Chapter 12: The Lovers, Inverted

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Winter semester closed in around me, cutting off all the chances that I’d squandered over the break.

It was a jarring experience, coming back to classes after the complicated ordeal of my first shrine visit of the year. My heart had ached when I saw Saya together with Reika-chan, my taller gyaru hanging off my childhood friend’s arm; Christmas had been so disastrous that I’d thought they might have abandoned me altogether, Saya deciding to perhaps pursue Reika-chan over me. Ultimately, my fears had proved unfounded, but the fact that I had fears at all showed just how strong my feelings for both of them truly were.

And that was the problem.

I had missed the window of opportunity to confess to either of my friends, while also closing off my relationship with Runa. I’d backed myself into a corner, and then bricked myself in. Every interaction felt so awkward now, drying up all of my words. I lived in the same room as Reika-chan, and yet I still couldn’t work up the courage to say anything to her. It felt wrong to confess, when I still hadn’t properly answered Saya ⸺ and more than that, I hadn’t told her the truth about “Saeko”, as little of it as I actually knew.

“Hoshino-chan.”

Reflexively, I reached for the two necklaces that hung from my neck, gripping the tokens of affection in my greed-stained hands. Despite how I’d treated her, and the revelation of my selfishness, Saya had still been willing to offer me this comfort ⸺ and I’d hung it next to the symbol of her sister’s claim to me. It felt wrong to leave either of them behind in my room, but I knew it had to hurt Saya to see the platinum ring that dangled next to her own charm; whenever we were together, her eyes were drawn to it immediately, coloring her expressions with a disapproving scowl.

“Hoshino-chan.”

Frustratingly-enough, I still loved Runa; I refused to believe that her assertion that she’d tricked me was actually true. Certainly, she held little affection for me as a highschooler ⸺ but as her wife, she was willing to give me the world, if I asked for it. Our mutual attraction had been “love at first sight”, that mythical feeling that I’d longed for, but now couldn’t bring myself to fully-accept.

“Hoshino-chan.”

And then, of course, there was Kuroyama-sensei. I should never have texted her in the first place, but it was the smallest of my “shouldn’t-haves”, if I was being completely honest. There were dozens of reasons why I shouldn’t have rut with her, but chief among them was that it felt like a betrayal of Reika-chan; Saeko-san clearly meant something to my taller gyaru. Stealing away the older woman's touch, without even telling Reika-chan anything I knew, had to be on the top-ten list of “terrible things to do to your friend”.

“Ho. Shi. No. Cha. N.”

A tortured sigh hissed out between my teeth, taking all of my motivation for today’s lessons along with it. Classes were such a mundane concern, when I had so many other things to worry about. My romantic life aside, I still needed to know what was going on with my mom; besides her money troubles, I had to get to the bottom of why I’d seen her twice now with Reika-chan’s father. From all accounts, Kazimir-san was bad news; I might be a terrible friend and an even-worse romantic partner, but I could still be a good daughter.

Still, how would I warn her away? If she was in charge of Kazimir-san’s account at work, trying to get her to distance herself from him might cause serious damage to her career stability.

Everything in my life was a complex, thorny issue, with no real solutions in sight.

“HOSHINO-CHAN!”

A small hand slapped my desk with a loud BANG, startling me out of my reverie, my chair almost tipping over completely as I backed away from the source of the noise. Sitting up straight, I came face-to-face with Someki-chan; from the way her angry eyes bored into me, I could tell that I’d somehow stripped her of her patience.

“Uh, yes?” I coughed, trying to get my metaphorical feet back under me after I’d nearly jumped out of my skin.

“I hope I’m not bothering you,” she growled, turning her politeness into a weapon, “but the student council has asked me to collect your quarterly club report.”

Someki Chihaya-chan, the harbinger of chores and extra work, had struck again.

Even though she was only about five or so centimeters smaller than me, Someki-chan had to be the shortest girl in our grade. Your typical straight-laced, academics-focused class representative, she took everything extremely seriously; all of us wanted highschool to be a stepping-stone into a prosperous adult life, but Someki-chan actually cared about putting in the extra effort.

Unfortunately for me, that meant she also relished the chance to flex what little student-body power she had.

“Eh?” I blurted out, caught completely off-guard by her request. “Why would I have something like that?”

Her glare was less than kind. “Because you are club president, are you not?”

She thrust a piece of paper into my face; I accepted it obediently, hoping my conciliation would calm her irritation.

It was the charter for the Traditional Games Club, detailing the nominal activities of the organization, as well as its members and advising teacher. I’d seen it before, obviously ⸺ I’d had to sign my name to it when registering for the club, after all ⸺ but I’d never interacted with it even once after that. The charter had never come up in my previous life.

“I don’t remember anything about being made club president,” I blabbered, trying to figure out what was going on. “It should still be Yakuin-senpai, right?”

She shook her head, her long braid bouncing against her shoulder. “He transferred out of Marumaru Gakuen at the beginning of December. As he’s no longer a student here, the club presidency automatically transfers to the next most-senior student.”

“And that’s me,” I groaned, annoyed at yet another problem dropping itself into my lap.

“Not only that,” she continued, grinning impishly, “but it appears you’re the only registered member. If I had to take a guess, I assume that’s why the student council is demanding your report.”

As much as I wanted to push the matter away and make it someone else’s problem, this wasn’t an issue that I could just ignore. Any student staying in the dorms was required to be enrolled in one of the school clubs; if I let my membership lapse, I’d be in serious trouble. The Traditional Games Club was the laxest club in the school, with no formal activities or meetings; it was perfect for a girl who wanted to spend as little of my time at school as possible.

Losing access to my empty sanctuary would obliterate any chance of having a carefree school life.

“I’ll take care of it,” I mumbled, despite having absolutely no plan on how to do so.

“Good!” Someki-chan grinned, practically leering at me. “I trust you’ll have your report ready before the end of classes? I’d like to at least glance at it before we submit it to the student council.”

“We?” I asked incredulously. “What is this ‘we’?”

