In addition to the haunted house scenery, our group was responsible for decorating the classroom interior.
“Crap! If we don’t hurry, we won’t make it before the workshop starts!” I yelped as we ran through the hallway. Our main task was working on set pieces in the courtyard, but now we were en route to a meeting in the school kitchen.
“Why’d the storage room have to be locked today, of all days?!” I moaned.
A thick blackout curtain was a must-have for a successful haunted house. We’d stopped by the school storage room to borrow one, but discovered the door was locked. The home economics teacher had the key, but when we went to the staff room to ask for it, they told us she’d left to give a workshop on food safety. That sent us into a panic, and we raced off in the direction of the school kitchen to try and catch her.
“How come we have to ask a teacher for the key anytime we want to get in there?!”
“They keep valuables in there,” was Yoshino’s levelheaded response. “It’d be bad if those got stolen, right?”
Still, if we didn’t get that key before the workshop started, it would delay everything we planned to do that afternoon. The school kitchen was in a building far from our homeroom, so we wouldn’t make it unless we sprinted there.
As we passed the first-year drinking fountains, I couldn’t ignore the little voice in my bladder any longer. “Sorry. I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be quick.”
I thought Yoshino would keep going, but she turned and followed me instead.
“Oh!” I gasped, pausing as I noticed someone in the blind spot near the fountains. A boy stood alongside the fountain closest to the girl’s bathroom. I could tell from his light-blue indoor shoes that he was a second-year, but he was turned toward the wall, his arms pressed against it, so I couldn’t see his face. Just beyond his tall frame, I caught sight of what appeared to be part of a girl’s uniform—between his legs, I could spot someone’s knee, but that was it.
One look at the pale thigh peeking out below the disheveled skirt told Yoshino and I everything we needed to know. We immediately turned on our heels and dashed toward the kitchen, trying to calm down by exchanging wide-eyed glances and squealing about the shocking scene we’d stumbled upon.
We somehow made it to the kitchen to borrow the key just before the workshop started. Now that we could access the storage room, we headed back to the school gymnasium, where it was located.
“We saw something crazy back there,” I mumbled.
Yoshino and I reached the storage room and found the blackout curtain, but then we sank to the floor, too exhausted to move.
“Things sure are different from junior high, huh?”
In high school, seeing a couple wasn’t uncommon. I couldn’t help feeling a little envious watching boys and girls chat in the hallway during breaks between classes. Back in junior high, people usually teased couples they found out were dating, so most relationships were kept secret.
“I’ve heard stuff like that happens all the time in this storage room,” Yoshino murmured, finally catching her breath as she sat holding the curtain.
“Really? How do you know that?” I inquired.
“There are rumors about it. Like, during festival prep, couples get the storage room key and come in here to…” Yoshino trailed off.
Just imagining what she was about to say brought heat to my cheeks. Yoshino seemed to be having the same thought; her face was beet red. We scooted close enough together to feel each other’s breath. Trying to calm down, we whispered in hushed tones that were completely unnecessary given no one else was around.
“Why do you think they were by the first-year fountains, though?”
“Probably because so few people use those. If no one came by, do you think they would’ve…” Before I could finish my question, Yoshino and I locked eyes and squealed. We’d read enough shojo manga to know what happened next. I smacked the curtain gleefully, inhaled a cloud of dust, and started coughing.
“I wonder if that day will ever come for me,” Yoshino sighed wistfully, tucking back some hair that had fallen in her face. Her skin looked paler than usual in the storage room’s dim lighting. “I doubt it. I’m too scared of men.” She smiled self-deprecatingly as she brushed dust off her skirt and reached out to me. “Let’s get going.”
“Okay,” I agreed, taking her hand and standing up.
“You’ll be with me forever, right, Hazuki?”
Even after leaving the storage room, we kept holding hands. As we walked side by side, the sun cast identical shadows behind us, like matching paper cutouts. We were around the same height, with hair cut the same length, wearing pleated skirts that fell to our knees. We carried mechanical pencils we’d bought together, and the same plush toy hung from our bags. We were two peas in a pod—everything about us matched perfectly. Whatever we did, Yoshino and I were always the same.