Archive of Our Own

Tuesday, May 13

Info-chan

Info-chan: hey. 

Info-chan: i have some news you might get a kick out of

Ayano opens the message just as Info-chan provides a link to a journalism website. Upon the article title, High School Student In Hospital After Serious Injury, she blinks at her screen.

Info-chan

You: Who?

Info-chan: osana najimi

You: How?

Info-chan: don’t ask me. i’m just the delivery girl

Info-chan: this will give you plenty of time to brainstorm your next move, right?

You: Was it really an accident?

Info-chan: perhaps.

You: If I had known she would get struck down by faulty architecture, I wouldn’t have gone through the effort to be nice to her.

Info-chan: at least your hands are clean

Info-chan: how’s your progress with rito?

Info-chan: you seem a little lost

You: I’m fine.

Info-chan: maybe a few favors for me will give you enough for a breakthrough? (-3-)

You: No.

Info-chan: well, it was worth a shot.

Info-chan: you know how to find me if you change your mind.

Ayano sighs as her phone screen fades to black, not bothering to answer her informant’s advances.

In front of her, Taro Yamada speaks with two other students. He seems off today, a little heavy at the shoulders and eyes swollen. She now understands it’s because of the news Info-chan has just revealed to her. 

She scoots further back into her corner where she has set up to inconspicuously watch Taro’s interaction. He hasn’t mentioned Osana, but the other students attempt to comfort him when he claims he hasn’t slept well.

If it wasn’t truly an accident, and the culprit somehow failed… Who has access to manipulating Akademi infrastructure? She doesn’t even know how to pull that off.

“Aya-channn,” a voice chimes from beside her.

Ayano jolts out of her skin. 

She whips her head to find Budo Masuta’s hesitant smile. His arms are crossed atop the chest of his dark uniform, the red club leader armband noticeable like a sore thumb. 

What’s also noticeable: his hair, which he apparently does not know how to run a brush through. Threatening to comb it always makes him react violently like threatening a cat with water.

“Where did you come from?” she asks.

“The stairs?” Budo answers, puzzled.

She blinks.

“What?” he tries.

“You don’t look like the type for sneaking,” Ayano mumbles. 

She fixes herself in hopes that he won’t mention how she was clearly watching Taro. 

He can definitely tell, and is more than aware of her little ‘obsession,’ but he spares her the judgmental comments.

He starts, “I was looking for you.”

When she still seems distracted, he leans against the wall in front of her. Budo is not stunningly tall, but he’s just tall enough to block her vision of Taro.

Her eyes begrudgingly snap up to his. As they do, he licks his lips. 

Her thin eyebrows knit together. Does he need chapstick or something?

Budo says, “You’re already giving me that look, and I haven’t even said what I needed you for.”

Ayano immediately straightens her face. “What look, Budo-senpai?”

His face twists up and he makes a dismissive noise. He continues, “Are you still eating lunch with us today?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Budo-senpai.”

“Quit it,” he groans. “So– you’re actually coming?”

“Yes.”

He’s smiling widely despite his crossed arms, and if Ayano stares long enough she can envision a tail wagging behind him. 

She can’t resist, “Well… I did have to run an errand for Haruka-chan…”

Budo’s face falls. She always finds his expressiveness amusing, per the fact that she struggles in that department.

“You need to rest and digest with us,” he states. “On the roof. Fresh sunlight, great vitamin D…”

“I’m going.”

Before she knows what’s happening, Budo’s hands are cupping her face and tilting her head around like he’s performing a medical examination. “You didn’t hit your head, did you? You never hang out with us.”

She doesn’t bother to nudge his hands away for some odd reason. “No, I didn’t.”

It seems to surprise him, too. He blinks wide eyes at her but continues to cradle her face in his warm palms. Wow, his hands are warm.

“Budo.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you please let go of my face?”

“Oh–” He doesn’t drop his hands in a normal way, instead slides them down her jaw to her neck before letting go. “Sorry, sorry. You’re not helping my case, though. I’m scared you have brain damage.”

“I don’t.”

He stares at her, his dark curls pressed against the wallpaper. 

She asks, “Was there something else?”

“Oh. Oh, no. That’s all.”

He straightens abruptly as if shaken from a trance. She glances past him and– Taro’s gone. 

The lunch bell chimes, and Ayano packs her things. Most students leave their bags in their classrooms during lunch, but she’s a bit more paranoid and prefers to keep it with her. She hopes to at least outsmart herself, with all her plots to steal or plant incriminating evidence in others’ bags. 

Speaking of paranoia, news of Osana’s ‘accident’ has spread and, with it, theories of it being more than an accident. 

The concept of a ceiling stage panel giving in and collapsing coincidentally as Osana walks past isn’t very believable. The police see no evidence of a further crime besides the headmaster’s neglect. So all that is left is for Osana to recover, unavenged.

Juku Ren from the Martial Arts Club is in Ayano’s homeroom, so they leave together. He’s usually quiet, and they never have much to talk about. Instead, he adjusts his club headband beneath his thick ginger bangs while they walk. 

As they ascend the stairs toward the roof, she pauses on the third floor to find Budo’s correct: the sun is brightly, gravely out. And Budo, himself, is talking to a girl. 

Juku stops when she does. He squints through the influx of student movement to follow her gaze. 

“Budo has company?” he says, which only makes Ayano’s face pinch up more.

“Do you know her?” she asks calmly. 

“Ah…” He ponders. “Ajia Ashitomi? She and Mina are close, I think…”

“Is she also a first-year?”

“I think.”

Ajia touches Budo’s arm, nudging him to try one of her dishes. Ayano fully frowns now. 

Budo notices them (because they’re standing in the middle of a busy hallway staring at him) and offers a cluelessly oblivious wave. Ajia takes the chance to move a stray piece of black hair from her face. 

Juku approaches before Ayano does, so she just follows. 

“Hey…” Budo starts slowly, mostly looking at Ayano rather than Juku. “Ashitomi-chan here was just making sure I’m eating well.”

Ajia’s neck is flushed enough to match the shade of her Cooking Club hair wrap. “Well, that’s not all… I actually was wondering if you wanted to study together sometime…”

Ayano thinks she’s making a face, but she can’t tell for sure. 

She’s seen this first-year before. Going for a third-year is a bit bold, especially when it’s a campus celebrity like Budo Masuta. He usually walks Ayano home, so this supposed ‘study date’ will probably derail their plans. It’s definitely the change in routine that’s scary to her, not the fact that he’s having a study date to begin with. She doesn’t want him, so Ajia can have him.

“Uhh… Ayano?” Budo’s voice says.

Her eyes snap back up to attention. All three of them are staring at her.

“Yes?” she asks.

“You spaced out. Do you wanna study with us?” 

“No, thank you.”

Budo smiles at Ajia, putting his phone away. Great, they must have exchanged contact info while she was worrying.

Before she knows what’s happening, she’s being dragged by the arm back toward the rooftop stairs. She doesn’t bother to pull her arm free from Budo. 

They pass by Oka Ruto, who flushes and waves predominantly at Ayano. 

“Who was that?” Ayano asks, referring to Budo’s ‘encounter.’

Budo and Juku both look back at her curiously. She feels like she must have five heads.

“Ashitomi-chan?” Budo says. “She’s in the Cooking Club and, uh– gives me samples a lot. She offers to make me lunch–”

“How long have you known her?”

“A week? Not long.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re this oblivious.” 

They break into the warm May air just in time for Budo to look back at her with a raised eyebrow. She finally gains the clarity to wrench her arm free. 

Juku walks ahead of them and sits down on a bench beside Mina Rai, pretending to not be a part of this.

“‘Oblivious’?” Budo repeats. 

Very timely, Sho Kunin says, “There he is! Did you score, Budo?”

Budo mediates, “Sho. There is no ‘scoring’–”

Ayano continues, “She clearly wants something.”

“Who?” Shima Shiya butts in, mouth full of food. 

“Wants… what?” he questions.

“You.” Ayano points at him, and Budo shows his palms as if her finger is a handgun.

“Why are you so concerned about her?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed beneath his bangs.

“I’m not–” She pipes down. “I’m not.”

“That’s the face of someone concerned…” 

He pinches her pale face with his free hand. She nudges his arm away, but she relaxes. She needed his reality check, she fears.

The club shares glances as Budo and Ayano finally sit on a bench, beside Sho (whose lunch is already almost gone). 

“Who are you arguing about?” Mina presses.

Sho opens his mouth. 

Budo cuts in, voice remarkably high pitched, “Don’t worry about it.”

More students eat outside recently with the nice weather, but they usually start to dwindle and vanish into the protection of air conditioning by June. It makes Akademi’s rooftop and outdoor grounds busy with life and chatter, even in the face of midterm stress. 

There’s also enough space on the roof to spread out and keep a simulation of privacy, rendering it a popular place. The Martial Arts Club typically inhabits these particular rows of benches in the corner on nice days, but this is one of the few occasions Ayano has sat with them. 

To change the subject, Juku asks, “Did you guys hear about Osana Najimi?”

Ayano stiffens. Budo must notice because she can feel his eyes on the side of her face.

“What?” Sho asks cluelessly.

Juku explains, “Apparently, a pillar or– ceiling tile, or something, fell on her. That's why the gym is closed.”

Sho grumbles, “No wonder I ran into Zametora’s ugly behind today.”

Ignoring him, Mina says solemnly, “Najimi-san is in the hospital now, I believe…”

Juku continues, “It was apparently an accident, but some people think it may have been intentional.”

“Who would even do that?” Mina bites.

Ayano pointedly stares at a beetle flying past. 

Shima finally contributes, “I’ve heard the Photography Club is doing their own investigation–”

A camera flash cuts their conversation short.

All six of them blink at the interruption and turn to the source: the Photography Club, in question. They stand in a formation as if posed for a movie listing, with their leader Fureddo Jonzu at the front, camera balanced in his palm. 

“You’ve got that right,” he announces smugly.

“Perfect timing,” Sho mumbles and leans back against the wall.

Budo nudges Sho to shut him up, and then asks, “Have you found anything interesting?”

Beruma Dinkuri adjusts the neck strap of her own camera. “No need. The culprit’s sitting right beside you.”

She points at Ayano. 

Her eyebrows shoot up her forehead at the blatant accusation. She doesn’t defend herself, nor does she get the chance to; Sho closes his bento box with the same energy as someone removing their earrings before a fight. 