“Oh, don’t you know?” she replied, feigning a friendly demeanor. “Delinquency is the responsibility of the class representative, which means I get to perp-walk ⸺ err, escort you to the student council meeting after school.”

Her enthusiasm for doling out punishment was shocking, so much so that I wondered if maybe she was overcompensating for something.

“Someki-chan,” I grumbled, “this is really not a good time for me. Can’t you just ask the student council to let me have a couple days to figure this out?”

It felt like a reasonable assertion, but all it earned me was an annoyed click of her tongue.

“So,” she frowned, eyes narrowing, “the Queen of Class 1-A thinks she’s above school rules now, hmm?”

Vaguely recalling the conversation I’d had with Kuroyama-sensei almost four months ago now, I cringed as I remembered that particular nickname.

“No one really calls me that, do they?” I whined, hoping it was just a joke that Someki-chan wanted to make at my expense.

“Everyone calls you that,” she said, confirming my worst fears.

“But why, though?” I persisted, feeling grossly mischaracterized; if anything, it had to be an ironic moniker.

Someki-chan fixed me with a flat look, nonplussed.

“For starters,” she began, ticking off her reasons on her raised fingers, “you’re polite when speaking, your grades are fantastic ⸺ even if they’re not as good as mine, ⸺ and everyone raves about how attractive you are.”

It was a strong statement to make directly to someone’s face, but I assumed Someki-chan felt confident in doing so because we were somewhat familiar with each other. Granted, we hadn’t interacted very often, but we’d been attending the same schools our whole lives. Even tangential familiarity held a certain amount of closeness ⸺ and Someki-chan seemed to delight in teasing me with this undeserved nickname, anyway.

“Now come on,” I whined. “I don’t even want to start on the last bit, but the first part is weird enough ⸺ I hardly talk to anyone.”

She shook her head, denying my objections. “If anything, that’s part of your charm; you’ve got that sort of aloof vibe that people associate with highschool royalty.”

“I refuse to believe that,” I grumbled, staying dogged in my protest. “What’re the other reasons?

“You’ve attracted quite the following, which I figured would be obvious even to you,” she said in a condescending tone. “You managed to steal the heart of the mysterious, gorgeous transfer student the same day she started school, and you have the most-handsome alpha in our grade fawning over you.”

Misunderstanding after misunderstanding piled on top of each other ⸺ or, at least that’s what it seemed like to my estimation. Some of the purported “facts” were more or less true, but they’d come together in a perfect storm to vastly overinflate my reputation. Anyone who knew me would doubtlessly refute these outlandish claims, as my actual behavior easily destroyed this idolic image of me.

Our conversation was briefly interrupted by my childhood friend, as she strode across the room towards my desk. It was Saya’s custom to gravitate towards me during any class break, a habit that she hadn’t broken even once. As strained as our relationship might be right now, she seemed happy enough to continue being friends, and sharing my space.

“Someki-chan’s right, you know,” Saya agreed, dropping into Reika-chan’s vacant seat next to me. “Well, maybe not the ‘handsome alpha’ remarks, but everything else is true.”

“C’mon, Saya,” I whinged, feeling betrayed by the girl who was supposed to be my voice of reason. “This is that ‘main character status’ nonsense all over again.”

“‘Main character status’?” Someki-chan asked, looking genuinely interested. Our class rep had always been a glutton for gossip; it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that rumors surrounding the “Queen” would be particularly popular.

“Don’t worry about it,” I sighed, waving her off. “It’s just Saya’s way of teasing me.”

“It wouldn’t hurt anyone to bring me into the loop, you know,” Someki-chan huffed. If I didn’t know any better, I might think she was pouting over being left-out.

“It’s really not that interesting,” I assured her, reasserting my dismissal.

I’d already blabbed my secret to too many people as it was, and my outlandish story would definitely spread all the wrong kinds of rumors. For the sake of my peaceful student life, I’d have to keep my acquaintances at a comfortable distance.

Hearing the clack of the door next to us, I turned around, catching Reika-chan as she re-entered the classroom. A juice box clutched in one hand, she smiled and waved at me as she drained the sweet contents through the straw. Padding over to her desk, she seemed eager to join the conversation, happily involving herself in anything centered around me.

There was a soft flump as she dropped into Saya’s lap, looping an arm over the other girl's shoulders to steady herself. As if by programmed automation, Saya’s hands slid around her waist, hugging the tall blonde like one might a favored stuffed animal.

In the handful of weeks since the start of the new year, this affectionate intimacy between my friends had become more and more common. Something had happened during the Christmas break that brought both of them together; in my absence, I had no details regarding that incident, or how strong the sparks between them even were. Any time I stopped to imagine the circumstances, that awful icy feeling always clawed its way up my spine, jamming frozen claws deep into my exposed vitals.

As much as I wanted to experience the “compersion” Reika-chan had talked about, my wretched heart could only fret over the terrible potential of being replaced as a love-interest.

“What’re we talking about?” Reika-chan asked, having sucked the life out of her snack.

“How hot Yoru is,” Saya answered smoothly.

Reika-chan nodded sagely, as though my other gyaru had hit upon a fundamental truth of the world. “Rucchan is a legendary beauty,” she agreed, her affable smile obscuring how much stock she actually put in her comment. “Even the lilies turn away in deference to our Queen.”

“And there you have it,” Someki-chan grinned,
as though she’d won a debate club match. “Your title is entirely undisputed, Hoshino-sama.”

“This is giving me a headache,” I moaned, massaging my temples.

As hyperbolic as my whining was, I did feel a little under the weather. The stress of the last few weeks had really gotten to me, wearing down my energy reserves with constant worrying. Pushing down on that feverish feeling, I resolved to grab some vitamin supplements after school; I couldn’t afford to take any days off, not with how my problems had been accumulating.

“C’mon, Rucchan,” Reika-chan giggled, “there’s no need to be so serious. Learn to take a compliment every once in a while.”

