of cheap swill on their patio, all the while chatting up scantily-clad women who were probably members of Chi Omega or some other popular sorority on campus.

"You twenty-one?" one of them demanded as I stepped across the threshold and into the dank, sweaty pulsating house.

"No," I said, only realizing a split-second later that I should have lied. I was still too Japanese.

"Sorry, buddy," he said, as he drew a large "X" on the back of my hand in permanent marker. I knew it meant I'd be denied alcohol. Fuck! I shook my head and entered anyway. If I wanted to drink, I'd have to go back to Chiaki's place. She, like any respectable celebrity, was almost certainly a raging alcoholic and probably had more liquor in her cabinets than food. If I were drunk, it would make dealing with her much easier.

In movies, it was always a trope that talking with people was easy and painless at parties like this, but in reality, that was impossible. The entire place was crushed with swaying bodies, and the pop-trance blasting over the speakers made conversation impossible. The entire place smelled of beer, sweat, piss, booze, and weed. I considered immediately leaving. At least I knew I'd be able to hear myself think at either Chiaki's or Kazusa's places. Of course, there was no possible way in hell I was going up to Saeko's door for any reason.

"Found you, dipshit!" Megumi shouted in my ear. She smashed her body into me while she grasped my arm.

I turned my head to look at her. It was hard to see in the luridness of the place, but she wore a way-too-short miniskirt, fishnets, and a halter top thin enough and tight enough that I could easily see her fully erect nipples poking my arm. "You didn't pick up when I called," I shouted back.

Megumi dragged me through the crowd to the stairwell going up to the second floor of the frathouse. One of the brothers was clearly there to prevent drunken idiots from wandering into the rooms upstairs, but he let us pass without a word.

"Anyway, I didn't pick up because I was taking a gigantic dump when you called," she said, once we'd reached a quieter spot.

"You could've called me back after that."

"Dude, I had an enormous dick made of shit stuck in my ass." She switched to overly-formal Japanese. "Please forgive me for not prioritizing you, Kitahara-sama. There was so much excrement that it brushed my bare skin and I strongly considered committing honorable suicide."

"Instead of slicing your belly open, please consider eating more vegetables, Touma-sama," I replied in exaggerated keigo to match hers.

"Don't say such disgusting things," she said, switching back to English.

"Like telling you to eat vegetables?"

"Exactly." She lifted my hand, glanced at the "X" mark drawn on it, and cackled. "Seriously? You couldn't just tell 'em you were twenty-one?"

"I'm not used to this," I sniffed, and snatched my hand back from her. "In any case, now I can't drink here, so I'm gonna leave."

"No, you're gonna smoke weed with me, first."

"That's forbidden on campus."

She doubled over in laughter. "You fucking FOB! Don't worry, we won't call the dean on you."

"Fine, whatever," I said, and let her take me into one of the open rooms on the second floor. It was clearly a coveted space, since it also opened directly into the house's balcony perched right over the patio. On the balcony was a mess of couches, ratty cushions, and a hammock, all occupied by partygoers drinking and smoking what I knew now to be marijuana. They'd set up a hookah to share, and took long, luxurious drags of strongly-flavored smoke like wastrels lounging around an opium den.

"Oh shit! Drum Major on deck!" one of them said. To my surprise, they all stood and offered clumsy approximations of salutes.

"Good, good," Megumi said, haughtily. "Get this man a blunt, and stop wasting time up here and go party. Who wants to lick my feet?"

"I do," nearly all said in unison, including the women.

She kicked off her sandals, sat down on the largest couch, and set her feet on the nearby ottoman. Someone handed me a smoldering joint. To my surprise and chagrin, her band thralls all kissed and slobbered over her bare feet before filing out. Soon, only we two were left on the balcony.

"I thought you were the dark lord of the band, not the dark lord of the frat," I said to her.

"Phi Psi is the band frat. So naturally I'm in charge, here. I use the GP as my footstool, but only when he's been nice to me."

"GP?"

"Their president. The 'Grand Penis.'"

"What does that make you? The Overschlong?"

"Bow before the Great Ballsack Dicks Imperator Cockaiser Cumbuckets," she said. "What are you waiting for, you lowly knave? Take a hit!"

With some trepidation, I brought the joint to my lips and cautiously inhaled. I'd smoked a few cigarettes in Japan, so I knew roughly what to expect as far as temperature and acridness. Still, the stuff tasted and smelled horrific. I coughed and sputtered, much to Megumi's amusement.

She patted the space next to her on the couch, and I sat on it. I passed the blunt to her, and she took a long drag that put my meager efforts to shame. Finally, she expelled a stinking cloud into the night air before stretching her legs and sighing in contentment.

"Definitely can't do that in Japan," she said.

"No, never," I said. "If you ever go back, you shouldn't mention using this, either."

"Aren't you theater geeks all into coke?"

"Maybe the real troupes are. I just did this in high school, is all."

"Did your professor girlfriend act with you?"

"Ex-girlfriend. She played Tamora, in 'Titus Andronicus.' As well as other roles over the years. We were in the drama club together all through high school. She outshone me many times."

"See? Meant for each other. It's disgusting how romantic you two are."

"You don't know the first thing about either of us."

"I know enough. Listen! I demand that you start fucking our prof, and stop fucking my mom."

"I've wanted Auntie Kazusa for a long time," I said. "So I really don't care what you want me to do. If you don't want us to be together, then maybe you should reconcile with her and convince her with your words."

"I would do anything for love, but I won't do that," she sang. Surprisingly, her singing voice was clear and steady, even though I could tell she was deliberately trying to sound awful.

"Okay, 'Meatloaf,'" I said and rose. "On that note, I think I'll head over to Auntie Kazusa's place now. Seeya."

"Chotto matte!" she said, grasping my wrist. As a world-class pianist, her fingers may as well have been made of iron. She pulled me back into my seat next to her. "What's your problem with our CS prof, anyway? It can't just be that she's a professor and we're all scrubs. After all you'll stick it in my mom, and you'll stick it in that Sennouchi Akira bitch, and they're both high-powered celebrities and shit."

"Why are you so invested in getting me back together with an ex?"

"Because I'm fuckin' horny, is why!"

"If you're horny, then find a boyfriend and stop hassling me."

"What if I'm into girls? What say you then, motherfucker?"

"I really don't care. Just don't stick your nose into my business. Unless you want to reconcile with Auntie Kazusa, in which case you can call me 'Dad.' Hah!" I cackled, despite how uncharacteristic it was for me to act this way.

"Gross!" she said, and hit me with a nearby, beer-stained pillow. She took another drag of the blunt, and then handed it to me. "Anyway, maybe I wanna fuck our prof, too. Maybe this is all a convoluted plan, worthy of a strategic genius like me, to get in a threesome with her!"

"There's that double-digit IQ at work," I said, before taking a drag. The blunt was basically finished at this point.

"Good!" Megumi smiled in approbation and patted my head. "You're finally showing me proper respect."

"Your 'genius' aside, just skip the middleman and go right for her, you know. Saeko told me she'd been curious about experimenting with girls."

"Aha! You called her by her first name! You're slipping!" Megumi curled herself into a ball in delight and giggled.

Fuck, I did. "So why don't you just find your own lover?"

"Because what I most like, more than anything else, is to watch," Megumi said. "And the more lovey-dovey the pair, the hotter it is."

"Just watch some porn. Or ecchi, if you're into that."

"Real life is much better. Especially if I know them personally, or better yet, like one or both of them. It's enough to drown everything else out."

"No wonder Sennouchi Akira was able to tie you up so easily."

"I had two fingers in my ass and my other hand practically all the way up my pussy. I couldn't resist," she said with a shrug. "So, why can't you just do me a solid and fuck your ex in front of me? As another woman, I promise you she's down for it."

I sighed and threw the remnants of the joint off the balcony. "Even if you ignore the fact that I'm not here to be used as fetish fuel for you, I'm still angry at her. She dumped me out of the blue before coming to the States. I'd have understood if she'd warned me it was coming, or even told me she wanted to break up, but she simply fled after a phone call. She even blocked my number right after. I can't help but think I offended her and she was getting back at me, somehow. Or that she enjoyed making me suffer."

Megumi grabbed my shirt collar and pulled me closer. "That just sounds like a lot of whining and self-pity. You're completely discounting her feelings, you enormous jerk. It sounds to me like she did you a favor and cut things off immediately, instead of stringing you along and making you think you had a chance at a long-distance relationship. Those never work!"

"You can't dictate how I feel," I said, grumpily.

"Then how about a proposal, instead?"

"I'm not interested, but you're gonna tell me anyway. Out with your bullshit."

She rose from the couch, turned to face me, and then ground a bare foot against my crotch. "Listen up! If you can get it together and truly reconcile with our professor, I'll take up the piano again and reconcile with my mom. But, you have to forgive her for real. No acting."

I could clearly see her sheer, white panties, and the bulge of her womanhood. An obvious, growing wet spot bloomed across the fabric. Under the pressure and softness of her foot, I was rock hard. Still, these were all cheap tricks for virgins. I inhabited a different world. "And just what exactly do I get out of this exercise in stupidity?"

"You turd burglar! Isn't it enough that you can move on from your pathetic resentment? Or that your precious 'Auntie Kazusa' will have me back to playing under her again?"

"Not really. I can tolerate a great amount of resentment, and Auntie Kazusa doesn't seem bothered as long as you're not dead in a ditch somewhere."

"Fucking men. Fine. If you succeed, I'll let you stick it anywhere you want," she said. Her hand went between her legs, and thumbed her panties aside. She slowly stuck two of her fingers into her moist slit and withdrew them. Then, she leaned forward and pressed her gleaming digits into my mouth.

I ran my tongue over and between them, enjoying the salty viscousness that was unique for every woman. Anyone who'd ever experienced cunnilingus also knew there was almost always a suggestion of urine as well—it was unavoidable, given female anatomy. But it wasn't a turn-off at all, combined with everything else. Megumi tasted and even smelled like Kazusa. So, irrational as I was under the influence of illegal substances and the musk of a woman, I nodded my head.

#

Studio 136 was one of the many spaces within the massive Roble Gymnasium, shared by the various performance groups within Stanford's theater department, as well as its elite collegiate athletics programs. And it was here that Chiaki had summoned me for the official start of my descent into madness and poverty, also known as acting for a living.

A liberal arts degree in theater, at least in America, had worse economic prospects all-around than even the much-derided BA in English. And things were likely much worse in Japan. But I'd chosen this path, even if I'd been in the throes of depression and agony. And even if my professor was a complete lunatic.

"What do you do with a BA in Theater?" Chiaki sang to us as she stepped into the studio.

What is my life going to be?

Four years of college and plenty of knowledge

Have earned me this useless degree

I can't pay the bills yet

Because I have no skills yet

The world is a big scary place

But somehow I can't shake

The feeling I might make

A difference

To the human race!

She clasped her hands to her chest as she sung the final bars, and bowed to all of us as she finished. Of course, everyone else clapped and cheered, save for me. After all, Chiaki had just attacked me personally.

"Holy shit! She's the real deal," Akina whispered to me excitedly as she clapped some more. My sister, though she'd chosen to minor in opera, was an economics major, and it had been a surprise to see her waiting in the studio, along with my RA, Morikawa Nicholas. We all sat in folding chairs in a rough semicircle, or at least, as much of a semicircle as three people could form. A fourth spot remained open.

"Thank you, thank you!" Chiaki said, bowing again. Like any performer, she was easily intoxicated by applause, whether from a mere two people or an audience of thousands. "I'm here all week!" She peered around the room, inscrutable. "Most of us are here, so let's start. The others can catch up whenever they arrive. Technically, this is a year-long advanced seminar. I honestly forget what course designation they gave it. Because it's not important! What's important is that from this point onward, you're all members of a new, hand-selected troupe I've just put together. Each person brings essential skills and talent to the table."

She pointed at Akina. "Your singing. Like Setsuna's, had she been given training beyond singing karaoke alone to self-medicate her loneliness. And you, Morikawa-kun," she pointed at Nick, "are the best director no one knows about at the moment. I'm also appointing you chairman of the troupe. You can take care of all the tedious bullshit I can't be bothered with." Finally, she smirked at me. "And you, well, I just think it's funny to watch you struggle. And comedy is the most important thing in the world."

I raised my hand.

"Yes, Yunyun?"

Peace was never an option, with her. "Isn't this far too small for a real troupe, Professor?"

"Edogawa Ranpo's 'The Red Chamber' has only two cast members, one of whom has exactly three lines," she retorted. "And it's one of the most well-regarded mystery plays in Japan. Neither the strength of a company, nor the quality of its works, is ever decided by size. Much like a penis, you know?"

"You really didn't have to say that last part, Professor," I deadpanned. "Now I'm feeling uncomfortable and wish to leave."

"You unfortunate little boy. I guess you'll just have to suck on mommy's titties for milk, because after I take your scholarship away, that's all you'll be able to afford to eat."

"Monster."

"Not in front of others, Yunyun!" she said, giving me a frantic blush as she squeezed her legs together.

I quickly relented. God, how I despised her.

She smirked again at me. "Obviously, the purpose of our troupe is to put on plays and shows. My goal is to have you all put on a performance of 'The Tempest' by Shakespeare, at the end of the year. But before we do that, we need money, exposure, and above all, money."

"Wouldn't the university just pay for it?" Akina asked. "God knows my family pays out the nose for us to come here."

"That only funds our use of the rehearsal space. Remember, part of your theater education is learning about how to make do with table scraps.'

"What do our current funds look like, Professor?" Nick asked.

"I have twenty American dollars and a scratch-off lottery ticket in my wallet," she said, cheerfully.

"Is it a winning ticket?" Nick asked.

"No."

"Then I assume you also have a plan to raise money?"

"I do," Chiaki said. "We do it the old-fashioned way. We sell our bodies to the rich and powerful!"

"I am not losing a kidney for this!" I growled.

"Oh relax," Chiaki said. "All you have to do is spend a night with the CEO of Kaiousha America."

"Professor," Akina said, "are you seriously talking about pimping my little brother out?"

"It would be the most expedient solution," Chiaki said. "What say you, Yunyun?"

I threw my hands up. "Will you stop calling me that? And how is any of what you asked a serious question? I'm not letting some old fart screw me for any reason. Not now, not ever."

"Really? Even if she's the one and only Kazaoka Mari?"

"Oh!" Akina covered her mouth in realization. "Her! Yuji, maybe you should reconsider, eh? Kazaoka's super hot! Didn't you see her modeling swimsuits in Kaiou Glamor a few months ago?"

"Not really," I said. "Anyway, the answer's a firm 'no.' Plus, I'm pretty sure prostitution's illegal in America."

Chiaki cackled. "Oh, Yunyun, did you think I was talking about Kazaoka Mari riding your cock? This was all metaphorical. She wants us to put on a performance for the Japanese ambassador when he visits here for the holidays. It'll give Kaiousha lots of prestige, plus if we do a good job, they'll agree to finance 'The Tempest' and take care of the promotion. That's the kind of deal no troupe can afford to turn down!"

"You know, you could have just said that directly, and saved us a lot of anxiety," I said, crossing my arms.

"But it was funnier to lead you on," Chiaki said, breaking out into laughter again.

"I feel like we're selling out before we've even put on our first show, but that's the reality of theater," Nick said, shrugging. "Have you chosen a piece, Professor?"

"They want a musical. And they want it performed in Japanese. Fortunately, one of the greatest musicals of all time has already undergone translation. And its themes still echo for those people downtrodden by our conservative, homophobic Japanese society."

"'Rent,' by Jonathan Larson," Nick said, smiling.

"Good catch! That's why you're the chairman," Chiaki said.

"Are you sure 'Rent' is a good idea, though? Remember who our audience is. A corporation and a high-ranking government official are the definition of 'conservative and homophobic.'"

"I chose it precisely because of that," Chiaki said, clearly patting herself on the back.

"Well, I'm the last person who can disagree," Nick said, shaking his head. "I assume we'll have to play double roles, unless there are more people hiding here."

"Yep," Chiaki said. "You'll be Collins and Mark."

"Ooh!" Akina said. "I want to be Joanne. I can be whoever else as well, but I want Joanne."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Chiaki said. "Yunyun, you're Collins and Benny. Meanwhile, I'll be Maureen and if needed, Mimi."

Despite my annoyance with Chiaki, I couldn't help but agree with her quick and accurate casting assignments. Her awareness of our strengths and our weaknesses on stage was almost preternatural. But still, she was leaving out one of the most critical roles; the second half of the relationship that was the heart of the show.

"Yunyun, why so silent?" Chiaki asked me.

"What do you mean?"

"I thought for sure you'd have some snarky comment about how 'Rent' was too overdone for someone of your acting caliber."

