Not many people heard about that incident, and the post-festival celebration went on without a hitch.
The window by Yoshino’s infirmary bed had a great view of the bonfire. As the group leader and I discussed what had happened with Yoshino, she just silently stared out into the schoolyard.
“I’m really sorry. I never should’ve invited those guys from junior high,” our group leader apologized.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I said.
“And I should never have hidden the fact that we attended the same school in the first place,” he added. “I’m so sorry.”
“Like I said, you didn’t do anything wrong,” I insisted. “There’s nothing you need to apologize for.”
Yoshino remained silent as our group leader, and I went back and forth. She had recovered physically, but the memories of her first school festival had been horribly marred. Our group leader seemed full of remorse about his involvement in the events.
“I can take care of things from here,” I told him. “Go back and join everyone else.”
“But…” he protested.
“Yoshino can’t go home until she gets changed,” I reminded him.
I had put my school uniform back on, but Yoshino was still wearing her yukata. The group leader seemed to grasp what I was getting at, and he finally left the infirmary.
The class rankings were announced at the conclusion of the festival. Most years, the first-years just did whatever they could to avoid ending up in last place. Since Class 1-C’s haunted house had been so well received, though, our year was awarded second place. Still, I couldn’t help feeling mixed emotions, knowing we’d robbed Chiaki and his classmates of that crown.
The students dancing around the bonfire were mostly third-years, with some second-years joining in. Most first-years looked on from the sidelines, still too embarrassed to take part. Several Class 2-A boys dancing around were still in drag. As I watched their merrymaking, I felt like I was witnessing a school legend’s birth.
Yoshino and I were still sitting there, watching the schoolyard in silence, when a figure suddenly peeked in the infirmary window and tapped the glass. The scent of burning wood flooded in with the outside air as I unlocked and opened the window.
Chiaki poked his face through. “How are you doing, Yoshino? If you feel up to it, why not come join us for a bit? The post-festival celebration is going to wrap up soon.”
“…You look beautiful, Chiaki.” It was the first thing Yoshino had said all night.
Chiaki was still dressed for his café shift, but his makeup was coming off from all that intense dancing. He gave a small sigh of relief as Yoshino finally spoke, his face breaking into smile. “Honestly, being dressed and made up like this is cramping my style. I feel much more comfortable in my usual clothes.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” I quipped. “You certainly seem to be having a good time.”
“You better not breathe a word of this to Mom and Dad, Hazuki.”
As if to emphasize Chiaki’s warning, the first chords of the jenkka—a Finnish folk dance—filled the air.
Chiaki seemed to sense why Yoshino was staring past him and into the schoolyard. “Riku was worried too,” he added. “I’m sure he’s out there dancing somewhere. You should join us. I know he’d be relieved to see you feeling better.”
Yoshino teared up at just the mention of Tono-senpai’s first name. “He must think I’m so weird…”
“That’s not true,” Chiaki said reassuringly. “I wish you could’ve seen how cool he was.”
Chiaki saw Yoshino as another little sister, but she’d had way fewer interactions with Tono-senpai. Still, out of everyone in the classroom, he’d been her most impassioned defender.
“I’ve never seen him that worked up before,” Chiaki continued. “He must’ve been furious about what those boys did to you.”
“I’m so sorry I ruined your café,” Yoshino said through tears as Chiaki stroked her head. She probably didn’t like the fact that he was touching her. Although she’d dredged up some tolerance for Chiaki, he was still a boy. She made no move to push his hand away, though.
Chiaki and I waited silently until Yoshino collected herself. The students outside lined up as the jenkka played. The drag queen group—who couldn’t be missed, thanks to their eye-catching appearance—happened to pass right by the infirmary.
“What’re you doing over there, Chiaki?” they called to him.
My brother turned to acknowledge his fellow drag queens, and they started weaving and winding their way over to us.
“Oh, is she awake now?” one asked.
“How are you feeling?” another asked Yoshino. “You didn’t get hurt anywhere, did you?”
“Once you feel better, come dance with us!”
Yoshino’s eyes grew big as saucers as they took in the glamorous drag queens. She hadn’t been party to anything that had happened at the cross-dressing café. Seeing her expression of pure surprise, the queens struck poses.
“If anything happens, we’ve got your back,” one drawled.
“Just remember, the boys in Class 2-A are nice, okay?”
“Of course, if you’d rather keep it between us girls, we can make that work too,” another drag queen said, blowing Yoshino a kiss that made her giggle.
When we visited the classroom café, I hadn’t noticed that these were the same classmates Chiaki had hosted at the festival-prep meeting in his room. I even recognized some of them from the group that had gathered to admire Yoshino’s painting. Our senpai always seemed to be looking out for us, even without my realizing it.
I still vividly recalled how they’d stood up for Yoshino at the café. I’d never seen a group of people look so beautiful and strong at the same time. If only she’d been there to witness it too.
The queens pulled Chiaki into their ranks again, then danced their way back to the students circling the bonfire.
As the students did one folk dance after the next, the single cherry tree by the infirmary almost seemed to watch over them. The light of the flames dyed its leaves crimson, and the fireworks going off in the breeze made the tree appear full of cherry blossoms.
The fireworks illuminated Yoshino’s profile, and she turned away to hide her red, puffy eyes. “Once the festival’s done, I’ll check out the art club.”
“I’ll go with you,” I said.
She shook her head. “You shouldn’t have to if you’re not interested. I’m always causing you problems, Hazuki.”
No, you’re not. I stuck with Yoshino through thick and thin because I wanted to.
“As long as people like our senpai are around, I can push myself a little harder,” she added.
You don’t have to do that, I wanted to protest, but swallowed the words before they escaped my lips. Instead, I said, “I’ll go grab your clothes. Let’s head home together,” and left the infirmary, unable to look Yoshino in the face.