I shuddered as a droplet of water fell from the ceiling and onto my shoulder. The Houkobarus really were old school. A tiled bathroom? But hey, the bath itself was big enough to easily fit us both.
I’d finished washing off and was taking my turn to soak first. Man, did I need it after today. I sank down to my shoulders, stealing glances at Sakurai-kun’s back as he cleaned himself. The guy was slim. Which was how many people (typically Yanami) described me too, but for Sakurai-kun it was like, something with his bone structure. It simply wasn’t masculine. He wasn’t gonna turn around and turn out to be a flat-chested girl this whole time, was he?
He looked over his shoulder at me, summoning me back from my mental library of light novel scenarios. “You’re president of the literature club, right? Seems like a lot of work.”
“Maybe. Can’t be worse than keeping everyone on the student council in line.”
I saw him grin in the mirror at that. “They’re good people, really. Just need a little push in the right direction sometimes.”
A “little” sounded like an understatement to me. As far as the president went, it seemed to me she needed a leash more than anything. She and Sakurai-kun had gone to the same junior high, but just how had she survived at Tsuwabuki without him for that first year?
“The president was in track, right? Mind if I ask what made her quit?”
“It’s nothing that dramatic. No injuries or anything. She’d just done it for three years, made it to high school, and decided to put her all in the student council.” He held up a basin of water and dumped it over his body. “Granted, I’m sure there’s more to it than that. But sometimes you just need an excuse to make a change, and for Hiba-nee that happened to be high school.” He stepped into the bath and sank down next to me. “Why so interested in her all of a sudden?”
“More wondering what’s motivating her to go so far for us. I mean, I know she respects Yakishio and all that, but still.”
“Yakishio-san. I’ve heard a lot about her.” Sakurai-kun locked his fingers together and stretched. “I think maybe, looking back, she was one of the excuses. Not to bash her or anything. Not at all.”
Change. For many, clubs represented a second life, but we all had to retire eventually. For many, the excuse for change came with graduation. But not for all of us. Yakishio’s potential as a genuine athlete wasn’t for me to speak on, but to her teammates, she was probably one such person.
Sakurai-kun peeled his bangs from his forehead. “I meant to thank you, by the way. I haven’t seen Hiba-nee this excited since her running days.”
“Well, that makes me feel a little better about making her help me for so long. I was worried I was seriously pushing my luck with this sleepover idea.”
He smiled reassuringly. “She’s having a blast, I assure you. Hiba-nee never sets foot in the kitchen.”
Overturned pots of boiling liquid weren’t a daily occurrence then. Small reliefs.
“You look after her a lot, huh?” I asked.
“We’re cousins. Close ones. I could say the same thing about you and any one of the lit club members. Me? I could never go to this much trouble for just one person.”
“If you ask me, holding the entire student council together with those three sounds way harder than anything I put up with.”
Sakurai-kun chuckled. “Wanna swap places and find out?”
“What, like, I do student council work?”
“And I be the literature club president. You’ve got three other first-years, is that right?”
I pondered that idea. Quelling Tiara-san’s episodes. Staying Shikiya-san’s wandering hands. Keeping the president alive.
We looked at each other. The same two words came to our lips at the same time. “No thanks.”
✦ ✦ ✦
It was time for a strategy meeting. Tension mingled with sweet-smelling shampoo in the big room we’d gathered in. President Houkobaru had changed into pajamas and tied her hair back. Her flushed cheeks bore a tinge of pink. It never stopped surprising me how objectively pretty she was.
But staring was rude, so I turned my gaze down to the slug splayed out on the floor.
“You good there, Tiara-san?” I asked the creature.
“She got a little lightheaded in the bath,” the president said. “Tiara-kun, how are you feeling?”
“D-don’t call me Tiara,” she croaked in feeble protest. The tissues stuffed up her nostrils told me everything I needed to know about what happened in that bath. Not even her precious herbs had saved her.
Both she and Sakurai-kun were in their pajamas too. If this was a pajama party, I hadn’t gotten the memo and was not dressed appropriately. I noticed the sliding, paper door cracked open. Leering through was a pair of pale white eyes.
