“He really told you to do that?” Matoi scoffed incredulously. It was the rare time when all of the regular members of the club were assembled in one place. Not for a concert or practice, but for the monthly committee meeting. We had to prepare documents for the council with expected expenses for approval and a curriculum of activities that we would be doing. It was how they decided what clubs were taking themselves seriously.

“I know, unbelievable right?”

Johnny tapped my shoulder, “Overnight feminist sensation over here.”

I rolled my eyes, “Shut up.”

Saaya sighed, “I think I saw it on the talk show this morning – I didn’t stay to watch it.”

“Good, that means it’s nearly past it’s sell-by date. And they can get off my back about it.” I shuffled about a few of the papers that had been put in front of me. “All I did was twist some guy’s finger a bit.”

“Hm, but standing up to perverts like them is really brave. Some of them might even get violent. My auntie was hospitalized by one of them once. It wasn’t too serious thankfully,” Saaya regaled. “Maybe it’ll make some of them think twice about it in the future.”

“Not everybody is totally butch like Miyako though,” Johnny snickered.

Saaya frowned, “Butch? She looks the same as her sister.”

“Without the style, or the grace, or the manners…”

“I’m sitting right here, asshole.”

“See?”

“Don’t expect me to sit back and let you insult me.”

“Reina wouldn’t insult me.”

“She should because you’re a prick.”

Matoi slapped the table, “Alright, enough of the double act. We need to finish up these proposals.” The argument was defused, and we settled down to finish off the timetable for the coming month. “Did you make any progress on getting a new gig yet?”

Johnny squinted, “Maybe. There’s a restaurant nearby looking for slow acts. But I don’t think I’d be any good at that. I tried to get Miyako to sing but she won’t.”

“You didn’t even know I could sing until a few days ago.”

“Yeah and you’re really good at it. The soothing voice of a woman is much better suited for that kind of thing, don’t you think?” I shook my head and went back to my work, but Johnny wouldn’t let it lie. “Have you heard her? Matoi, Saaya?”

Matoi rubbed out a mistake, “No.”

“I’m just saying that Miyako could take the lead on this one.”

Kei stuck his nose in, “If she doesn’t want to do it, she doesn’t want to do it.” He quickly leaned in and changed the subject, “Did you hear about Toya’s band? They had a big bust up yesterday.”

“I did. They had something coming up but now it looks like they’re breaking up,” Matoi grimaced, “It was a big argument.”

“What’s Toya doing about it?”

“Nothing – from what I’ve heard.”

I’d seen Toya hanging around the corridors with his friends on occasion but never talked to him personally. I wracked my mind for the members of the band. It was much bigger than our four-piece rock ensemble. “Didn’t they have some of the guys from the orchestra club?”

“It was a jazz band – they had trumpeters and piano players and everything.”

“They’ll be kicking down our door tomorrow and asking to join here.”

Toya’s band was not part of any club. All of the members brought their own instruments and had to find their own place to practice together. It was a huge pain to organize something like that. But it showed in how dedicated they were. They were very talented. It was a shame that they’d hit a rough patch.

The conversation was interrupted by a knocking on the door. It slid open to reveal Reina, who was stood beside my teacher. She waved me over. I sighed and left the table, “Looks like I’m not done with this yet.”

“We’re nearly done anyway,” Matoi grinned, “Keep it clean.”

I walked through the doorway like a condemned inmate. Reina had a nervous look on her face, and as soon as he started speaking, I understood why, “The letter you gave me was… illuminating. But that being said, the principal was furious. He ordered me to march down here with your sister and get you to rewrite it.”

“If what I wrote is such a problem – he should write it himself. In the end he just wants me to say what he wants. So what difference does it make to me?”

“I don’t disagree with how you feel. But I don’t think that you’d trust him to write that. There has to be a compromise somewhere here.”

“Why?”

“Because compromising is what adults do. Sometimes you’ve got to do something that you don’t like or make changes to something you really care about that you don’t want to. Either way, this is your letter. Don’t tell him that I said this, but I think that he’ll get found out right away if he tried to write it for you.”

Reina nodded along, “You don’t want the principal to write it for you, do you?”

“No. But I don’t want to apologise for it either. What is this letter even for?”

“The principal wants to release it as a statement for parents and the press.”

“And he can’t do that himself? Why do I have to write it?”

