Friday, August 27, Evening

Xavier Uzual 

Kotone found a place to sit nearby and leaned against the wall. She was blinking a lot. I noticed that her fingers were jittering again, as they had been the other day.

“I don’t think excessive caffeine is good for you, especially at this time of night.”

She looked over without turning her head. “I thought you didn’t like to repeat yourself.” Kotone yawned.

“I don’t,” I said.

“Hm…?” A slow smile crept up over her face. “Hey, we’ve got a score to settle, don’t we?”

“What score?” I don’t remember anything like that? In fact, knowing me, I probably would’ve avoided such foreign entanglements. George Washington would be proud.

“From the coffee shop. We tied, remember?”

Oh, that. If you ask me, I beat her. She was deducing off flawed premises. Extrapolating off what she thought most people would do. Forgetting about chance error. But, I didn’t really want to push it.

Well, if she’s going to push it here, I won’t back down.

“You’re in no state to compete with me,” I said. “I won’t lose to the likes of you. And certainly not when you’re so utterly riddled with sleep deprivation and coffee.”

A wide smirk spread across her face. Kotone stood, flicked her ponytail, and crossed her arms. “Yeah? We tied when I was even more of a wreck. You don’t stand a chance.”

Admitting already that you’re a wreck, huh? I guess I really can’t lose. “You’re on.”

“I call it a ‘duel of deduction.’ It’s simple. We pass the spotlight back and forth, and whoever drops the ball loses. Got it?”

“How do you expect me to compete if I couldn’t understand something so simple?”

She grinned. “One more thing. Mock Trial’s ice cream. Loser buys.”

I’m looking forward to free ice cream. “Begin, already.”

“Scared to start yourself?” Kotone stepped back and pointed at a boy in a tux behind me. “Drumming of the fingers. Let’s do a little imagining. Why would someone be doing that? It could be that he’s practicing his piano music, but notice that he doesn’t have a folder, unlike the other people in tuxes. He’s nervous because he doesn’t have his music, and the performance is starting soon.”

“He’s not a pianist,” I said. “He’s a violinist. Look at the white powder on his sleeves. He’s either a very messy cocaine addict, or that’s resin from a bowstring.”

“Do you always assume the worst in people?” Kotone rolled her eyes.

“But of course. It doesn’t pay to assume otherwise. Are you done? Shall I take this as the white flag?”

“You wish.” She started walking; I followed. “That’s a member of the drama club. His costume is itchy, but he can’t do anything about it because it would break character. He looks uncomfortable with no immediate cause around.”

“That costume was a rush job. Mass produced by hand. Look at the seams. Even, as if done hundreds of times before, but loose. No attention to detail. Are we done yet?”

“I’m just warming up.” She flipped her ponytail. “That girl’s supposed to demonstrate for the cooking club, but she’s too busy with exposition, so that guy’s taking over. He’s looking around for tools; he’s not used to her setup.”

“Wrong. She traded with that boy. Look, her finger’s cut. Probably during a previous demo.”

“Going on the offense, are we?”

I ignored her. “That boy has been looking everywhere for something. Knees and palms are dirty. He was on the ground.”

“Panicked expression. Science Olympiad member. Probably lost his notes. The rest are studying theirs, but his is nowhere to be seen.”

“That girl is waiting for something from someone. Repeatedly checking her phone. Flyers. She’s holding an empty tray that probably shouldn’t be empty.”

She picked up on my thread. “Guilty look on her face. She thinks it’s her fault they don’t have enough. Look over there. Red Cross was going to give out cupcakes, but messed up the paperwork, so they’ve got balloons instead. You can tell from the looks on everyone’s faces. The Flying Club puts up the front of being a club, but it’s actually a front for some of the… seedier… things at school.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Such as?” How would she know that they were really a front…? Hm, suspicious. Maybe I should keep Xylia away from her after all.

“I wouldn't know. But they’ve got that reputation,” she said. “Hey, is that your white flag? You’re two behind.”

“As if. That basketball player is faking a limp. The leg he puts pressure on changes every so often. Over there. Unlike the other painters, that one doesn’t have paint on her fingers. She can’t paint, or isn’t taking it very seriously. The tennis club isn’t using their normal equipment. They keep rubbing the palms of their hands. Not used to the old, shabby grips.” Old shabby grips, unlike the one on Xylia’s racket. She was always proud of that thing. To be honest, I was, too.