“How would that even be possible?” he deadpans. 

“At this early stage, everyone is a suspect.” Fureddo steps closer; his group follows. 

“Bruh– She’s our clubmate,” Shima argues. “Yan-chan wouldn’t try to kill anyone!”

“I don’t think you know your ‘clubmate’ as well as you think,” Fureddo elaborates, narrowed eyes scanning over each of them. “You see, she and Osana Najimi had a crush on the same boy. Not only that, but she follows him around before and during school… and we have photos to prove it.”

Ayano wasn’t threatened by his theories at first. Now, she is.

Something nasty climbs up her throat that she’s close to spitting out, but Budo abruptly stands and the words glue themselves to the back of her teeth.

“Jonzu-kun,” Budo begins calmly, “if the only reason you’re here is to accuse someone of murder, you can leave. I don’t appreciate others disrespecting my clubmates.”

His body blocks her sight of Fureddo and the rest of the group, so she can’t discern their reactions. A moment of silence passes between everyone. 

Unhesitating even in the face of Akademi’s martial arts master, Fureddo says, “Have you heard of the murder cases of ‘89, Masuta-kun?”

“I said that you can leave,” Budo returns, just as calmly.

Shima and Mina exchange looks. Ayano stares off at the blue sky and squeezes her sweaty palms so she can refrain from tearing out someone’s teeth, including her own.

The Photography Club relents, following their leader as he quietly retreats to the nearest staircase. 

Once the coast is clear, Sho immediately says, “What the fuck?” 

Shima lets out a strangled noise into her palms. Juku translates, “You know it’s bad when we see the cutthroat side of Budo.”

“I was not cutthroat,” Budo grumbles, turning only slightly toward them for some reason.

“We’re lucky that you said something before I did,” Sho adds. “Because I was going to be much less nice.”

They all seem to realize something and pause. Ayano, still watching the clouds drift, doesn’t know why until Shima asks gently, “Yan-chan, are you okay?”

She departs from the clouds and returns to the bench where she’s seated. 

She hadn’t realized she was squeezing Budo’s warm hand as if it were Fureddo’s neck she envisioned strangling.

Her heart flops at her trachea like a wet fish and she quickly lets go.

“I’m fine,” she says automatically.

“You didn’t try to kill anyone, right?” Sho asks, mostly jokingly. 

“Clearly not.”

Now free from her hand, Budo finally sits back down. He’s staring at her like she’s fragile, and she doesn’t like it. 

Her eyes trace the white railing of the rooftop so she can ignore it. She wants to thank them all for defending her, but she doesn’t know how. 

Sho tries another question, “Ayano, have you been stalking Yamada?”

“Sho,” Budo warns. 

Mina breaks her silence to inquire, “What happened in 1989?”

“Guys,” Budo says, firmer. They all stop.

Ayano suspects that the lunchtime encounter will make things awkward enough for the club to avoid her for the rest of the day – maybe the rest of her high school years – but she’s pleasantly surprised. 

During a boring lecture about a literature assignment, she notices her phone screen light up and Juku scrolling on his own phone from a row in front of her. Curious, she inconspicuously checks her notifications.

Oka Ruto

Oka Ruto: hello this is Oka

Oka Ruto: i was wondering if you want to meet my pet tarantula after club meetings tomorrow

Oka Ruto: only if you want to though

Oka Ruto: i don’t want to make you feel forced into it   

Ayano’s going to pretend she didn’t see that. 

Martial Arts Club

Sho: Have any of you started studying for midterms?

Mina: I think you’re the only one procrastinating on this, Sho.

Shima: um well 

Shima: how abt we study together today?? cancel club meeting budo???

Budo: Sure, but only because the third year essays are due tomorrow

Sho: Aha even Budo hasn’t locked in! 

Mina: Why are you texting during class?

Sho: Why are YOU texting during class??

With that agreement, they meet after cleaning time to decide on a study spot.

The library has been relatively packed recently, with the fuss about exams becoming a top priority, so the club decides to search outside for a table.

Juku parts ways to run an errand before he studies, so Ayano walks alone. Once she reaches the first floor, she has already started to ruminate in her isolation.

Budo has countless girls at his beck and call. She doesn’t know many students who have a foul opinion of him at all, actually. Despite the attention he gets, he’s known to never publicly discuss his relationships nor accept girls’ confessions. 

Under that logic, Ayano’s unsure why Ajia asking him to help her study nags her so deeply. He doesn’t aim for most girls, let alone first-years, and it’s not like she wants him, anyway. She thinks she would puke if he even tried to kiss her. 

Maybe it’s in a friend way? Is it normal to feel this way when your friends are threatened with relationships? But she doesn’t feel that way about the other Martial Arts Club members…

Wait. Now that she thinks about it, she’s never thought about kissing Taro, either. 

This is a revelation that she chooses to bury away for later because she’s unprepared to ponder it this early on a Tuesday.

On her way to the exit, a pair of hands grab her shoulders.

“YAN-CHAN!” Shima screeches. Ayano flinches. 

She meets Shima’s grinning face. Mina follows closely behind. 

“Ha! I actually got you to jump! That never happens!” Shima enthuses. “We were looking for you and Juku.”

Ayano tries not to sigh. Shima hugs her tightly in some kind of apology, which she weakly returns. Shima is the most affectionate person Ayano has ever met, even rivaled by her childhood friend Midori Gurin. At least Midori gave her some practice.

Ayano walks beside the underclassmen as she recovers from her frazzled state. 

She’s overreacting – since when does Budo’s love life matter to her? 

All of them scramble their books and bags over an outdoor table. Juku joins later with his arms full of bottles as he says, “I brought drinks.”

They sip through their sodas and juices (or, for Mina, water), careful to not spill anything. 

Ayano thinks they are all too talkative to be capable of ‘locking in,’ as Sho says, but the group remains the quietest she’s ever seen them. Most of them have headphones in, and even Sho and Shima (the yappiest ones) are silent. 

And here Ayano is, covering her own ears just to focus on the text in front of her. 

The anxieties of her predicament with Asu Rito are much louder than biology right now. It helps that the gym is temporarily closed, so the Sports Club’s activities are somewhat limited. Maybe someone should shut down the outdoor track and pool, too, so most of her problems will be solved.

Asu’s been too occupied with returning to her club to bother Taro and he’s equally occupied with worrying about Osana, which is a plus. But he’s more vulnerable than ever, and likely open to some ‘fixing’…

A weight presses into her thigh.

She looks down to find Budo’s calloused hand on her knee. Just his pinky makes contact with skin, the small sliver between her sock and skirt, with how he’s positioned. 

She looks up at him. He’s already peering at her. 

“You were shaking the table,” he murmurs, letting go of her leg. 

Oh. Ayano sits up straighter and makes an effort to not tap her foot this time. How does he keep ending up next to her, anyway??

Budo’s words unfortunately sever the group’s sharp focus (minus Ayano, who was never focused to begin with). 

He sets his pencil down. “I’ve reached my limit. I can’t work on this paper anymore.”

“Which one?” Sho asks. “I gave up on the history paper and started the literature one.”

Budo groans and flies up from his seat, disregarding the question. “My brain is gonna explode. I’m taking a break.”

He escapes to the closest walkway, probably to take a lap around Akademi. 

Now lacking motivation, Sho and Shima also take breaks to scroll on their phones. Mina scolds them but both tune her out like a nagging mom. 

Not five minutes after Budo leaves, they hear shouting. Ayano looks up and sees the Sports Club doing their own laps. Lovely. Just what she needed while trying to forget about Asu – to see Asu.

They all watch them reach the end of their track before high-fiving one another, out of breath, and circling back to the start. Ayano knows better than to think the Martial Arts Club won’t make a comment.

“Are those a bunch of losers?” Sho says a little loudly. 

The heads of the Sports Club members snap in their direction. Mina stomps on Sho’s shoe under the table. 

Although they get along with the members well enough, the Martial Arts Club and the Sports Club have some kind of self-proclaimed rivalry. Ayano learned about it shortly after joining, though she’s unaware of whether it’s a stubborn tradition or something one of the current members began. 

She heard a rumor that it’s because Budo and Asu once had a ‘thing.’ But after seeing Budo’s prudish behavior of rejecting any Akademi girl who confesses to him, she doesn’t find that likely. 

So, mostly, the beef is with the club’s Vice President Itachi Zametora, who presently gives them the nastiest look from across the field. Either that, or his face and thick red eyebrows are noticeable enough to make the most dramatic expression.

Ayano particularly notices Asu, who seems to redirect her teammates’ attention to their next activity. She’s tan and well-built even from afar, and Ayano suddenly feels like the ugliest being to walk the earth. 

She wonders what Taro must see in all of these girls that she fails to embody. She feels like she’s close to a breakthrough, but she’ll miss the mark and fall short, like she always does. 

There’s some deeply fundamental trait that she lacks, and no amount of crafting and fixing her presence will make her capable of keeping someone like Taro around. 

Ayano feels like deflating. The Sports Club returns to their jog. 

“Budo is going to kill you,” Mina says.

“He’d understand,” Sho replies.

“Why am I killing you this time?” Budo appears from thin air. 

No one provides him an answer. He raises an eyebrow and purses his lips. 

Sho finally says, “Because this club is a fucking nightmare.”

Budo ignores him and sits back down at the table, commenting, “You guys look like a bunch of kids caught stealing cookies.”

“I’m a kid and need an adult,” Shima says, showing her blank page of calculus homework.

“I’m an adult,” Budo points out.

She stares at him before changing her request, “I need a different adult.”

Wednesday, May 14

Ayano always wakes up early to follow Taro to school. 

She half expects him to miss classes to visit Osana in the hospital today, but he still leaves a little later than his normal departure time en route to Akademi. He looks even more tired today, shoulders hunched forward and face with a dazed expression.

She trails him to the school gate and then realizes the first thing that’s off today: Budo hasn’t texted her since yesterday – before their study session yesterday.

Okay. Either he finally got what was coming (has disappeared off the face of the earth) or has finally decided she was too much for his tastes. He always texts by this time, usually during his early morning runs. 

The second thing that’s off: the Martial Arts Club stands near the school gate, eyes scanning the crowds of students. Sho is leaning on Juku’s shoulder with his eyes closed as if he’s a corpse. Mina holds two thermoses of coffee like she’s armed.

Ayano approaches the group because she sees no reasonable way to dodge them.