“I agree with your assessment, Prohaska-san,” Someki-chan nodded, a self-satisfied smirk growing on her face. “And, I’m glad you’re in such high spirits as well, since you also need to settle up with the student council. You’re required to enroll in a club by the end of this week, or there’ll be consequences.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Reika-chan grumbled dismissively. “I’m working on it.”

“You should work a little harder, then,” Someki-chan chided, berating Reika-chan’s carelessness.

“Don’t worry,” Saya interjected, stroking Reika’s hair. “I’ll look after them. I promise there’ll be no complaints.”

Funnily enough, I thought Someki-chan might actually enjoy some minor irritations, since it gave her something to do. On the other hand, a stellar record as class rep was probably more important to an over-achiever like her, even if she did enjoy flexing bureaucratic regulations.

“At least one of you is responsible,” Someki-chan sighed, fiddling with the end of her braid. Turning back to me, she locked eyes with mine, glaring furiously. “Make absolutely certain you finish the report before the end of class, Hoshino-chan. I don’t want to have to explain why my classmates are behaving poorly.”

“Yes ma’am,” I mumbled, wishing I could take a quick lie-down somewhere. “I won’t let you down.”

 

---

 

An hour later, I found myself panting and gasping for breath, drenched in sweat. My legs felt like they were going to give out under the demanding pace, my body unable to keep up.

“Are you alright, Yoru?” Saya asked in a concerned tone of voice, a similar sheen of sweat beading on her skin. “Do you want to stop?”

“N-no,” I replied shakily. “I can handle it.”

“You’ve gotta tell us if it’s too much for you, Rucchan,” Reika-chan huffed, echoing Saya’s worried look. “Sayacchi’s okay with going a lot slower than this.”

“I’m sure you’d be the one to know,” I snapped back sarcastically.

The three of us were engaged in physical activity, though not the kind that demanded physical intimacy. Instead, we were simply taking laps around the gym, steadily grinding down the clock. It wasn’t my favorite class, obviously, but today felt so much more difficult than usual; my arms and legs seemed heavier, my breathing shallow. I didn’t think of myself as being out-of-shape, not exactly, but I was struggling much more than my friends were. Obviously Reika-chan was incredibly fit, and I’d experienced Saya’s stamina first-hand, but I hadn’t realized just how wide was the gulf between us.

“I think we should stop,” Saya tried again, sterner this time. “If you’re not feeling well, we can take you to the infirmary.”

“I’m fine,” I insisted, all the wheezing I was doing undercutting my assertion. “I shouldn’t skip anymore classes.”

Obviously, my stubbornness wasn’t motivated by a desire to be a good student, but rather purely out of self-interest. Visiting the nurse’s office wasn’t high on my list of priorities, and especially not when accompanied by my friends. While I was sure Kuroyama-sensei would stick to her regular professional demeanor, I couldn’t handle the embarrassment of appearing in front of her.

I hadn’t seen the nurse after our first meetup, as wary as I was of her admonition, but I continued to message her anyway. As much as she liked to lay into me, verbally or otherwise, she still answered my texts; I couldn’t tell if she really had been struggling with rut that night she’d taken me into the hotel, or if she was ultimately just concerned for my own well-being. Either way, it wasn’t something I wanted to broadcast to the rest of the school ⸺ and especially not Reika-chan.

Every time I thought about crawling into bed with Kuroyama-sensei, my thoughts inevitably turned back to my gyaru, and her unrealized affection for “Saeko”. What would Reika-chan think of me when I told her the whole story? The longer I put it off, the worse everything would be; I told myself I understood what that meant, yet I still exercised my cowardice anyway.

“Let’s take a break,” Saya insisted, steadily slowing our pace to a dead stop.

“I can keep going,” I complained; my feet refused to obey my orders, my entire body feeling sluggish and unresponsive.

“What’s with you, lately?” Reika-chan asked, half out of concern and half in irritation. “You’ve been like this ever since we came back from break.”

“Like what?” I shot back, frustrated.

“Like that,” Saya said, supporting my taller gyaru. “You’ve been acting so contentious, like, all the time.” Laying a hand on my shoulder, her expression softened, her concern for me evident in the comforting aura of lilies. “What’s got you so worked-up?”

My gyarus flanked me on either side, showering me in their scent. On some level, it was nice to have that reassurance ⸺ and to finally be able to recognize the presence of it. I still couldn’t pick up the finer details of their pheromones, but being able to detect even a hint of it had done a lot to bridge the gap between us. I still longed to reach that next level of communication, but the fact that they still marked me at all pushed back against that bottomless well of loneliness inside of me.

“What isn’t there to worry about?” I mumbled, feeling overwhelmed. “Especially at home, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Reika-chan sighed in agreement. “My father keeps popping up around your mom way too much.”

“Even once would be too much,” Saya growled, clearly harboring some resentment towards Kazimir-san. “That guy gives me the creeps.”

“He gives everyone the creeps,” Reika-chan said. “It’s like, one of the things he’s good at ⸺ that, and like, taking advantage of people.”

“That’s exactly why I’m not thrilled about him hanging around my mom,” I finished for her, a familiar weight settling on my shoulders.

Inside the culture of her workplace, my mother had a certain degree of responsibility around maintaining a cordial relationship with her client, and it wasn’t unheard-of for that to reach beyond business hours. Spending time with Kazimir-san was just part of her job, even if we’d all rather he stayed far away from her. Of course, there was always the possibility that their relationship extended beyond billable hours, which was easily the worst-case scenario.

“We could try scaring him off, maybe?” Saya suggested, floating the vaguest beginning of an idea.

“How?” I asked incredulously. “He doesn’t seem like the type of guy that scares easily. Besides, even if we did find some way to deter him, that’s just going to cause a bunch of problems for my mom.”

“Yeah,” Reika-chan nodded sadly. “If we tank her relationship with her biggest client, it’d be a huge disaster for her career. Like, that’s the kind of thing she could get fired over.”

“We can’t do nothing,” Saya insisted, an angry growl lurking on her tongue. “I can’t stand the idea of letting him hang around Yoru’s mom.”

