Chapter 26: The Princess's Delusion (Part 1)
Content warning: Depression, anxiety
"Hey, did you hear? The soccer club's manager was spying for another team!"
"Tokyo people sure are scary. Aren't they embarrassed?"
"I heard she declined to attend a school there because something happened in her former school."
"Bullying? But why would she spy the soccer team?"
"There are also rumors about her. They say she killed her parents for money!"
"What?! That's impossible!"
"It's true! Maybe she bought the soccer team to have friends because everyone knows!"
Kiyoshi held back a burst of hearty laughter. Most of his classmates were engrossed reading this week's school newspaper, others wrapped in conversation about the same topic. Akasaka would have never declined such a juicy scoop. Even Kiyoshi had to grab a copy and read the finished product.
A Spy In Kidokawa?! First-year Manager Turns Traitor.
Her writing sense was exceptional, and the edits to the original content made each sentence flow like a stream before transforming into a cobra and enveloping the careless reader.
Kiyoshi snickered. The restless mood spread from the classrooms to the halls, infecting the whole building. It was as palpable as the dawn of a school festival--but a twisted escape from the ordinary. Everyone wanted to live a special moment, but few had the guts to take it and rather wait for it to appear. That hunger was what columns like Akasaka's aimed to satisfy. No wonder they were popular. It was the perfect trap.
During break, Sakamoto-sensei came up to him but Kiyoshi merely smiled and told him he was alright. "There's nothing to worry about," he said. The teacher was easily convinced.
The rest of the day was clouded with a thick, turbulent mood. Now that he had no rival, Kiyoshi thought he could return home and arrange a plan to obtain the last manual. But as he made his way to the entrance, a hand tugged his collar.
"I don't know if you do lack guts, or if you are a masochist who needs to be beaten up to stand up for themselves." Bitterness rose in Kiyoshi's stomach at the smile laced in that familiar mocking tone. Turning to slap Kensou's hand away, he witnessed the third-year double over and laugh. "I didn't think you were capable of selling Sumire out." He wheezed. "What in the world are you?"
Kiyoshi's jaw tightened. What was his problem? "What do you want?"
"Thought you might want to know Sumire's sentence." Kiyoshi raised his eyebrow. "What? Did you think the school would say nothing? The first-year's classrooms were in an uproar. Sumire's must have been the worst." Why should he care? Don't care. "She's in the director's room talking to Shuu and some old-timers from the board." Kensou thumbed the building. "Sakaki must be there too, though I doubt there's much to do in this kind of situation." Another snicker escaped from him. "Anyway, I thought you might want to see your plan to the end. Or. . ." he smirked. "Do you lack the guts to see Sumire face to face?"
"I don't." He didn't. "I'll go."
The principal's office was on the highest floor. The student council handled Kiyoshi's transfer, so he had never been here. It had an ominous air stuck on its walls. It was hard to say this was its constant state or if it was because of the on going talk inside the room.
They paused a few ways from the carved wood door. Neither said a word. Kiyoshi realized he felt restless because this was the first time they were alone in a good while. Not as enemies but as people.
Kiyoshi glanced at the taller guy. In those two years in captaincy, how much did Kensou know about spies?
"Those first-years hated Sumire," Kensou casually commented with a smirk. Kiyoshi merely hummed, recalling the horrid girls who were making fun of her on their way into the building.
"That's what you get for messing with the most popular guy in the grade," Kiyoshi grumbled. Kensou gave him a puzzled look. Kiyoshi felt like an idiot. "Gouenji-kun. They are friends or something," he explained.
The third-year shrugged.
Weird. It was too weird. It was no secret the girl and Gouenji-kun talked to each other frequently. Akasaka also testified they had grown closer. "You never thought they could be dating?" Kiyoshi asked with disbelief.
"Not really," Kensou said simply. A vulgar taste swarmed Kiyoshi's tongue. His question and feelings were so. . . heterosexual. A girl and boy are close, they must be dating. What the fuck is with that logic?
