Watching Kurosawa for nearly two weeks I almost feel sorry for him. He patiently engages Shizuku at every opportunity and she responds with a cheerful smile, but even I can see that she doesn't have any true feelings for him. I don't know if she has any feelings for anyone. At least everyone seems to be getting along now, though Kurosawa's happiness appears to fade.

Kurosawa grows increasingly withdrawn. He spends less time with Yamazuki and his other friends and speaks less in class as if preoccupied with his own thoughts. Even many of the other students notice and soon the rumor that they aren't getting along spreads through the class.

Kyoko is busy with clubs every day after school. Surprisingly, after having Kyoko occupy my every free moment for the last seven months, I actually feel a little lonely. As the last class period nears the end, I tap Watanabe on the shoulder. "Hey, what are you doing after school? Want to hang out?"

"Sure, but I've got a part-time job after school, so I can't."

"That sucks."

"Why don't you go out with your girlfriend?"

I lean back in my chair and sigh, "She's busy with yearbook. Apparently there was some sort of mix-up with the printer and the whole thing has to be reformatted."

"Don't you have anyone else you can ask?"

"Not really." The thought doesn't cheer me. Why did I let Kyoko talk me into joining yearbook? "I guess I should have joined a real club." I laugh at myself "I even asked Himura and Shimura."

"Would Fukui-san be OK with that?"

I shrug, playing with my cell phone. "Probably, but it doesn't matter. Himura-san is going out with her boyfriend and Shimura-san has juku after school."

"Really? Entrance exam hell isn't for another couple of years. Why is Shimura-san going to cram school?

I shrug. "She has ambitions of being a doctor. I suppose she's aiming for a prestigious school."

Watanabe looks back at the rapidly emptying desks as our classmates leave. "So are Himura-san and her boyfriend still together?"

"Yeah, why shouldn't they be?"

Watanabe scratches at the back of his head as if reluctant to say more. "I've heard that Akiyama-san was seeing someone else."

"Who?"

"Some girl."

A couple of rows over, Kyoko rises and packs her bookbag. "Are you coming to yearbook?" she asks me.

"Yeah, I guess so." It's not like I have anything else to do, I think. I follow her to the classroom on the third floor where they meet. Kyoko and the senior editor crouch over a computer, diving into the task of changing page layouts. She talks to some of the other students about cutting their stories down to fit the reduced space, while I wander around the room looking at various pictures and sample pages hanging on the wall, bored out of my mind.

Kyoko calls out to me from among the students huddled around her. "Michi-kun, do you have those sports' club pictures?"

I turn around thinking that there might finally be something for me to do. "Ah, yeah. I uploaded those last week."

"Where? I don't see them."

"They're in the—"

"Never mind! Found them." She doesn't even look up from the computer. "OK, what I was saying we should do was take these and..."

I watch for a moment wondering if I should join in then realize there is no point in it. I stare out over the school grounds from the third floor window, watching the last of the students leave for home or for clubs. I wonder again about which club I should have joined. Of course it was too late now.

A familiar shape in long black hair steps out of the front door. I wonder how it is possible that my eyes knew it was Shizuku before my mind did. I smile at the irony. Maybe I have been watching her too much.

She starts down the stairs when a familiar blond head leaps down from the bordering wall and grabs her by the arm. My breath catches and I watch in shock as she tries to pull away but fails to break his grip. Ito's gang of thugs surround her, grab her and push her back into the school. "Hey!" I shout and slap the glass. Of course they can't hear me from up here, though I do startle everyone else in the room.

Kyoko's head jerks up from the computer. "Michi-kun?"

Somehow my feet are already moving. "I'll be back!" I race for the door.

"What is it?" she calls out, but I'm already in the hall, around the corner and halfway to the stairs.

I leap down to the mid-floor landing in two giant steps, then again to the second floor. I hit the ground floor in four more steps and race for the door, but I don't see them on the outside stairs.

I stop, listening for any stray sound that can be heard over my own heavy panting. A door slams and a couple of faint thumps come up the stairwell from the floor below. I hit the stairs, leaping straight for the landing and again to the bottom floor where rows of locked doors and dark windows, mostly labs and empty multipurpose rooms, await.

I look up and down the musty hallway. A muffled sound rustles on my left. I run to the first set of doors and peer through an inset window into an industrial kitchen where the cooking club is meeting. A loud fleshy slap, like the crack of a whip, comes from a large storage room/pantry next door. I lunge to the door and throw it open.

Metal shelves bearing non-perishable goods and cooking supplies line the small room. They are segregated by occasional work tables or countertops. Lying across one of those tables, held down by three guys, A stunned Shizuku struggles weakly while Ito, the bleach-head yanki, fumbles at her blouse. He gives up and tears the half-fastened shirt open, exposing her perfect figure and her plain, conventional, bra. Buttons ricochet from storage containers and shelves, bouncing and rattling across the floor.

The door slams against the outside wall. All heads turn toward me. With an inarticulate roar I charge in, slamming my nonathletic body into Ito, catching him by surprise. He bounces off the table's edge and trips over backwards. The tall guy with the cornrow hair is holding one of Shizuku's ankles and sliding his other hand up her thigh and under her skirt. I swing at him and he lets go of her to block my ineffective blow. Shizuku kicks the guy who is holding her other ankle in the head.

Cornrow guy hits me with a back-fist and I collapse against a free-standing set of aluminum shelves. Shizuku somehow twists free and spins off the table. Bleach-head spits out a drop of blood and struggles to rise while the third guy stalks toward Shizuku scowling and rubbing his head. I grab the shelves to pull myself up and feel them shift. Cornrow sees me and I yank at them, throwing all my weight into them as they start to tip. They fall, flinging a shower of pots and pans across the room. They crash down like an avalanche of alarm bells.

I trip over a large saucepan and fall, cracking my head against the side of the table. On the other side of the wall, girls are shouting in the kitchen. I hear movement and crashing around and the sound of a door opening. The world turns in a nauseating, slow, gray spin while I cling to the table's edge and climb onto my knees. A hand grips my upper arm and helps me to my feet. "Arigato..." I, mumble my tongue slurring the word. The hand belongs to Ito. His face is clenched like the fist he swings at me.

He punches me in the face. I don't even feel the pain at first, just the force of the blow snapping my head backwards. He grabs my shirt, pulls me upright and punches me again. I rock back and forth like a tall tree in a high wind. He punches me in the gut and I double over, dropping to my knees, suddenly unable to breath. The tardy pain catches up to me, racing through my face and around my body like jagged bolts of lightning. From one eye, I see Blondie towering over me. Cornrow and his two friends join him, smiling down at me like snarling wolves. Their hands and feet descend and the light fades while in the distance the shrieks of girls and the shout of a teacher draw near.