I shook my head. "An actor's job isn't to whine about the script he's given. His job is to play the role he's assigned. But I do have some issues, though. We still don't have anyone to play Angel. Not to mention we have no one to spare for the extras and bit parts. Also, 'Rent' demands excellent music, and it had better be live. Do we have a pit orchestra at all?"

"Yeah," Akina said, frowning. "That'll be a big issue. The SSO's fully booked out until the end of the year. They even whined endlessly about having to play in La traviata."

She was, of course, talking about the world-renowned Stanford Symphony Orchestra, which regularly played on the world's most prestigious stages, and had even accompanied Touma Kazusa for a few of her concertos. Getting them to play for a tiny troupe like ours, with no money and no recognition, was impossible.

"We don't need 'em," Chiaki said. "I reserved another group for our exclusive use. They have quite a few people to spare, so, those who don't play music will be used for the bit parts."

"How did you swing that?" Akina asked.

"It was easy. They've been banned from thirteen American states, sixty college campuses, and four countries, and instead of bowing down and apologizing to the university administration, they turned the Quad into an orgy and tossed the used condoms into a bonfire set right in front of Memorial Church. In short, my kind of people!"

I frowned. That sounded suspiciously like… Oh no. Oh God no…

The entrance to Studio 136 flew open, as if it had been kicked by someone intent on taking the door of its hinges. Touma Megumi stormed in, apoplectic with rage, marched up to Chiaki, and shook an official-looking document at her face.

"Sennouchi Akira! What is the meaning of this bullshit?" Megumi shouted.

Chiaki grinned. "Miss Touma, the seminar started almost a half hour ago. As your professor, I'd appreciate it if you were on time for future sessions, okay?"

"D-did you not just listen to a word I said?" Megumi fumed. "Fuck it! I don't care! Just tell the University you're calling it all off, and we're even!"

"I can't do that," Chiaki said, shaking her head. "See, we booked you guys for all our upcoming shows plus rehearsals, and we also need your people for duty as extras as well as backstage work. I simply can't find another group in a hurry like that."

"We're a marching band, you dumbass!" Megumi said, grinding her forehead against Chiaki's. "We're not a…a pit orchestra, and we're definitely not actors or stagehands! And you can't monopolize all of our time, either! Football season's coming up! We have to play at their games!"

"Oh?" Chiaki said. "Playing at football games? Sorry, but that simply won't happen this year. The University's about to strip the band of its charter. Once that happens, they'll raze your vomit-streaked trailer outside of Encina Hall to the ground. You'll have no home, and in America, homelessness means death!"

"They can't!" Megumi growled. "We're on probation, I know that! But our charter's not in any danger! We haven't done anything wrong!"

"Cut the crap. The dean showed me your disciplinary files. Who dumped a whole truckload of Fizzies into the swim meet? Who delivered the medical school cadavers to the alumni dinner? Every Halloween, the trees are filled with underwear. Every spring, the toilets explode." Chiaki fished out a pair of glasses and put them on her face, fixing Megumi a stern, professorial look. "This year, it's different. This year, they're grabbing the bull by the balls and kicking those band punks off campus. As of this moment," she said, with a sweeping gesture of her hand, "the band is on double-secret probation."

Megumi's jaw dropped. "What the fuck is 'double secret probation?'"

"There is a little-known codicil in the Stanford University constitution, which gives the dean unlimited power to preserve order, in times of campus emergency." Chiaki caressed Megumi's chin and lifted it so their gazes met. "But it just so happened that the dean owes me a favor, so I asked for him to grant me exclusive rights to use of the LSJUMB. Cooperating with me is the only way to save the charter, and your precious Band Shak. The time has come for someone to put her foot down. And that foot…is me."

Megumi inhaled, sharply, and let out a ragged breath. I felt too sorry for her, in that moment, to tell her that Chiaki had done nothing but troll her by acting out a scene from "Animal House." How she'd delivered that last line with a straight face, however…that just proved she was a world-class actress.

"Fine," Megumi said. Tears fell from the corners of her eyes and she clenched her jaw. "We'll do…do whatever you want. I have to protect them, after all."

The door opened again. And the last person I'd expected in the world walked straight in.

"Sorry I'm late!" Saeko said, a guilty smile on her face as she waved to the group. "The department chair said he needed five minutes, and that turned into thirty minutes, and…" Our eyes met. And this time, she turned bright pink.

"No sweat!" Chiaki said, and gave Saeko a friendly embrace. "Just glad you could make it! Everyone, this is Iizuka-sensei, if you don't know her already. She's the missing member of our little troupe! Oh, Sacchan, I was just telling them, we're going to do 'Rent,' followed by 'The Tempest,' of course. Oh, and you're going to be playing Angel!"

Saeko turned even redder. "Wha-wha-what? You mean on stage? But I just said I'd do some backstage work! I didn't agree to play a role! That's not a part of my life anymore…" she glanced at me and quickly looked away.

"Yuji-kun will be playing Tom Collins, by the way," Chiaki said. "Your relationship is the heart of the entire musical. I really look forward to seeing the chemistry, you know?"

"I can't!" Saeko said, covering her face with her hands. "Sorry! I'm really sorry, but I can't!" She started to turn away. "I need to step out…"

"Hey, Prof," Megumi said, and clapped a hand on Saeko's shoulder. "I don't wanna be here either, you know? This is gonna suck balls and that pervy she-devil Sennouchi Akira is gonna run us ragged. But if you're here with us, maybe we'll all have an easier time, and even have some fun. To be honest, I kinda fell in love with you on the first day of our class, when you told all those incels to pound sand. And when I say 'love' I mean the kind that involves fingers and tongues in holes, just so we're clear."

Saeko's lips parted and her eyes widened.

Megumi leaned in closer to her ear and spoke softly. "But I also like Yuji, if only a bit. I know he's your ex. I told him he could stick it anywhere he wanted if he could man up and be less of a turd to you. I like to see people forgive each other even if they've hurt each other badly. That's a fetish of mine. So can you do me a solid, Prof? I'll make sure I drag his ass to class and office hours, whatever you want. And I'll also make sure these stupid shows have the best fucking musical accompaniment in history."

Saeko inhaled deeply, and found her footing. For a while, she was silent. Then, she gently took Megumi's hands and squeezed them. "I think I remember you from class. Meg Touma, right? How did you ever get into this school? You're extremely stupid."

Megumi grinned. "I know I'm dumb, but I can make music like no one else."

Saeko smiled, gently. "Then I look forward to hearing it. Fine. I'll stay. I'll act again."

"And with that, we have our full troupe," Chiaki said, triumphantly. "Together, we are Gekidan Jormungandr. The world serpent, who encircles Midgard and will bring about Ragnarok. The primordial ouroboros, eating our own tail, for everything comes full circle in the end. And, finally, nice job, Megumin!"

Chiaki flashed a goofy "thumbs up!" at Megumi.

Megumi promptly pointed an outstretched palm at Chiaki and shouted: "Explosion!"

CHAPTER 7: A WESTERN PROBLEM

"We have no time to lose," Chiaki said. With a flick of her wrist, she effortlessly deflected Megumi's explosion spell into the great ethereal plane. "Three months may seem like a lot, but in the world of theater, it's a pittance. Ideally, they'd have given us a year to prepare, but showbiz simply don't work that way. Nick, I'm trusting you to make revisions to the script to account for double roles, and to shorten the overall length to ninety minutes tops. Can you do that within a week?"

"You're asking quite a lot, Professor," Nick said, stroking his chin.

"How about a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue?" Chiaki offered.

"Make it a Macallan Twenty-One," Nick said, smugly.

"Deal, you greedy man," Chiaki said, and shook his hand. Then, she pulled up one of the folding chairs and sat down, completing our circle.

"As for the rest of you," she continued, "start familiarizing yourselves with the musical. Read the various versions of the script that currently exist. Watch recordings of past live performances as well as the various movie adaptations. It's helpful to draw inspiration from others, but don't simply ape what you see on screen. And if you can, think about similar situations you've encountered in your own lives." She leered at all of us. "Who here has had sex before?"

"Professor, that's highly inappropriate," I deadpanned again. "Do I need to speak to the Dean of Academic Affairs?"

"Do I need to ruin your family's finances?" Chiaki replied, cheerily. "The reason I asked is because 'Rent' is, ultimately, about relationships between people. Queer people, straight people, and people who don't fit neatly in any category. But regardless of your sex or gender orientation, nearly all of us like fucking. Actually, 'Rent' mostly ignores asexual or aromantic people, but that's a discussion we simply don't have time to engage in."

"As opposed to being a huge pervert masquerading as a respectable professor," I said.

"Yuji, if you want me to be less pervy, then don't make me so horny during class. I'll let you do what you want later, okay?"

I caught a death glare from Megumi in my peripheral vision. I decided to stand down for the moment.

"Seriously, who's done it before?" Chiaki asked. She raised her hand.

Nick shrugged and raised his hand. I did next, followed by Saeko. To my surprise, neither Akina nor Megumi raised theirs.

"Akina?" I asked. "Didn't you have a boyfriend in your senior year of high school?"

"I did," she said, with a wistful smile. "He was great, and if I come back to Japan I might hunt him down and marry him. I simply told him that I wasn't ready for sex, and he respected my wishes."

"Hey, Yunyun," Megumi said. "Aren't you gonna ask me why, despite being a real-life dark lord of the night and a world-class beauty with modeling agencies begging to photograph my feet, I'm still a virgin?"

I shrugged. "Not really. I just assumed no one would put up with your shit."

"You cur!" she snarled.

"Aha!" Chiaki said, and clapped her hands. "It's always good to have a variety of backgrounds and life experiences in a company. Many people ask how they can effectively act out something they have limited or no prior experience with. The answer is that you learn about it from others through earnest and respectful discussion. Going forward, I want you all to be open with each other. Expect the truth, and be willing to reciprocate in turn. That's the foundation of a troupe's success." She stood and stretched. "For the remaining time we have, why don't we do some quick etudes?"

My cheeks reddened at the memory of what happened the last time I did an etude with Chiaki. She was probably the most inappropriate educator I'd ever encountered in my life.

"Can we go first?" Akina said, gesturing to Nick.

"Sure," Chiaki said. "What's the scene?"

"She's a hard-boiled government agent, loyal to a fault," Nick said. "I'm a shady mercenary who's been tasked with bringing her a captured government asset. I've decided to betray her at the last moment."

At this, they both stood and exited the semicircle.

Nick's posture and demeanor immediately changed. He wasn't a third year RA in the theater troupe anymore. He was a mercenary with the blood of hundreds, if not thousands on his hands. The kind of man who'd break someone's neck like it was a chore no more significant than scrubbing the toilet. He'd been wounded in a tremendous firefight only moments before. His painful limp and ragged breathing told me more than any exposition would have. In his arms was an unconscious woman. He'd been tasked with delivering her to the government for a large sum of money. All he had to do was comply, but not this time…

Akina stepped out of the tram that Nick plodded towards. In her hands, a large-caliber pistol aimed straight at his head. She was a life-long agent. Cold, calculating, and a master manipulator. She'd also ended countless lives, and would brook no disloyalty.

"V!" Akina commanded, with a wave of her pistol. "Put her down and step away."

Nick bit his lip, resignation and rage battling for supremacy across his features. "Reed. I knew you'd be here. Fine. Don't shoot. I'm putting her down."

Slowly and carefully, he laid his precious cargo on the floor, making sure to shield her head from tapping the cold concrete. As he stepped away, he subtly reached for the revolver tucked into the small of his back.

"Turn around and walk away," Akina commanded. "You'll be paid well for this. Our business is concluded."

"She's dying, Reed," Nick said. "I need to send her to the moon. It's her only chance to survive."

"You're wrong," Akina said, simmering with conviction. "I'm the only one who can help her. I've been by her side for most of her life."

"Your people will destroy her memories and turn her into a vegetable," Nick growled. "How is that helping her?"

"You have five seconds before I put a bullet in you," Akina said, leveling her gun. "I like you, man. So I'm giving you a chance. Walk away. Get paid. Survive. I won't ask again."

"Damn you, Reed!" Nick shouted, and drew his gun. He fired a round into Akina's chest as she fired a round into his belly. They both collapsed to their knees. She lifted her gun, tried to fire another round into his head, but looked on in disappointment as her weapon jammed. Then, she promptly slumped over and died.

Nick, on his knees, coughed and gagged in agony. "Sorry, So-Mi. Now let's get you on your way…"

"Well done, you two," Chiaki said. "The tension was palpable, and you did an excellent job with evoking the explosive brutality of a gunfight, despite having no props or squibs."

"I love Idris Elba," Akina said, chuckling as she rose from the ground with Nick's help.

"Yuji, let's do a quick scene together," Chiaki said. "You're a career criminal about to pull off the most dangerous heist of his life. I'm the workaholic cop who's dedicated all his time to pursuing you, at the expense of everything else. We're at a coffee shop, on neutral ground."

"Got it," I said, and pulled my chair over to face Chiaki, who'd sat down. Even though there was no table or coffee between us, I only had to imagine it.

Chiaki lit an imaginary cigarette, took a long drag, and knocked the ashes into her coffee cup. The bags under her eyes from sleepless nights spent accumulating evidence against me contrasted with the tension stored in her frame, ready to spring the moment I made a false move.

"Seven years in San Quentin. In the hole for three. McNeil before that," she said, rattling off my prior sentences. "Was McNeil as tough as they say?"

"Yeah. You lookin' to become a penologist?" I said with a shrug. The steel frame of my pistol dug into my side, urging me to empty a magazine into this cop's face.

"You lookin' to go back?" Chiaki asked. "I chased some crews. The guys were lookin' to fuck up and get busted back."

"You must've worked some dipshit crews."

"I worked all kinds."

I crossed my arms. "You see me doing thrill-seeker liquor store holdups with a 'Born to Lose' tattoo on my chest?"

"No, I do not."

"Right. And I'm never going back." My side ached even more. Kill this cop and be free, was a thought I worked had to suppress.

She fixed me with a lethal stare. "Then don't take down scores."

"I do what I do best. I take scores. You do what you do best trying to take down guys like me."

Chiaki's gaze flickered around the crowded cafe, full of ordinary folk enjoying their humdrum existences free of violence. And free of excitement. "You never wanted a normal-type life?"

"What the fuck is that?" I asked. "Barbecues and ball games?"

"That's part of it."

"That's nice. That your life?"

"No. My wife spends half her time on the couch. My stepdaughter's got problems 'cause her real father's a world-class asshole. And every moment I got, I'm chasing guys like you."

I sighed. "A man told me once. 'You wanna make moves? Don't keep anything in your life that you're not willing to walk out on in thirty seconds flat if you feel the heat around the corner.' So if you're chasing me, and you gotta move when I move, how do you expect to keep a family?"

Chiaki smirked. "What are you, a monk?"

"No. I got a woman."

"And if you spot me around the corner, you gonna walk out on her? Leave her flat? Like that? Not even say goodbye?"

"That's the discipline."

"What you're left with is pretty empty."

"Yeah? Then maybe you and me, we should both go do somethin' else, pal."

Chiaki shook her head. "I…don't know how to do anything else."

I clenched my jaw. "Neither do I."

She looked up. "And I don't much want to."

I met her gaze. For a brief, lovely and unattainable moment, my resolve to kill my pursuer waned. "Neither do I."

As we concluded our scene, the others clapped.

"Nice one, Yuji-kun," Chiaki said. "I really love playing opposite sex characters, especially older men with lots of regrets. They won't let me do it in movies, but that's the beauty of stage—you can do whatever the hell you want! And finally, why don't we induct Megumi into our world with a quick scene?"

"I'm not an actor," Megumi said, crossing her arms and turning her head. "You just enslaved me to do music and backstage stuff. Besides, I have no idea how you freaks do any of this. I'm not gonna embarrass myself for your amusement."

"You don't want to do a scene with Iizuka-sensei?" Chiaki asked. "Sacchan is highly skilled! She won't let you embarrass yourself."

"Sacchan…" Megumi whispered, and blushed.

Saeko gave her an indulgent, gentle smile and reached over. "Since we apparently convinced each other to stay here, we owe each other support, no?"

"But I suck!" Megumi said. "I've never done this shit before!"

"Everyone here was a beginner at first," Saeko said, squeezing Megumi's hand. "And it'll help you to arrange our music a little better if you understand what's happening on stage, okay?"

Megumi pouted. "Okay…fine. But don't expect me to memorize any lines or stuff."

"It's fine," Saeko said. "This is all improvised, anyway. What's your favorite type of book? Or film? You seem like you'd be into horror, or maybe period dramas."

"I like…crime and gangster stuff," Megumi said. "You know, yakuza shit, with a lot of deep romance between the guys."