“Yan-chan,” Shima says, “have you seen Budo?”

Um. “No, I haven’t.” 

She eyes Sho’s unconscious form. 

“Oh, yeah– don’t mind him,” Juku says, adjusting the taller boy’s weight on his back. 

“Is something wrong?” Ayano asks.

Shima stumbles, “Well– with Sho? No. But none of us could walk with Budo–”

As if speaking of him manifested him into existence, they turn and find Budo struggling to walk in a straight line toward them. If Ayano thought that Taro looked tired, Budo looks like a dead man walking.

“Ahh…” Shima sounds disappointed with this grand reveal.

Juku answers Ayano’s unspoken question, “Budo only got two hours of sleep and he acts like he’s drunk when he’s tired.”

“Leave the poor boy alone,” Mina whispers.

Budo forces up a smile once he approaches. “Sorry… were you guys waiting for a while?”

“No, not at all,” Mina insists, immediately handing him a thermos. “Don’t drink it yet, it’s still hot.”

The martial arts master, an image of patience and discipline, quite nearly throws a temper tantrum. He controls himself and gets away with just a dramatically hard blink.

“What?! You should be thanking me!” Mina squawks.

“Thanks, Mina,” he says gently.

Juku once again shifts Sho’s weight so he won’t fall to the stone ground. “Shouldn’t you guys go to the infirmary and lay down? This is not sustainable.”

Sho is apparently actually comatose because he doesn’t respond. 

“I’ll be… all right,” Budo says. “Enjoy the time while you’re not a third-year, guys.”

Ayano suddenly isn’t looking forward to next year. Though, she suspects she has better time management than Budo and Sho combined, so she’ll probably be fine. 

Budo’s too distracted by his exhaustion to notice Raibaru Fumetsu walk past them into Akademi, but Ayano isn’t. She notices Kokona Haruka’s arm around the short, built girl as she consoles her, likely about Osana. 

Juku nudges Sho until he wakes up and can stand on his own. His tidy brown hair is now shaped to match the mold of Juku’s shoulder where he rested.

Mina attempts to hand him the coffee thermos but he nudges it away, complaining that he hates the taste of coffee.

With their party intact, they finally enter the school. 

“Well, since the third-years are pretty much useless today,” Shima says, “do you guys wanna come with me to the Occult Club?”

“Occult Club?” Juku repeats. “For what?”

Shima grins suspiciously. “I found out something about the Najimi case, and I wanna ask them about it.”

“You’re being very vague.”

“Okay– apparently their ritual knife has been missing since last week, and I was wondering…”

Mina cuts her off, “Please don’t tell me you’re joining the investigation trend, too…”

“I’m not, but–!” Shima squeaks. “We have to clear Yan-chan’s name, right?”

“That’s what the police are for…” Mina mumbles. 

“In this climate?!” 

A few students glance at them. Mina quickly shushes her. 

Ayano squints as she processes Shima’s line of reasoning. 

She’s heard a rumor that the accident happened because the string of some type of pulley mechanism was cut, causing the panel to fall. Using the ritual knife would not be her choice – it feels a bit excessive and conspicuous – but…

Budo sways beside her and she instinctively grips his arm to keep him still (and prevent him from collapsing into her because that won’t be fun for either of them).

Actually, now that she pays attention, Budo isn’t looking too good. His usual slight tan that glows on his skin is now a ghostly pale, comparable to her complexion. He flinches at bright lights and any loud noises and he speaks in a softer voice, if at all. 

Sho quickly gives up and retires to the infirmary for a nap, although Juku almost successfully bribes him to join with the possibility of seeing Supana Churu. 

Budo is too stubborn. After they drag his weary body to the dark Occult Club room, they enter on an odd sight: Shin Higaku curled up in one of the chairs with a blanket, asleep. 

Supana looks back and forth between Shin, Budo, and the remaining members of the Martial Arts Club.

She fixes her two ponytails and deadpans, “Why does it seem like all of the third-years are on drugs today?”

“Something about four essays due,” Juku answers.

Ayano nudges Budo toward a chair so he can briefly rest, but he uses his leftover energy to fight her on it so she gives up. 

He presses his weight against the purple wallpaper and quietly sips from his cooled coffee. At least the lighting in this room is dim enough that he can open his eyes further than a tired squint.

He’s staying alive on an artificial supply of energy that Ayano feels will give out the second he stops to sit down – which is why he stands now, leaning into the wall as he cups the coffee thermos in both hands. 

Certain that Budo at least won’t pass out unexpectedly, Ayano approaches Shin’s sleeping form. He’s completely knocked out. Lingering beside him, Oka fidgets at the sight of so many people in her club room.

“Did you guys need something?” Supana gets directly to the point, as she often does. 

Her unusual appearance and interests do nothing to diminish her boldness, hence why Sho seems to have taken a liking to her.

They all look at Shima. 

She starts nervously, “Yeah, actually… We got a lovely talk from the Photography Club yesterday–”

“Oh, was it about being suspects for Najimi’s accident?” Supana grumbles. “They came to us with that, too.”

Shima continues, “I’ve heard that your ritual knife has been missing…”

“Yes, since last week,” she answers, crossing her arms. “Shin says it’s the first time it’s disappeared like that… And Jonzu was quick to blame the crime on us because of it.”

“Really?” Juku asks.

Supana nods. “He even mentioned that Aishi and Oka-chan are friends now, so she may have lent her the knife.”

The awake and functional students in the room peer at Ayano. 

She states, “I do not have the ritual knife.”

Supana rolls her eyes, though Ayano can only see one of them with the medical patch in the way. “Jonzu just wants to play police and find someone to blame. To think that we would have a vendetta against Najimi-chan – for a summoning sacrifice, of all things?”

“The gym is still closed, huh?” Shima murmurs. “We would check if the knife is there if we could.”

“Yeah…” Her face softens and her posture loosens. “Shin is pretty upset about it. If we can’t find it, we plan to buy a replacement.”

Ayano glances over her shoulder to find Oka checking on Budo in a gentle voice. He reassures her that he’s fine (as always), but Oka’s eyes drift to Ayano’s.

Ayano’s neck feels hot. Great, now she has to deal with two lovestricken clowns. 

“We, um…” Oka finally speaks up. “We think that it was stolen outside of… club hours… so, uh… it must have been someone with a key to the room…”

Ayano tunes back in to find the others leaving, apparently satisfied with this interrogation. 

She says goodbye to Oka to be polite, and then takes it upon herself to guide Budo toward the hallway. 

They part ways to go to class, though Ayano and Juku dedicate an extra ten minutes to walk Budo and Sho to class, respectively. They both arrive at their homeroom within a minute before the bell rings. 

They all trade off babysitting duties for the rest of the day. Sho seems to be sensical again after his nap, so it’s mostly Budo they need to worry about. 

On her way to her babysitting shift (finding Budo for lunch), she just reaches the third floor when her patience is tested, once again.

“Hey, Aishi,” a deep voice cracks through her peace.

She looks at the source: Itachi Zametora, goatee as bushy as his eyebrows today. 

“Yes?” she says.

He stops in front of her, arms crossed. “No need to be uptight. I was just looking for you.”

Ayano maintains her self-control – why is everyone trying her this week? – and prepares to excuse herself if necessary.

But then he adds, “It’s about Masuta,” and her ears perk up.

“What is it?” she asks.

“That got your attention fast,” he observes, onto absolutely nothing because there’s nothing deeper to her sudden interest.

“What do you need, Zametora-senpai?” she asks softly, in the feminine voice that makes people be nicer to her.

He leans closer and lowers his voice – she leans away. “Has Masuta asked you to go with him to the school festival?”

Uhhm. “No, he hasn’t,” Ayano answers slowly.

“Has anyone asked you?”

“No.”

The redhead’s face lights up. “Go with me.”

“I’m–”

“Before you turn me down,” he shows his palms yieldingly but still keeps the same grin, “think about something.”

“Okay.”

“Masuta seems like a man of action, but when given the chance, he clams up – with everything, and especially females. It’s the whole reason him and Fumetsu didn’t work out.”

Ayano decides not to clock his unironic usage of the word ‘females,’ nor his taboo mention of Raibaru Fumetsu. “How does this relate to me?”

“We both want something. You want him to make a move, and I want him to actually confront me instead of having your clubmates do it all the time.”

“I don’t think Rito-chan would be very happy to know you’re going behind her back like this, creating a bad name for her club.”

Ayano judges correctly and hits the nail on the head. 

Itachi immediately stumbles at the blow, “Me and her don’t have anything going on. And this is separate from the Sports Club. This is my own fight.”

What is up with him? Legitimately?? 

Fed up, she says quietly, “I should be going, Zametora-senpai.”

“You know where to find me when you decide,” he says. 

She waits until she’s turned away to pinch up her face into a scowl.

Now onto problem number two: finding Budo. She hadn’t even seen Sho walk past her during that entire exchange and, for all she knows, he might be dead. Which leads her to–

How did Ajia Ashitomi prepare food, get to the third floor, and find Budo this quickly?

He looks like he’s crashing more by the second, long out of coffee by now, and Ayano’s getting closer to crashing out.  

As Ajia offers him food, Ayano feels a surge of protectiveness. He’s supposed to be her nutcase for the day! He’s not even coherent enough to tell right from left, let alone what Ajia is trying to feed him!

She is god’s strongest, bravest soldier. She was gone for five minutes.

“Hello, Ashitomi-chan,” Ayano is engaging before she truly realizes. 

She touches Budo’s arm to alert him of her presence. He doesn’t shift away from her touch – he never does.

He says slowly, “Aya-chan, I thought you died.”

“Not yet.” 

She attempts her best disapproving up-and-down glance at Ajia, now that Budo is too delirious to scold her.  

“Where were you?” he asks. 

She ignores his question. “Excuse me, Ashitomi-chan, but we should be going.”

She begins to pull him toward the stairs, which is as easy as trying to pull a resistant horse. He inches closer to the stairs, not making her job any easier.

“Did something happen?” He’s apparently still awake enough to read her body language.

“No.”

She’s resorted to fully holding his hand now because it’s the best way to obtain leverage to guide him up the stairs. 

He tugs with ease and she nearly falls backward off her stair and into him. She briefly remembers how strong he is. 

“Did someone bother you?” he asks weakly, eyes half lidded. 

“No.”

“Aya-chan, sharing is caring.”

