BEFORE I knew it, winter break ended and third trimester began. I was putting on my shoes after bidding farewell to Mao and Honomi for the day when a familiar voice sounded from behind me. “Haruka, you gettin’ out of here?”
It belonged to Mao’s childhood best friend and the tennis club’s captain, Sakai. Surprised, I answered, “Yeah. And uh, are you heading to practice?”
Dressed in his gym clothes, his tennis shoes dangling from his hand, he grinned and said, “Yep! Third trimester’s short, so gotta do what we can.” He dropped the sneakers with a clatter, then stepped into them and began to knot the laces.
“Really? Then good luck. I’ll see you tomor—”
“Hey, Haruka, have you decided on valentines yet?”
I froze. Valentines? Decided on? Decided on what? Also, did he just use my first name? My head full of questions, I turned to look at him. He was all smiles, eager to hear what I had to say. Before I could muster a response, a black notebook came down hard on his shoulder. Ah, Towada.
“What the hell are you doing?” demanded Towada, exasperated.
I glanced up at his unusually annoyed expression. Our eyes met—and he looked away quickly. That…hurt a little.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Sakai protested, “I was just curious what she was doing, that’s all.”
“I guess I’ll be giving some chocolate to my dad and brother, as I do every year?” I replied.
“Really? That’s great! Then it wouldn’t hurt to give some to us as wel— Ah! I’m sorry, don’t hit me.”
“You’re unbelievable,” growled Towada.
Sakai’s voice had started out strong but faded into a terrified squeak. Towada was threatening Sakai somehow but had disappeared behind him; I couldn’t glimpse his method.
“Why not, man?” Sakai needled. “Don’t you want chocolate?”
“Oh, you want chocolate, Sakai?” I asked.
“You don’t have to entertain a thing he has to say,” Towada retorted. Heaving a sigh, he moved to change his own shoes.
I mean, sure, that’s easy for you to say, but Sakai looks really expectant! Suddenly, I understood. “Oh, I get it! You want chocolate, but from Mao, right? I’ll tell her right away.”
I heard a vocalization of astonishment from Sakai and a sputter from Towada.
“Wait, wait, wait, let’s not be… Hm? Maybe this could work, actually?” mumbled Sakai incoherently as he made a speedy escape, dashing toward the athletic fields.
Thoroughly confused, I watched as he vanished from view. “Was I mistaken?”
“No, I don’t think you were,” Towada said. “Also, sorry.”
“For…what?” I eyed him, unnerved by the abrupt apology. His gaze was fixed on the floor, avoiding mine.
“Your scarf. I never returned it to you.”
Oh, that. I breathed an internal sigh of relief. “No worries. I have this one, see?” I fingered the red tartan scarf around my neck. Then, suddenly remembering the events of Christmas Eve, my face grew hot. We hadn’t really seen each other since then, I realized. Somehow even more embarrassed, I hurriedly lowered my eyes and, in doing so, caught sight of the navy-blue towel in his grip. “You’re using the towel!”
“Oh, yeah.”
Excited, I lifted my head and our eyes met once again. My embarrassment peaking impossibly higher, I averted my gaze hastily. My stupid heart was beating so loud! I’d never been so nervous, not even during ballet recitals. I dropped my hand to my chest to try to still its pounding.
“Kitazawa, I—”
His voice barely began before an icy shiver shot down the length of my spine. Something dark, ominous, seemed to stretch its fingers from the stairwell behind me, making my shoulders twitch and tremble. The world winked out of existence. All noise, the hum and murmur of life, even the frenetic pulse of my heart, was consumed by an eerie void. I couldn’t hear anything.
But I could feel it—something was there.
Something’s there?
The air grew oppressive as though I were being smothered under an invisible weight. The sensation was like those odd, surreal moments in childhood when, on vacation with family at the beach or while alone in the forest near Grandma’s house, one was seized by a strange isolation although loved ones were a shout away. A sense of experiencing the same scenery yet being worlds apart—tainted with overpowering foreboding, as if a jet-black hole of nothingness lay just over my shoulder, hungry and waiting.
The feeling was alien, a raw challenge to everything I held true.
My body moved on its own, starting an unwilling pivot toward the encroaching abyss. An abrupt, forceful tug on my arm pulled me off balance, and I staggered one step—two—before falling into Towada’s arms.
“Don’t look behind you.” His urgent whisper wove through the dense silence.
Though my head was pressed tight against his chest, his arms brushing my ears, I felt numb, distant. His voice filtered through once more: “No sudden moves. Just walk with me.”
I ventured a glance upward. His lips were opening and closing, but his voice seemed to lag behind. He stared firmly at whatever was behind me as he slowly, gently, backed us away. The instant we reached a shaft of sunlight, the shadow that gripped us faded.
Life roared back into my ears—the cadence of students training on the grounds, the thud of a baseball caught in a mitt, the dissonant notes of the school band as they rehearsed. As my heartbeat resynchronized with the world, I exhaled heavily and sank to the ground. “What…was that? An ayakashi?” I murmured.
He extended a hand to help me up. “Sorry, it was me it was after. Did it scare you?”
“Scared? No… No, I was fine, actually.”
“What?” he choked, utterly bewildered.
“I mean, I wasn’t fine—but I wasn’t scared either. I just felt…strange?” The sensation had been novel more than anything else. More off-putting than terrifying, more a tightness in the throat than a pit in the stomach. Yet if given the option, I much preferred that I never feel that way again.
“Were you headed home by yourself?” he asked.
“Yeah. Mao and Honomi both have club, so.”
“I’ll walk you back then. Hold on a sec, let me tell Sakai I’ll be absent.”
“What? No, that’s fine. It’s not there anymore, is it?” I glanced at the stairwell, which appeared as innocuous as ever.
“Just stay here. I’ll be right back.”
“But Towada—!”
“Just stay.” He cut me off with a resolute grip on my shoulders, his gaze intense, piercing.
“O-Okay, sure.” I nodded, and Towada released me and strode away.
As he disappeared from sight, I could have sworn I heard Ayako laughing, “Towada men sure are stubborn, aren’t they?”