Kazimir-san clearly grated on my shorter gyaru’s nerves, provoking a reaction out of her at the barest mention of him. Despite her sense of protectiveness towards me and my family, I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy; Saya clearly cared about my mom’s safety, but it was obvious that some of her ire originated from her feelings for Reika-chan. As much as I wanted my friends to get along well, it was hard to shake the notion that I was being left-behind, somehow.

“There’s not really anything we can do as highschool students,” I argued, frustrated with how helpless we were to effect any kind of change. “He’s got money, connections, enforcers ⸺ we’d be about as threatening as a handful of ants.”

“I hate to sound so defeatist,” Reika-chan said, crossing her arms under her bust, “but Rucchan’s right. We might as well be trying to fist-fight the sun, for all the good it would do us.”

The three of us moved closer to the wall of the gym, getting out of the way of the other students. Exhausted, I leaned against it, disgusted with the amount of sweat pouring out of me. Despite the warmth of the room and the strenuous exercise, an involuntary shiver still gripped me, a chill running rampant along my skin.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go see the nurse?” Saya asked, her brows furrowed in almost-sisterly concern. “You look miserable.”

“I’m fine,” I stubbornly repeated, annoyed with myself more than anything else. It wasn't like I wanted to push Saya away, but her abandonment of me on Christmas still stung; obviously I was being petulant, but “once bitten, twice shy” wasn’t a well-known aphorism for no reason. “I’m feeling a little tired, is all.”

“Just don’t push it,” Reika-chan relented, sharing Saya’s worry. “If you don’t get some rest when you feel bad, you’ll end up making it worse.”

“I’m fine,” I growled, fighting against the sickly sludge rattling around in my lungs. “I’ll go to bed early today, or something ⸺ I’ve still gotta go see the student council, no matter what.”

Whatever else, I had to get this club thing out of the way; pretty soon, I wouldn’t have anywhere to go other than the dorms, and I didn’t want to lose my room with Reika-chan.

My gyarus finally gave it a rest, as the sound of the bell announced the end of class. Clutching my side, I hobbled to the locker room, wishing I could just lie down for ten minutes.

 

Death

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Reika-chan caught me at lunchtime, taking me aside into one of the emptied-out classrooms.

It was a truly unremarkable place, little more than a handful of waist-high islands spaced evenly throughout the room. It might have been a home economics classroom, or perhaps a science lab instead, but it remained unfinished, slowly collecting dust. Its out-of-the-way placement made it a decent-enough spot to have an illicit tryst, though generally I would’ve preferred someplace softer, like the infirmary ⸺ well, at least, if I hadn’t made things weird between Kuroyama-sensei and myself.

Both doors closed for privacy, we stood together in the center of the room. Less than a meter away from each other, it felt like the gap was much wider, an entire ocean between us. I wanted to hold her in my arms, to return to that brief, beautiful moment where I had been her alpha, but it was already fading into the past, well-beyond my reach.

What right did I have, to try to claim her like that?

Frustrated with myself, I shuffled back and forth on my feet, unsure of where I should rest my gaze; my gyaru regarded me with a worried expression, her youthful appearance at odds with the darker maturity hidden in her eyes.

“Well?” I asked, sounding more irritable than I actually felt, the taller girl catching my ire merely as collateral damage. “What did you want to talk about?

“Rucchan,” Reika-chan started hesitantly, “I know things are really tense for you and your mom right now, but, like … ⸺ you haven’t been spending very much time at the dorm.”

It was a true enough statement, but I could sense the trepidation hidden within.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, leaning against one of the countertops. “I’ve been going home a lot, is all. I wanted to spend some time with my mom.”

My words weren’t necessarily a lie, but they weren’t completely honest, either. Even when I was at the dorms, I clammed up around Reika-chan, unable to really talk to my gyaru. The intimacy of the dating game had evaporated, and with it my confidence in our almost-relationship.

“I see,” she replied, allowing a disappointed sigh to hiss through her teeth. “That makes sense. Your mom’s pretty important.”

“Yeah,” I agreed awkwardly, the growing fog in my brain making it hard to think of any meaningful reply.

Resting her thumb against her plush lips, Reika-chan chewed at the glittering nail polish, working up the nerve to get to her actual point. My heart ached for her, the two of us stuck in this halfway liminality, poised on the edge of something. Neither of us had the courage to move any further, perhaps out of consideration for Saya ⸺ or, worse, a disgusting sense of self-preservation.

Or, maybe I was just projecting my own inadequacies onto my gyaru, shuffling my trauma around to whatever receptacle was willing to talk to me that day. Saeko-san’s words had burrowed under my skin, slithering through my being like mocking snakes; wordlessly, they whispered my selfishness back at me, arresting my momentum, preventing me from taking any steps forward. Their hissing hurt so badly, precisely because the torments they spat at me were true.

After all, who the fuck would want to be with a selfish little bitch like me?

“Rucchan,” Reika-chan tried again, ripping me out of my self-centered thoughts, “do you not enjoy living with me? Like, am I just kind of miserable to be around?”

Her broad shoulders sunken low, my behemothic gyaru pulled into herself, like she was terribly aware of the space she took up, trying to make herself smaller and smaller until she could finally fit into my life.

“It’s not that,” I protested, my voice quivering with my own nervous fear. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Regardless of whether I hesitated or blazed ahead, every action I took (or didn’t take) unfolded just the same, pushing the people I cared about further and further away. What magnetism did I possess, I wondered, that still held them in my orbit? Surely it had to be too painful to put up with, suffering my hot-and-cold demeanor.

“Then what is it?” she implored, a quiet desperation hidden behind her teeth. “Are you avoiding me?”

“Reika-chan,” I started, then stopped. Chewing on my lower lip, I felt like I’d been in this situation before, where I’d wounded Saya’s faith in our relationship. Was I going to do the same to my other gyaru? It felt inevitable to me, that my words would always turn out this way.