Ayano turns to face him. She’s a stair ahead of him and for once has a height advantage. Most students have settled in their lunchtime spots, so they don’t need to worry as much about blocking the staircase.

Instead of battling with her like she expects, he touches her waist and says, “There's two of you.”

“You really should sit down.”

She doesn’t know what possesses her to pet his hair like she does, but his eyes immediately flutter shut at the contact and she freezes. 

It’s just because this is the first time she’s stood at a height comfortable enough to reach his hair. Yes. That’s it.

Rabbit-like footsteps patter down the stairs. Ayano’s hand flies back to her side immediately. (Budo’s hands are still on her waist, unfortunately.)

The student council secretary Akane Toriyasu rounds the corner of the staircase. As if Ayano hasn’t had enough excitement in the past ten minutes.

“Please clear the stairs!” she says cheerfully, bouncing past them. “We can’t block exit routes in the case of an emergency.”

Ayano contains a sigh. She gently tugs Budo up the remaining steps so they can enter the roof and be free of this third-floor hell of a place. 

Her phone lights up with a text as she walks Budo toward their lunchtime spot. 

Info-chan

Info-chan: having an eventful day? 

Info-chan: you’re doing all my snooping work for me

You: If you think of tipping anyone about anything that has happened to me today, I will destroy each of the bugs I planted for you.

Info-chan: ouch. 

Info-chan: your situationships are safe with me for now

Info-chan: but you should know i have my ways to replace bugs, if that’s your best threat

Ayano doesn’t respond because what the fuck. 

She focuses on Budo again, who she’s guiding to a bench by her hand on his back, her other hand previously typing to Info-chan.

She sits between Mina and Shima, but Budo doesn’t sit down yet. 

He mumbles, “I’m gonna… head to the bathroom.”

Ayano says, “We could have gone before we came up here.”

She doesn’t notice her questionable phrasing until Sho cackles something definitely inappropriate, clearly cured after his nap. Some kind of third-year he is, to laugh like a middle schooler at a comment about going to the bathroom together. 

Budo ignores him, “It’s fine. I’ll be right back.”

He does come right back, but he appears frantic and 10x more awake than he did when he left.

He rushes up to them and begins stumbling over his words, pointing nonsensically at the stairs.

“Budo– what?” Sho deadpans. “Did someone accidentally give you drugs?”

“No!” he barks. “Sakyu Basu and– Zametora were–”

“Basu-chan has awful taste,” Shima comments. 

“Not the point!” Budo yelps. “The ritual knife– They had it–”

Shima’s eyes pop open at that. “They had the ritual knife?”

Sho stands up and gently settles his hands on Budo’s shoulders. 

“Budo,” he starts, unusually soft spoken, “brother, I think you need to lay down.”

He guides him toward a bench, but Budo shrugs off his touch. 

“No, I’m–! I’m not crazy! Or sleep deprived! I’m telling the truth!” he spouts. 

“Should we tell someone? The Occult Club?” Shima asks worriedly. She looks back and forth between the upperclassmen’s faces. 

“You didn’t confront them?” Mina questions. 

“I thought I was just losing it,” Budo says, beginning to pace. “But it was definitely the knife. Oh– wow. I’m awake now. Why didn’t this happen before class? I would have actually paid attention.”

“Okay, so…” Shima prompts again, making emphatic hand motions.

Budo says, “I’ll go back, sneak behind them to listen–”

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” Mina frets (Ayano doesn’t think it’s a bad idea). “I wouldn’t trust you to sneak anywhere.”

“Wait,” Sho chimes in, “you’re underestimating him. You’d be surprised.”

“Budo, sneaking?” Mina gestures to the erratically pacing senior. “Maybe with duct tape over his mouth.”

“Sho’s kinda right,” Shima’s voice wavers. “Why do you think he’s able to sneak up on us all the time without even trying to?”

Ayano figures that this is the best time to bring up her confrontation with Itachi. But she doesn’t find a place to fit it into the conversation quickly enough.

“I hate to say it…” Juku finally speaks up. “But we should just bring it to the Photography Club… Jonzu-kun probably knows the most, and sending Budo in wouldn’t–”

“Forget Jonzu,” Sho hisses. “What about the police?”

“They’ve already closed the case!” Shima interjects. 

“Guys,” Budo orders, and the arguing immediately ceases. “Assuming that they don’t find a way to turn it against Ayano… we should mention it to Jonzu.”

He stops pacing to stand before them, no longer a sleep deprived husk of their martial arts leader. Ayano can tell they don’t have much of a choice in the matter.

This is how they end up at the Photography Club’s doors after school instead of their own club meeting. 

They fight briefly about who will knock, but Budo gets sacrificed as it was his decision to even go. 

He knocks – after thirty seconds, one door cracks open. Dafuni Bureiku peers out at them, pretty face narrowed with suspicion.

Her eyes fall on Ayano, standing behind Budo and Sho’s broad shoulders, and she frowns. 

“Can I help you?” she asks in a polite voice, despite her expression.

“Yeahh…” Budo drawls, high pitched to betray his rare anxiety. “So. We may have learned something new for the case.”

She doesn’t relent, “Why would you bring it to us?”

“Because you’re… holding an investigation?” 

She’s still frowning in Ayano’s direction. Ayano cocks an eyebrow at her and she quickly looks back at Budo. 

She leans her head against the closed door, blonde hair flowing with the gravity of the movement. “Fureddo and Rojasu are kind of…”

“Out of it?” Sho finishes and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “We know. All the third-years are crashing out. Can we please come in?”

Dafuni gives up and slides the door further open. They all cautiously enter and close the door behind them. 

The Photography Club room reeks strongly of Red Bulls and insanity. The white walls contribute to the feeling of entering a sensory deprivation chamber. 

The club members quiet down at their arrival, all seated around a table inside of the sectioned off, curtained space in the center of the room. Something on the wall – presumably a large cork board – is covered with another curtain.

Budo, now completely awake, checks on Ayano over his shoulder. She meets his stare, though she’s unsure what he expects to see. 

It’s ironic to see the Martial Arts Club cowering in the presence of these half-conscious wannabe investigators. 

Fureddo looks notably worse than yesterday, as if it’s more than the essays keeping him sleepless at night. He has his arms crossed and glares up at them through dark undereye bags, the worst that Ayano has seen among the third-years today.

“What is it, Masuta?” he says flatly, even devoid of his smugness. 

“Hey…” Budo starts. “Would you happen to know why Sakyu Basu and Itachi Zametora have the Occult Club’s ritual knife?”

The Photography Club members blink awake at Budo’s reveal. They immediately begin theorizing, ping ponging ideas back and forth.

Beruma adjusts her thick glasses and murmurs, “They couldn’t have taken it from the crime scene… The gym is still closed.”

“So one of them must have had it this whole time,” Dafuni concludes, smudging on her lip balm.

“Wait, wait.” Fureddo’s eyes squint shut. “You said Itachi Zametora?”

Shima squeaks, “Yeah… why?”

Fureddo continues, “I don’t know what he would have against Najimi, but… it makes sense. He’s probably the most familiar with the gym’s layout. Minus the drama club members, maybe.”

Ayano wants to point out that they’re just blaming everyone at this point, but she stays quiet and stares at a photo of the school’s cherry blossom tree on the wall.

“But why the ritual knife?” Rojasu asks, shaky from caffeine. 

“And–” Sukubi adds, “Zametora-kun doesn’t have the key to unlock the Occult Club, right?”

“Unless Sakyu or Inkyu Basu visited and gave it to him…” Beruma answers. “You know that Ruto-chan is very fond of them…”

“Hey, uh–” Sho starts. “Do you guys mind if I have this cookie?”

He points at the packaged snack on the table. 

Budo smacks his hand away. “No, you can’t–” 

He stops, eyes locked on Fureddo’s. 

“Look,” he says, “we want to help.”

The Photography Club members exchange a look.

Fureddo nods at Dafuni, signaling her to remove the curtain from the corkboard on the wall.

They gawk at the sight: pictures of suspects and victims alike paired with elaborate notes of clues, routines, and suspicious behaviors.

Ayano quickly notices a section dedicated to her, including the aforementioned photos of her following Taro between classes and where she was last seen on Monday. 

“How long have you been doing this?” Mina asks nervously.

“Two days,” Fureddo answers.

Budo approaches the board and points at a picture of Shin scowling at the camera in his face. “Okay. No. Shin did not do this.”

“Proof?”

“I just know him. And Ayano. You can take Ayano off of this list.”

“Your ‘Aya-chan,’ right?” Fureddo grumbles, standing up. 

The hairs on Ayano’s arms prickle. Budo immediately presses a hand to her shoulder and she relaxes.

“We can’t remove them just yet,” he continues. “But Zametora was already on our list.” 

He points at a photo of him stretching outside with his clubmates. 

“Budo,” Shima starts meekly, “do you know what Basu-senpai and Zametora-senpai were talking about when you saw them?” 

“No…” Budo looks away as he thinks. “I was too surprised – and tired.”

“Of course, the one big plot twist had to happen to our most delusional warrior today,” Shima groans, covering her face with her hands. “We’re cooked.”

Fureddo sighs and glances over his clubmates. 

“Beruma, you focus on Zametora. Rojasu and Sukubi, you each focus on the Basu sisters. Oh, with a team this large, we’ll find whatever they have to hide.”

Mina asks, “Does this mean we’re working together?” 

Fureddo’s hand comes to his hip. He hesitates. 

“For now, yes,” he settles for. 

“Cooked with grease,” Sho supplements Shima’s comment.

Fureddo ignores him, “This doesn’t remove Aishi from the suspect list, but we can work together.”

“What would remove her?” Budo asks immediately. 

Fureddo regards him carefully. “You never answered my question yesterday. You all are aware of what happened to Akademi in the 80s, right?”

He levels his stare at Ayano as he speaks. The same enraged weight settles in her stomach, and not even Budo’s steady contact is enough to contain it this time. 

When no one answers, Fureddo explains, “A high school girl was taken to court on suspicion of murdering her classmate over a boy. There wasn’t enough evidence and she was confirmed innocent.”

“And this involves Ayano because…?” Mina prompts. 

She feels Budo squeezing her shoulder now, though she’s unsure of why. Is she that obvious? She can feel air building in her windpipe and her nails digging into her pale palms, but she can’t be that obvious, right?

“That girl was–” Fureddo starts. 

