Dawn was a faint blush over the mountains to the east when I crawled from my bed. Cold radiated from the floor as I stuffed my books and a change of clothes into my backpack. I’d slept poorly when I had managed to finally get to sleep, horrific dreams I mercifully couldn’t recall had followed me like a beast on the prowl and I’d woken up nearly every hour. I wanted to leave before the house woke up. I was being a coward, but I had no idea how I could possibly face Mio after what had happened the night before.

I took a quick shower, dressed, and slipped out of the house into the cold morning air, my damp hair under my hood almost immediately beginning to freeze. I closed the door behind me and sighed, my breath puffing out in front of me. The dark clouds which had blanketed Tottori for what seemed like forever had broken apart, at least for the moment and the first rays of the sun broke over Mount Daisen, painting the wispy white remnants of the previous night’s rain in pastel hues of pink, orange, and yellow.

I was nearly beyond Mizuki’s house on the road to the high pass when she stepped away from her porch and stood in front of me. I stopped and shielded my eyes from the sun peeking over the mountain. Mizuki was as she always had been since we were little. Her dark eyes peered at me from beneath her bangs, seeming to search my own, though for what I couldn’t say. She was her usual self, clothes slightly rumpled and disheveled, her well-worn sweater hung off her shoulders and was partly wrapped around itself, leaving the back of her blouse exposed to the chill.

“Hey,” I waved, slightly taken aback by her presence. It seemed like forever since we’d walked to school together. Since before the ill-fated party at Emi’s house, at least.

“Hi,” Mizuki smiled, hesitantly at first, then broader. “Going my way?”

“So it seems,” I replied, gesturing to the road ahead. I stepped behind her briefly as we walked and straightened her sweater out for her.

“Thanks,” Mizuki nodded to me. “I always did have trouble with this sweater.”

“Remember the jacket your mom got you in 4^th grade?” I grinned at her.

“Oh, God!” Mizuki groaned, covering her eyes with her hand, and shaking her head ruefully. “To this day I still have no idea how that thing worked. There were so many buttons and zippers it was impossible to get on and even worse to get off.”

“You still gave it your best every day for almost all of the year,” I pointed out.

“It was a gift,” Mizuki shrugged.

“Oh, come on!” I giggled.

“All right, I kinda liked it, too,” Mizuki admitted with a grin.

“I had to help you every morning and every afternoon.”

“Even then it was just awful,” Mizuki nodded. “I was kind of relieved when it ripped, actually.”

“Me, too,” I admitted. “I was sad for you, but at least we gave it a decent burial.”

“Up on the hill over there, if memory serves,” Mizuki shielded her eyes and pointed to a hill to the north of the road.

“Yep,” I nodded. “Remember we were scared it would come back as some kind of jacket yokai and haunt us if we didn’t do the proper rituals?”

“I’d forgotten about that!” Mizuki giggled.

“Given the jacket, I don’t think it was outside the realm of possibility,” I chuckled as we turned off the road onto the high pass without thinking about it. It was as natural as breathing, the two of us, backpacks hefted onto our shoulders, our feet carrying us forward.

“Oh! Remember that dog that chased us for like a week straight?” Mizuki’s eyes grew wide at the memory.

“Where did that dog even come from?” I shook my head in wonder. “It would chase us and then when we got to the road would turn around and just bark and then run off into the woods.”

“There was something not right about that dog,” Mizuki marveled. “Still, it was very pretty.”

“Yeah, in kind of a ‘chew your face off’ sort of way,” I admitted with a smile. It felt good to smile for a change. I had begun to wonder if I even could anymore, honestly.

“We’ve been friends for a long time,” Mizuki whispered, so low I could barely hear her. “You were the first friend I had. The first person to come to my house. The first person to stay over. You were there for every birthday, every Obon, every Foundation Day. Even if no one else showed up, you always did. There were so many things I’m not sure I could have gotten through if you weren’t around. Remember when my Ojisan died?”

“Of course,” I nodded, remembering it well. It was the first time I’d ever seen an adult cry as Mizuki’s father had sat on the couch and sobbed. For the younger me it was scary. I’d never thought about death before and to see an adult sob shook me to my core. “I hated seeing your family so sad.”

“You even sang songs and did silly dances to make me smile,” Mizuki grinned at the memory.

“Ugh,” I groaned in mock agony, “why do you have to remember that?”

“I remember everything you did for me, Kasumi,” Mizuki glanced over at me, her expression clouded and tense. “I always will. I’ll always love you like a sister, and will always be your friend, e-even if I haven’t acted like it often enough of late.”

“So what’s going on?” I finally asked stopping as the sun crested the mountain and spread across the high pass.

“I never could get anything past you,” Mizuki let her head fall back as if basking in the sun for a moment.

“Well, I was surprised by the Yuto thing,” I admitted.

“You shouldn’t go to school today,” Mizuki finally breathed.

“Why’s that?” I was relatively sure not much could surprise me at this point.