“After Christmas Eve,” she continued, a pleading contrition in her soft baritone, “I thought we finally had something together; I thought you’d finally seen me ⸺ and had finally seen yourself.” Brows furrowing, she fixed me with a serious look, fear swirling in her ruby-red irises. “Did you just, like … ⸺ did you not like what you saw?”

My heart felt wrapped up in a dozen cords of rope, twisted in every direction, and yet held motionless all the same. I’d fucked-up my romance with both Saya and Runa over the same issue, my inability to reconcile my past and my present; here, now, as she had at the amusement park, Reika-chan offered to accept the real me, the union of my ruined halves.

But that was the problem.

Wasn’t I just telling myself I loved Reika-chan, simply because she was the first to understand my true nature? I was grasping at driftwood again, happy to moor myself in the first port that wrapped her arms around me.

Ashamed, I cast my eyes down and away, seeking to hide from the polished mirror of her gorgeous eyes.

“I don’t know,” I sighed, exasperated with myself. “At the shrine, on New Year’s, when Saya was pouring out her feelings for me, I had been wearing dozens and dozens of marks from another woman.” My mouth twisted itself into a pathetic smile; struggling to lift my head, I raised my eyes to once more meet hers, catching sight of that beaten creature that lurked in my soul. “Isn’t that horrible? All that beautiful lavender fabric was only there to hide my mistakes.”

Taking a cautious step forward, Reika-chan tried to enter my space; showing my hands, I pushed against her, holding her at bay.

“Can I even call them mistakes, when I keep making them over and over?” Choking back tears, I refused to let myself wriggle out of this by crying, burying my culpability in unearned sympathy. “It’s on-purpose, Reika-chan. I’ve been doing all of this willingly ⸺ hurting Saya, making you wait endlessly for me, driving Runa away, sleeping with women I barely know. This is who I am.”

As much as I wanted to draw her close, all I could do was push her away.

Again, Reika-chan proved her strength, refusing to satisfy herself with my excuses. Striding past my feeble resistance, my gyaru pressed against me, holding me in her powerful arms.

“I know,” she whispered, clothing me in the scent of flower candy. “I’ve always known.”

“Then why?” I gasped, a powerless anger gripping my tongue. Scrunching her sleeves in my hands, I clung to her, disgusted with myself. “Why would you want to stay near a monster like me?”

“Because you’re everything to me,” she laughed. I could hear the tenderness in her voice, the gentle smile on her beautiful lips. “Every day, every minute of my life, yours is the only face I can see; I’ve never gotten tired of looking at it.”

“Why?” I barked, my quavering tone threatening to become a helpless sob. “You shouldn’t be so happy to look at something so ugly.”

Shaking her head, she slipped her fingers under my chin; affectionately, she raised my lips to meet hers, holding back only a breath away from a kiss.

“Stop trying to hide from me,” she demanded, a loving rebuke. “You keep dressing yourself up in all this self-pity, but that’s not who you are. Don’t confuse the mask for the face.”

“There’s nothing under the mask,” I protested bitterly, melting into her touch just the same. “It all rotted away, thirty years ago. There’s nothing left.”

“I know that’s not true,” she scolded, relentless in her pursuit. “And even if it were, you’re the one clear thing in my memory ⸺ I’ll piece it all back together with you, if you’ll just let me.”

I wanted to give in to her sweet assurance, but that tortured shade of my former life refused to allow me to live on my own. Her wrath crawled around inside of me, digging its claws into my bones, working me like a puppet, saying all the things I shouldn’t say.

“You shouldn’t keep chasing me,” I whimpered, “not when you have Saya.”

“Sayacchi has nothing to do with this,” she frowned, a bitter taste on her tongue.

“She does,” I argued, hating myself all the while. “I know where you go at night, when I’m not there. I’ve seen how she looks at you ⸺ how you look at her.”

“Stop hiding from me,” she growled, angrier this time. “You can’t use your feelings for Sayacchi as a barrier between us, and then throw mine back in my face.”

Grinning in miserable delight, my pitiful smile stretched across the entire painted mask.

“So you admit you have feelings for her,” I said, sinking the sharpened knife of my words into her chest, sliding it between her ribs.

“Of course I do,” she snapped back, wounded. “But, whether or not I love Sayacchi has nothing to do with my love for you ⸺ my heart isn’t so small, that I would abandon one of you for the sake of the other.”

“What happens when she forces you to choose?” I snarled, exhibiting all the viciousness of a cornered animal.

“She won’t,” Reika-chan insisted; trailing her hand down from my mouth, over my collarbone, she pressed her palm against my chest, warming the metal trapped between us. “Isn’t that why she gave you this?”

“Reika-chan,” I mewled, her fingers compressing Runa’s wedding ring and Saya’s token against my skin, “she didn’t mean it like that ⸺ it’s a friendship thing.”

“Why do you have to be so stubborn!” she chuffed, furious with me. “What else does she have to give you, to make you accept her feelings?” Glaring at me, her eyes blazed with a scintillating pink. “Should she tear out her still-beating heart? Is that the only offering you’ll accept?”

I’d had enough of this game, this twisted back-and-forth.

“I don’t want to choose, alright!?” I roared, my emotions boiling over into rage. “You’re all too important to me. I can’t throw away my feelings for any of you ⸺ they’re all I have. I don’t care how greedy or selfish it makes me, I’m not going to abandon any of you.”

Tears in my eyes, I forced my way through my bitter monologue.

“You want my answer to your confession?” I snarled, the fire of my heart blazing in my eyes. “Then take it ⸺ I love you, Reika.” Words tumbled from my lips in a rushing stream, as I forced out everything I had been holding in. “I love you. I love Runa. I love Saya. I love all three of you so much that it feels like my heart is going to burst open ⸺ and that’s why I can’t pick any of you.”

Releasing my grip on Reika, I batted away her hands, forcing her out of my space.

“None of you can have me. None of you should have me ⸺ you should be with someone who will put you first, like a good alpha is supposed to do.” Clenching my hands into fists, I ground my fingers against my palms. “You shouldn’t settle for my selfishness; you should love Saya, or Saeko-san, or anyone but me.”