"How about this, then? You're a low-level thug who's just messed up a job to avoid harming innocents. You've come to me, one of the corrupt family lieutenants, to ask for permission to speak to the boss and get expelled. And you won't take no for an answer, despite how powerless you are."

"But what did I actually do?" Megumi asked. "What's my background? Can I take you in a fight?"

Saeko laughed. "Don't worry about that stuff. This is about going with the flow. Think about your motivations and make the details up as you go along. Don't overthink things, okay? And it's okay to speak like you normally would, since this is your first time."

Megumi nodded. "Fine. Just don't expect anything crazy good."

With that, she nervously glanced around, and then walked up to Megumi and gave a passable yakuza-style bow with her hands on her knees. Then, she fell silent, not knowing what to say.

"So," Saeko said, in a menacing, basso voice. "You want out of the family?" In a mere moment, she was no longer my beautiful ex-girlfriend and professor. Now, she was a powerfully-built career yakuza officer in his fifties, with burly, scarred hands that had seen their share of bloodshed, and a mind full of pettiness and constant vigilance against betrayal. For his entire life, he'd gotten his way by inflicting pain and fear on those he deemed lesser than him. Anyone who got in the way of his self-enrichment was just a target for disposal.

"Uh…" Megumi said, taken aback. She swallowed. "That…that's right. I came to ask the boss to, um, expel me. P-please let me through to see him, okay?"

Saeko snorted. "That's a shame. Saturday at eight's a bad time. His favorite show's on TV. If you have something to say, say it to me instead."

Megumi was silent.

"Cheeky fuck," Saeko said. "Your pinky's still on your goddamned hand. You have nothing to offer us? That's not how things work in the yakuza, dumbass!

Megumi balled her hands into fists. I could tell she was shaking. Saeko had always been a talent to match mine. And if her performance was enough to make me fear her, then there was no question of what it was doing to Megumi.

"I-I'm not here to t-talk with you," Megumi peeped. "Where's the boss?"

"I'm the one handling things here. Do you think that tone is gonna fly with me, junior?" Saeko rose from her seat, calmly walked up to Megumi, and gave her a brutal, simulated uppercut right to the belly.

Megumi flinched and stumbled back, even though Saeko hadn't touched her.

"No pinky, no cash." Saeko scoffed. "You seriously think you can just walk in here and ask to be let go?" She drew her fist back, which made Megumi cower. "The yakuza's not some after-school club you can just quit when you get tired of it, you little shit!" She lowered her fist, and instead leaned in to speak softly in Megumi's ear. "Use your head. It's not too late to put this all behind us. Pump the captain for information on the Empty Lot. That's the only way you come out of his alive."

Megumi forced her words out, though they were no more than squeaks. "C-can I please see the boss now? I came here to get expelled."

"So that's how it is," Saeko said, gruffly. "Then we're done here. I have no use left for you. Kitahara! Erase this trash."

"W-wait," Megumi said. Something had changed in her voice; she'd become indignant, possibly at mention of my name. "You can't just kill a member of the family without the boss's permission."

Saeko leered at her. "Family member? You're out of the family. You're just a civilian now. And no one will miss you."

Megumi got back on her feet. Her expression had changed. She was still wracked with fear, but there was something else present. "Did you just say…I'm a civilian now?"

"I did," Saeko said.

"Then…" Megumi grit her teeth and balled her fists again. "Then you don't outrank me anymore. I can kill you if I want to. Thank you, Lieutenant."

Saeko gave off a low chuckle. "Do what you want." She brought her hands together to signal a "time out" and almost immediately shed her yakuza officer persona like water rolling off her back. "And that's the scene."

Megumi's eyes widened and she bunched over, hugging herself. Her breaths were rapid and ragged, and she seemed to have trouble standing.

Saeko gently placed her hands on her shoulders and herded her back to her seat. "How do you feel?"

"Like…" Megumi swallowed on a dry throat. "That was kinda crazy. You like, turned into a fucking monster there. I thought I'd die for real!"

"That's very kind of you," Saeko said, with a gentle laugh. "But don't worry, we're back to real life now. It's important to be able to switch back, once the scene's over. Yuji was always a little slow with that. More importantly, did you like it? You seemed to be having fun at the end."

"It was…fine, I guess," Megumi said, as she sat back down. Her skin was still flush with goosebumps and she shook her foot, nervously. "I could act more with you, Prof…"

"Lucky for you, we're only giving non-critical feedback today," Chiaki said. "But you really weren't that terrible, Megumin!"

"I didn't ask for your opinion," Megumi spat.

"But that's what this silly university pays me to do!" Chiaki said, shrugging. "Anyway, we're out of time for class. You all have your assignments. And next time, everyone show up on time. Tootles!"

Megumi was the first to leave, and bolted out the door, followed by Chiaki, Nick, and Akina. As my sister left, she shot a glance at us.

"Sacchan, it's good to see you again," she said with a gentle smile. "Congratulations on your new job."

"Thank you, Akina-chan," Saeko said as she stood and bowed.

"Girl, this is America, no need for that," Akina said with a laugh. "Let's catch up later, seeya!" As she left, she flashed me a surreptitious thumbs-up.

Now, only Saeko and I were left in the empty rehearsal studio. For a moment, there was only silence.

"So," I began, "how'd she con you into this?"

Saeko shrugged. "Exactly like I said. She and I got to talking and hanging out with each other. Maybe it's just because we're both Japanese women in a foreign country, but I didn't expect an A-list actress to be so friendly and open…or so weird. But she's weird in a nice way. Kind of like you were when we first met."

"Sorry I was a strange kid," I said.

"But it was a good thing," Saeko said, and rested her hand on my forearm. "It made me feel safe around you. Probably why we got along so well as kids, no matter what kind of silly schemes you cooked up."

"We got into a lot of trouble," I said, smiling despite the tension inherent in sitting next to one's ex.

"Those were the best parts, though," she said. "Anyway, before long I was telling her my life story, including how we'd acted on stage in high school. When she said she was putting together a new troupe and hoping to put on a musical in December, I couldn't say 'no.' But I thought I'd just be doing some backstage stuff. You know, helping with costumes and the like. I didn't know she wanted me to play Angel."

"That's just how Chiaki—I mean, Sennouchi Akira—is. Honestly, she can't really be trusted. She's super manipulative and kind of mean, while at the same time putting up this annoying front like she's some kind of sleepy pet cat…"

"Yuji," Saeko interjected. "Are you really dating her?"

I cleared my throat. "What makes you think that?"

"She told me. She's very blunt on certain topics."

I couldn't blatantly lie to Saeko. Besides, we're not together anymore. I can sleep with whoever I want. I don't have to spare her feelings. "We're not dating, in the traditional sense. But…I've been sleeping with her."

Saeko bit her lip. "I'm glad. You deserve a woman like her. A beautiful, wealthy, world-famous actress who's super into you. I always knew you could do better than me."

"That's not true." I growled. My chest tightened and I clenched my jaw. "She's not better than you. If she cut things off, I'd be relieved. I wouldn't shed a single tear. I wouldn't…" I ran a hand through my hair. "I wouldn't upend my entire life's plans because she wasn't part of my future anymore."

"Yuji, I'm so sorry," Saeko said. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. "I hurt you, and I'll never forgive myself for that."

"You just did what you thought was right," I said, as I pressed the palm of my hand to one of my eyes, hoping to stem the flow or tears. I needed to leave.

"But I was so horribly wrong," she said, now crying in earnest. "I've never been so wrong about anything in my life. And of course it had to involve breaking your heart. Because I'm a complete mess of a human being. I'm sorry I asked to get back together. I don't deserve it."

"Saeko," I said, my voice breaking. "I don't know what to do. I don't know what I want anymore. I hate you, but I also love you. I'm completely fucked up."

"And I'm the one who did this to you," Saeko said, as she threw her arms around my neck. "I'm sorry, Yuji. I'm so, so sorry."

And for the first time since we'd actually broken up, I let myself cry for real. I hadn't even cried while watching her plane carry her away at the airport. Nor in the gray, monotone days that I'd spent locked in my room wasting away in the aftermath. Not even in the months up until now, in my moments of absolute solitude. When reality threatened to crush me, I'd simply agreed to disagree. But now, facing her again, and holding her again, I was powerless to resist. I could finally mourn the remains of my future.

#

By now, it was too late to drop any classes without either failing them outright, or taking an "Incomplete." Whether it was due to Kazusa's insistence, Megumi's badgering, Saeko's desire, or simply my own negligence in submitting the online form to drop the course, I was now stuck with "Introduction to Computing Principles" until the bitter end.

The next time I attended class, however, I noticed that the previously-packed auditorium within Gates Hall had shed a noticeable number of students. If Saeko minded at all, however, she didn't betray any inkling of it. She simply powered through her lecture on the application of topological analysis to the development of neural learning networks utilized in artificial intelligence problem solving. Strangely enough, I was able to follow most of it, since she'd previously lectured me at length about topology when showing me how to extricate stuck extension cords.

The other thing that I noticed, was that Megumi wasn't sleeping through class. She sat next to me, desperately jotting on her notepad, wide-eyed as she scanned over the slides that Saeko flipped through in rapid-fire. In any other context, she'd have passed for a model student, but based on the scribbles I glimpsed, she'd probably understood ten percent of the material, at best. Eventually, our hour of lecture ended, and Saeko left without giving me the opportunity to speak with her.

"Yuji…" Megumi whimpered. "I'm going to die."

"We're all going to die one day," I replied with a shrug.

"I meant soon, though." She grabbed at my sleeve. "Why is your ex so fucking smart? I didn't understand a word of what she was saying!"

I chuckled. "Have you ever encountered a situation where you needed to pull an extension cord through a tight space, but the plug head was too wide, and you thought you needed to cut the cord?"

"Uh…sure, but what does it have to do with this?"

"Everything," I said, sagely.

"Fuck you, buy me a coffee," Megumi said.

I patted her head. "There, there," I said, with a smirk.

Soon after, we both sat down at the small cafe outside of Gates Hall, where Megumi chugged the double-grande mocha caramel cream peppermint drizzle monstrosity of a drink she'd ordered and I'd paid for. The similarities to Auntie Kazusa were uncanny. In the meantime, I sipped my tiny espresso like a true man of culture.

"Ah, my sugar was definitely too low," Megumi said. She popped the lid off her empty cup and licked residual whipped cream off the inside. "Get me twenty more of these."

"When you get diabetes, you're going to lose all your toes, and I won't feel sorry at all," I retorted.

"That's a Western problem," she said, smugly.

"Japanese people get it, too."

"Well, I'm immune. In fact, I haven't gotten sick a day in my life."

"Is that a fact?"

"I also don't feel pain," she said. "I'm genetically different."

"Advanced diabetics also don't feel pain in their limbs," I said. "It's why they get infections and sepsis. Because they don't realize they've accumulated tiny wounds and let them get out of control."

"Don't bore me with plebian concerns! In any case, I could really use your notes."

"Fine," I said. "We're in the same troupe now, so I don't mind as much. If you continue to be good during class, I'll even help you study, if I have spare time."

"Our CS prof is a better actor than you are."

I nodded. "She is. She also teaches acting better than anyone I know, including Sennouchi Akira. You can learn a lot from Saeko, if you pay attention."

"Did you two fuck yet?"

"No, and we don't plan to. That part of our lives is over."

"Lame. Then you don't get any pussy from me."

"You said we needed to reconcile. I don't remember you saying we had to make love again."

"But that's like, proof that you've reconciled!"

I rubbed my forehead with my fingers. This was like dealing with a toddler. "You've never been in a real romantic relationship, have you?"

"Sure I have. I've dated like…" she scrunched up her face in thought, "ten guys."

"No, you haven't."

"Twenty."

"This isn't a silly numbers game," I said. "You have absolutely no idea what it's like to be in a supportive, respectful relationship with someone."

"Thirty guys! And a lot of chicks!"

"I need to get going," I said.

"Help me with this week's homework," she said, pulling my sleeve again.

"You should try it on your own, first, and then talk to me if you're still confused."

"Oh, come on! Be cool for once in your life, huh?"

"Say the magic word," I said, smugly.

Megumi fixed a death glare at me, but softly said it:"Please."

#

I should have seen it coming, given that she was the drum major of the LSJUMB, but it was still a surprise when Megumi sheepishly confessed that she'd been banned from every library on campus.

"For the record, I wasn't even in the band when they held the wet t-shirt contest in Meyer Library," she said. "And the twenty-four-hour fuck-a-thon in the Branner stacks raised like five thousand dollars for charity. We didn't keep a single penny."

"Does the band ever do, you know, normal activities?" I asked. "Things like cleaning sidewalks or delivering meals to the elderly or whatnot?"

"We did Meals on Wheels. We even had a few clients join the band. Then Gladys dislocated her artificial hip during a threesome…"

"Please, no more," I said, shushing her. "Let's think of something else. I'm reluctant to go to my dorm room, because I discovered something about my roommate that I'm repressing on purpose. How about your room? Where do you even live, anyway?"

"Enchanted Broccoli Forest," Megumi said.

"I've always wanted to visit there. I heard the brownies are pretty decent."

"But my room's a mess. Since the Band Shak got condemned, my room's where we've been storing our trophies and shit."

"Where do you even sleep, then?"

"People's couches," Megumi said. "Sometimes outside. California's great for that!"

"Jesus H Christ," I said. "No wonder you're struggling. If we're out of options, then I'll call Auntie Kazusa and ask if we can study there. Actually, why don't you just stay with your mother from now on?"

"Absolutely not!" Megumi said, and stomped her foot. "I'm not her fucking property! She'll just use it as an excuse to bitch at me about playing the piano again. Why don't we go to our CS Prof's place? I'd stay there forever if I could…"

"That's also a hard 'no,'" I said. "I don't need to explain why, especially to you."

"Why can't we just do this at Lakeside? Or Phi Psi?"

"Because a dining hall is a terrible idea. They're too loud and we'll never get any studying done. We need a quiet place, fit for living in. And no, a frat house isn't fit for living in."

"Then that leaves…" Megumi gave me a sidelong look.

I hung my head. "Our drama professor. The one and only Sennouchi Akira."

Megumi's features crinkled. "Ugh…"

"It's fine. She'll probably behave herself… Probably."

"Should you call her, first?"

"It's fine. I have keys. Hopefully she'll be out partying in San Francisco or something."

"Why do you have keys to her place, anyway?" Megumi asked, suspiciously. "Are you two are secretly dating or something?"

"She thinks of me as a combination of a pet and Pygmalion's statue. She's a complete weirdo and the sooner I can graduate and get out of here, the better." I'd given Megumi a non-answer, for sure, but hopefully it would suffice.

Luckily, my explanation seemed to satisfy her, and she accompanied me to Chiaki's condo. Out of force of habit, I first scanned the area for signs of Auntie Kazusa or Saeko. The last thing I needed was to cause more drama by entering my faculty advisor's house with Megumi in tow.

"Tadaima," I said, cautiously, as I entered. Initially, I was met with silence, and I slumped my shoulders in relief. Only to have Chiaki sashay into the entryway wearing nothing but an apron and high heels.

"Okaeri," Chiaki said, breathily. "Darling, would you like dinner? A bath? Or…" she stuck out her tongue playfully and shook her ass a bit. "…me?"

"None of the above," I said. "I'm just here to study a bit with Touma. We'll stay out of your way and leave before it gets too late."

"I can't believe my husband is bringing young college girls back to our house," Chiaki said, putting on the airs of a long-suffering spouse. "Why did things end up this way?"

Megumi harrumphed. "Because you're the most annoying woman on campus right now, and that includes my mother."

"You two should stay for dinner," Chiaki said.

"Why? Are you cooking or something?" I asked.

She laughed. "Of course not! I feel like pizza, though. You like Hawaiian?"

"Pineapple on pizza is a mortal sin," I replied. "I'll see how things go. Maybe I'll stay."

She sauntered up to me, winked at Megumi, and gave me a deep kiss with an overabundance of tongue. With her skill, she managed to provoke the normal reaction between my legs. "There'll be more of that later," she teased.

"We'll be in the kitchen," I said, and brushed past her.

Without meeting Megumi's gaze, I took out my notes and my laptop and placed them on the table. Megumi sat next to me, annoyance writ large on her face.

"I can't believe you're fucking her," Megumi said. "Do you seriously have some sort of teacher fetish?"

"Not really," I said. "Let's just get done what we need to get done. Okay, so here are the basics of topology…"

#

After a few hours of tutoring, I was glad to see Megumi start forming a loose understanding of the concepts Saeko had covered in her lecture. In truth, this hadn't been like any basic computer science class I'd ever encountered, but that was how things were done at Stanford. Introductory classes weren't there to teach actual skills. Their purpose was to identify geniuses and weed out normies. And Megumi and I were utter normies.