Kotone nodded. “Sharp as always.”

“I’ll be claiming my ice cream now,” I said.

“You didn’t win.”

“Of course I did. The moment you cheated and brought up the Color Flying Club. There’s no way you can tell that they’re a front just by looking at them like that. That defeats the entire purpose of being a front.”

She frowned. “You’re sharper than you look.”

“What’s that supposed to imply?”

“You’re sharper than you look,” Kotone repeated. “Figure that one out for yourself, Mister Holmes.”

“Whatever. You owe me an ice cream cone, Miss Sugar Addict.” At the sound of that, she scowled. Hey, your boss openly acknowledged it, too. No use living in denial.

She beckoned me down the hall, the last wing of the Old Building that we hadn’t walked yet. “Very well. I am a lady of my word. Two ice creams, please.” She handed a couple coins to a girl manning a booth.

“Justice… is served!” In exchange, two frozen delights. “Here you are.”

Kotone took one and motioned me to take the other. I did, then followed her to a bench.

“So, now that you’ve deduced so much about so many clubs, is there any that catches your eye?” Kotone grinned deviously. “How’s that for a school tour?”

It was only then that I took a good look at where I was standing, then back at the path I’d unknowingly taken. Down the hall. Into the next building. Up the stairs. I was… just taken for a ride, wasn’t I?

“Not bad,” I said. I can recognize when I’ve been defeated. “Not bad at all.”

She slumped back against the wall and sighed. “Not good enough, either. If I was less out of it, I could’ve doubly beat you. But, I’ll settle for a tie, again.”

I didn’t feel like it was a tie. It felt like I was thoroughly beaten. “Do you never sleep? I’ve always been told that women need their beauty rest.”

“I sleep about as much as any other high schooler. Come on.”

“Just because everyone’s not sleeping enough doesn’t Just because a lot of people have a problem does not invalidate the problem. The fact that you hang around with sleep-deprived students does not change the fact that you are sleep deprived.

I gave that speech to Xylia once. But that’s another story for another time. Come to think of it, I’m not surprised that she seemed to be getting along with Xylia.

Before I could say anything, though, Kotone spoke up. “Why, when do you sleep?”

“Never after 11,” I said. I have to wake up early to make breakfast, after all.

“Are you serious?” Kotone craned her head and raised an eyebrow. “Jeez, how do you get any work done?”

“Very carefully,” I said.

“Very carefully, huh…” Her expression was odd; I couldn’t read it. “I’ve been finding that easier said than done.” A moment later, though, she put her smile back on. “Never mind that. Don’t worry about that.”

Her phone jingled. She snapped it open.

“Oh, they’re done with that student film.” More jingles. “It seems we made the right choice.”

She was looking awfully smug. Kotone snapped her phone shut. The phone charm jumped up and bounced off her finger.

“Hey, are you into CCS, like your sister?” Kotone asked.

“CCS… is that where the phone charm is from?” I vaguely recalled Xylia pointing that out at the coffee shop.

Kotone nodded.

“I’ve read a little bit of it,” I said. At Xylia’s request, of course. “But I couldn’t really get into it.”

“Awwww, that’s a shame.” She pocketed her phone, downed the last of her ice cream, and said, “Okay, let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“There’s the rest of the school tour, right? We still haven’t covered that wing of the Old Building.”

Oh, yeah. Because you lost before we could get to that point. But I decided not to say it. Again, this girl seemed to be getting along well with Xylia. It was in her best interest that I maintain relations.

“Lead the way,” I said.

The club booths began to be less and less frequent as we went down the halls. Finally, Kotone turned the corner, to spot just one last booth hidden from view.

The booth was barely decorated, with three girls sitting behind it. One was drawing rapidly, dark bags hanging from bloodshot eyes. One was reading quietly. The last was mashing rapidly at a game system.

“Oh, are there no clubs past this point?”

The girl with the game system pulled out an earbud and began twirling it. I could feel the wind from it from where I stood. “As a member of Social Committee, shouldn’t you know?” She crossed her legs, leaned back, and flashed a toothy grin. “So we meet again, Koto.”

“When are you going to stop calling me that?” Kotone returned with a defeated smile. “As well as you might expect. What are you guys doing out here? Don’t you guys need to recruit new members?”