“Rucchan ⸺”

Ignoring my gyaru’s stammered complaint, I pushed past her, scrambling for the exit. Following the path I’d taken a hundred times already, I threw open the door, turning my back on my love.

As I had in my first life, I chose the easiest solution, letting the love and affection of my friends stay just that ⸺ friends, and nothing more.

 

---

 

Barely able to pay attention to the rest of classes, I struggled to close out my club report. I was glad to be able to focus on something, anything else other than my feelings ⸺ but honestly, there was very little to report. There were almost no members, no activities, and no advisory teacher. I had filled out the paperwork to the best of my ability, but there was no way I would be able to avoid a lecture at the very least; hopefully, the student council would decide to be lenient, and give me an extra chance to put everything in order.

On the other hand, there was a way to sneak past the issue, even if bordered on outright fabrication. That wasn’t a problem for me, after all; I’d happily lie to anyone, even myself, if it got me what I wanted.

Compared to my love life, this was child’s play.

Clubs required a minimum of four people to be considered an “active” club, along with an advisory teacher. Maybe I wouldn’t be able to fake an activities report, but I could buy myself a little time by filling out the roster.

I counted as a member, obviously, and Reika would need to join a club anyway, so that was two members right there. Our school didn’t have any rules against being enrolled in multiple clubs, so even though Saya already spent her after-school time engaged in Judo Club, there was nothing stopping me from including her as another member, too.

The real issue was going to be the advisory teacher, and our fourth member.

I would’ve loved to include Yakuin-senpai, but I wouldn’t be able to skate by on an assumption of innocent negligence. Panicking, I decided to jot down Someki-chan; it would cost me some kind of favor, maybe, but I could probably browbeat her into going along with it. After all, she needed to look good in front of the student council, too, so of course she’d help cover my delinquency.

All that was left was the club advisor. With no real options on the table, I wrote down the only name that came to mind; it was a rough gamble, but I didn’t have the luxury of choice.

It was a sham of a report, well below what could be considered “acceptable” to show to the student council, but it would have to do.

 

---

 

Still firmly ensconced in the bosom of winter, the day had already begun to slide into twilight by the time classes let out. Thin rays of sunlight spilled in through the hallway windows, pooling onto the floor.

It was my favorite time of the year. The month of January existed as a kind of liminal space, joining last year with the present, yet not encapsulating any meaningful moments of its own. In a way, it held infinite possibility, though lacking any realization; it was a time of not-existing, of passing-through.

Today, it was nearly unbearable.

Of all the dozens of other things I could be doing, being led along to the student council room was not one of them. This pseudo-formality and its ensuing lecture was a chore more than anything else, wasting the handful of daylight hours available to me. As much as I enjoyed the relative freedom of a highschool life, the mundane responsibilities certainly got in the way.

Thick slime ran through my body, subsuming the hollows where my bones should be. Everything felt so slow, like molasses trickling down a window; if I had even a minute to rest my head, I would probably fall fast asleep. Forcing myself to stay present even as I suppressed a need to cough, I soldiered on into the student council room.

There was nothing particularly remarkable about the space; it was set up like any other conference room, with the middle of the area dedicated to a long table ringed by a dozen or so chairs. Various bookshelves pressed against the walls held all kinds of minutiae necessary for the smooth operation of student bureaucracy; the system was admirable in some ways, giving students at Marumaru Gakuen the opportunity to sharpen interpersonal and management skills that would be useful in the “real world”, but to me it was just another roadblock.

I should be out apologizing to Reika for how I felt. I should be trying to find some way to repair my friendship with Saya. I should be doing my homework, or cleaning my dorm, or going home to help my mother pack ⸺ anything other than dealing with this interminable hell of check-marks and boilerplate forms.

Naturally, most of the members of the student council were present, but it was impossible to notice or remember most of them, not when the room was dominated by the school’s crown jewel: Fujiwara Akari.

If I was the Queen of my class, then Fujiwara-san would be its Empress.

Certainly, her statuesque height and artfully-sculpted features were striking enough on their own, but she also possessed the bearing and poise of a nobleman's daughter; her movements went beyond graceful, appearing to flow rather than walk, gliding along the ground. A stunning intellect complimented her peerless beauty, boasting the number-one overall rank in our grade, and yet she displayed a humble demeanor in spite of it. Her affability extended beyond mere friendliness, Fujiwara-san more than capable of making a lasting positive impression on anyone she met. Honed skills and genius talents piled on top of each other in an endless procession, a cavalcade of gifts bestowed onto a girl more beloved by the world than any other. She was even-handed, calm-tempered, magnanimous, with a smile that could melt ice and break hearts.

She was, in a word, perfect.

“Ah! Hoshino-san!”

Like a spider threading web, Fujiwara-san noticed me the moment I arrived, acknowledging my presence before I’d finished setting foot inside. Her gorgeous amber eyes shone with a golden luster, catching the growing twilight.

“Class President,” I started, holding back both a cough and a whine, “I’m here to deliver my club report.”

Part of me hoped that I’d simply be able to deposit my form and leave, but the more realistic part of me understood that I wouldn’t be so lucky. Either way, I offered her my paperwork, feeling the self-satisfied glare of Someki-chan against my back.

“We’re happy to receive it,” Fujiwara-san replied in a friendly tone, not even glancing at the forms as she tucked them into the stack of papers in front of her. Something about her demeanor suggested that she’d been expecting the half-assed job I’d thrown together, and so thought it unnecessary to confirm her suspicion.

“Well then,” I tried, pushing down on the sigh of relief welling up in my chest, “I’ll be off.”

The barest demands of my responsibilities now met, I decided to try pushing my luck. With the intention of abandoning Someki-chan to this den of bureaucratic wolves, I turned to leave.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Fujiwara-san asked in her soothing soprano, smiling all the while. “We still need to hear the oral summary of your report.”

Grimacing, I turned to face her; an implacable mask of jovial professionalism shone back at me, somehow radiating the aura of a corporate higher-up and a trusted friend at the same time. It was incredibly aggravating how pleasant her gaze could be, even as she tightened the leash of academic duty around my neck.