"Okay, I think that's probably all we can realistically cover today," I said, closing the thickly-bound class syllabus.

Megumi rested her forehead on her arms and groaned. "Why did I do this to myself?"

"Yeah, why did you? Aren't you supposedly here on a music scholarship?"

"A lot of the band is taking this class, too, so I thought I'd support them. Because I'm the best leader ever."

"Well, you can have pizza as your reward," I said. I'd heard Chiaki greet the deliveryman a few moments ago. "Hope you like pineapple and ham, because that's all she likes."

"Pizza! Pizza!" Megumi chanted, listlessly.

Despite my residual disdain for her, I reached over and ruffled Megumi's hair. Her tresses also felt exactly like Kazusa's. She made no effort to stop me. I considered continuing to stroke her hair, but resisted the urge.

"Alright, grab yer cocks and put on yer socks!" Chiaki said, as she tossed me a beer. She wasn't in her naked apron getup anymore, and now wore a sheer pink blouse and a tight pencil skirt complemented by lacy, silk stockings. "Dinner's in the living room."

"Thanks, Sensei," I said, and cracked open the can.

"Where's my beer?" Megumi said.

I handed my can to her. "For you, Dearest Leader."

"You're funny," Megumi said, and took a sip. "I'll execute you last."

For the next few hours, we reclined on Chiaki's expensive couches and gorged on Hawaiian pizza while downing a six pack of Tsingtao. She'd dug up a copy of the 2015 film version of "Rent" and played it for us, especially as Megumi hadn't ever seen the musical before. And while Chiaki and I viewed the film through the jaded lenses of professionals, Megumi was free to enjoy it as a civilian.

There was always one part that managed to make most viewers cry, however, and that was Angel's death and the funeral afterward. I'd been expecting Megumi to laugh or make a crass comment. Instead, her face was moist with tears as she sat on the edge of her seat, raptly following the film. As the credits rolled, Chiaki giggled.

"Megu-nyan, can I take a picture?" she said, and waved her phone. "You're super cute right now!"

Megumi wheeled on Chiaki. "I'll shove that phone up your ass if you do!"

"So, what do you think? Is this a good choice for a musical?"

"It's got its share of cheap tricks to tug at your heartstrings," Megumi said. She wiped her face in a vain attempt to erase the evidence. "And the music was strictly okay. I'll have to jazz it up a bit in a few sections."

"Sounds like you loved it," Chiaki cooed. "There's no shame in that. It's always been a favorite of mine, too. One of the first major Broadway productions to feature characters with HIV, you know. It was a huge deal in the nineties."

"I guess," Megumi said. "Isn't everyone on medication for that, these days?"

"Only in the last few years," Chiaki said. "For many years, you either took this drug called AZT, which had side effects worse than most diseases, or you died a lingering death from AIDS. You're a piano player—you know Liberace died from that, right?"

"Who the hell is Liberace?"

Chiaki's face fell. "Your bonus homework for class."

"You can't just assign extra work for no reason!"

"This bitch doesn't know about Liberace…" Chiaki sighed, and nestled her face against my neck. She ran her tongue up and down the line of my sternocleidomastoid and rubbed my thighs. I knew what was coming next. For all my protestations about how annoying she was, Chiaki was still one of the sexiest women in the world. And one of the most skilled in bed. I wanted her, and wanted some release after a long day of work. Chiaki threw a leg over to straddle me and started to lap at my ear. She undid the buttons on her blouse, exposing a lacy, black, open-tipped bra. I'd wondered why I could see her nipples poking through the fabric of her blouse all night.

"Sorry, Megumi," I said, extricating myself from Chiaki's embrace for a moment. "I'll see you out."

I'd expected her to make a snarky comment or look disgusted, but the expression on her face was anything but. Her lips were slightly parted, and her cheeks were flushed. One of her hands rested between her legs. "Can I watch?" she whispered.

"Let her, Yuji," Chiaki said, as she peeled my shirt off. Her fingers teased my nipples. "It'll be good for the show if she has more…experience."

"Whatever you want," I said, and turned my attention back to Chiaki.

She shuffled out of her blouse entirely, and stepped back off the couch. With a quick motion, she shuffled out of her skirt, exposing a pair of crotchless panties. It was clear that she'd been waiting for this all night. Her hands undid my fly and she yanked my pants and underwear down in a single motion. My erection stood naked and tall.

She squatted in front of me, and started to stroke my cock while she took my balls in her mouth and sucked. I tossed my head back in pleasure and tried to control my breathing so I wouldn't come quickly and embarrass myself.

Megumi had stripped down entirely, in the meantime. I looked over at her, struck again by her body's similarity to Kazusa's. She clearly didn't believe in dithering around, since she'd already thrust a pair of fingers into her pussy. It was hard to tell who her gaze was more focused on; Chiaki or me.

Chiaki rubbed her clitoris with her fingers as she swallowed my cock entirely. I let out a moan of pleasure as the back of her throat squeezed the head of my penis, and only by sheer willpower did I avoid ejaculating. Perhaps sensing that I was nearing my limit, Chiaki relented and spat my manhood out. "Lie down on your back," she said.

I followed her command, and she carefully proceeded to sit on my face. I stuck my tongue deep into her slit and rubbed my upper lip against her clitoris, while she groaned in pleasure. Salty, musky fluid pooled in my mouth, and every so often, I took a moment to swallow her precious secretions.

My ass responded to slow, insistent pressure from her fingertip as she worked it in. She was deliberately ignoring my cock so I wouldn't ejaculate too early, which I appreciated. Instead, she curled and thrust her fingertip against my prostate. It was a unique sensation—I felt like I needed to urinate, although I knew it wasn't possible. Instead, I enjoyed that liminal feeling that could only be produced by the confluence of nerves and mucous membranes in the human pelvis. While I continued to eat her out, my ass contracted more and more around her finger, and made me groan. Finally, Chiaki shuddered in orgasm, and I felt a squirt of her urine hit my neck and chest.

"Good boy," she said, as she rose. She withdrew her finger from my ass, which made me twitch. She reclined on the couch again and spread her legs. "Fuck my pussy until you feel like coming, but finish in my mouth," she said. "I have something special in mind."

Too addled to puzzle out the meaning of her words, I knelt in front of her and thrust my cock in. She stirred her clitoris with her fingers, eking out another orgasm. With all the prostate stimulation I'd been given, and the sublime feeling of her pussy walls, I was ready to come in no time. As instructed, I withdrew just as I started to spasm for real, and shoved my manhood right into her mouth. I moaned as I came harder and with more volume than usual. My semen leaked from the corners of her mouth, and she purred in contentment. Eventually, I withdrew and collapsed onto the couch.

Without speaking, Chiaki shifted over to where Megumi sat. She was covered in sweat and pink from head to toe. Her womanhood was engorged, and her pubes were soaked. Chiaki rubbed Megumi under her chin, prompting her to open her mouth. Then, Chiaki pressed her lips to Megumi's, and slowly transferred my come into Megumi's mouth while at the same time putting a finger up Megumi's ass. As this happened, Megumi shook and writhed in orgasm. A dribble of fluid rolled off the couch cushions and spattered on the floor. Chiaki pulled her lips back and gave Megumi an indulgent smile. "Next time, I'll let you eat it out of my pussy," Chiaki promised her, and kissed Megumi again. "And if you're really good, I'll let you drink it from my ass."

Megumi whimpered, nodded, and collapsed, spent. A thin trickle of my come and her saliva worked its way down her chin and between her breasts. I stared at this magnificent sight, transfixed with desire, and restrained by physiology.

CHAPTER 8: I'LL COVER YOU

Class was again in session at Studio 136. And unlike last time, the semicircle was full, and then some.

Nick's eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks were coarse with stubble. His hands shook and his teeth were stained with the detritus from the innumerable packs of cigarettes he'd burned through over the last week.

"Nicky-kun, it looks like something good happened!" Chiaki mewed at him. "Give it here, nyah," she said, and extended a paw.

"Payment first," Nick grunted.

"But alcohol's bad for you, nyah!"

"Then you don't get the script, nyah!"

Chiaki giggled, and then fished out a wooden box from her handbag. 'The Macallan 21 Years' was prominently burned onto its face. "Did I tell you that you're my favorite director right meow?"

Nick rolled his eyes and took the box, which he secreted away in his messenger satchel. Out of his bag, he then pulled out several tightly-bound copies of the newest Japanese-language script for 'Rent.'

"Eighty-five minutes," he said. "It accounts for our double roles. I changed the lyrics for some songs, updated the set design, and rewrote dialogue to better reflect the patois you'd hear in a poor neighborhood in the inner city."

Chiaki flipped through the script's pages, quickly scanning the contents. I'd expected her to be done with it when she reached the end, but instead, she spent a while leafing back and forth between sections, reading them with surprisingly intensity. Finally, she looked back up at Nick.

"This isn't Jonathan Larson's 'Rent,'" Chiaki said.

"You're right. It's not."

I pressed my fingers to my lips. Had Nick's hard work all been for nothing?

Chiaki gave him a wry look. "The character names are the same, as are the major story beats and themes. But this isn't just a story about marginalized New Yorkers in 1990, is it?"

"No. Are you going to reject it?"

"If I went strictly with Kaiousha's requirements, then yes, I'd reject this. They want a famous American rock musical about an era that's long since passed out of many peoples' memory. Because, then, it's easy to dismiss all those so-called 'western problems' and go back to a comfortable, upper-echelon existence. But what you have here is something…timeless. It's global. It could just as easily be about Nigerian immigrants, queer people, sex workers, and drug addicts in the shadows of Kabukicho and Roppongi. The sights, smells, and sounds of your early life, no?"

Nick nodded. "I wanted to honor my birth parents with this script. But I understand if you can't use it. I prepared a safe version, just in case."

"Throw your 'safe version' in the trash right now!" Chiaki said, stomping a foot. She rose and made a fist. "Everyone in the audience will hear your birth parents' voices loud and clear! We're going with your original. This will be a production to remember."

At this, Nick visibly shook in relief. Akina threw her arms around his shoulders and squeezed him.

"Thank you, Professor," Nick said, wiping his eyes. "Only one problem remains, though. I couldn't solve it, no matter what I tried. We need someone else to play Mimi. I know you can easily play every single role, but there are scenes where both women need to appear onstage at once. There's a dynamic between them that can't be substituted or deferred."

"Hm," Chiaki said, and scratched at her chin. "Well, don't worry about it. You've already put in an enormous amount of work. As your professor, it's my job to resolve situations like these. But for now, we need to squeeze value out of every minute we have. Everyone, get a copy of your script. And, Miss Touma, I see that you were not only on time, but also you brought some extra hands today."

"Even a five-dimensional genius like me can't do everything alone," Megumi said, smugly. She gestured to the sizable group of students milling about behind her. Surprisingly, she and the others were dressed in what I assumed to be the uniform of the LSJUMB. A floppy white fishing hat, cardinal-colored blazer over an untucked blouse and clumsily-done necktie, clam-digger pants for the guys and miniskirts for the women (and some of the men), and of course, Adidas flip flops to complete the look. It was the sloppiest, most unprofessional marching band uniform I'd ever seen, at least compared to the Napoleonic grandeur of other bands. Megumi had added even more wacky bullshit to her own outfit, namely a braid-festooned hussar pelisse draped over one shoulder and capped with a gold-plumed shako hat.

"Megumin, you're really trying to make sure I give you exactly what I promised, eh?" Chiaki said, with a friendly leer.

Megumi blushed. "I'm just trying to save my people. We'll do whatever stupid shit you want, as long as the dean leaves the Shak alone."

"He won't touch your filthy orgy hovel as long as I have a say in it," Chiaki said.

"Orgy hovel! Orgy hovel!" the band chanted.

"Everyone take a few minutes to read the script," Chiaki commanded. "Then, we'll do a scene. Yuu-yuu, Sacchan, do you think you can do 'I'll Cover You' from Act One?"

"I'll give it a shot," I said, flipping to the right spot in Nick's script. He hadn't really changed too much, which was lucky for me. I knew the lyrics by heart, since 'Rent' had been my first musical. In fact, it was probably the reason I'd become interested going onstage in the first place. And I knew that it was also one of Saeko's favorites, although her absolute favorite was 'Rent's' direct descendant, 'Avenue Q.' Fortunately for us, Nick's script also included the pertinent parts of the score to go with our lyrics.

"This brings back memories," Saeko said, smiling as she pored over the script. "Hey, why didn't we do more musicals at Houjou?"

"Because finding a pit orchestra was just as difficult then, as it is now," I said. "Seriously, the only reason we got anyone to play for 'Titus Andronicus' was because I promised them Hanako would do a private maid cafe event."

Saeko chuckled. "I didn't know that! Did you seriously pimp out poor Morikawa Hanako in a maid outfit?"

"I did, and I'm not too proud about it," I said, with a pout. "Thank God Hanako was a good sport about the whole thing. But later, I paid her back with blood, sweat, and tears. So many tears."

"Sounds like she made you play 'Apex Legends' with her all night," Saeko said.

"You called it," I said.

"Did she stomp you into paste and teabag your corpse?"

"She's probably the most toxic player I've ever encountered. Also, I learned two more things about her that night: she never misses, and she always goes for the face."

Saeko laughed in earnest, and, out of sheer reflex, clasped my hands in hers with fingers intertwined as she went in for a kiss. A moment later, she realized what she'd been doing, and hurriedly extricated herself, looking away.

"Sorry," she said, softly. "Old habit. I just remembered how I used to feel when you made me laugh, and…"

I started to look away as well, but stopped. "No, it's fine. The scene we're about to do is a love confession between Tom and Angel. This is one of the happiest moments of their lives. It's good to draw on similar experiences of yours. It's okay to remember emotions like that, even if they're not…applicable to now."

"Because it's just acting?" Saeko asked, softly.

"It's just acting," I said, my mouth dry. It's just acting.

"There are a lot of kissing scenes in this musical," Saeko said, again averting her gaze. "Are you truly okay with that?"

"Stage kisses are completely meaningless," I said. "It's totally fine, Professor Iizuka."

She flashed me a hurt look. "Yujiro, I'll ask again. Can you please call me 'Saeko' when we're not in class?"

"It's…too informal."

"I'm not asking you to call me 'Sacchan,' like you used to. I just…want you to call me by my name, not my title. Do that for me, at least as a fellow actor."

"Okay," I said, and nodded. She's just a fellow actor. Treat her no differently from Nick and Akina, or even Chiaki. "Saeko it is."

"You two ready yet?" Chiaki asked. "I even got some musical accompaniment to help out!"

To my surprise, Megumi sat at the Yamaha U1 piano that resided in the studio. Her eyes were closed, her posture straighter than I'd ever seen it before, and her hands practically arced with power. Without sounding a single note, she already looked like the youngest Giovanni Competition winner in history.

"Let's start," I said to Saeko, took her hand, and marched to the center of Studio 136. As we did so, the utilitarian trappings of Roble Gymnasium fell away, revealing the dreary, dirty surrounds of the New York City Washington Square subway station. I was Tom Collins, a young, broke, HIV-infected gay man barely hanging on in a capitalist society. Next to me, Saeko was Angel Shunard, a young drag queen and street performer who'd saved me right after I'd been beaten and robbed in front of my own apartment.

"So, would you really do it?" I asked Saeko in Japanese, as we walked arm-in-arm after emerging from the sickly green of the station underground. "Run away with me to Santa Fe, open a restaurant together?"

"I'll be the hostess, but you have to be the cook," Saeko replied, playfully hip-checking me. "Kitchens are way too hot for girls like me!"

"I'd take a hot kitchen over this…" I waved my hand in the chilly air of fall in New York City. "It's way too cold."

Saeko's eyes shone playfully as she again took my hand. "Come on, I'll warm you up."

Megumi pressed the keys, and the familiar chords of "I'll Cover You" belted out from the Yamaha as Saeko started to sing, clearly as a bell.

Live in my house, I'll be your shelter

Just pay me back, with one thousand kisses

Be my lover, and I'll cover you

Flush with happiness at her confession, I couldn't resist breaking into a smile so broad that it threatened to prevent my from singing properly. Nevertheless, I answered her.

Open your door, I'll be your tenant

Don't got much baggage, to lay at your feet

But sweet kisses, I've got to spare

I'll be there, and I'll cover you

Both of us joined voices now, continuing to walk and sing happily down the block.

I think they meant it

When they said you can't buy love

Now I know you can rent it

A new lease you are, my love,

On life

Be my life

We joined hands, and swung each other around, giddy with glee, relief, and everything in between.