Gamer Girl sighed and tugged at a lock of hair. She had silver hair and red eyes, I noticed, like a white rat. It was a bit unsettling, at first. “Leo insists on his personal method of recruiting. Having this booth is just so we have something to put down on our Activities Report.” Gamer Girl turned to face me. “So, who’s this? He doesn’t look like your type.”

“Oh, him?” Kotone pointed to me. “This is Xavier. He’s a new student. Xavier, this is Yuna. Vice President of the Hero Club.”

“Nice to meetcha.” She cracked a lopsided grin, the kind that shouted, ‘hide your lunch money.’

“This is Olivia,” Kotone said, “but we call her Olive.”

The girl at the book looked up, caught my eye, then looked away. She brought the open book up to her face and peeked over the top. “H-hello…”

Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Kotone make a fist and nod approvingly. Before I could wonder what that was all about, she pointed to the last girl, who had been furiously hacking away at a drawing pad.

“That’s Erin. Looks like it’s deadline season, huh?”

She stopped, and looked up at me with one eye, the other hidden behind a curtain of hair. Erin nodded once, without speaking, then continued attacking her drawing.

“I take it you’ve already met Leo,” Yuna said.

Kotone nodded. “He filled in for Judy, when showing them around the school.”

“Judy… Is that the one with the glasses? Or the one with the braids?”

“She’s got both braids and glasses.”

Yuna frowned, still twirling her earbuds. “I prolly thinking of someone else, then. Oh, I got it. She’s the quiet one, right?”

Again, Kotone nodded. She looked as though she was going to say something, but, next to Yuna, Erin dropped her pen. She stood, pulled back the bangs covering her right eye, and glared at me with piercing green eyes.

“You. In the red.”

I looked down and checked. I was indeed wearing my red jacket. Then again, I only own two jackets, and they’re both red.

“What?”

“You have what it takes.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“Join the Hero Club,” she said.

The other two girls slowly trained their eyes on me. I backed away a couple steps. “No,” I said. “I’m not planning on joining any clubs.”

Erin continued to stare at me. I took another step back. My eyes darted to Kotone. I know I haven’t done anything to deserve it, but some support would be greatly appreciated.

It seemed she got the memo. “Well, now. We haven’t gone over all the clubs yet, so why don’t we finish the tour of the school and have Xavier get back to you?” she said.

There was a long bout of silence.

“I see,” Erin said, finally. “Sorry.” With that, she picked up her discarded pen and resumed the fight against her artwork.

Weird… what was this girl’s deal?

“Anyways, we’re the last club this direction. GPS says it’s time to make a u-turn.” Yuna was still spinning the earbud. She let go of the wire, then caught the end. I didn’t even see her hand move. “I’ll trust Erin’s intuition. Give us some though, will ya?”

I paused for a bit. Given the speed at which her hand moved, this ‘Yuna’ character seemed like a dangerous individual. “Sure,” I said. But I wouldn’t, really.

“Great. Here’s our calling card.” She reached over and handed me a flier. I was more than a bit surprised that they had one. “Give us a shout if you change your mind.”

Sounds like she already assumed I wouldn’t really be considering them. A correct assumption, but it was a little unsettling nonetheless.

“Alright, you get on your merry little way. Go. Shoo.” Yuna flashed that grin, again. “Oh, damn, I forgot. Kotone, one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“I started a new file in Rosetta Odyssey. It’s a great game. You should try it sometime.”

Kotone tilted her head. “I’d love to, but I don’t know if I can find the time.”

“Ahh, that’s a real shame.” Yuna snapped open her game console and returned to tapping at buttons. “You know, in Odyssey, totally relying on Medicas and other health items isn’t really a sustainable long-term strategy. Nothing beats a rest at the inn every so often.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kotone said. “I’ll eventually get around to it. The backlog ever grows.”

“Yeah, you do that. You’re quite the taskmaster. Ruthless, ain’t you?” Yuna looked up and slipped the other earbud into her ear. “Don’t work your party members too hard, Koto.”

As we walked away, I asked, “What was that all about?”

Kotone cast a glance over her shoulder. “Which part?”

“All of it.”

After a long beat, Kotone laughed. “I think you have to be a special kind of strange to hang out with them for a prolonged period of time. They’re good people, though.”

I had a hard time believing that. Then again, they weren’t the exception. “I’ll take your word for it.”

I followed Kotone down the path. The crowds began to appear again, all around us. As Kotone turned the corner in front of me, a couple people cut me off. I blinked as she disappeared around the end--

There was that familiar falling sensation.