Epilogue:
Tsuwabuki Second-Years
THE FIRST WEEKDAY OF APRIL MARKED THE END OF our tragically short spring break. Down a lonely hallway in the west annex, I walked to the usual spot. We had recruiting plans to discuss.
Orientation for first-years was coming up, and we had to put our best foot forward, but putting the onus of public speaking on me or Komari was asking for trouble. Our alternatives were the queen bees, and Yakishio, who’d officially changed to middle-distance running, had track. Figured we probably wouldn’t see her around the club too much if she planned on sweeping nationals, so using her felt a little disingenuous to prospective members.
I stopped in front of the door for a moment, just to switch gears mentally. Then I opened it.
“Yana-chan, that’s mine! Hands off my protein!”
“But it helps you lose weight, don’t it? I like it. Chocolate flavor’s good.”
“Do you think it has negative calories?!”
Huh. Yakishio was here. Fighting with Yanami over a protein shake apparently.
“What is going on here?” I asked.
They both whipped around to face me.
“Yana-chan’s drinking my protein!” Yakishio shouted. “Tell her to stop!”
“I’m sorry, but you know we can’t leave food in here. She eats literally everything, Yakishio.”
Komari nodded at me from the corner she was quietly reading in. Her idea of support.
“Hold up, I don’t appreciate you guys treating me like some animal,” Yanami protested. “I don’t eat everything.” My mistake. She ate most things.
“Doesn’t the track team have their own room?” I asked. “Why not leave that kinda stuff there?”
Yakishio shot up, kicking her chair back. “Don’t even get me started! They’re the actual worst! Get this!” Uh-oh. Was there bad blood after her long hiatus? She pouted. “They have this rule where any protein without a name is free game. I literally just bought this stuff, and it’s already half gone!”
“That sounds like a problem with an easy solution.”
She crossed her arms and twisted her lips. “You don’t get it. When a girl needs protein, she needs protein. It’s an accessibility issue.”
“Yo, there’s vanilla too?” Yanami commented. “The powder’s pretty good. I could take this straight.”
“You can’t just eat the friggin’ powder!”
Accessibility wasn’t an issue for Yanami, that was for sure. I waited for them to finish their little spat before continuing.
“Anyway,” I said, “can we talk about recruiting? I’ve got an idea for how to present our club.”
Yanami blinked. Her cheeks were a little dusty. “Are we, like, doing something for that?”
“Maybe. Where’s…? Here we go.” I found the paper bag I’d stashed in my school bag and handed it to her.
“What am I looking at?”
“Stick that on your head for me.”
“Why?”
A not unforeseen complication. I next placed a pack of plain chicken meant for salads in front of her. She nodded, accepted, then put the bag on. Not a bad look.
“So what’s happening?” she asked.
“I want you to do the presentation with that on. Thoughts, everyone?”
Komari and Yakishio studied my work carefully.
“M-maybe add a ribbon,” Komari suggested.
“What if we wrote messages on it like a cast or something?” added Yakishio.
“I like both those ideas. Let’s work them in.” I jotted them down in my notebook.
Yanami tore the bag off and threw it down. “Is anyone gonna tell me why we’re censoring my damn face?! Do we need a parental advisory too?!”
“Listen, literature clubs are introvert central. If our potential members see you…”
“If they see me, what? Go on.”
I had to phrase this carefully, because if I told her the truth, it’d go straight to her head. I cleared my throat. “You’re our secret weapon, Yanami-san. Less is more. We tickle their imaginations. Wouldn’t you be dying to know what’s underneath?”
“I’d be freaked the hell out mostly, if I’m being honest.”
“This is the demographic we’re working with. Ideally, you’d keep it on for the entire recruitment period.”
“Yeah, no!”
Negotiations had broken down. Time for the prez to step up.
“Hey, this is actually comfy.” Yakishio laughed. “I’m blind!”
And now Yakishio had the bag. Great. Wait, we could work with this. On her, it’d double as a cover for her being on the track team.
“Would you be willing to go up in that?” I asked. “Yanami-san, you can be, like, in one of the wings clicking castanets or something for ambience.”
“Wait,” Yanami interjected. “I’ll do it.” It was spreading. She pulled it off Yakishio’s head then plopped it over Komari’s, who squawked in response. “Screw it. Everyone gets paper bags. Let’s just do that.”
Not to be a hypocrite, but that’d just be freaky.
“I like that!” replied Freak Two, clapping in agreement. “We can be the Masked Lit Club.”
“B-but why, though?” Komari shrieked as she stood, completely blinded by the bag still on her head, and promptly fell. Why was she always cutest when she was screaming?
I sat. Took a metaphorical step back. This month, we’d be a club of solely second-years. We had a responsibility to our senpai to make something of it, and it was a weighty one to be sure. But we’d always figured something out in the end. Somehow. We’d figure this out too. Somehow. In our own lit club way. Just like the next generation would.
Suddenly, everything went black.
“I like that look on you, Nukumizu-kun.”
“Really pulls it off, doesn’t he? Nukkun’s a natural.”
“D-don’t take it off.”
Huh. I kinda got it now. It was comfy. Then the giggling and the shutter clicks started. I sighed.
It was the first weekday of April. The first of many, many long ones to come.