I've longed to discover

Something as true as this is

Oh, lover, I'll cover you!

Oh, lover, I'll cover you…

The song drew to a close, and Megumi's final notes rang out. Saeko and I drew each other into an embrace, as we caressed each others' faces. Our lips met and our eyes closed. A flood of memories assailed my brain. My chest tightened, my heart thundered in my chest, and my eyes burned.

It's just acting, I reminded myself, over and over. So please, let me just enjoy this moment.

"And 'cut,'" Chiaki said, gently.

Saeko and I hadn't realized it, but the music had stopped long ago, even with the aid of the sostenuto pedal on the Yamaha. We opened our eyes simultaneously, realized instantly what had happened, and abruptly separated from each other. Before she looked away from me, I noticed that her cheeks had flushed pink again.

"Fuck yeah!" the band started to cheer, and my classmates broke into applause. "Fuck yeah!"

"I think you'll do just fine as Tom and Angel," Chiaki said, gleefully rubbing her hands together. "And that's all the time we have for class today. Nick, you're the director. Give out our tasks so we can all go home and masturbate!"

Again, the band let out a throaty cheer. "A-ki-RA! A-ki-RA!"

"Alright, everyone calm down and let's do this," Nick started. "Megumi, how soon can you record the score? Also, get me the emails and phone numbers of your section leaders. I'll send them my stage design notes, and we'll have to start getting materials together…"

"Sorry again," Saeko said, unable to meet my gaze. "I feel like a hypocrite."

"Why?"

She chuckled. "Because I used to lecture you all the time on snapping out of a role. Yet look what happened."

"It's fine," I replied. "It'll get easier and easier the more we do this. Hell, by dress rehearsal we won't be able to stand each other!"

"Perhaps," she said. "But what if the reverse happens?"

I gently clasped her shoulders. "We did a great job. You really seem to fit the role. I look forward to working with you again…Saeko."

"Yuu-yuu! I need to borrow Tenshi-chan over here," Chiaki said, wrapping her arms around Saeko from behind.

"Oh? What for?" Saeko asked.

"We're gonna hit up a sex shop, of course," Chiaki said. "The best ones are in the Castro district!"

"Wait, why? What do we need in a sex shop?"

"Angel is a drag queen with a man's body. We need to fit you with a good chest binder, find you a packing solution, and other masculinizing accessories!"

"But I thought Angel was a trans woman?"

"Oho! There are some big differences between being transfem and being a drag queen. There are also many people who don't fit neatly into either category! I'll tell you all about it on the way," Chiaki led Saeko away while continuing to gab at her, leaving me alone.

"I'll let you escort me home, plebian," Megumi said, haughtily extending a hand.

I scoffed at her. "Didn't you tell me you don't have a place to sleep? Where would I even take you?"

"Your shitty drama teacher's going out to shop for fake flaccid dicks. So let's crash at her place. We can even order pizza again if she left her credit card laying around."

"Don't steal money from my professor."

"I'm an expert at taking from arrogant old bags. Do you know how much cash I've lifted from Kazusa?"

"You're literally a criminal," I said. "I should call the cops."

"I can't conduct the band if I'm in jail, dingus. Actually," she laughed, evilly, "take me to Kazusa's place instead. If she's out, I'm gonna go through her stuff."

"You're actually crazy."

"I'm rubber and you're glue, and whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you."

"How very sophisticated."

"Thank you," she said, and wrapped her arm around mine. "Now off we go, to do crimes!"

I sighed, trying in vain to find solutions that didn't involve me ending up in American prison. Then, an evil thought hit me. Kazusa was surely home. If Megumi was so hell-bent on carrying out this hare-brained scheme, I'd oblige her. In fact, I'd deliver her right to Kazusa and lock her inside.

#

To my great chagrin, Kazusa didn't seem to be home. And of course, she hadn't told me where she'd be, since she wasn't the type to text, call, or really, give a shit about anyone who might worry for her. The worst part was that I'd also unthinkingly deployed something I'd have rather kept secret from Megumi.

"I knew you had a key!" she said, puffed with delight as she strode into Kazusa's condo. She turned and gave me a condescending grin. "You're a total fuckboy, aren't you?"

"Seriously, don't steal anything," I pleaded. "In fact, we should just leave right now. I'm sure Chiaki—Sennouchi Akira—won't mind if you sleep on her couch tonight. Let's get some pizza!"

Megumi tossed her pelisse and shako onto one of the couches in the living room and immediately barged into the kitchen. I cursed my bad luck—who was I kidding, poor judgment—and followed her. Before I could do or say anything, she'd already opened the fridge and half-downed a large chocolate tart that Kazusa had probably been saving for a special occasion.

"Wan shome?" Megumi asked, her cheeks puffed with expensive French ganache.

I rolled my eyes. "No. And did you just eat that with your hands?"

She wiped chocolate-covered fingers against my chin. "Of course I ate it with my hands! They're the forks that Satan gave us!"

"If I hail Satan, will you leave?"

"Nope," Megumi said, and downed the rest of the tart in two bites. "Now that feels better." She belched, without any effort to cover her mouth. "Okay, now I'm gonna practice a bit."

I raised an eyebrow. "I thought you'd given up the piano. Why do you want to practice?"

She brushed past me and made her way to Kazusa's treasured 1928 Steinway Model D. She pulled out the bench, lifted the fallboard, and went for the keys.

"Hold on!" I barked at her. "At least wash your hands first!"

"If you wanna protect Auntie Kazusa's piano so badly, then lick my fingers clean," she said, with a sneer.

I glared at her, but then sat beside her on the bench. Then, I took one of her hands in mine, and proceeded to suck the residual chocolate stains off each of her fingers. This is for Auntie Kazusa's sake, I told myself. Megumi, clearly enjoying herself, bit her lip as I finished off all ten of her fingers and then wiped them with my shirt. She again pressed her fingertips to the keys, and started to play. It was a classical piece, and one I'd never heard before, but clearly way above any casual player's level.

"So, care to tell me where this sudden change of heart came from? I thought you'd given up," I asked as she wound effortlessly through complex arpeggios and chord progressions that gave me heartburn when I thought about the mechanics involved. "Also, what are you playing?"

"Liszt, duh. Sonata in B minor."

"That sounds…difficult?"

"It's mid-tier," she said, with a shrug.

"This is mid-tier?" I almost shouted, the complexity of the notes overwhelming my synapses.

Megumi shot me another look of pure smugness. "Oh? How does it feel to be in the presence of a dark lord of the night? Feel free to service my feet at any time. Of course, not when I'm using the pedal. I'll kick you."

"I wish you'd never thought of that title. Anyway, you didn't answer my question. Why are you practicing? Hell, is this actually practicing? It sounds like a recital to me."

"This quality is cum mayo on a shit sandwich," Megumi said. "I'm rusty as fuck. But, if you must know, I'm banging keys 'cause I gotta hold up my end of our deal now. You're working on yours, after all."

"Oh," I said, conflicted over how to feel. "You know, just because I kissed Saeko during rehearsal doesn't mean we're actually reconciled. Or that we've fallen in love again. It was just acting. She knows it, too."

"And just because I'm queefing out a crapburger of a sonata doesn't mean I'm taking the piano back up for real," Megumi said. "But it's a start, just like you and her."

"I didn't think you were serious about any of this," I said, shaking my head. "But…I'm glad you brought the band over. We could really use the help. And your rendition of 'I'll Cover You' was basically perfect. Have you played that before?"

"Nope, not at all. I glanced at the score on my phone a few minutes before I started."

She's a real-life music pro, despite all her wackiness. "I enjoyed listening to you. You're amazing. You made our hearts just soar like crazy."

She flushed red for a moment and smashed an obviously wrong cluster of keys. "Don't distract me!" she snapped, and resumed playing.

"Sorry, sorry," I said, waving my hands. "I'll shut up now."

"Don't misunderestimate me," she said.

"Is that actual English?"

"One of those American presidents said it, so it must be. Anyway, I'll have you know that was a fluke. I can play through most any kind of distraction. I'll prove it to you."

I chuckled. "Sure, I believe you."

She lifted her hands from the keys and started another piece that immediately roiled with energy. "This is the finale of Rachmaninoff's Concerto Number Three. Playing it drove David Helfgott fucking insane."

"It sounds like it would drive me insane, too," I said, as I watched her the movement of her fingers blur with speed far in excess of the Liszt piece she'd played earlier. Though I was a neophyte, I could sense the difficulty rising with every keystroke.

"Holy shit," I whispered.

"You ain't seen nothin' yet," she said. "Rub my pussy."

"What?"

"Did I stutter?" Megumi said, as she worked her way up and down the 88 keys.

I bit my lip. She wore a miniskirt as part of her uniform. Taking care to avoid bumping her arms, I carefully placed a hand on her thigh and slid it between her legs. She spread her thighs to let me go deeper. My fingers brushed the sheer cotton of her panties, and slid up and down the moistening crease of her womanhood. She jerked forward, and I couldn't tell if it was just her playing or a reaction to my touch, but she hadn't made any obvious mistakes. Meanwhile, my erection grew and started to throb in my pants.

"Put your fingers in," she gasped, while continuing to play.

My mouth dry, I followed her command, and pushed her panties aside. They were soaked at this point. She'd responded quickly and heavily to my touch. Again careful not to bump her arms, I slid my middle and ring fingers in. Her walls tensed powerfully, as if to pull me even deeper in.

"Dude, what the fuck, move them!" she snarled.

I followed her command, and started to thrust my fingers in and out of her. With my thumb, I pressed on and rubbed her erect clitoris. Her playing, rather than disintegrating under the stimulation, only seemed to become more precise, and simultaneously more ferocious. She fired off a rapid sequence of descending chords until she'd made it all the way to the bottom registers, before reversing course and hitting the top again. At the fortissimo in D major, I curled my fingers to hit her Skene's glands, and she let out a shout. Her walls squeezed my fingers with enough force to almost expel them, and I felt warmth pool between her legs and soak the bottom of her skirt. A thin strand of drool flowed from the corner of her mouth and hit the keys. And yet through all of this, she only played on until she hit the final chord, and threw up her hands in triumph.

"That was unreal," I whispered, in awe.

Megumi was silent, but euphoria was writ large in her eyes. Slowly, she lowered her arms, took my cheeks in her hands, and drew me in for a kiss. Our lips pressed together, far gentler than I'd expected, and the tip of her tongue danced tentatively with my own. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Through my fingers, still buried deep within her, I could feel the racing of her heart.

"Megumi," Kazusa said, behind us. "Welcome home."

CHAPTER 9: SONG FOR THE DUMPED

Megumi broke off her kiss with me, but didn't turn her head to look at Kazusa. Everything about this situation predicted that she'd scream in terror, explode in anger, or simply faint, but Megumi only let out a perfunctory sigh.

"Touma-sensei," she said, dripping boredom.

As surreptitiously as I could, I tried to withdraw my hand from between her legs, only for her to clamp her thighs shut, preventing me from doing so. What the fuck, Megumi? I wanted to say, but instead I kept my mouth shut.

"You played well," Kazusa said. I could tell she was struggling to be careful and tactful. Those were things that Kazusa struggled with in general, so I could only imagine how much her stress had been compounded by the sight of her daughter making out me at her piano.

"Really?" Megumi replied. "I played well. That's all you have to say?"

Kazusa swallowed. "Yes, that's right. I enjoyed hearing you again. I'd like…to hear you play more, if that's okay." She waved a hand after a split-second. "I mean, you don't have to do it right now, but maybe another time…"

Megumi's eyelids narrowed to slits. "You and I both know, sensei, that there are continued, fundamental flaws in my tempo, my fingering, my expression, my pedal control, my economy of movement, my…" She clenched her jaw. "My everything."

"Megumi, listen…" Kazusa said, starting to tremble. "That's not really important anymore—"

"Then why did you waste your precious breath on it?" Megumi snarled. "I always held one thing constant in my life, which was that you would never lie to me about how much I sucked, and how I would never live up to your standards as a pianist, as a student, as a daughter…as a person. So how dare you lie to me now, Touma-sensei?"

Kazusa hung her head, clutching her hands together. "Megumi, I'm sorry. Please, can we just talk about things calmly? I'll let you say whatever you want. I won't interrupt. I won't…"

"We don't have anything else to talk about," Megumi said. "I'm done here. I'll leave your fuckboy behind. He's serviced me well enough."

With that, she unclenched her thighs, stood up, pushed herself away from the piano.

"Megumi, please stay! I have a room for you…" Kazusa said, reaching for her wrist.

"Don't touch me!" Megumi shrieked, snatching her arm back. She stormed toward the door and opened it. Before she left, she looked back at me. Her eyes were wet with tears. Then, after a moment, she slammed the door shut.

"Shit," I whispered.

Kazusa squatted on the floor and pressed her palms to her face. Then, she too started to sob in earnest. And, as much as I wanted to go after Megumi—whether it was to chide her or comfort her, I didn't quite know—my precious Kazusa was in distress right next to me.

I knew better than to try in vain to bring her out of her sorrow with words of impeccable logic, comedic genius, or overwhelming tenderness. Cool speeches only worked in fiction, for narratives that needed quick conflict resolution. In real life, the only thing that ever worked was to simply be there. So I simply sat on the floor next to Kazusa, gently took her by the shoulders, and hugged her tightly.

#

Later, Kazusa and I sat side by side on her couch, holding each other. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and her body still trembled, but her tears were spent for the moment. All throughout this, I hadn't said a word. Eventually, she creakily pulled herself up, went to the kitchen, and came out with a wad of wet wipes and paper towels. Then, she went up to her beloved Steinway Model D and started to rub down the bench.

Oh no… I thought, realizing that she was cleaning up the aftermath of Megumi's 'technical demonstration.'

"Kazusa, please, I'll take care of that," I said, rising from the couch and going up to her. "It's my fault we made a mess. And I apologize if there's chocolate on the keys—"

"It's okay, Yuji," Kazusa said, as she finished wiping. "Remember? I told you it's fine for you and Megumi to date. Things like this are bound to happen between young people exploring each other's bodies."

I blushed. Though I'd slept with Kazusa quite a few times by now, this conversation was a bit too mother-to-son for my taste. "Still," I muttered, "we shouldn't have damaged your instrument like that…"

"There's no harm done," Kazusa said. She tossed the paper towels into a nearby trash bin. "That's the advantage of genuine leather upholstery on the bench. Body fluids are no big deal."

This only made me feel worse, and I sank back down into my seat. "Just to be clear, we're not really dating…"

She laughed, and I was glad to see her do so. "You had your fingers in her while she gave you a kiss so romantic it was embarrassing. And that's not dating?"

"We were arguing with each other, believe it or not," I said, looking away. "How much did you see, anyway?"

Kazusa sat back down on the couch next to me. "I heard you two come in. I was napping before that."

"What did you think of her playing, anyway?" I asked. "I'm a total amateur, so it was all extremely impressive."

"She wasn't wrong about being rusty," Kazusa said. "She's become unrefined on the technical side, as I'd expect from two years of skipping practice. But, believe it or not, she's improving her expressiveness. And that's the best I've ever heard her play the finale of the Rach Three."

I demurred making any commentary. After all, the woman I'd been sleeping with had just watched me fingering her daughter to orgasm. This was the definition of an awkward situation.

Kazusa continued. "Speed and precision are a matter of practice and discipline—almost any pianist can play Rachmaninoff or Liszt or Chopin if they practice long and hard enough. But expressiveness is based on emotions and experiences. Deep sorrow, raging lust, boiling anger…you have to have felt those things to express them, just like with your acting. I was probably at my technical best when I was seventeen. But I hadn't experienced those truly deep emotions until I met…" she glanced over at me tenderly. "Until I met your father, and your mother."

"I know Dad wavered between you and Mom for a long time," I said. "Is that what influenced your playing style?"

"Yes, that was a large part of it."

"Kazusa," I asked, pursing my lips. Memories of her crying in bed while holding me brimmed to the surface. "Are you angry that my dad chose my mom and not you?"

She chuckled. "Of course I am. I think about it often. Actually, every day. But in the end, I'm glad he chose her," Kazusa said, and drew me into an embrace. "Because it allowed you to be born."

"I love you, Kazusa," I said, burying my face in her chest.

"I love you too, Yuji," she said, and kissed me tenderly on the forehead.

"Kazusa, I've made a decision," I said, drunk off her affection, and reeling with delight. "I'll move on from Saeko, and stop messing around with Megumi. I also need to cut things off with that damned Izumi Chiaki, like, yesterday. I'll devote myself only to you, if you'll have me. Maybe we could get married, eventually."

She drew in a deep, quavering breath with her nose buried in my hair. "I was afraid of this."

"What do you mean? Why be afraid?"