“Why didn’t…I get a bath buddy?” Shikiya-san silently stumbled in wearing her own nightly ensemble. It was a lacy nightgown with an extremely generous window of cleavage and oh my god was that underwear? It wasn’t exactly a negligee, though it definitely looked it. No, I knew this. According to my gacha, this was, to be precise, a babydoll.
“Senpai, what are you wearing?!” Tiara-san flew up from the floor and flung her hands in front of Shikiya-san’s chest.
Folly.
Shikiya-san, with opportunistic dexterity, pulled her into an embrace. “Tiara-chan… So lewd.”
“Th-they’re touching me! They’re touching my face!”
Hm. Should I have been watching this? Probably not. I was strictly free-to-play. Sakurai-kun had the same idea and looked away with me.
President Houkobaru produced a projector. “Now, let’s begin with a review. Hiroto, the lights.”
Really? Right now? During, uh, that going on in the background? Sure. All right. She was the boss. The lights went out, and footage of me running played against the flat, white wall.
“This is where you were at yesterday,” the president commentated. “Changing your starting position to a standing posture has helped your initial acceleration, and your upper body is much more stable. However…” She slowed the footage with her phone. Seeing me fumble through the finish line was pretty cringeworthy, I had to admit. “The final stretch is still a sticking point. You focus too much on speed and your form suffers. Your stamina is a concern as well.”
“Right. Hence my idea,” I said.
“Holding your breath in the last spurt. It’s certainly showed results in your form and time both.”
“I think it’s worth carrying into the actual race.”
The president frowned. Clearly, she didn’t share my enthusiasm. “I’ve implemented the same strategy in my starts before, but under careful supervision, and never lightly. It’s dangerous to work your body in unnatural ways before you’re comfortable with the way it works and moves. You could injure yourself.”
“Er, okay. Then maybe we forget it.”
Fine by me. I responded well to authority.
“No, actually. Out of the five races we ran, in the two you held your breath, you matched my pace. I see no reason you shouldn’t try it during the real thing, seeing as it won’t be prolonged.”
“Wait, really?”
She nodded. “That said, only during the final five meters. But you run those five meters as hard as you can. Your ankle sprains, you run. Your heart stops, you run.”
Bit of a jump there.
We kept watching and analyzing for a while. Around the time Sakurai-kun brought tea, I chanced a glance Tiara-san’s direction. There was no more fight in her. A limp corpse in Shikiya-san’s bosom.
“We’ve done all we can,” the president announced. “The rest is up to you.” She smiled and took a sip of her tea.
I took a gulp myself before returning her smile with an awkward one of my own. “It’s a shame I never ended up overtaking you. Never hit my goal.”
“Oh? I thought you knew. Anytime you came close to passing me, I sped up.”
What? No. No, I had not known that. “Wait, so you’re telling me…”
“You hit your goal long ago. It all hinges on how well Yakishio-kun’s done the same.” She downed the rest of her tea. “Now, we’ve an early morning. Rest up and sleep well for tomorrow. Use the futon in the closet.”
“Right. Let me get that.”
I checked the clock as I did. It was only just past eight. Bit early for my taste, but, well I wasn’t gonna argue. I responded well to authority.
✦ ✦ ✦
Unfamiliar shadows crept across an unfamiliar ceiling. I’d fallen asleep surprisingly fast. And woken up correspondingly early.
It was two in the morning. Next to me, Sakurai-kun was still snoozing soundly. There’d been a whole commotion over us sharing the room, thanks to someone whose name rhymed with “diara,” but frankly, I was ready to forget that whole episode.
Beyond the thin shoji sliding door, insects buzzed and hissed. Try as I might to let them lull me back to sleep, I was wide awake. Thinking about the race didn’t exactly put me in a restful state of mind either. So I gave up. I grabbed my phone for light and headed for the bathroom.
As I passed through the foyer on my way back, I remembered something the president had told me at dinner. “We don’t lock our doors around here. Not ever.”
It was apparently a point of pride for her. One not even Sakurai-kun seemed to understand. I certainly didn’t. But the point was, the front door was probably unlocked.
I slipped on my shoes and slid it open.