“Shit,” Mizuki took a deep, halting breath before fishing a paper out of her pocket. She passed it to me without a word. I unfolded the paper to find a photo of me in a bra, my nipples nearly visible beneath the lace, my shirt pulled up to my throat. My face wasn’t visible, just my chin and lips, but I knew the photo well. I had sent it to Aria after the party as an apology of sorts for not being able to follow through the previous night. A stroke of uncanny irony and yet another in an increasingly staggering quantity of bad moves on my part, it seemed. Beneath was written in bold lettering:

“A LESBIAN IN OUR SCHOOL!” it said, plainly screen captured from the school’s message boards. There were snippets of conversation between Aria and I. Her name, and her replies to what I’d said blacked out posted below the title. “Are we ok with this???” the poster asked dramatically.

“Daishi posted it last night.” Mizuki muttered. By now I was relatively certain at least a few people knew or suspected it was me. The few snippets of the screenshot Mizuki had captured made that abundantly clear.

“Of course he did.” I wasn’t surprised.

“Is Emi…?” Mizuki trailed off meaningfully.

“It’s not my place to say one way or the other,” I glanced over at Mizuki. “I think everyone should be able to come to their own conclusions in their own way and make the decision that’s right for them.”

“Except, apparently, you,” Mizuki shook her head. I glanced down at the paper and crumpled it.

“Apparently,” I murmured.

“I really stepped in it at the party, didn’t I?” Mizuki sighed, running her hands over her face.

“Not if that’s how you really feel,” I shrugged. “I don’t think it’s anyone’s place to tell you whether you’re right or wrong if that’s what you really believe.”

“It’s not how…I…” Mizuki shook her head, obviously drowning in doubt about what to even say. “I don’t know, Kasumi. I don’t know anything except that you’re my friend. You’ve been my friend forever and nothing will change that.”

“Thank you,” I meant it wholeheartedly. “That means a lot.”

“You shouldn’t go to school. Just…just let this blow over or something,” Mizuki pleaded. “You know how everyone is. It’ll be a topic for a bit, then something else will happen and it’ll go away.”

“No, it won’t,” I shook my head. The reality is most of the kids at school were like sharks and Daishi had chummed the water for them. Not to mention I doubted I had the time left to wait anyone out. “It’s ok, though. Walk to school with me?”

“Ok,” Mizuki nodded. “Oh, uh…” she reached into her backpack and pulled out a box and offered it to me. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh,” I smiled hesitantly, taking the box gratefully. “I totally forgot.” I glanced down at the box then back up at her suspiciously. “Azuki Pocky? How’d you get this?”

“Emi’s not the only one with sources,” Mizuki grinned at me. I opened the box and offered her one. “Nah, you know I like the matcha ones.” I waved it tantalizingly in front of her until she grabbed it. “Fiiine! But only because you’re offering!”

As the school hove into view and more students began to appear I thanked Mizuki for walking with me and with a tiny wave, hurried on ahead. It made no sense dragging anyone else even deeper into the muck I had created than they already were by association alone.

I didn’t bother changing my shoes. The looks on the faces of the teachers and students, and muted whispering as I passed made it clear it would be a worthless gesture. Assuming, of course, I still even had my indoor shoes anymore, which I seriously doubted at this point. I walked down the halls at the same pace I always did, the stares growing more intense as I drew closer to my class. Much to my surprise, I had almost made it in the door and could see the graffiti written on my desk when the principal intercepted me. I figured they’d have the ‘don’t let the lesbian be seen’ patrol in place long before I got that close.

“Ah! Fujimura-san,” he said nervously, adjusting and re-adjusting his tie as he looked at me. “Uh…”

“It’s ok,” I smiled as well as I could. “I’ll just follow you, then.”

“Thank you,” he bowed, plainly relieved.

“Please have a seat,” He gestured to the chair opposite his at the desk, sinking back into his own as if the weight of the world was pressing down on his slender shoulders. I did as asked and crossed my ankles demurely, settling my backpack on my lap. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and sighed. I settled into the chair and waited for him to get his thoughts together.

“Ms. Fujimura, I assume you know why I’ve asked you here today,” he said, clearing his throat midway through his sentence.

“I have my suspicions, yes,” I nodded, grateful to Mizuki for at least giving me a head’s up.

“You’ve always been a good student,” he shook his head with a scowl. “Not to mention I’m close with your father. After all, he was my sensei in college. This situation, though… I can’t and won’t tell you not to come to school and I will defend your right to be here until the last…”

“You’d like me to ‘take some time to reflect’, I assume,” I figured I’d throw him a life preserver since he seemed to be drowning.

“Not so much for you to reflect,” he shook his head. “For the school to reflect. Take a few days for yourself. Speak with your parents and decide, going forward, which best suits you and your family’s needs. I’ve asked Daishi’s parents to come in today to have a discussion with them. What he did was inappropriate and wrong and there will be punishment, I assure you. Just…give me a few days to get things under control here and we can have a talk early next week and plan out a strategy for how best to tackle this issue. How does that sound?”

I knew my rights. What few I actually had, anyway. I could torpedo his plan for reflection by insisting I wanted to stay in school. But that accomplished nothing. I appreciated what he was trying to do and realized his hands were tied on the matter. I smiled reassuringly.

“Of course. May I be excused?” He nodded and I stood and bowed to him.

“Kasumi?” He said as I was opening the door to leave.

“Yes?” I turned my head.

“I’m sorry this happened.” I smiled wanly at him and nodded my head.

“Yeah. Me, too.” I walked through the halls, ignoring the whispers and stares. I pushed through the door into the surprisingly bright February morning. I strode away from school, a sense of finality permeating every step.