“Right,” I smiled back, pretending I’d merely forgotten my purpose for coming here. “The report.”

Her glittering golden orbs held me steady, denying any escape. “Yes,” she echoed, a bemused lilt in her voice, “the report.”

Backed against the wall, I had no plan for how to respond ⸺ and yet I would have to, if I wanted to hang on to what little social freedom I had left.

“Right, well,” I began, weaseling my way through whatever nonsense sprang to mind first, “it’s been something of a slow season for the Traditional Games Club, you see. There’s not a whole lot to report.”

“Hm.” Tapping a finger against her plush lips, Fujiwara-san acted like she was just-now recalling some salient detail. “If I remember correctly, in past years the club would be engaged in all kinds of regional highschool tournaments before the end of December ⸺ shogi, mahjong, chess, and similar such strategy games.”

It was too calculated of an attack to be an incidental observation. Fujiwara-san had already seen through my opener, deftly maneuvering me into a trap.

“Yes, absolutely,” I mumbled, lying through my teeth, “but there wasn’t anything like that on offer during Fall semester.”

“No?” she asked innocently, boxing me in. “That’s strange, because the student council has catalogued several flyers gathered over the last few months, detailing numerous such events.” Showing me her fangs, her smile widened; their glistering sparkle could split solid rock with its radiance. “We like to stay well-informed, you see, in order to better serve the student body.”

Polite and direct, she’d hammered a convincing nail into my coffin. Regrettably, my ability to finesse my way out of trouble seemed to only extend to women who were in love with me ⸺ and, perhaps unfortunately, that didn’t seem to include our class president.

“Of course,” I persisted, stubbornly refusing to be brought down by only the first salvo, “but that doesn’t mean the Traditional Games Club qualified for any of those. We’ve had some membership problems lately, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

Nodding, she acknowledged my feint. “It’s true that the former club president transferred to another school,” she allowed graciously, her deferential smile hiding her claws, “but surely he prepared his replacement well in advance?”

“Naturally,” I lied, returning her smirk. “I’ve been so busy focusing on recruitment efforts, that I haven’t had any time to worry about anything else.”

Canines flashing in the light, she held up her hand; the vice-president (Ikuchi-san, maybe?) obediently offered a form to her waiting grasp.

“I’m sure you’ve been quite diligent in your efforts, Hoshino-san, but your assertion contradicts this dissolution request.” She held up the paper; it was exactly what she’d claimed, with Yakuin-senpai’s signature clearly visible. “Of course, the student council has informally rejected the request, seeing as the form lacks the signatures of all current members ⸺ which, I imagine, now includes both Ichikawa-san and Prochàzka-san?”

She had me dead to rights. There was no reason for her to check my hastily-filled roster update, because she’d already seen four moves ahead of me; in our little face-off, I felt more like a pawn than a queen.

“... Yes,” I agreed, sweating bullets.

“And?” she asked, her eyes drifting off to the side, watching some other prey sitting just behind me. “I assume Someki-san is your fourth member?”

“Eh?” Someki-chan squeaked, bewildered.

“Yes,” I growled, feeling more miserable by the second. I shot a quick glance over my shoulder, filling it with all the murderous intent I could muster. “Someki-chan is a very recent recruit.”

Someki-chan wilted under my glare, swallowing audibly. “R-right,” she agreed quickly, cowed by my implied threat. “That’s correct.”

“Well! That’s wonderful!” Fujiwara-san laughed; it was a lovely, rich sound, like champagne running down a tower of crystal glasses. “It’s always exciting when club membership picks up ⸺ all thanks to your hard work, of course, Hoshino-san.”

“Something like that,” I smiled back, my insides lurching around unsteadily; I needed to be rid of this room as soon as possible, and find something cool to press my forehead against.

“It’s such a pity,” she continued, grinning like a fox, “that you’re just shy of meeting the requirement of five active members.”

“F-five?!” I stammered incredulously.

The room started to spin, filling me with a dizzying sensation of nausea; every part of me burned hot, even as I shivered against the unbearable cold. I had only had a tenuous grip on the situation to begin with, but Fujiwara-san’s checkmate completely knocked my legs out from under me. The slimy feeling oozing around my guts worsened, turning into blistering spikes of pain.

“Five,” Fujiwara-san echoed, seeming neither pleased nor upset, maintaining her perfectly-neutral affability. “Surely you knew that already, of course? After all, the student council took great pains to ensure that all students were made aware of the change that took place after summer break.”

“Five?” I repeated stupidly, my head swimming in an uncomfortable hell of vertigo and dashed hopes.

Slouching forward, I pressed my hand against the tabletop, propping myself up. Everything in my body seemed so floaty all of a sudden, as though my blood had effervesced, becoming a vapor lighter than air. My limbs were so sluggish, responding to my commands a moment too slow, worsening the crushing weight sinking into my chest.

I needed to leave, to find a place to lie down for a minute or two, long enough to find my bearings. This was a winnable fight, probably, but my head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, unable to formulate any plans. It would be easy to find one more member, right? I hadn’t lost, not yet.

“Hoshino-san?” Fujiwara-san asked, a worried note in her tone. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” I mumbled, struggling to think of a way out of this predicament. “I just need a moment.”

There was a deafening crash inside my skull, as Someki-chan laid a hand on my shoulder.

“Hoshino-chan?” Someki-chan tried, a concerned look on her face; the volume of her voice was simultaneously so loud, and yet weirdly far-away.

“I’m fine,” I snapped, pushing her hand away. Standing up straight, I shot a glare at the shorter girl, admonishing her presumptuous offer of support.

Strangely, though, my eyes didn’t catch hold of my classmate; instead, my vision was filled with a checkered pattern, the squares of which seemed to be growing larger and larger, rushing to meet me.

 

The Tower

---

Unfathomable darkness pressed in all around me, the nothing inside me bleeding out of my flesh.