“It doesn’t involve me,” Ayano speaks for the first time all afternoon. “You don’t know me, at all.”

Everyone’s eyes are on her in an instant, but she’s only staring at Fureddo. 

He doesn’t shy away from the challenge. “You know why I’m bringing it up. It makes you a pretty worthy candidate.”

She turns up the steam. “You've miscalculated.” 

Fureddo apparently lacks too much sleep to feel fear even in the eyes of god, because as the room stares at her nervously, he just continues to glare. Ayano hates many things, and she especially hates when her masks fail to get her the things she wants. 

Budo has resorted to pushing her by the shoulders out of the crowded space in an attempt to calm her down. “Okay, Aya– Let’s go get some fresh air and take deep breaths–”

There’s a ringing in her ears, but she’s aware enough to shrug Budo off.

She insists, still facing Fureddo, “I’m going to help, but not to prove anything to you. I don’t owe you that.”

He evaluates her like he’s grading her proposition. It’s a game between them that she’s unsure if anyone else is following.

Then– Fureddo doesn’t say anything at all. 

She supposes she’s won because he looks away, arms crossed, and says, “We should all exchange contact information. For now, keep an eye on those three. Or anyone else.”

They all share their phone numbers and form the largest group chat Ayano has ever been a part of, with the Martial Arts Club’s group chat being a close second. 

Dafuni escorts them out and closes the club door behind them like it’s an actual police precinct. 

Ayano expects the rest of them to ask about her connection to Akademi’s notorious 1989 case. And she’s sure they would have, if they didn’t instantly run into Itachi. 

A flinch runs through the entire group like they’re a herd of prey animals spooking in a domino effect.

Itachi crosses his arms and raises a thick eyebrow at them like they’re all crazy. “What?”

“Hi, Zametora-kun,” Budo starts while the club collects itself. “It’s nothing. Just a little on edge after everything, haha…”

Itachi glances at the doors they just emerged from. “The Photography Club got to you, too, huh?”

“‘Too’?”

“Yep. Convincing you that everyone’s guilty, turning you against each other,” Itachi grumbles. “Even the heroic Martial Arts Club falls for it…”

Ayano’s surprised when Shima speaks up, “Why did you have the Occult Club’s ritual knife?”

Itachi pauses, noticeably puzzled. 

Realization seems to strike him. “Oh. The Basu sisters found it near the cherry tree behind the school.”

It’s their club’s turn to pause. 

“Wait, so–” Shima begins, partially to herself.

“It’s back in Ruto-chan’s hands,” Itachi says. “Did you think I was a suspect?”

“Yes, actually,” Budo says, shoulders stiff. “Well– maybe not you–”

Itachi’s chewed nails dig into the arms of his uniform. “Why would I try to kill Najimi?”

“We don’t know!” Shima cries in surrender. “We don’t know why anyone would! Why were the Basu sisters even at the cherry tree?”

“Beats me,” he says. “Maybe trying to get a date. I just had a talk with Aishi about this earlier.”

All eyes pivot to Ayano at the back of the group, but Budo’s perplexed stare causes her the most pain somehow. 

“What talk?” Budo presses.

Of course he had to find out like this, and entirely out of context. Ayano swallows down a sigh.

“It’s nothing,” she says flatly, more-so to reassure Budo than anyone else.

“I can save you the conversation,” Itachi says, dropping his arms to his sides. “The school festival’s coming up and I need a date…”

“You need a date?” Sho spits out – she wonders how he stayed silent for so long, because Itachi’s general existence annoys Sho.

“As if any of you have one,” Itachi replies. “So I asked Aishi…”

Ayano states, “I’m not going to the festival with you.”

“Hold on,” Sho interrupts. “This is bull–” A student council member treks past and he censors himself. “–stupid. There’s probably a killer on the loose and you’re worrying about who you’re bringing to the festival?”

“Life goes on,” he says. “You weren’t making this argument when you yelled out at my club. You’re still hooked on club rivalries, but I can’t ask a girl out?”

“It’s Rito’s club now,” Sho bites with a huge grin. “Not yours.”

“‘Yelled’?!” Budo repeats, a little more outraged. “How much did I miss today?”

“That was yesterday,” Shima squeaks unhelpfully.

“Okay– we’re leaving,” Budo decides. “Goodbye, Zametora-kun.”

His say is (usually) supreme rule, so the rest of the club follows after him as he weaves past Itachi.

“See ya,” the redhead calls after them, but none of them respond. 

Now extremely late for their own club activities and weary from their abundant confrontations, they pile into the club room quietly after Budo unlocks the door. They each stall to enter the fitting room.

“Are we actually sparring today?” Sho asks.

Budo gives him a comically empty stare for a second, apparently also still processing recent events – Ayano assumes his exhaustion is catching up to him again, too.

“If you guys feel up for it,” he concedes. Then, he says unexpectedly, “You guys know I don’t like when you’re rude to the Sports Club.”

“But you also don’t like them,” Sho points out.

“Sure, but it doesn’t make us any better to treat them badly,” he replies, rubbing his face. He accidentally tugs on his headband in the process and reaches up to retie it. “I would rather us keep the peace.”

“Do you think he’s innocent?” Shima asks quietly.

A silence falls between them. They all look to Budo, their guiding light and guardrail. Whenever he falters, Ayano senses that the others don’t know what to do.

“I think so,” he confesses and crosses his arms. “He’s annoying, but– I doubt he did it.”

“So…” Shima thinks aloud. “If it’s not him, we should focus on the Basu sisters, and…”

Mina and Juku had remained quiet for much of the afternoon, but Mina speaks up now, “Did you notice who else was pinned to their board as suspects?”

When everyone shakes their heads, she answers her own question, “Megami Saikou.”

“Huh?” Shima immediately spits. “Why?”

“I couldn’t read their notes very well…” Mina fixes her brown bangs. “But I think they theorized that the Student Council or someone connected to Saikou set up the crime for some reason.”

Shima’s hands bury into her short hair. “What if Zametora-senpai was right, and it’s just a master plan to turn all of Akademi against each other? Ohhh–”

Ayano says, “I don’t think it was her.”

“You don’t?” Sho asks. 

“No.” 

The question she was hoping to dodge appears when Mina says, “Jonzu-senpai had also marked ‘the Aishi lineage’ on the board… Why?”

“It’s a long story,” Ayano settles for.

Sho prompts, “You’re not giving us a lot of reasons to prove you aren’t the one who did it.”

“I have nothing to prove,” she states. 

“That’s enough,” Budo sighs. “We’re all tired and on edge. We’ll just call it quits today and meet tomorrow, okay? Everyone, get some rest.”

Everyone packs up and trails out of the door in pairs: Shima and Mina, Sho and Juku. 

Ayano, of course, can’t leave because Budo gently calls her back, “Aya, can we talk?”

She doesn’t like the sound of this. 

She slowly turns back to him, trying not to show too much distaste. His undereyes are as dark as his actual eyes now, after likely twenty-four hours of no sleep.

“Are you sure you don’t need the most rest, Budo-senpai?” she asks in the soft voice that she knows ticks him off.

His handsome features scrunch up like they always do when she pulls that. “What happened with Zametora-kun?”

She meets his stare carefully so she won’t roll her eyes. “Nothing.”

“He asked you out?” He crosses his arms and looks down at her, concerned.

Ayano’s abruptly stricken with her own exhaustion. She hadn’t realized how much energy the day had drained from her until just now, as she’s in front of Budo and he’s pestering her about these foolish interactions. She also hasn’t seen Taro all day, with her running around playing Investigation Team with the club…

“I rejected him,” she replies as calmly as she can. 

“What’s wrong?” He bends down slightly to meet her at eye level; she hates when he does that and looks away.

“Just tired.”

He assesses her for a few seconds before saying, “Walk with me?”

She nods silently because the words are clogged in her throat.  

She’s not just physically tired but she truly tires of masking. She’s normally much better at this, but today has been a hurdle to scale. 

Budo motions her to walk out first. He follows behind her and locks the club door.

The sun is still out, courtesy of the extending daylight, so there’s no safety need for Budo to walk her home. He still does, anyway.

He remains quiet for once, because normally he feels indebted to fill the silent space between them. She supposes he’s also tired, so there’s no energy left for him to make up for. 

There could be worse people accompanying her home. He’s one of the few people she doesn’t feel obligated to fake for, at least.

She plans to silently leave him at her front door, but he asks, “Are you going to eat?”

Ayano stops in the doorway and regards him over her shoulder. “I have leftovers.” 

She senses his question but waits until he asks, “Can I stay for a bit?”

“As long as you won’t be annoying. Or fall asleep.”

Unfortunately, he does both of those things. 

She splits the leftover portions to feed them both, and then he immediately crashes on the first seat he finds: her couch.

Ayano decides it’s not worth the struggle. She searches the closet for a blanket to drape over him and turns out the lights before retiring to her own room.

Thursday, May 15

She would have been better off kicking him out the night before because his presence disrupts many of her morning plans. 

For one, she has to wake him at an ungodly early hour so they won’t be too late. This doesn’t stop her from serving him green tea, though.

He stares at the hot mug as she offers it to him. His hair is angled in five different directions, but he finally looks well-rested.

“This isn’t poisoned, is it?” he asks hoarsely. 

“Why would I do that,” she deadpans in response.

Sufficiently satisfied with her answer, he accepts the mug from her. 

He still stares at her warily, but maybe it’s just an excuse to get an extra look at her in pajamas. It’s too warm for long sleeves and pants, so she’s sure this is the first time Budo has seen her in shorts of any kind. She’d argue that Akademi’s gym uniform is more revealing than this, but whatever.

“I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes,” she says dryly, in a way to urge him to hurry up and enjoy his tea. 

“Aww, not going to school in your cute jammies?” he says, finally taking a sip.

“The same way I’d hope you’re not going to school with eye crusties.”

“Someone’s a cranky-pants in the morning.” 

Budo leans back against the couch, and the only reason Ayano can tell is because she hears his weight creaking against the old cushions. 

She closes her bedroom door and gets dressed for the day, as if she doesn’t have someone’s demonic son on her couch right now. 

They take a detour to Budo’s house so he can clean himself up. She threatens to leave without him, but he somehow convinces her to stay there and wait so they can trek to Akademi together.

While she waits, she stares at an impressive picture she captured of Taro earlier this week, before everyone decided to employ her to be both suspect and investigator of this criminal case. She also has to awkwardly inform Budo’s little sister that she isn’t his girlfriend.