"It's very tempting to say 'yes,' Yuji. But it's not something that can work. Not now, and not ever."

I frowned. I didn't like this. Any of this. "Why not?"

"First of all, I'm an old woman, compared to you. Do you really want to be with a seventy-year-old when you're only fifty?"

Ah, silly. I need to reassure her. "There are plenty of couples like that. And, if you're concerned that I'll just be a struggling actor all my life, don't worry about it anymore. I'll change my major. I'll learn to code, no matter what it takes. Those people earn a ton of money. I'll support you, okay?"

Kazusa slowly shook her head. "Yuji, don't throw your dream away for me. That would break my heart."

"Fine, then I'll just excel at acting. I'll make sure I get parts in movies! Izumi-sensei will get me some ins, I know it!"

She shushed me with a finger. "The most important reason is that I can't do that to Setsuna or Haruki. They are my precious companions for life. I decided, twenty years ago, to make them my life. So I won't steal their son from them. It would destroy us all."

"I'll tell them, myself," I said. "Mom and I are a lot alike. When we set our minds to something, nothing can break our resolve. She'll respect what I have to say. And if they oppose us, I'll…I'll cut them off until they see reason!"

"No, you won't," Kazusa said, firmly. "I will not let them suffer more, even if it means I have to cut off contact with you."

My heart froze at her threat. "Why would you do that?"

"They've already gone through enough because of me. If I hadn't existed, they—"

Something deep within made me incensed. I extricated myself from her grasp. "Don't blame yourself!" I shouted. "Dad said it himself, it wasn't because of you that he—" A wave of nausea and terror assailed me. I had no idea where it came from. I stood bolt upright, needing to stretch my cramping legs. "He…" I started to cough and hack. Something was choking me, though there was no one else in the room. Kazusa's eyes widened and she gripped me by the shoulders.

"Yuji! Stop!" Kazusa said, frantically patting me on the cheek.

Tears streamed from the corners of my eyes. I didn't know if I was crying from fear, or despair, or even pain. The world was sepia.

Kazusa clenched her jaw and balled her fists. Sorrow and resignation passed over her features. "Yuji, listen to me," she said, disconcertingly calmly. "Your parents are fine! They're…fine together. Haruki and I talked recently. He said he's getting along with Setsuna, and that they both love you very much. They're fine. Just fine."

I felt the pressure ebb from my throat, and I collapsed to my knees. Color returned to my perception, and I wiped the tears from my eyes and the snot from my face. Kazusa knelt next to me and rubbed my back. And after a few more minutes of her comforting touch, I felt more normal again.

"Sorry, Kazusa," I said, shaking my head. I could breathe again. "I freaked out, and I have no idea why. What were we even talking about?"

Kazusa looked away from me for a moment, as if to steel herself. "Yuji, we should stop having sex with each other."

Fuck… This was completely out of the blue. I shook my head. "I'm sorry, Kazusa. I don't understand. Did I do or say something awful to you? If it's about me freaking out, I really apologize, and—"

"Yuji," she said, grasping my face in her hands. "I love you, possibly more than any other man on this planet right now. I'll always treasure the memories we made, and I'll always be your loving Auntie, but I've decided that we won't share a bed anymore. And that's final. Will you respect that?"

"Kazusa, why?" My voice broke. "I don't understand!"

"I don't mean to be harsh, but it doesn't matter if you understand," she said. "Haruki… he told me the same thing, twenty years ago. And I respected him enough to abide by the decision, even though I hated every moment of it. Even if I had to wear an iron mask for the rest of my life. But because he finally found his resolve, it allowed you and Akina to be born. So if you don't respect my decision, that's like condemning your own existence. And I won't allow it. I'd rather stop talking with you entirely than let you do that."

"No!" I whined, pathetically. "I can't lose you…"

"Then let's be a proper family again, not secret lovers," Kazusa said, and wrapped me in a hug. "I'm sorry I made the first move. I was wrong, just like I've been wrong about a lot of things in my life. Please forgive your auntie for that."

"You weren't wrong," I said, sniffling. "I'm glad we got to share that…"

"I am too. But it's time for you to move on."

"If you're doing this all for your daughter's sake, it's useless," I said. "She's an asshole! I despise her! She made you cry!"

"Then date Iizuka-sensei instead."

"She made me cry!"

"Then date Izumi-sensei," Kazusa said.

"She's even more a turd than anyone else!" I protested. And yet, despite that, I felt the slightest need to laugh through my tears.

That night, for the first time in months, it rained in California. The downpour and sudden temperature drop likely saved the state from another devastating round of wildfires, as well as prevented the loss of countless kilotons of grapes, almonds, and other cash crops that had been cooking to death for weeks. It also prompted an unexpected visitor at Kazusa's door.

The knocking woke me from a restless sleep on Kazusa's couch. After our breakup, I'd been too tired and morose to make my way to my dorm room, or even Chiaki's, and had simply crashed in place. Kazusa had made it clear to me; we were over, sexually. She was my beloved Auntie again. And I hated it with all my being.

At first, I ignored the sound, and told myself that it was simply shenanigans from the squirrels that had taken over campus. But it simply didn't stop. In fact, the knocking only became more and more insistent. Kazusa was likely in a deep sleep, herself, and hadn't responded. I dragged myself up off the couch and groggily made my way to the door. Making sure the security chain was still in place, I opened it a crack.

"Megumi?" I yelped.

She looked like hell. In fact, she was drenched from head to toe. Her band uniform was sodden, her hair was bedraggled, and her eyes were puffy and bloodshot as well. It would have been easy to mistake her for a vengeful ghost, like Sadako rising from the well to strangle a fool. The effect was also compounded because she didn't speak. I quickly closed the door on her, but only to undo the security chain and open it right back up.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Does it look like I'm fucking okay?" she said, and promptly collapsed into my arms.

#

"She has hypothermia," Kazusa said, as she checked the readout on the small digital thermometer. She sighed. "Why was she out in the rain and cold like that? Doesn't she have her own room on campus?"

"She does," I said. "But it's full of all of the marching band's stuff right now. They don't have anywhere else to store it. Their trailer's been condemned, and the dean wants to revoke their charter. So Megumi's been sleeping on couches, or even outside. That's what she told me, at least."

Megumi slept under a comforter in the spare bedroom in Kazusa's condo. Everything she'd worn had been sodden and cold, so Kazusa had stripped her down to nothing.

"I'm a little annoyed at you for not telling me this," Kazusa said to me, and clicked her tongue.

"Sorry, Auntie Kazusa," I said. "Even if you'd known, she'd have refused help from you. Still, I wonder why no one from the band was willing to let her stay with them. She's like their empress or something."

"We need to warm her up," Kazusa said. "Can you get naked and get in bed with her? I'll do it as well, but I need to step out before she wakes up."

"Whoa, that's a little—"

"Skin to skin contact is the most effective way to warm someone in distress," Kazusa said. "But if she wakes up and finds just me naked next to her, she'll get angry and leave again. Yuji, please help me."

I swallowed. I couldn't reject an earnest plea for help from Kazusa, even if the dynamic between us had changed dramatically. And, despite my disdain for her, I also didn't want Megumi to suffer. "Let's go," I said, and peeled off my outfit.

As Kazusa did the same with her clothing, I avoided looking at her. If I truly respected her wishes, I needed to act the part, for real. Carefully, I slipped under the comforter. Megumi was in a fetal position on her side, facing me. She felt ice cold, enough to kill any suggestion of an erection as my member brushed against her. Kazusa got in behind her, and pressed her body to Megumi's back.

"Thank you, Yuji," Kazusa said, tenderly.

"Of course, Auntie Kazusa," I said. "We're family."

We're family. The words sounded hollow enough to make me want to scream.

#

Despite how truly uncomfortable it was to press one's body against a hypothermic person, I had somehow eventually drifted off to sleep. When I opened my eyes, again, however, it was already late into the morning. Sunlight leaked into the room from small gaps in the venetian blinds and painted the bedroom in brilliant stripes. Of course, I hated it because I was tired and wanted to sleep more. In my groggy haze, I didn't realize immediately that I was looking into Megumi's eyes as she stared at me.

We were on our sides, facing each other, with her head resting on one of my arms, and mine resting on one of hers. Our legs were intertwined, and my sex rested on her thigh. Her other hand was on my cheek, as if to gently caress it. Her tresses fell all over the pillow and the sheets, framing her heart-shaped face. She wasn't sneering or sulking, either. Instead, her expression could almost be described as longing. She was, in that moment, angelic.

"Wanna screw?" she asked.

I frowned. This wasn't right. "No," I said.

Now, she scowled. "What? Why the fuck not?"

"Because you were about to die last night, and also we're in Auntie Kazusa's house. She's next door."

"But I feel better now," Megumi said. "Don't I get a reward for telling Death to fuck off?"

"Auntie Kazusa and I shivered all night to warm you up. Don't disturb her rest, please. It's also inappropriate to have sex in someone else's house."

"She can't just claim some stupid monopoly on fucking. That's against anti-trust law. I paid attention in economics 101."

I rolled onto my back and rested my forearms against my eyes. "Why were you wandering around in a rainstorm last night?"

She pushed herself up in the bed and rested against the headboard. The comforter fell away from her and exposed her breasts. I shot a glance at them, but restrained myself from staring. My breakup with Kazusa was still too fresh in my mind. And she still looked too much like Kazusa.

"I told you," she said. "I don't have a place to sleep. My room's full of crap."

"Why didn't anyone let you sleep at their place? Isn't the band your personal army? Aren't you the Biggus Dickus of Phi Kappa Psi, or something?"

"I was…really fucking upset," Megumi said. "And my control as a dark lord will be broken if my thralls see my weakness. So I holed up in the Band Shak. I didn't know it would rain, though, and I didn't know the roof would cave in! I hate this fucking place! Death to America!"

I chuckled. This was the Touma Megumi I knew. Not some lovely apparition caressing my cheek in bed. "Megumi… I think you should sleep here from now on. I was really worried about you last night."

Her cheeks flashed pink for a moment. "Not gonna happen," she said, and drew the comforter up to her neck. "Besides all of the shit between me and my mother, I also don't wanna have to hear you assholes doin' the nasty every night."

"We broke up after you left," I said, with a sigh.

"Serves you right," Megumi said. "After all, you fingered me right in front of her Steinway."

"You asked me to!"

"That's still cheating, fuckboy," she said, haughtily. "And with her own daughter, on top of that!" She whistled, dramatically.

"It wasn't because of that," I said. "Not that you care."

"So if you two are broken up, what the hell are you still doing here?"

"She's still my auntie. She's still my treasured family, and I love her no less."

"Fucking disgusting. Well, I'm gonna head out," Megumi said, and shuffled out of bed.

"Listen," I interjected. "I talked it over with her while you were asleep. She knows not to expect you to suddenly reconcile with her or call her 'kaa-san' or anything. She'll stay out of your way, and won't try to be your piano teacher or anything. She knows you have your own life. But can you at least accept having a safe and warm place to sleep?"

"In the words of the great Admiral Akbar: 'It's a trap!'" Megumi declared, striking a naked pose. She'd have been sexy if she hadn't been so infuriating.

"Fine," I said, rolling my eyes. "I'll speak in terms you can comprehend. If you get sick or injured out there, the musical will be ruined. And if that happens, then your Shak will be demolished. Hell, it's already half-doing the job itself. So if you care about the band at all, do what I say and stay here."

She growled at me, leapt onto the bed, and wrapped her hands around my neck. "Bitch! I'll fuck you up!"

I turned my head and closed my eyes. "Do what you wish. Ravage me until I can't have children. But because I am an actor, please avoid marring my face."

Megumi's jaw dropped at the sheer insanity of what I'd just said. And then, her hold on my throat loosened and she started to laugh. "You're so fucking cringe, you know that?"

I winked at her. "Of course I know that."

She punched the bed next to my head. "Fine, whatever! If it gets everyone off my ass, I'll sleep here when I feel like it. Also, you have to…join me if I ask you."

"Even though neither of us has completed their part of the deal?"

"I assume you wanna stick it in my ass, so as long as we don't go through the rear hole, then anything else is fine."

"What if I wanted the front hole? Or your armpit?"

"What the fuck do you want, you huge pervert?"

"I want the musical to succeed."

At this, she took one of the pillows nearby and pressed it to my face.

CHAPTER 10: FULL MOON ON THE QUAD

"The power blows!" Nick declared as my amp shorted and sent sparks flying. It also managed to cut out power for the entire tenement, including our decrepit loft.

Nick was Mark Cohen, a struggling filmmaker whose artistic vision of documenting "real life" had led him straight into poverty and debt. Meanwhile, I was Roger Davis, Mark's roommate and a former rock and roll guitarist dying of AIDS. Meanwhile, Benny Coffin, our slumlord (who Nick played through prerecorded voice clips) had just gotten off the phone with both of us. His message had been simple: we owed him a year of rent, and if we didn't pay up, our asses were on the street. In response, we did what we did best: be bohemian and blare music as loudly as possible. Or at least, we tried to, until the power gave out.

"All stage lights go," Chiaki ordered. "Extras, a flurry of activity for four measures, then stop."

On cue, the band members who'd been chosen to play extras whooped, hollered, and catapulted themselves over and around a mess of folding tables and chairs. Megumi, meanwhile, slammed out chords on the Yamaha while another bandmember shredded on her electric guitar (that actually played, unlike mine). It was a glorious mess of chaos.

"Stage lights down. Spotlight Nick."

He started his song in earnest.

How do you document real life

When real life is getting more

Like fiction every day

Headlines, bread lines, blow my mind

And now this deadline

"Eviction or pay"

Rent!

"Add Roger," Chiaki said.

I sang the second verse.

How do you write a song

When the chords sounds wrong

Though they once sounded right and rare

When the notes are sour

Where is the power

You once had to ignite the air

"And now we're hungry and frozen," Nick sang.

"Some life that we've chosen!" I replied.

"How we gonna pay," we both sang to each other, our faces growing closer.

How we gonna pay

How we gonna pay

Last year's rent!

"Lights down on Mark and Roger," Chiaki said. "Spotlight Joanne."

Akina paced anxiously, singing into a cellphone, which was a new change to reflect that no one even knew what a payphone looked like anymore.

Don't screen, Maureen

It's me, Joanne

Your substitute production manager

Hey hey hey! Did you eat?

Don't change the subject, Maureen

But Darling, you haven't eaten all day

You won't throw up

You won't throw up

The digital delay

Didn't blow up exactly

There may have been one teeny tiny spark

You're not calling Mark!

"Lights down on Joanne," Chiaki ordered. "Spotlight Collins."

Having quickly changed my costume while Akina sang, I leapt onto the stage in Tom's getup.

How do you stay on your feet

When on every street

It's 'trick or treat'

And tonight it's 'trick!'

Welcome back to town

Oh I should lie down

Everything's brown

And, uh oh,

I feel sick

"Lights down on Collins," Chiaki said. "Spotlight Mark."

"Where is he?" Nick asked,

"Getting dizzy!" I shouted back, while stripping away my Collins costume. The moment I did so, I reappeared in the spotlight near Nick to resume our duet.

How we gonna pay

How we gonna pay

How we gonna pay

Last year's rent!

"And cut," Chiaki said.

Megumi signaled with her hand and the music stopped. The overhead fluorescents started up again, catching us all in their familiar white glare. Meanwhile, Nick and I took a moment to catch our breaths. Because we now had the full cast and crew for 'Rent,' we practiced in the Harry J. Elam Theater for the real thing.

"Yunyun, you have less than three seconds to doff and don your costume during transitions," Chiaki said. "Any more, and you'll throw the rest of the cast off. Practice this a hundred times a week from now on. Your cardio is also lacking. Step up the exercise."

I smiled and nodded, pleased to see Chiaki's professional side come out for once. For the first time in a while, I felt like I was actually learning from a professional, instead of being teased and constantly battered with innuendo. "Got it, Professor. Thank you."

"Seriously, if you need exercise, you should visit me more often," she said, licking her lips.

I sighed. So much for professionalism.

"Akina," Chiaki said. "Your voice is sublime and your timing is perfect, but you need to gesticulate more with your hands and make more obvious facial expressions. Joanne is a sassy, powerful woman who doesn't take shit from anyone."

"But I thought I was being pretty zany!"

"Girlfriend, musicals are basically live-action anime. Act accordingly," Chiaki said.

"Professor," Nick said, wiping his brow.

"Yes, Nicky-nyan?"

"I hate to bother you about this, but have you found anyone who can play Mimi?"

Chiaki twirled. "Hai, hai!"

We all looked at each other. There were no new faces in the seminar.

"Uh, who?" I asked.

"Her," Chiaki said, and pointed at Megumi.