A hundred-thousand knives of nothing sawed at my skin, tearing into the superficial barrier of my body. Steel and glass wormed their way through fibers and muscles, cutting and slicing, working in and up. A mountain of stone hammered at my bones, cracking the fragile porcelain, hungering for marrow.

Unsatisfied with tearing apart my physical form, the nothing went deeper, and deeper, and deeper.

Having crushed my being into a pathetic pedestal of ivory, the nothing placed my heart atop it; a susurrating choir hissed from the edges of everywhere, hideous laughter mocking this examination of my core. A scalpel of red-hot fire dug into it, poking and prodding, seeking for something of worth; to the delight of the absent spectators, the blade revealed only void, from which the nothing sprang.

Icy water swirled around me, washing the remnants of my shattered self out into the frozen, eternal river. Everything felt numb, the cold seeping into me, even as the fire of my torment blazed red-hot through my veins.

This was where I belonged, wasn’t it? My second chance was an idle dream, the hallucination of a beleaguered consciousness in the moments before death. Certainly, if I wasn’t physically resigned here, then spiritually I must be so ⸺ I hadn’t done anything to correct my doomed course, contenting myself to ruin whatever my grasping hands could seize.

I was a failure as a woman, as a daughter, as a wife; the scroll containing my sins must be stained red, overcrowded with ink. A dozen problems demanded my attention, and yet the thing I cared about most was myself, deliberating over who I would curse with my burden.

I didn’t deserve Saya’s protection, or Runa’s devotion, or Reika’s love.

Days and hours and minutes and years spun past me, dragged along by the current. I wasn’t afraid of drowning ⸺ it hadn’t been that bad the first time, after all. I had always thought that dying would be scarier, more visceral, but in the moment that my life had been smothered, the only thing I truly felt was a sense of impatience. Dying took too long; if it had to be inevitable, I wished that it had been over quicker.

This time was much, much worse, an interminable hell of waiting. Falling slowly down, further and further, I found myself wishing that I could find the bottom soon; I wanted to be torn apart and scattered by the rocks, and finally end. There was a limit to how much patience anyone possessed, and I was reaching mine.

The true difference, I was sure, was that this time was so much lonelier. Where was Sensei? I wanted to feel his arms around me, to enjoy the final reward of my miserable existence. Strength drained completely, his flesh had frozen just the same as mine, a chilling embrace that carried me into eternity; I longed for it.

Instead, the arms that now wrapped around me felt so hot, burning my skin. I only recalled the two of us falling from that bridge, Sensei and I ⸺ and yet here was Reika, cradling the remnants of my laughable life.

“Let me go,” I moaned, shuffling in the murky dark, wriggling in her grasp; my breath rattled in my lungs, their laborious processes aspirating that horrific chill. “I need to die.”

“I’m sorry,” Reika smiled, her words unfolding into delicate blossoms; they floated around me, turning the water pink. “You’ll have to suffer with me a little longer.”

Why did she have to be so beautiful? I didn’t deserve this. It wasn’t fair. I shouldn’t be allowed the affection of an angel, not when I had become so monstrous; I was the villainess, goddamn it, not the heroine. My shameful blood should bleed into the earth, and be done with it.

“That’s selfish,” I mumbled, shaking my head, the world spinning with the motion.

“Then let me be selfish,” she murmured, her ruby-red eyes blazing so brightly, scorching my irises.

Where did she get off, treating me like this? She should know better. She should drop me into the water, and allow my body to fade away. Below me, a restless ghost awaited our reunion; or, at least, that’s how I imagined him. Perhaps even that much was wrong, misremembered by my addled brain.

“I hate you,” I growled, beating my fist against Reika’s chest in languid, useless motions, unsure of who I was directing my anger toward. “I hate you so much, Sensei. You shouldn’t have been there with me ⸺ you should’ve been with your wife.”

Cradling me close to her body, Reika’s warmth seeped into me, burning me with her agonizing care. How dare she? This role wasn’t hers to play; she had no place in my tragedy. I longed for Sensei’s mortal grip, and the shared sanctity of our miserable ending.

And, yet.

Wasn’t there something I had forgotten?

“Who?” Reika asked, brows furrowed in concern.

“Saeko,” I rasped. “Saeko-san.”

Kuroyama Saeko. I had been stealing from her, taking things that weren’t mine: Sensei’s protective embrace, and Reika’s patient love. Little more than a petty thief, I dined on delights that were not owed to me, snatching them from the mouths of others.

“Rucchan,” she tried again, her beautiful voice breathing life into my aching chest, “who are you talking about?”

“Saeko-san!” I snapped bitterly, overcome with frustration. “Y’know: Kuroyama-sensei, Sensei.” Their forms overlapped, Reika-chan and Sensei, my vision blurring; struggling to differentiate them, I addressed the two of them in turn. “Your wife. Your special person. You were supposed to have kids with her, and you were supposed to have her kids.”

It was so taxing, trying to talk to two people at once, but they refused to separate. Sensei's wraith ringed around Reika, clinging to her like smoke, baffling my sight ⸺ and with it, my jumbled words. It was a confusing torture, trying to work out which of them I was addressing; honestly, why did they insist on making everything so hard for me?

“Rucchan,” she whispered in the voice of a hesitant lover, “I don’t understand what you mean.”

Sighing angrily, I reached out, caressing her face with my hand, as the other stretched to do the same for Sensei.

“Stop wasting your time on me,” I mumbled, my words muddled together, “or you’re gonna lose to her new girlfriend.”

Brandy, and cherries; whoever that scent described, I was sure she must be a better woman than me, despite TallDrkBeauty’s aspersions ⸺ but she didn’t deserve to win out over the two people I loved. Much like myself, she had to be some lecherous bandit, greedily purloining a heart that didn’t belong to her.

“Rucchan,” she tried again, offering my name a third time; I put a finger to her lips, silencing her protest.

“I don’t want to see you lose, Reika,” I smiled, basking in the light of her countenance; looking past her, I held Sensei’s gaze in my own. “I don’t want to see you lose.”