The Martial Arts Club is the first to greet them at Akademi’s gates. 

Though all third-years appear to be normal and wakeful again, the entire group presently stares at Ayano and Budo with an insane side eye. Ayano suspects that she can tell why. 

Budo starts hesitantly, “What is happening?”

Their looks don’t fade. 

Sho is the first to say, “Did you guys spend the night together or something?” Ayano’s suspicions are correct.

“Well, yeah,” Budo answers, but then realizes, “wait, NO.”

“Aha!” Sho quips. “All that rizz and you never use it to your advantage, buddy!”

“What does that even mean? Anyway, we–”

Shima squeals (just like yesterday, a few heads turn in their direction) and butts in, “I’m gonna tape a sign over Budo’s locker saying ‘save your love letters, bro is taken’!”

“His door is closed – besides maybe to Raibaru-chan,” Sho adds. 

Ayano catches Budo’s nervous glance.

Budo’s voice rises a few pitches. “Um. The door is definitely closed to Raibaru, too. But anyway–”

“So you’re saying– if she appeared right here–” Sho points at the empty space on the ground between them, “and asked to go out this weekend, your door is closed? All eggs in one basket?”

Shima corrects, trivially, “–Yan-chan’s basket.”

It’s only 7am, and Ayano already feels her blood pressure rising. This entire thing has been an aggressive way to start a morning, even for her. 

“Remember how I only got two hours of sleep?” Budo cries. “I just fell asleep at her house on accident!”

“Oh…” echoes through the group. 

Budo herds them all forward with dramatic arm movements so they’ll start walking toward the lockers. 

He and Ayano naturally fall to the back of the group, and he murmurs, “Have we really never walked to school together?” 

“I usually walk with Taro-senpai,” Ayano replies, still recovering.  

“‘Walk with’ or follow?”

She doesn’t answer. 

“Never mind.” He goes through another door to find his shoe locker. 

This is the second morning in a row that she’s inadvertently pulled into the Martial Arts Club’s morning festivities. Today, it includes getting Shima a canned coffee from the vending machine.

Ayano feels her palms prickling with sweat and her nails tugging threads loose from her school bag; she hasn’t seen Taro in nearly a full day.

They loiter around one of the many sitting areas that Ayano avoids because voices echo against it too loudly. All of this, when she could be checking on Taro. He should be at the fountain by now… Is he even at school? She expects him to visit Osana in the hospital eventually…

“Ayano!” 

The next time she blinks back into the room, Budo is waving his hand in front of her face. She must have been ignoring him for a while, if he busted out her full first name and not ‘Aya-chan.’

“You spaced out,” he says. “Everything okay?”

No, everything is not okay. She hears Shima and Sho fighting with the vending machine somewhere behind her. 

With an inaudible sigh, she says, “Yes, I’m fine.”

He crosses his arms and– oh no. He’s giving her one of his Concerned Looks. 

Although Budo is much more of a worrier than she originally expected, he doesn’t often show it in his face. Something about that look makes her feel see-through, and she doesn’t like it much.

“What?” she prompts, a little more defensively than she means to.

He opens his mouth. Immediately, he closes it again and starts eyeing something behind her. 

“What is it?” 

He doesn’t move his eyes. “Don’t look behind you.”

“Why?” Ayano asks slowly.

“Just don’t look.”

“I’m looking.” She begins to turn around.

“NO DON’T–”

Ayano has already turned. She sees Asu Rito talking to Taro further down the corridor, apparently making plans if the way their phones are out says enough. This is not how she wanted to see him today.

Without another word, Ayano blinks and advances toward the staircase in the opposite direction.

“I’m not doing this,” she says. “I’m leaving.”

She nearly bumps into the Student Council member Kuroko Kamenaga as she flees, but she swerves in time and escapes to a higher floor.

She needs fresh air, and a moment to catch up. 

On her way up the stairs, she unlocks her phone. 

Info-chan

You: Do you know who the culprit is?

Info-chan: of course i do.

Info-chan: but that’s my little secret.

You: I should have guessed.

You: No hints? Nothing?

Info-chan: for a price.

Info-chan: i’m unsure of your motive.

Info-chan: getting rid of osana was your priority a few weeks ago.

You: It’s none of your concern. 

Very helpful. 

She sighs, and it only slightly decongests her thoughts. 

Her head has felt so noisy this week, worse than usual. Maybe the stress of winning– earning Taro’s affection is finally taking its toll. Any more of this and she’ll start sprouting gray hairs.

In hindsight, she should have stayed to watch the interaction between Taro and Asu unfold. 

She slows her pace; she can’t go back now, though. Ughhh–

Once she reaches the second floor, she walks directly into a ‘friendly conversation’ between Fureddo and another Student Council member, Aoi Ryugoku. Living up to her Enforcer title, she seems to be scolding Fureddo over something. 

Ayano hears her say, “Don’t care. Any more out of your club, and you’ll disband. Got it?” before they both notice her there and end the conversation. 

Aoi’s singular eye narrows at Ayano as she passes, but she steadies a look just as mean until the girl descends the stairs. 

Still worked up, Fureddo immediately starts, “What do you want, Aishi?”

It’s not like she asked to stumble into this discussion! “Did something happen?”

Fureddo sighs and drops his taut shoulders. “That was our second warning. The Student Council wants us to quit the investigation.”

“Why?”

“Headmaster Shuyona this, Megami Saikou that,” Fureddo mutters, nearly collapsing back into the wall behind him. “Akademi’s reputation…”

“I assume you won’t listen.”

He gives her a look. He stares at her like that frequently, with a squinted stare as if he’s processing her very being. She’s not sure if it’s malignant or just… him.

“We’re so close,” he says instead, quietly. “Rojasu talked to one of the Basus. She had a cover story, but… it has to be them.”

“What do you plan to do if you solve it?” 

“‘When,’” Fureddo corrects with another look. “And we’ll take it to the police.”

“Even though they have already closed the case?” Ayano prompts.

He hesitates and then declares, “Yes. With the evidence we’ll find, they have to,” but she can sense the weakness. 

She chooses not to respond so his words can settle into the thick air conditioning around them. 

This is a mistake because Fureddo follows up, “What are you doing up here, anyway? You don’t even have your escort, Masuta.”

She states, “He’s not my–”

Budo’s voice says, “Aya-chan?”

Awful timing. Ayano glances back as Budo appears at her shoulder. 

Budo glances her over (for what, she doesn’t know) and steps forward, just enough to form a barrier between her and Fureddo. 

He crosses his arms, tenser than usual, but he is still admirably good at playing nice. “Hey, Jonzu-kun. Is something wrong?”

“Forget ‘escort,’ it’s more like ‘bodyguard,’” Fureddo mumbles. “Don’t worry, I’m leaving. I was just telling Aishi how the Student Council is trying to shut our investigation down.”

“Wait, what?” Budo drops his arms. 

Akane Toriyasu walks past on her own patrol and glances at them. They each glance at her in return, waiting for her to vanish before they continue. 

Fureddo adjusts the straps of his camera around his neck. “Something about how we’re ‘causing a stir’ for no reason because there is no ‘criminal plot.’ If there truly wasn’t, our investigation wouldn’t be a problem, right?”

Budo doesn’t agree nor disagree, instead making an unsure noise. “You should be careful.”

“Oh, I know,” Fureddo says quietly. “If the headmaster and Saikou-san decide something is wrong, they feel no guilt in getting rid of it. I’m okay with risking my expulsion for this. The others…”

Budo tilts his head. “They aren’t?”

“No, they’re just as dedicated…” he mumbles. “But I don’t want to drag them down with me. I need to get to the bottom of this.”

“We’re sticking with you,” Budo says lowly, unusually serious. “They can’t expel all of us, right?”

Fureddo sputters out a weak laugh that surprises both of them. He nods in surrender.

“We’ll see you later today?” he asks.

Budo gives an exuberant thumbs-up. Once Fureddo is gone, he turns back to Ayano.

“Are you okay?” 

“Yes.”

“Did something… happen? Well, besides Yamada and– you know.”

“No.”

He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms again, loosely like usual this time. Did other students really see him as her escort– no, bodyguard?

“You look upset,” he comments.

“Because you’re following me.”  

“No ‘thanks’ for coming to your rescue?” he presses, not taking her seriously at all.

“No.”

“What would you have done if he went in for a tackle?” He lunges at her, arms out, as if imitating the tackle, himself. She steps back easily.

“I would have handled myself,” she says calmly. “I’m surprised you left the others.”

He straightens up. “I didn’t want to be responsible if Shima knocked over the vending machine. Also, maybe my Aya-chan Senses were tingling.”

“You should get your sensors checked, then.”

“Ayano,” he says suddenly, and she tenses at the tone, “can I ask you something?”

Oh god. “Depends.”

He glances around at their peers nearby. Someone greets him as they pass.

Ayano can tell that this isn’t a good environment for whatever he plans to ask her, but he goes in, anyway, “The 1989 cases–”

“Hi, Budo,” a high pitched voice says. 

Recognition seems to hit Budo’s face instantly. Ayano bristles. 

She fears that it’s Ajia spawning in with her damn food tray again, but–

Oh, no. It’s worse.

Raibaru Fumetsu approaches the two of them. 

She normally appears peppy and lifted upward on puppet strings, from her cheery expression to the gravity-defying curls of her ponytails. Today, her eyes are swollen and she droops like a neglected plant as she walks. Even her skin doesn’t seem as bright.

“Oh,” Budo says, almost as high pitched as her. “Hey, Raibaru-chan.”

Ayano glances between the two of them.

She doesn’t like this. 

Things are already off to an awful start – Raibaru goes in for a hug that Budo reciprocates immediately, albeit awkwardly. 

As he pulls away, he asks, “How are you holding up?”

Raibaru sighs and takes a step back. “I’m okay. Osana is doing better, so… she should be able to go home soon.”

“That’s great,” he says gently.

“I just can’t believe someone would do this,” she whimpers, beginning to crumble. “And– and I wasn’t even there! I could have–”

Budo reaches out for her muscular shoulders to pacify her. “It’s not your fault. What matters is that Najimi-chan is safe.”

As he lets go, Ayano scoots closer to him in an attempt to communicate something. She doesn’t know what. 

This brings Raibaru’s attention to her, which she perhaps intended. 

