I read the president’s message on my way to the bike parking lot. My parents had found out about my new biking habit after last semester’s training arc and wouldn’t renew my train pass.
“School tomorrow,” I sighed. The president had summoned us, despite it being a holiday. Seeing as I was president of the lit club, maybe the student council would be open to subcontracting my services if we ultimately did go kaput. Options to consider.
When I arrived at the lot, I found on the back of my two-wheeled partner a creature most cute. It was Shiratama-san.
I stopped a ways away. “Thought you went home.”
“Forgot a little something.” Always with that perfect smile. Was this my reckoning for leaking her personal details to the student council? “What’re you waiting for? Aren’t you going home?”
“Uh, yeah. I am.” I looked down and sped past.
“This is your bike, isn’t it?”
“Oh. Guess it is. Must be early onset dementia.” I didn’t make it far. Even after I removed the lock, the creature remained where she was. “Shiratama-san?”
“President?” Smile. I smiled back. It wasn’t as perfect.
Any more of this and I could kiss my pride as a senpai goodbye. All I’d done was share my plight with trustworthy friends, with her permission. It wasn’t like I was shouting her business from the mountain tops. I had nothing to apologize for.
“I’m a little mad at you, you know,” she said.
“I’m sorry.”
Remember, kids. There’s nothing wrong with admitting fault.
“I opened up to you because I trusted you,” I heard her continue over my lowered head.
“But you, um, said I could tell people.”
“I meant the people who mattered. The people I involved. I can’t possibly imagine how you interpreted that to mean I was okay with you giving the student council the full scoop.”
Fair. Very fair. I had no response. Kept my head low.
Eventually, I heard her laugh. “Stop that. I’m not really that mad.”
“I mean, you’re right to be.”
“I’m just being a little dramatic because I thought it would be our secret.” She finally got off my bike, raising clenched fists excitedly up to her chest. “A lot of people are coming together to make this happen. I’m so ready.”
“W-well, let’s not be hasty!” I flinched back a few steps.
She closed the distance. I smelled something milky and sweet. “You’ll finish what you started, won’t you?” Long eyelashes fluttered over her round eyes. Words as quiet as whispers passed through small, pink lips. “It’s what a man would do.”
✦ ✦ ✦
I wiped the sleep from my eyes. It was the next morning. A holiday. We had no business being here in the club room, and yet we were. “We” being me, Yanami, Shiratama-san, and a fourth looking awfully imposing with her cross-armed power stance.
“Is this everyone?” asked the student council president. “There was one more yesterday.”
“Komari was in the window earlier. She ran. Continue,” I told her.
She nodded, then smacked a piece of paper on the whiteboard she’d wheeled in. Written on it, in old-school brush ink, was “‘Shiratama Riko Strikes Back’ Operational Headquarters.”
Shiratama-san timidly raised her hand. “What, um, is all that about?”
“That, my friend, is my grandmother’s handiwork. She’s a certified calligrapher.” It did look pretty nice, but I doubted that was what Shiratama-san meant. The president snapped open a folding chair and dropped herself onto it in one motion. “Let’s begin the strategy meeting. What have you concocted thus far? How much have you prepared?”
“Um…”
“We’ve only just decided on an objective,” I answered on Shiratama’s behalf. “We don’t have any specifics yet.”
The president nodded and placed a sheet of paper on the table. “Then I suggest we call in an expert. I just happened to stumble upon this yesterday.”
The paper was a flyer. A shoddy one too. It read, “Tsuwabuki Investigative Advisor! For all your undercover needs!”
“What am I looking at?” Yanami grimaced, currently eating her second breakfast onigiri of the hour.
The flyer was littered with such buzz words as “confidential,” “guaranteed legal,” “free consultations,” and “patents pending.” I recognized the aesthetic. Scam-chic. The sort of thing you’d find on a telephone pole.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked.
“Positive. It’s an independent project of one of our students. Highly trustworthy.”
What student was getting up to junk like this? Scratch that. I could think of one candidate. But it couldn’t be.
The president glanced at the clock. “It’s nearly time for our appointment. I took the liberty of scheduling one on your behalf.”
“You what?”
A knock came with horrifying timing. The door crept open, and from its depths emerged someone I knew very well.
She gave a bow, forehead glistening in the morning light. “Thank you for your interest. Tsuwabuki Investigative Advisor Asagumo Chihaya, at your service. And this is…”
Another face I recognized emerged from behind her. “Nukumizu Kaju. Her assistant.”
The lit club girls looked right at me. But this wasn’t my fault. Was it?
…Was it?