Megumi looked at Chiaki's finger, crosseyed.

"Seriously, Professor," Nick said.

"I'm being serious!" Chiaki said. "Megumin will play Mimi."

"Are you on crack?" Megumi snarled.

"I prefer powder cocaine," Chiaki said, winking at her. "Just kidding! I'm not on anything. Maybe. But I meant what I said. I was thinking about this all week. And I know that Megumin is a good fit. She's an amateur, yes, but she knows the score by heart, has a decent voice, and…I sense new emotions in her playing today. That will translate excellently to the stage."

Megumi laughed. "I know you big-name actresses all huff your own farts all the time, but this is just too much brain damage. If I'm on stage, I can't conduct the band or play the piano, baka-onna!"

"I know," Chiaki said. "That's why I found a replacement pianist and conductor. Besides, you've already rearranged the score, so we don't need you for that anymore."

"The hell you say?" Megumi made a fist. "You're just kicking me out of the pit because I'm not useful to you anymore? Who the fuck is gonna replace me? I defy you to name a better player in this country than me! I won the Giovanni!"

Chiaki grinned, evilly. "Your replacement won the Van Cliburn last year."

Megumi's jaw dropped. "That's…"

"Hello," Kazusa said, in English, as she rose from one of the chairs in the back of the audience seats and gave off an awkward wave. She walked down to the stage. "My name is Kazusa Touma. I play piano. Your professor asked me to conduct the band so my daughter could act on stage."

I grit my teeth. Chiaki had just made an unexpected gamble that had even thrown me for a loop. If anyone was going to mutiny and ruin the whole production, it was either going to be Megumi, or the band itself.

As predicted, Megumi raised her objections first. "The entire topic of Kazusa aside, I am not acting on stage!"

"Why not? You have a lot of potential," Chiaki said.

"Because! I'm not an actor or a singer! Just because I did one etude with you guys, in which I sucked, doesn't mean I can do the real thing. I'm not gonna get humiliated! Fuck off!"

"Megumi," Saeko said, and put a hand on her chest. "Breathe for a second. Calm down."

"I can't calm down!" Megumi said. "She can't just…do this to a person, you know? I was told I needed to do the music to save the Shak, and now she's telling me I need to piss myself on stage in front of hundreds and hundreds of people? It's too much!"

"Didn't you win that competition? Weren't there hundreds and hundreds of people in the audience?"

"Yeah, but that was different. I'm a fucking music master. But I know my limitations Compared to you guys, I'm a no-talent ass clown!"

"You're being way too harsh on yourself," Saeko said. "I enjoyed acting with you, a lot. It won't take long to being you up to speed. And if you want, I can help you outside of class, too." She smiled and whispered in Megumi's ear. "Didn't you say you wanted to know me better on a personal level? Now's your chance."

Megumi blushed. "I'm not gonna be bribed like that… Argh! I need to think!" With that, she stormed out of the theater.

"She'll be back," Chiaki said. "What say the LSJUMB? Are you all good with the change? The stage really needs a good Mimi, and you'll get to play with true, world-class talent."

"Art thou the honored mother to our lord and savior, Meg?" one of the band section leaders asked Kazusa.

"Yes, I am Megumi's mother," Kazusa said. "Are you okay with that?"

The band was silent for a moment, save for hushed murmurs. Then, someone started a chant. "Milf! Milf! Milf!"

The chant grew in intensity. And soon, the band cheered, with their instruments raised high. "Milf! Milf! Milf!"

"The conclave hath spoken," the section leader said, amid the chants. He extended a hand to Kazusa. "We accept thee as our regent, until Lord Meg resumeth her rightful place."

Kazusa shook his hand, looking somewhat bewildered, but also relieved. "Thank you, young man. May I ask what is this 'milf?'"

"It means 'wonderful mother,'" I said in Japanese, quickly butting in. "Auntie Kazusa, how did this happen?"

"Oh, Izumi-sensei and I started to have regular lunch together at this sweets shop in Los Altos. She told me about how she thought Megumi had real potential. And since the university's been harassing me to contribute to one of their shows, I thought I'd do this one."

"I don't need to tell you just how dangerous Sennouchi Akira is," I said, shaking my head. "Megumi will be annoyed with you for a while."

"That's fine," Kazusa said. "I was extremely annoyed with Haruki and Setsuna when they butted into my life and pressured me into playing with them at the school festival. So I hope Megumi is just as annoyed."

"You three were, and still are, the strangest people I've ever known," I said, shaking my head, but with a smile.

#

"Wanna get dinner?" Chiaki asked me. She'd dismissed the class for the day, and the vast majority had filed out of theater. The band was clearly enamored of Kazusa, for once she'd played a few excerpts for them on the keyboard, she'd become their new favorite.

"Sure, but can we get something besides Hawaiian pizza this time?" I asked.

"How about Benu?" Chiaki said.

"What's Benu?"

"A restaurant in San Francisco," Chiaki said. "It's got three Michelin stars!"

I instantly remembered the tiny, unsatisfying and way-too-artsy offerings at Quince. "Can we go to a place that's a little more generous with the portions?"

Chiaki poked at my belly. "You'll get chubby, Yuji," she chided. "I only want you chubby in one specific place."

I sighed. "You know, I think I'll just go to Wilbur Hall…"

"But Yuu-yuu, the car's already waiting for us!"

I threw my hands up. "Okay, I get it. This isn't something you thought up on the fly, is it? We're meeting with someone. Who is it?"

"She's really hot, but also really annoying!" Chiaki said, excitedly. "Your kind of woman, now that I think about it." She pouted. "Don't let her steal your heart away, okay? It belongs to me."

"My heart belongs to—" I wanted to say Kazusa, but stopped. We weren't that way anymore. In fact, I couldn't really say who my heart belonged to.

"Poor Yuji," Chiaki said, clasping my arm as she led me out of the studio. "You wanted to say Touma, didn't you? And not Touma Megumi, I bet…"

"I'm under-dressed for an expensive restaurant," I said, desperately trying to change the subject. Can she read my damned mind? "Can I change, first?"

"Oh, you're fine," Chiaki said. "Hoodies and jeans are the Silicon Valley business uniform, in case you didn't realize. And she asked me to bring the 'authentic you' along, anyway. If I tried to gussy you up, she'd give me endless shit. Now, hop along, be sexy, and try not to let your wonderful dick fall right into her pussy. At least not without letting me watch."

We walked together from the front of Roble Gym to Santa Teresa street, where another black Bentley Continental GX waited for us. Seeing our approach, the driver got out and held the door open for us. Chiaki and I entered, much to the curiosity of passing student onlookers, and we sped off toward Campus Drive and to the highway north.

In under two hours, the Bentley deposited us in front of Benu, which was nearly smack dab in city center, near the Yerba Buena gardens and the SFMOMA. A part of me felt some relief when I realized that this place served Asian cuisine. If the portions were proper, then I'd be satisfied.

"Sennouchi-sama, right this way," the hostess said in Japanese, after bowing deeply to Chiaki. I'd forgotten, due to the somewhat insular environment of Stanford University, just how much star power Chiaki possessed. And whoever we were meeting was obviously rich, powerful, or both, since we bypassed the usual tables and went straight to a lush, private dining room in the back complete with tatami floors. I almost forgot to take my shoes off, much to my distress. I'd only been a month or two in America, but now, this environment felt strangely foreign to me.

The CEO of Kaiousha America, Kazaoka Mari, sipped from a cup of $900-a-bottle imported rare junmai daiginjo and motioned for us to sit. My father was editor-in-chief of Kaiousha's flagship Japanese periodical, and she had once been his direct supervisor during his first year at the publication. Her name regularly appeared on lists of "Fifty Under Fifty" when it came to innovative and powerful young executives whose business moves shook markets and determined the destinies of entire countries. And, to my surprise, she was unexpectedly, breathtakingly beautiful.

"Mari-mari!" Chiaki said, as she shuffled around to Mari's side of the table, and, to my horror, wrapped arms around her shoulders and kissed her right on the mouth.

"Chiaki!" Mari growled in Japanese, pushing her off. "Enough! You're not even drunk. Or are you?"

"I just wanted a quick smooch from my favorite capitalist, nyah," Chiaki mewed.

"Roll over and show me your belly," Mari snorted. "I'll consider petting you if you behave."

"Better not," Chiaki said, shuffling back over to my side. "My boyfriend here will get jealous. He might even push me down and have his way with me to reassert himself, you know?"

"I'm not her boyfriend," I blurted out, and realized that I'd just violated several norms of Japanese and American business etiquette. Damn it, Chiaki! I switched to Japanese. I'd have preferred English, since this was America, but I would speak whatever Mari wished. "My sincere apologies. I failed to introduce myself. I am Kitahara Yujiro, a first-year student at Stanford University, in the Department of Theater and Performance Studies."

Mari took another sip of her sake, draining the small cup. "Believe it or not, I held you when you were a tiny baby, Kitahara-kun. You've grown up to be…" she gave me a mysterious smile. "Extremely handsome."

Don't get flustered. "Thank you, Kazaoka-shacho," I replied, without betraying any hint of how perturbed I actually was. It was difficult for me to believe that she was in her late forties.

"And now you're the poster actor for 'Rent,' which we've asked the Jormungandr Troupe to perform for the Ambassador. How are preparations coming along?"

"I'd say they're going quite well," I replied. "Our cast is both talented and hard-working. The script is a fresh new vision that will excite contemporary audiences and address modern concerns. We have wonderful music direction, as well. You'll be pleased to know that Touma Kazusa-sensei is conducting the pit orchestra and playing the piano. It will be a show worthy of your company's investment."

As a former president of the Houjou Theater Club, I was used to pitching our shows to potential investors. Half of theater work was trying to raise money, after all.

Mari nodded, seemingly pleased. "How did you get Touma Kazusa to perform for you?"

"Her daughter is playing the role of Mimi and arranged the score. I think Touma-sensei is participating out of pure interest, and that will make for a riveting night for our audience."

What I'd said was partly bullshit, as I wasn't sure if Megumi would even continue to participate after the stunt Chiaki pulled. But my job was to fundraise, not let Mari see our dirty laundry.

Mari glanced at her empty sake cup. I quickly got the hint, and carefully poured another helping of sake for her, as well as for Chiaki. I was the most junior individual in the room, after all. My business etiquette hadn't all gone to hell.

"I've seen 'Rent' before," Mari said. "It was quite popular in Japan when I was a teenager. I have fond memories of going to the live shows. The actor who played Tom Collins was particularly handsome and had an amazing voice. Unfortunately, I can't exactly ask you to sing something for me in this restaurant."

"I look forward to singing for you during the show, then," I said.

"We should order," Mari said, chuckling.

So far, things seemed to have gone smoothly, despite Chiaki's earlier abandonment of all decorum and common sense. Still, I wished I'd known Chiaki had brought me here to schmooze with the CEO of Kaiousha America.

Fortunately, I was more familiar with the food offerings at this restaurant than I had been at Quince, and ordered a sensible number of old favorites. If nothing else, I could be sure they'd taste as I expected, instead of being mystery sauce. Still, eating in front of a CEO had its own challenges, and thus I was unable to take full enjoyment from the meal. We conversed, mainly in superficial pleasantries and small talk, while I told her stories about my father's activities as of late.

At the end of our meal, Mari cast a sidelong glance at Chiaki. "I like him," she said. "Enough that you've convinced me not to cancel the show."

I raised an eyebrow. "Pardon me for asking, Kazaoka-shacho, but why would you need to cancel the show?"

Mari drained her sake cup. I prepared to pour for her again, but she signaled for me to stop. "In truth, Kitahara-kun, the script that Chiaki submitted is far too controversial to show the Japanese ambassador and other members of the Diet, who will also be in attendance. It is a direct, scathing indictment of how our society treats people on the fringes. The writer pulled no punches."

I inhaled and slowly exhaled. "And do you disagree with Morikawa-senpai's assessment?"

Mari shook her head. "Don't get me wrong. Privately, I agree with Morikawa-san. And artistically, his script is a thing of dazzling beauty. I should know, since my job is to promote beautiful media of all kinds. But our goal is not to cause needless disruption. If the Ambassador and the Diet members are offended or think you're calling them out, do you know how hard it will make things on Kaiousha?"

"I understand that you have a responsibility to protect your company," I said.

"Hence, I thought about calling the whole thing off. There are other forms of entertainment we could easily put on for them."

"May I ask, then, why you decided against cancellation?"

Mari fixed an inscrutable expression at me. "Because I'm interested in you. I want to see what kind of show you'll put on."

"I will not disappoint you, Kazaoka-shacho," I said, bowing at the waist to her. "Thank you for taking a risk for our small troupe."

"I'm afraid my time runs short," Mari said, "But here. Take my information. I may reach out to you, later."

With that, she held her phone out to me. Why is a CEO giving me her personal contact info? I wondered, but realized that I'd be a complete fool to decline. I hurriedly took out my phone and held it close to hers. They vibrated to confirm the swap.

"Mari-mari," Chiaki teased. "You're really cute when you're horny!"

Mari, stone-faced, rolled her eyes at Chiaki. "Enjoy the rest of your night," she said, and left.

Once I was sure she was out of earshot, I looked over at Chiaki. "Professor, what the hell was this all about? I could've used some preparation!"

"You did fine, nyah," Chiaki said, and drained the remaining sake right from the bottle.

"She was going to cancel our show! If you wanted me to defend it better, you should have—"

"I had faith in mew," Chiaki said, pawing at me again. Finally, she laid down on the tatami, with her head in my lap.

"Professor, please get up," I said. "Also who's taking care of the check? This meal was like, over two-thousand dollars…"

"Shitty brat," Chiaki said, rolling onto her side to bury her head in my midsection. "CEOs and celebrities don't get checks. Our people just take care of it. Mari-mari's people arranged this meeting weeks in advance. So don't be so uptight! Just enjoy life's ups and laugh at its downs!"

"Speaking of which, did you really have to comment about her horniness?"

Chiaki reached up and poked one of my nipples through my shirt. "She was giving you 'fuck me' eyes through the whole dinner, silly! If she weren't such a rigid sort, she'd be banging you in one of the stalls right now."

"It's easy to perceive things wrongly when you're so distorted yourself, Professor."

Chiaki chuckled and leered back up at me. "I could suck your dick dry right here while the waitstaff bussed our table, and no one would bat an eye or say a word. Want me to?"

Fucking celebrities, I thought, shaking my head. They really did live in a completely different world. Sensing my growing erection, Chiaki again rolled over and raked her teeth against my cock through my pants.

"I want it, but at least…at least wait until we're back at your place," I told her.

It was shameful, but since I'd been dumped by Kazusa, I hadn't found any release. I'd been avoiding Chiaki in an effort to reduce my dependence on her, but I was in need of succor.

That night, I fucked her repeatedly, and I fucked her hard. I engraved myself on her, clumsily and inartistically, trying in vain to staunch the bleeding wounds that Kazusa had inflicted because she loved me so much. Like AZT, Chiaki was a dangerous and fickle drug with side effects worse than most diseases. And yet in that moment, I needed her for my survival.

#

"Oh, Yuji-san," Aslatiel said, breaking away for a moment from the visual novel he was playing. He lifted his headphones. "Are you going to Full Moon on the Quad, tonight?"

I looked up at him from where I sat on my bed, typing away at my CS homework. "I wasn't planning on it," I said.

For once, our shared space looked and felt like a regular college dorm room was supposed to. My weaboo roommate sat at his desk hacking away at a chuunige, while I saw cross-legged on my bed at my laptop, trying to get through a CS problem set. It had been a few days since my encounter with Kazaoka Mari, and I'd finally settled into a normal, humdrum life rhythm. I hadn't gone back to Kazusa's place since I'd woken up with Megumi after the rainstorm, either.

"You should totally go, Yuji-san," Aslatiel insisted. "This is like, a super famous event. Even people in Kazakhstan know about it!"

"Isn't that just going around drunk and kissing a bunch of people on the Quad?"

"Hell yeah!" Aslatiel said, pumping a fist. "I've been looking forward to this for a long time. Just go with me, bro!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Why do you want me to go with you so badly?"

"Because, dude, it only works if you go with another guy!"

"I thought your goal was to kiss girls at this thing," I said.

"Yuji-san, do you have any 'game' in your body? No girl will go up to a guy by his lonesome and smooch him. That's hella sketchy!"

"Women don't like roving packs of men."

"They don't, but a pair is ideal. You know most girls there are gonna be with a buddy. Trust me, bro, I've planned out our strategy and everything."

"Why can't you go with your sister?"

"Because then all the girls will assume we're a couple, and I won't get any action. Last thing I wanna do is spend my precious youth holding Luca's hair back while she pukes everywhere. Then she'll make me rub her down in the shower, and who has time for that?"