Ayano softens the blow by saying, “I’m sorry for what happened. Let me know if you need anything, Fumetsu-chan.”

She nods and looks seconds from bursting. She quickly excuses herself before she can cry. 

The past few days have been much too eventful for Ayano’s tastes. She misses when she could walk one meter without being stopped by someone. 

Apparently, it’s too much for Budo, as well. She finally looks up at his face and sees that he looks comically slow, like he’s lagging behind by a few minutes. 

Ayano breaks him from his trance, “Was ‘hugging your ex-girlfriend’ on your bingo sheet for today?”

“She is not–” He stops. “No, it wasn’t.”

She turns back toward the stairs as a silent way to nudge him back to their club members on the first floor. 

“Wait, wait,” he says, then points upward at the ceiling. 

“The roof?” Ayano questions. “Why?”

He doesn’t answer and starts backing up to the other staircase. Ayano reluctantly follows.

The air is grossly humid even this early in the morning. She unconsciously smooths down her ponytail in anticipation of the frizz. This is the time of the semester when everyone complains until June 1st, when they’re finally allowed to wear their summer uniforms to withstand the heat. Ayano doesn’t mind too much, either way.

Budo is one of the complainers. He immediately squints at the sunlight like a vampire and rolls up his long sleeves just a bit. 

“Where are we going,” she deadpans.

“Somewhere.”

“Are you worried about Fumetsu-chan?”

She watches his face soften. “Yeah. A little. Things are just… weird.”

“Weird?” she pries.

He makes a noise like he doesn’t plan to talk about it. 

Budo’s generally an open book, but there are certain times that Ayano feels she hits a wall and he refuses to let it down. Raibaru is one of those topics that makes him clam up. 

She chooses to let it slide for now.

He leads her to their usual lunchtime spot. Kuu Dere is there reading, so he wanders in another direction. 

As she follows, he asks, “Can I ask my question from earlier?”

“Before Fumetsu-chan interrupted,” Ayano says slowly. “Yes.”

He seems to let that slide, too. “If you don’t mind me asking… Why is the Photography Club so suspicious of you?”

She narrows her eyes at him as they walk, side by side. “You didn’t know?”

Budo blinks. “Should I know?”

“No, it’s– You defended me, but you didn’t know why they targeted me in the first place?”

“Yeah… Why?”

She doesn’t understand him. “Never mind. They blame me because–”

“Hi, Masuta-senpai!” a black-haired boy appears from nowhere. Mantaro Sashimasu, from the Sports Club. 

“Sashimasu-kun,” Budo greets (the first-year looks as if he might faint from being acknowledged by Budo), “what are you doing here?”

He adjusts the goggles on his head with one hand and gestures in the direction of the gym with the other. “The Photography Club is investigating the gym, or something. Exiled us and the Drama Club.”

“Ah.” Budo glances at Ayano. “Sorry, I would stay and talk but–”

“OH!” Mantaro seems to recognize Ayano’s presence now. “Oh. Sorry. Yeah. Go ahead. Bye, Masuta-senpai.”

Budo flees quickly but kindly. Ayano follows and they finally find a secluded spot to stand. 

And with ten minutes until class– spectacular. This morning has felt like an entire day already.

“Okay, now–” Budo sighs.

He turns to face her, one arm propped on the rooftop’s railing. Ayano stares back. 

“Are you really gonna make me ask again?” he grumbles.

“No,” she decides. “Do you remember Jonzu-kun mentioning a girl being taken to court for murder?”

“Yeah.”

“That girl… is my mother.”

“Oh.”

Budo crosses his arms and leans his hip against the barrier. Ayano tries not to stare. 

“That’s all?” he questions. 

“What do you mean?” she asks, eyebrows knitted.

“Well– okay, your mom went to court. It’s not like being a criminal runs in the family, does it?”

“About that…”

“Wait. You don’t talk about your family much,” he says gently.

“There’s not much to talk about.”

“You’re making this very hard for me.”

“I’m not trying to,” she says. “Besides, class starts soon. It’s best not to get into it now.”

“Oops. I forgot that I’m a student.” He checks the time on his phone. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

“Thank you. Just know that I have a personal tie to the case, and I want to solve it.”

Budo sighs and stares at the garden below the railing. “I’m nervous that Jonzu-kun is going to end up with a cold case if he’s not fast enough.”

“I have a few ideas,” Ayano says carefully. 

She explains a simplified version of the plan she’d constructed in bed last night. Budo’s eyes gradually widen as he hears the inexcusable aspects like stealing Sakyu Basu’s phone from the locker room or doing dirty deeds for Info-chan to discover helpful information.

He’s silent for a few seconds after she finishes talking. 

“What?” she says.

“Literally everything you just said is illegal,” Budo replies.

She stares at him, unimpressed. “Do you have any better ideas?”

Budo bites his lip as he thinks. 

Ayano begins to mock him for doubting her, but he finally says, “Maybe we can send in someone else to ask the Basu sisters questions. Someone harmless. If it actually is them, they’ll be suspicious of both of our clubs.”

“What do you mean by ‘harmless’?”

“You want me to talk to her?” Kokona blinks big doe eyes at them.

“Yes,” Ayano replies. “You want to help Fumetsu-chan, don’t you?”

The first-year stares down at the floor unsurely. “Well, yeah… but… are you sure I’m suited for this?”

“Definitely.” Budo smiles, always kinder than Ayano. “You’re good with people.”

It’s lunchtime, and they’ve gently secluded Kokona off on the roof. Shima managed to wave Kokona down after class and direct her to meet with them. Just Ayano and Budo talk to her now, while the rest of the Martial Arts Club eats in their normal rooftop spot. 

Kokona still looks doubtful, but Budo is convinced that she’s a good fit to be a decoy. Ayano chooses to trust him for once and play along. 

“What would I even ask them?” she frets, glancing anxiously at each passing figure over their shoulders.

Budo clearly hasn’t thought that one through, so Ayano answers, “Just their thoughts on Najimi-chan’s accident may be enough. If you’d like, you can indirectly ask them what they were doing on the day of the incident, or what they think about the Photography Club’s investigation.”

“How would I–?”

Ayano perks her voice up by a few notes, “‘I didn’t even hear it happen, and I was right outside of the gym, too! Has the Photography Club interrogated you yet?’”

Kokona’s face shifts from shock to awe. “Wow, Yan-chan! You make it look easy…”

“Scarily easy,” Budo mutters from beside her. She drops her bimbo act just in time to shoot him a look.

“This would be a good chance to test my Drama Club skills…” Kokona says, her bright purple nails tapping at her chin. “Okay, count me in.”

“Sweet!” Budo chirps. “Thank you, Haruka-chan…”

Kokona bounces on her heels, suddenly excited. “Do you think Sunobu-senpai will give me a better role in the play if I do well?”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Ayano mumbles. 

Sho is the first to acknowledge them when they return, “Jeez, what took you guys so long? Actually– do I wanna know?”

Budo sighs loudly and plops on the bench beside Juku. Ayano sits down, much more demurely, beside Mina and pulls her bento out of her bag.

Budo explains, “Haruka-chan is going to talk to one of the Basus before classes end.”

“Have you checked your texts?” Shima presses, halfway through stealing Mina’s food. “Jonzu-senpai asked us to meet after school.”

“In the Photography Club?”

Shima shakes her head. “No – behind the school. ‘Laying low,’ something-something.”

Mina shoves the girl away. “If Haruka-chan has news by then, that would be great. Should we add her to the group chat?”

Budo tugs his phone out of his back pocket. “Nah, I’ll just text her.”

“Oh–” Juku perks up and looks at Ayano. “Inkyu Basu was actually looking for you, Yan-chan.”

“Me?” Ayano almost spits. “For…?”

“Dunno. You were with Budo, but we didn’t tell her, obviously.”

It seems like everyone wants a piece of Ayano this week. 

She has no clue what Inkyu would need from her, though. Perhaps she should have been the decoy instead of Kokona. 

Budo hums noncommittally as he taps on his phone – he’s never been a good multitasker. 

“Budo,” Mina says. 

“Hmm?”

“Food. Eat.”

“Oh. Right, sorry.” His eyes remain glued to his phone as he reaches for his bento. “I think Shin is about to stop by.”

“Why–?” Mina starts.

“Is he bringing Supana with him?” Sho cuts in, bright eyed.

“I don’t know!” Budo waves him off. “I think it’s something actually serious, so be normal, please?”

“When am I not normal?” Sho presses.

“When you’re thirsting over a first-year,” Budo mumbles in response, half distracted as he texts again.

Most of their mouths drop open, though Ayano just eats her food quietly as she watches. 

Juku says, “Dude, I think he just called you a creep.”

Sho makes an unsophisticated noise, his face bright red. Ayano has never seen him flush before. “This is coming from the guy who has underclassmen flocking at his feet on the daily!”

Budo abruptly stands, checked out of the conversation. It’s quickly revealed why: he walks Shin and Oka over to their hidden spot, the latter clenching at her sleeves and curling in to herself. 

No longer in a deep sleep in the Occult Club like yesterday, Shin easily towers over both Oka and Budo despite how lanky he is. Some strands of his hair stick up oddly with the humidity, but most of it curtains over his forehead and eyes. 

He walks closer to Budo as he mumbles to him, but his hand is on Oka’s small shoulder. 

“Whoa,” Sho says, still a little red, “is everything okay?”

None of them acknowledge his question. They get close enough that they can hear Oka say, “It feels like… a presence is…”

She claws at the air behind her head indicatively. 

Shin says to Budo, “She gets anxious like this sometimes.”

“This feels worse…” Oka grimaces, clawing her long uniform sleeves.

“You can sit with us if you want,” Budo offers. “We won’t let anything happen.”

Oka nods. Everyone scoots a little closer together on the benches to allow more space. Ayano unfortunately has to press her leg against Mina’s so Oka can sit beside her.

Thankfully, Oka doesn’t talk to her. She fidgets with her own pale fingers and twists her dark hair, not eating. Budo and Shin talk quietly, probably about whatever is happening.

Above all things, Ayano is nosy and good at faking. She asks softly, “Ruto-chan, what’s going on?”

“Something feels… wrong…” she mumbles toward her lap. “My black obsidian… must be… ineffective against this energy…”

Okay. Ayano’s lost her. 

“Did something happen?” she tries.