"Did you think they were? Is that why you. . ." It seemed Kensou was seeking an answer for Kiyoshi's matter-of-factly attitude. Their mismatching wavelengths made Kiyoshi overconscious.
He looked away and shrugged quickly. "I dunno." He paused and considered. "Have you ever been interested in someone?"
Kensou frowned. "What's with the question?"
"Just curious." He couldn't help but think of Keima who also lacked something that was part of everyone's life.
"I haven't," Kensou replied.
Neither spoke for a while. "I know someone who isn't interested in people like that," Kiyoshi said. Funny, Kensou superficially resembled Keima: hair color and height. If he didn't experience attraction either then, they would also share that trait.
"Sumire confessed she didn't approach Gouenji more than necessary as a spy. Their current relationship is unrelated to it. If you exposed her out of jealousy, then too bad."
Thank God it wasn't the reason then. Kiyoshi leaned out as the door opened. Sakaki-sensei stepped out first, followed by a short girl with dark hair. As they turned to their direction, fear wrapped its roots around Kiyoshi. He dashed towards the stairs and went up.
Grasping the handle to halt, he turned and peeked down. Kensou was talking, muffled, but the voices were getting closer.
When he recognized the girl's figure, another shock made him freeze. What made her so terrifying? She wasn't even looking at him. In fact, there was a defeated aura around her. It reminded him of Arisugawa for some stupid reason. But Kiyoshi had never won against her; it was Keima who rescued him.
As if called by an external force, her violet eyes looked up, meeting Kiyoshi's. He cried out, pushing himself off the rails and hugging his arms until his back bumped against the wall. When he realized someone was climbing the stairs, his body froze in horror for one dreadful second beflre stumbling to the upper floor, messy with crates and abandoned desks. "Fuck, fuck." The door to the rooftop was locked.
"Did you come to laugh at me? Or were you the one who tipped the Newspaper Club?" A shiver raced down Kiyoshi's spine. He let out a muted scream, flattened his frail shoulder against the door, and let gravity carry his paralyzed body to the dusty floor.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you." Her voice was aloof, lacking the warmth Kiyoshi just learned it used to carry. Now it was hollow like a box, and he knew by experience people who felt they had lost everything didn't care for consequences.
"Lift your eyes," the girl commanded. Kiyoshi let out a sob and obeyed. "Were you the one?" He nodded. "Then why are you crying as if I hurt you?" Her fists curled and her body seemed to grow double its size. That was no human anymore. That was a fearsome beast, willing to inflict lots of pain. Her eyes were sharp and piercing like a feline. . . a. . . a tiger. And she was furious.
A chocked gag escaped from his lips as she approached, her shadow towering over him. Kiyoshi pushed himself away will all his might. Wasn't a teacher with her? And Kensou must know he was here. Why was nobody stopping her?!
The girl flung her foot against the door. Kiyoshi clasped his head and yelled apologies. "That won't change what you did," she said. Maybe that rumor was true. Maybe she was used to terrifying people. "Why? Why did you do that?" Her voice wavered at the end as if Kiyoshi had a slight chance for redemption if used well.
"Sumire, that's enough."
"Don't touch me." A light slap rang. "The student council could have helped him."
"We didn't. The student council is aware of this crooked business, revealing one of you would lead a trail back to us. Shuu would never risk that."
"Hmph."
Footsteps faded. Kiyoshi looked up, his sight a myriad of pale watercolors. He cupped his ears, the girl's controlled anger still ringing.
Steadily, he pulled himself up--the spot where the girl could have struck the door unsullied--dragged himself out of the school.
The sky was tinted magenta and navy blue. Kiyoshi hated that blue. That disgusting color was hers and Keima's favorite. "He was right," Kiyoshi murmured. "I have a victim-complex. Even after I did that, I feel as if I was the one hurt."
The late afternoon was chilly. Everything was, and dark.
I don't want tomorrow to come.
The Princess's Delusion (Part 1) | End