I was a fool to desire a normal existence, I thought, somberly. "Fine, fine, I'll go. But I'm not gonna stick around too long. This problem set's due soon, and I'm not making any headway."

And if I wasn't getting anywhere fast with this, then neither was Megumi. I hadn't really talked with her since our last class with Chiaki, when our incorrigible drama professor had suddenly announced that Megumi would be playing Mimi in 'Rent.' I considered calling her up to see how she fared on her homework, and to check on how she was doing. I stopped, though. She's not my girlfriend or anything…

"Thanks, Yuji-san," Aslatiel said. "I'm gonna bust out my haori and kimono for this. Ladies gotta see me looking my best. You gonna wear yours?"

"I didn't bring mine over," I said. "I'll just go as I am."

"You sure? You can borrow my backup set."

"No thanks," I said, shaking my head.

Eventually, we both readied ourselves to meet our destiny as young college men in the flower of youth. Aslatiel, true to his word, had arranged himself in high-quality formal clothing worthy of a Japanese state function. Meanwhile, I'd made sure to brush my hair and use mouthwash. We certainly weren't the only ones preparing to head out to this purportedly famous event, either. Practically the whole dorm had started toward the Main Quad, creating a festival-like atmosphere that illuminated the night. A good many of them were already quite drunk and high.

"Listen," Aslatiel said, as we approached the Quad, "if my sister sees us, she's gonna wanna glom on me all night. Your job is to block her, okay?"

"How? I'm not going to outmaneuver an Olympic gold medalist fencer."

"You don't have to. Just kiss her while I slip away. She loves Japanese guys. Then we'll regroup. We have each others' cell numbers, so just text me once she wanders off."

"You thought of everything, didn't you?" I said, chuckling.

"I have to," Aslatiel said. "I'm a future monarch, remember? If I can't manage my annoying-but-enticing sister, how I am gonna manage threats from Russia and China?"

"Good point," I said.

If the way to the Quad had reminded me of a midnight festival, then the inside of the Quad was a full-blown party. Around us, tipsy students stumbled around, giving each other sloppy kisses while trying not to trip over the rapidly-accumulating piles of trash and pools of vomit spreading everywhere. America continued to get more American by the second.

A woman in a bikini top and hot pants immediately wrapped her arms around my shoulders and licked the side of my face. Her breath stank of bourbon. "Jungkook! Pleash marry me! I love you so mush!"

"Sorry, I'm not a member of BTS," I said.

"Are you sure? You look just like him!"

"Nope, not even Korean," I said, chuckling as I gently pushed her off. She pouted and beelined away in the direction of the next Asian guy in the crowd.

"You should've said you were with them!" Aslatiel said, in disbelief.

"I'm not gonna pretend to be a KPop star to get drunk chicks," I said. "You know, so far this event kinda sucks."

"Easy for you to say," Aslatiel said, sorrowfully. "I haven't been assaulted yet! Where's my drunk-ass fujoshi?"

My phone buzzed, signaling a text. To my surprise, it was from Megumi. "Whur R U?!" my screen angrily declared.

I texted her back. "In the Quad. You?"

"Fukker Ill find U & whn I find U Im gonna eat U"

"Sounds delightful," I texted back, and put my phone away. At least Megumi seemed to be acting like herself.

"Ladies, please, contain your orgasms," Aslatiel tittered, as a group of girls passed by without paying any regard. He sighed and shook his head. "It's hard, being a monarch like me."

"Nii-san! There you are!" I heard a woman say. I turned my head to the voice, and realized that his sister, Lucatiel, was practically right next to me. I jumped back in surprise—I hadn't sensed her approach at all. She was just as strikingly hot as the first time I'd seen her, and wore tight leather booty shorts and thigh boots, with a top that showed off way too much under-boob.

"Shit!" Aslatiel croaked. "Yuji-san! The plan!"

"Hey," I said, holding out a hand. "Long time no see—"

Lucatiel swept my legs with one of her own, sending me into free-fall. But before I could hit the ground, she firmly caught me in her arms. My head snapped back, and just as I comprehended what had happened, her lips pressed against mine, followed by her tongue. My senses grew faint, both from the sudden change in my center of gravity, as well as from the intoxicating effect of her deep kiss. Just before I surrendered to the void, she broke contact and pulled me to my feet.

"I love Japanese food," she said, licking her lips.

I tottered around in a daze. "Don't you mean you love Japanese guys?"

"Men are food," she said. She took my hand and pulled me along for a few steps before clamping her hand on Aslatiel's quivering shoulder. He'd probably planned on blending in with the crowd, but his choice of elaborate formal wear had betrayed him. "Nii-san, you weren't trying to escape me just now and kiss some slatterns, were you?"

"Uh, n-no…" he meeped.

"What a wonderful onii-san I have," she purred. "Well, come on! Let's enjoy the night! Your roomie can be our third wheel for a bit, if you want."

"As you command, imouto-chan," Aslatiel said, his shoulders slumping.

Inside, I laughed. This was probably the best outcome my benighted roommate could have hoped for tonight.

For a while longer, we milled around the Quad, following no set agenda. To Aslatiel's chagrin, the people around us treated his sister and him as a couple, and didn't bother approaching either of them. I received quite a few more slobbery kisses from screaming KPop fans, and got groped more times than I cared for. Lucatiel pointed and laughed in a way that reminded me of Megumi. I kept an eye out for her, but didn't catch even a glimpse.

A small crowd had formed in the middle of the existing crowd. Something was amiss, and I wasn't sure what it was. All I saw was a long line of students queuing up for something or someone, which was unusual for this type of event. As was our natural tendency as humans, the three of us joined the line.

"Seriously, is anything special going on?" I asked Aslatiel.

"Not a clue," he said. "This isn't any kind of official, sanctioned event. It's just a famous tradition, as far as I know."

Lucatiel rejoined us, having stepped out of line to scout for a few moments. "There's apparently an ultra-hot guy at the center of this, and everyone wants to bone him."

Aslatiel threw his hands up. "What the fuck? I'm not wasting time waiting in line to kiss some dude!"

"What if I want to kiss him?" Lucatiel asked.

"Then don't lose your spot in line," Aslatiel said. "I'm gonna bow out. Seeya later, imouto-chan!"

"Oh no, you're not," Lucatiel said, grabbing the collar of his haori. "Who knows how much trouble you'll get into if I'm not minding you? You'll make some poor girl pregnant and we'll have a succession crisis on our hands!"

"At this rate, I'll never make anyone pregnant!" he cried.

Someone slapped my ass. I turned, irate, only to see Megumi standing behind me.

"What were you doing? Hiding from me?" she asked, crossly. She wore a similar party outfit to when I'd seen her at Phi Psi, with a miniskirt and corset top, along with that costume biker cap I'd originally seen her in during our first meeting.

"I wasn't hiding," I said. "You said you'd find me, after all."

"You could've searched harder for me, you dingus."

"I would have, but we all got sucked into a sexy black hole or something," I said, gesturing to the line we moved along in. "Is that what you're here for?"

"Eh, I don't give a crap about that," Megumi said. "Bishounen are annoying."

"Then leave," I scoffed.

"Not without you," she said. "I need help on my homework. I can't understand any of it! Why is Sacchan such a fucking sadist?"

"Why are you calling her 'Sacchan?' Isn't that a bit rude?" I said.

"Because she said I could," Megumi said, proudly. "We talked for a long time after Sennouchi Akira pulled that crap on me. She also gave me a few acting lessons during office hours. Can you believe no one goes to those? I'd be there every single time if I didn't have band shit to do. You're slacking, by the way. You haven't gone to office hours, either. She notices."

"I never thought you'd turn into a teacher's pet," I sniffed.

"I'm trying to fuck her, dude. I need to show her my incredibly sexy brain."

"I'm sure it's extremely smooth."

"Thanks, I appreciate it!" She smiled innocently at me.

"So, did you decide? Will you play Mimi on stage?"

She sighed. "I guess. After all, Saeko taught me so much. She'd better not completely hetero! It would ruin my fucking year."

"I'm just glad to hear you'll act," I said. "After all, I promised the CEO of Kaiousha America that you'd be Mimi."

She stomped her foot. "Asshole! You can't just sell me to some corpo! I'm a free man on the land! I don't recognize your silly admiralty court!"

"But do you consent to joinder?" someone asked us.

I turned my head and looked. We were at the front of the line, now. Sitting on a folding chair like some kind of modern prince, and attended to by two fawning attendants, was a blond-haired man with a waifish figure, dressed in a stylish suit. And to my surprise, he was indeed stunningly attractive. It was enough to make me understand why Lucatiel was stumbling away drunkenly with her face red as a beet, mumbling to herself about 'Tenshi-sama.'

"Fuck me!" Megumi said. "He's super hot!"

"Your turn, Drum Major," the prince (and not Aslatiel) said, and beckoned to Megumi.

As if possessed, Megumi shuffled up to him. The Prince rose from his chair, gently placed his hands on her waist, and pressed his lips to hers. At this, Megumi tensed—in pleasure, as opposed to shock—and wiggled in happiness. Then, the prince whispered something in her ear that made her seemingly melt into a puddle right in front of him. Seeing this, I couldn't help but feel a rising surge of jealousy. Sure, Megumi had kissed me, but not this easily. Calm the fuck down. She's not your girlfriend, and you don't even want her to be your girlfriend.

"Come on, Meg," I said, shaking my head as I walked up to scoop her into a bucket. "You had your fun, now let's go do our homework."

"But what about your turn?" the prince asked me, giving an enchanting smile.

"It's…" My mouth was dry. "It's cool, I'm pretty straight. Thanks, though. I'll be taking her now."

"But I wanna have some fun," Megumi said, sticking her tongue out at me. "We're gonna head somewhere more private."

Don't get flustered. I shrugged. "Alright, see you at rehearsal, then."

"Hold on," the prince said. "Why don't you come along with us?"

"I told you, I'm not into guys. And I'm not into seeing my…" I gave him a flinty stare, "…friend being fucked by some random dude whose name I don't even know."

"Call me Tenshi," he said, and drew in so his lips brushed my ear. "By the way, I'm a woman. I'm just cross-dressing. It's really cute that you're so upset right now. Are you sure she's just a friend?"

"Oh…" I said, taken aback. I looked away. "Well, it makes no difference to me, anyway. Take her and do what you wish."

"Do you truly mean it?" Tenshi said. "You hate the idea, I can tell. Why don't you enjoy watching us? I think Megumi will enjoy it more. She's an exhibitionist, in addition to being a voyeur."

I grumbled. This wasn't like me. I wasn't supposed to feel possessive about, of all people, Touma Megumi. The logical and surface-level answer to this was that I felt this way due to her similarity to Kazusa. But I had to concede, painfully, that her appearance was not the only answer.

"Fine, I'll come along."

#

Wordlessly, I took Megumi by the hand, while Tenshi took me by the hand. We snaked our way out the bustling Quad, and made our way toward the Pearce Mitchell condos. Chiaki was away for the weekend to film some parts for an upcoming horror flick, which is why I'd been at my dorm room in the first place. I unlocked the door to Chiaki's condo, and we stepped in and made our way to the bedroom.

Chiaki never made her bed, of course, so the sheets and comforters were in total disarray, like usual. It didn't stop Tenshi and Megumi from sliding onto the bed while kissing each other deeply. I watched, increasingly transfixed, as Tenshi expertly undid Megumi's corset and let it fall away to expose her breasts. Then, she started to suck on them while Megumi giggled and writhed in glee.

Megumi, in the meantime, unbuckled Tenshi's pants and pulled them to her knees, exposing her fully. Tenshi clearly waxed, as her twin mounds were bare and smooth, with a flash of enticing pink between. Megumi slipped a finger into Tenshi's slit and started to rub in long, aggressive sweeps.

The sight unfolding before me made my manhood throb. Well, they wanted me to watch, so I might as well, I thought, and freed myself from the constraint of my pants. In the meantime, both women on the bed had wrestled their bottoms off entirely. Megumi was naked except for her fishnet stockings, but Tenshi still kept her shirt and suit jacket on.

Megumi laid on the bed with her legs spread and facing the headboard, while her head was just off the edge of the bed. Tenshi went down on her, while thrusting a pair of fingers in and out of her pussy. Megumi tensed and writhed, and beckoned to me. I'd been sitting on a nearby chair jacking off to the sight.

"Fuck my mouth, Yuji," Megumi said.

"Is that okay?" I asked.

"If it wasn't okay, I wouldn't have asked!" she gasped, as her back arched under Tenshi's attack.

I carefully stepped forward, leaned over, and put the head of my penis near her lips. She opened her mouth and took me in. There wasn't a lot she could actively do in her position, so it was up to me to move. I didn't wish to make her gag, so I only made slow half-thrusts, and took care not to ram my cock down her throat. She wasn't as experienced as Chiaki was, after all. While I gently face-fucked Megumi, I caught a glimpse of Tenshi's face as she came up for air from Megumi's pussy. Her features were both nothing I'd seen before, but also quite familiar, for some reason.

Megumi squeezed her legs together as she abruptly came. Inadvertently, she scraped her teeth against the base of my penis, prompting me to withdraw in a hurry. "Whoops," she said, giving me a half-smile, half-sneer. "Almost bit it off!"

"Please don't even joke about that," I said, shaking my head. Even the suggestion of castration was enough to blunt my erection.

"Your turn," Tenshi said, and laid back on the bed with her legs spread. She stirred at her clitoris with a pair of fingers, and spread her lips wide. Megumi got on her belly, inched forward, and thirstily lapped at Tenshi's slit while fingering her own pussy. Her juices slowly leaked out onto Chiaki's sheets. Tenshi ran her fingers through Megumi's hair and gave her instructions on where to lick and how much pressure to apply with her tongue. This was likely the first time Megumi had serviced another woman.

The sight of Megumi eating another woman out while pleasuring herself was enough to bring my boner back with full strength. I stroked myself as I watched. Megumi hadn't told me that it was okay to penetrate her otherwise, so I held off. Eventually, Tenshi threw her head back as she came, and Megumi quivered in pleasure at the sight. Tenshi beckoned for Megumi to get closer, and rewarded her with a deep kiss. Then, she gently flipped Megumi over so her back faced Tenshi's front. She put a hand between Megumi's legs and rubbed at her clitoris. Her other hand caressed and played with Megumi's breasts.

"Do you want to finish him off?" Tenshi asked Megumi.

Megumi nodded. "Stand close to me, Yuji," she said.

I did as commanded. Megumi raised her legs and carefully cupped my erect cock between the soles of her feet. Then, she rocked her legs back and forth, jacking me off.

I'd never really been a credible foot fetishist, and the kink had never really been something I independently sought out, but I had to admit that the sight and sensation of her giving me a footjob was unexpectedly highly exciting. It felt different from someone's hand, mouth, or vagina. Her feet were pleasant to behold—not bony or pudgy, but instead well-defined, and without any calluses or cracked spots. As her legs moved, her breasts jiggled, and I found myself torn between staring at her quivering mounds, her dripping pussy, or her shapely feet. Soon, I felt the telltale wave of pressure build from my groin and spread out toward my head and my toes.

"Megumi, I'm going to come," I groaned.

"Then come already," she said, sticking her tongue out at me.

I grunted and tensed while my cock spasmed and shot a lengthy white glob right into the center of her chest. It splattered when it hit her, and sent droplets all over her breasts, her stomach, and her face. I continued to empty myself all over her body, even landing a stray drop or two on her hair. A rivulet of white oozed from her belly button to her pussy and soaked into her pubic hair.

I collapsed to all fours onto the mattress. The sensation had been exhilarating, and now I was nearly spent. Tenshi extricated herself from underneath Megumi and kissed her again. I regarded our new addition while Megumi luxuriated on Chiaki's top-quality Egyptian cotton sheets and idly licked my semen off her skin.

"Now that we've gotten to know each other a little better," I asked, "can you tell us your real name?"

Tenshi smiled and shook her head. "Honestly, I'm both pleased and displeased."

"Why?"

"Pleased that I was able to disguise myself so effectively that it fooled you. And a little aghast that you were fooled in the first place."

"I don't follow."

Tenshi laughed, then reached up and removed the blond wig she wore. Underneath, her hair was tightly bound in a net. She took one of the Chiaki's nearby strewn-around bath towels and scrubbed the makeup off her face, then removed the net entirely. Familiar-looking black strands of hair poured out over her shoulders and cascaded down her chest as she shook them out. "Yuji," she said, in what I realized was her real voice. "You'd better recognize me now, or there's something horribly wrong with you."

I swallowed back my saliva as I realized who I'd just come all over Megumi in front of. "Saeko."