Oka’s curls spring around as she shakes her head. “No… Not that I can– It just… feels like everyone is… staring at me.”

Ayano glances at Shin and Budo, still deep in conversation. Shin seems worried, so this must be at least somewhat unusual. 

Ayano and Juku walk Oka to class, since they’re on the same floor. Ayano makes eye contact with Inkyu Basu as she leaves. Odd…

Classes proceed agonizingly slowly. The bell chimes and Juku is already at Ayano’s desk, waiting for her to pack her things. 

They walk down the hall to Oka’s classroom so they can escort her to her club meeting, but she’s already gone. In fact, much of the class is deserted.

“That’s weird.” Juku peers through the classroom window. “Maybe she’s feeling better? I’ll let Budo know.”

With one task removed from their list, they descend the stairs to meet the Photography Club at one of the sitting areas behind the school. Shima and Mina are already there. Budo and Sho appear shortly after. Kokona is notably absent.

“I thought I saw Haruka-chan come this way…” Shima murmurs. “Maybe she’s in the bathroom.”

Fureddo pauses. “What is she–?”

“She’s an ally,” Shima answers emphatically, no doubt a gay joke. “She talked to Inkyu Basu.”

The Photography Club lights up, although still skeptical. Sukubi and Rojasu stop chewing their shared snacks to listen.

“Does she have news?”

“Probably.”

Fureddo drags his hand across his forehead. “Okay, so we’ll wait for her? Did you guys find anything in the gym?”

Beruma and Dafuni shake their heads solemnly. “No… We thought we saw Sakyu’s ring in the storage closet, but it wasn’t…”

Dafuni shows Fureddo a picture of the ring that she took on her camera. Ayano didn’t know that they actually use those cameras; they give the impression that they are just for show.

Students wander past, but none acknowledge them. The only ones to acknowledge them are the Sports Club members running their normal laps, casting them glances all the while.

Fureddo squints. “Is… Do you guys have bad blood with the Sports Club or something?”

They ignore Itachi blatantly flicking them off from two hundred meters away. 

“Nope. Totally fine,” Budo says, arms crossed.

“Okay,” Fureddo doesn’t bother to press. “We’re getting to a standstill, but it won’t stay this way. If we stay persistent and cover our bases…”

“We have no way to prove anything,” Beruma says sternly. “We can ask questions and look for clues all we want, but unless we have solid evidence–”

“Actually,” Shima interrupts, “Inkyu Basu was asking around for Yan-chan earlier. And we still have Haruka-chan– if she comes.”

Fureddo levels a look at Ayano that drags her to the forefront of the discussion. 

“Did you ever talk to her?” he asks.

“No,” Ayano replies. “I can look for her tomorrow.”

“Um, no,” Budo insists. “If she’s somehow behind this, we don’t know what she might want with you, or if she’s going to try to hurt you and succeed this time.”

“It’s worth the risk,” she says.

“If she wants to do it,” Fureddo says, shrugging. “We can send someone with her as backup.”

“We’re not sending anyone,” Budo sighs. “If she runs into Ayano, we’ll deal with it then. Until then–”

A shrill voice calls, “Whatcha doing?”

They all peer around for the source, just to find the shortest Student Council member, Shiromi Torayoshi, sauntering up to them. 

They shouldn’t have expected much better, standing in a circle like they’re performing an Occult Club ritual in the middle of the courtyard. Of course they would attract her attention.

They open up their circle as she approaches, reluctantly facing her. She keeps her arms looped behind her head as she scans over each of their faces.

“Locking your club room didn’t get the message across?” Shiromi asks Fureddo, who casts a glare at her. “And you’ve brought all these people into your schemes.”

Shiromi makes eye contact with Budo. Ayano instantly grits her teeth.

“I really didn’t see this coming from you, Masuta-senpai,” Shiromi comments. “A lot of students look up to you.”

Budo doesn’t counter her, likely to stay respectful. Ayano wants to claw her face off.

She starts to say something, but Sho grabs her arm and she stops; they can’t risk any worse of a penalty. 

Mina suddenly asks, “Student Council members have keys to all of the club rooms, don’t they?” 

“Yeah. What’s it matter?” Shiromi says.

“Were any of your keys stolen recently?” Mina questions. 

“Not that we know of. If anything was stolen, it’s back where it belongs now.”

Mina’s face contorts with thought. 

Beruma picks up where she leaves off, “You wouldn’t happen to know how someone entered the locked Occult Club and took their ritual knife, would you?”

“Don’t know,” she answers, disinterested.

The group falls quiet, sensing that they’re just talking in circles.

“If you guys are done interrogating me,” Shiromi says, “then scram. I don’t really feel like calling the headmaster right now.”

Unable to overrule her sentencing, the group disperses. The Martial Arts Club goes in one direction and the Photography Club goes in another. 

Satisfied, Shiromi wanders off on the rest of her outdoor patrol. 

Once she’s far enough away, Budo guides the club around the perimeter of the pool and back in the direction that the Photography Club went. 

They’re silent until Sho grumbles, “Of course we had to get the least talkative Student Council member. Mina was onto something.”

Shima whispers, “Do you actually think it could be the Student Council, Mina?”

“They might have something to do with it,” she answers firmly. 

Ironically, the Photography Club had the same idea and runs into them as they’re rounding the last side of the pool walls. 

Shima immediately asks, “They locked the Photography Club? Is that why we’re meeting out here?”

Fureddo winces and glances back at his disheartened clubmates. “Yeah. Our notes and photos are still in there, too.”

“What’s the plan now?” Dafuni asks, her smooth voice shaken for once.

Some higher being has already decided their fate before Fureddo can speak. 

From across the walkway, the gym’s double doors burst open. 

Oka emerges and glances around in a frenzy, unsteady and scared like an abandoned fawn. When she spots their group, she dashes toward them.

Behind her is–

“Haruka-chan?!” Shima yelps.

It happens too fast to follow. 

Sho yanks Oka behind him before Kokona can reach her. Oka’s legs give out so Dafuni and Beruma swiftly catch her by the shoulders. Budo shields the group on instinct.

Kokona realizes too late the position she has put herself in. By then, Budo and Fureddo have already pinned her to the ground.

She’s defenseless, on her stomach, both arms glued to her back. Juku snatches up the syringe that the girl dropped in her struggle.

“It’s not–!” Kokona stammers, muffled with her cheek pressed against the ground.

Ayano squints. Something looks off.

She steps carefully past Budo, closer to Kokona.

Kneeling down, she tugs at one of her shiny purple twin tails. She doesn’t wince in pain, but instead in terror as her full head of hair falls right off. 

A bald cap sits underneath. It’s a wig.

“Wait–” Shima shrieks. “Sakyu Basu?! Then where is Haruka-chan?”

The revealed Sakyu’s voice hardens into a bite as reality strikes. “It’s not what it looks like! Get your hands off of me!”

“Get Torayoshi,” Budo orders, unfaltering in his restraint. 

Shima and Mina run off immediately to find the Student Council member. Sho still shields Oka, who has collapsed to her knees in a hyperventilation fit and dragged Beruma and Dafuni to the ground with her.

Once the excitement settles, the shutter sound of four cameras echoes through the group: the Photography Club doing what they do best. 

“We were right!” Rojasu shrieks, jumping up and down. 

“LET’S GO!” Sukubi jumps with him.

Fureddo laughs borderline-maniacally. “All of this, and it falls right into our laps. Oh, life is beautiful.”

He poses over Sakyu’s restrained form for Rojasu’s next picture. How Ayano got involved with this stupid group of investigators – let alone how said group solved the case – is beyond her.

The police arrive and quickly apprehend Sakyu Basu. 

They take Inkyu Basu in for questioning as well, but she seemed to be only guilty of association. Sakyu is the ringleader, and her sister supposedly was unaware of her actions until her arrest.

Although it will take time to prove Sakyu’s involvement in Osana’s case, there is no doubt that she will be punished for sedating and impersonating Kokona Haruka, as well as attempted-something of Oka Ruto. 

Whether it was genuine skill (maybe somewhat) or dumb luck (95% of it), they succeeded in Fureddo’s sole task to uncover Akademi’s near-murderer and prevent a repeat of 1989. Above all else, their true talent came from being in the right place at the right time. 

It’s late in the evening by the time the police excuse all students from school, so the Martial Arts Club walks together for as long as they can. 

Ayano wants to ensure Taro arrives home safely, more than anyone else on this green earth. But she gives up when Budo nudges her in the direction of her neighborhood with a rushed goodbye to their clubmates.

He’s currently sitting on her couch as he orders dinner for the two of them since Ayano lacks the energy to cook. He also doesn’t want to leave her alone, although she insists that she’s fine.

It’s getting late enough that she fears this will be a repeat of yesterday, Budo passing out on her couch until morning. 

But the blanket he used is still in place and he looks too comfortable to ask him to leave, with his shoes and blazer off and his headband twirling in one hand as he types. 

While they wait for their food, Ayano can’t get something off of her mind. It presses at the back of her head until she opens her chat log and begins to type.

Info-chan

You: It was you, wasn’t it?

Info-chan: you’ll need to be more specific.

Info-chan: i don’t know what you mean.

You: Yes, you do. You tried to employ a killer who turned out to be lousy and failed.

Info-chan: you can’t blame me. 

Info-chan: our agreement was that you’d make osana-chan suffer in exchange for my help.

Info-chan: you didn’t do that, so i turned to the next best thing.

You: Sakyu Basu is the next best thing?

Info-chan: you have much more in common than you think.

Info-chan: you’re both desperate for something and willing to turn to sources like me.

You: You’re despicable.

Info-chan: i’ll hear from you tomorrow <3

“What’s up?” Budo cuts into the silence.

Ayano squeezes her eyes shut and then opens them, tiredly. 

Without a word, she walks up to the couch and turns her phone screen for Budo to read.

He holds her hand steady so he can skim the messages. She watches his face start to scrunch up.

He looks up at her, the same cringed look on both of their faces.

“Are you kidding?” he says. “She not only knew the whole time– but it was actually her pulling the strings?”

Ayano sighs deeply and turns off her phone. “Maybe I should have flirted back with her and she would have spared us a few days of investigating.”

“Info-chan flirted with you?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Ayano prompts, wary from his tone. 

“No, no, just–” He blinks, lagging like he’s missing a software upgrade. “I have more competition than I thought.”

Ayano chooses not to decode that statement and instead replies, “So do I, apparently.”