“Would you like my help Miyako? I can assist in making a letter that is much more family friendly!”

Okay, it’s time to fess up. The letter I’d written wasn’t really an apology at all. If anything it was a scathing indictment of the way I’d been treated since. A sideshow for everybody to poke and prod at, having the blame lay at my feet even though I was just defending my sister. I’d had it. So the letter I wrote was an angry one, insisting that I’d done nothing wrong and that I wasn’t going to offer any apologies for my actions. I’d shoved the paper into his hands and stormed away so that he couldn’t ask me any questions.

“Didn’t it make you feel uncomfortable Reina? You don’t seem nearly as angry as I am.”

She grimaced, “I suppose. But I wouldn’t want you to lose out on school. If we can act and still maintain our lives, I think that’s the best way.”

“It looks like that’s out of the question now.”

My teacher clapped his hands together, “I need an answer. If it’s really such a bother I can draft a statement for the principal instead. He’s too hung up on having the words come from your mouth. I think it’s our responsibility to speak for you, especially when it regards to the operation of the school.”

I hated being put on the spot like this. It was a tough question to answer. If I let him handle things, I might be able to get away with not saying anything – a milquetoast letter from the teachers saying that they won’t be answering any press questions and to respect the student’s privacy. But that also might come with it’s own problems. What if they said something I didn’t like? Or offered an olive branch to the piece of shit who put his hands on Reina?

I wouldn’t be able to write something acceptable on my own. I was too emotionally charged. I nearly tore through the paper when I was writing the last one. It made my blood boil to even think about it. If I was being introspective, I might have wondered why I was feeling so defensive about Reina…

“Just write something yourself. If you want the press to stop calling, it should be easy to ask them to stop right?”

The teacher nodded, “That’s probably for the best. Jeeze, I don’t know what the principal is thinking sometimes.” He rubbed a hand through his messy hair before turning to leave. Reina was left behind.

“What do you think?”

“Hm. It’s your choice Miyako. Just do what you think is right.”

“Hah, what’s right? I don’t even know what’s right anymore.”

I felt a hand push my back out of the doorway, I turned around the find Kei and Matoi in my place. Matoi held up a stack of papers neatly organized into a folder, “Perfect timing Prez, we have our papers right here.” Reina took the folder from him and tucked it under her arm.

Kei pointed a thumb at Matoi, “We conned him into playing piano with us for this next gig. Since we’re trying something slower and all.”

“When did that get agreed on?”

“When you weren’t in the room,” he smirked, “Johnny is still bleating on about making you the frontwoman.”

I groaned, “If I do this for him, will he shut up about it and never ask me again?”

Johnny’s head poked out between the pair, “Yes.”

“Fine, I’ll sing for you. But as soon as we’re done, you’re back in front again.”

“Nice. Well, we’ll need to get some new tracks lined up. Something a bit chiller for the folks in the restaurant. Something nice and romantic.”

“You wouldn’t know romance if it hit you over the head,” Kei pushed him back into the room. “Thanks Miyako, maybe we’ll actually stick the landing on this one, yeah?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

I was dreading it. I had confidence in my ability to sing, especially with the new vocal chords that god had seen fit to give me, but the real kicker was being out in front. When I was the guitarist I could hide off to the side and keep my head down. Being in front induced no small amount of anxiety in me. I knew that if I wanted to get over it, I’d need to confront that fear head on though.

Also, romance? From me of all people?

“I’m going to take your files back to the council room, are you finished for the day Miyako?” Reina asked. I looked over to Matoi who nodded.

“Looks like it. Let’s go.”

I waved the others goodbye and followed Reina to the clubroom. She unlocked the door and stepped inside, quickly depositing the club’s folder on a pile with many others. “We’re going to have a lot of work tomorrow.”

“Do you think I should have written that letter? I’m kind of regretting it now.”

Reina leaned against the table and crossed her arms, “I think you did the right thing for that moment. I’m very flattered that you’d put yourself in harm’s way for me.”

“If we’re family now, I’m going to act like it.”

Reina smiled, “Thank you. But I don’t think there’s a right way to deal with the fallout. No matter what you do, people may misinterpret your words or make judgements based on falsities. Perhaps waiting for the issue to go away is the correct answer.” She shrugged. “People have short memories. I’m sure in a week they won’t even remember this.”

My life was a play, and a God had decided to afflict me with dramatic irony.