HOMEROOM and the day’s classes ended without incident. After saying goodbye to Honomi, who had business in the staff room, I headed toward the entrance with Mao. She had already changed into her gym clothes, and as we turned onto the staircase, we were halted by a familiar voice.
“Kitazawa!”
I recognized that grin. It belonged to the tennis club president. Sakai, was it?
“I heard from Towada. I’m so glad you’re fine,” he said.
“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” I replied.
“Back off, Sakai,” said Mao. She planted her hands firmly on her hips and puffed out her chest. “Last time I checked, Haruka was my friend, not yours.”
Are they friends? She certainly was speaking as if to one.
Noticing my confusion, she elaborated. “This guy lives near me. We went to the same kindergarten and elementary school.”
“Whoops, I never introduced myself, did I?” Sakai said. “The name’s Yuuto Sakai. Back in elementary school I was the class president, and Kagami here was my deputy.”
Ah, they were childhood friends—that made sense.
As I nodded along, Sakai’s expression abruptly shifted to one of sadness. “And it was awful, just awful! Can you imagine receiving letters and Valentine’s chocolates from girls, getting all excited only to be asked to pass them on to Kagami? Seriously, it was the worst!” he lamented in mock despair, palms raised in a shrug.
Mao countered with a theatrical sigh of her own. “Yeah, like I had it any better. You know how many times I was asked for you specifically?”
Wow, they’d both been popular. I wasn’t surprised.
“Right, right.” Sakai turned to me. “So that first year who hit the ball at you yesterday? He’s on ball boy duty for a month. And he can’t even touch a racket unless he’s on the court.”
“That seems a bit harsh, no?” I was taken aback, but both Sakai and Mao seemed to find the punishment appropriate. “It’s not like he did it on purpose, right?”
“There’s a standing rule against hitting balls toward the planters or buildings,” Sakai clarified. “Which is only an issue because the grounds are so cramped. Ah, what I wouldn’t do for a bigger lawn and two more tennis courts.”
“Good joke,” snorted Mao. “Two more tennis courts? Try an actual track for the track-and-field club.”
Their conversation devolved into playful tit-for-tat. And as entertaining as it was to listen to, I was sure Mao wouldn’t appreciate being late for practice. “Um, don’t you two have somewhere to be?”
Just like that, they froze, then made a mad dash for the shoe lockers.
“See ya tomorrow, Haruka! Hey! Sakai! No running in the halls!”
Sakai flashed a cheeky smile. “Bye, Kitazawa!”
Watching them leave, jockeying with each other as they went, I was struck by how similar they were. Once they vanished from view, I slipped on my shoes and strode outside. A quick scan of the area showed no sign of Towada. Perhaps class 5’s homeroom was running late.
I shifted to the side, leaning against the fence next to the school gate. I gazed up at the clear blue sky. Doubt began to creep into my mind, leading me to question my handling of the whole situation.
“Did I make the right call?” I muttered aloud.
Cookies disappearing without a trace, chores completed with no one claiming responsibility. It was all so incredibly far-fetched, yet I could no longer dismiss the occurrences as mere imagination. I’d sought Towada that morning, unable to shake off our conversation in the nurse’s office. As his hesitant words echoed again and again in my head, I turned, my back resting against the world and my hands clutching the railing.
He seemed to know something. But what did he know? And even if he did, that didn’t automatically give me the right to the knowledge as well. Absently, I glanced down to see that my feet had instinctively assumed a ballet pose.
What the… Well, that was strange. The moment my hands touched the railing, my legs had moved of their own accord. Muscle memory is a powerful thing indeed.
Strange and new: I’d never realized that although I’d given up ballet, my body hadn’t.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“Wah! Oh, jeez, it’s just you.” Towada’s sudden voice had knocked me out of my thoughts. I could only hope that my reaction hadn’t come across as rude.
I looked up, half expecting him to seem annoyed, but he appeared merely rather stern. “Was it that much of a surprise to see me?” he asked. “Sorry, I had to stop by the teachers’ office to drop off the class log.”
“No, sorry. I was just spaced out.” Towada was wearing his uniform instead of sports attire, which was odd considering that Sakai had just sprinted off to club practice. “Don’t you have club?” I asked.
“I took the day off,” he said. “Can we go to your place? There’s a lot to talk about and I’d rather not do it here.”
“Oh, um, sure.”
“Okay, then let’s go.”
The shouts and grunts from the athletic fields behind me seemed louder than usual—or was that just my conscience berating me for causing Towada to skip practice two days in a row? I felt somewhat uneasy as we retraced our steps from the day before in total silence.