| Telephone ~ Waterparks |

I am exasperated when I reach the apartment. Drenched in sweat and so fucking horny. I strip and hop into the shower. The hot water spraying down my body is a daily reminder of how numb my burned skin is to things that'd hurt anybody else. It is what I get for being too casual in love. It is the price I pay for...

There are two ways my lifestyle and choices could have been altered after that incident. I could have taken falling in love more seriously. I could have become strict with my partners and controlling. I could have become the satellite girlfriend because... hey, Nobara died only because I wasn't there with her, right?

That's one way of thinking. And it's equally toxic as this other one. The one that has become my way of life now - refusing to get attached to anybody at all. I've touched bodies and refused to touch the lives that surround them. If nobody matters, there's no price to pay.

"Fuck," I whisper as my fingers find my clit and the only face I see behind my eyelids is of the prettiest girl I've seen in a while. Niji... Niji... Niji...

If it wasn't for my dumb, normie, hetero as hell sister, I'd be on top of Niji right now. Kissing her, sucking her nipples, her clit, pushing as many of my fingers as she can take inside her until she cried my name, begging me to stop. I'd have squeezed her soft hips and her soft ass as I ate her out.

I groan as I come to her thoughts but this is barely enough. At least my mind clears.

I roam around my bedroom naked and dripping on the carpet until I find a towel. I gather the abandoned clothes from the floor to drop them into the laundry basket before turning to my wardrobe.

I put on some lotion on my arms and chest before putting on a comfortable sports bra, pairing a long-sleeved, red and black striped t-shirt with black jeans. I'll be in this the whole day so it better be comfortable.

My phone rings as I'm putting on eyeliner. It's Panda on the other side.

"Yo!" he starts with the most absurdly loud tone, so uncharacteristic of the Panda I went to school with. "Good morning, Maki. Care to humble us with your presence today? We have a lot of work, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on my way," I tell him.

"Great! Meet me at the Miyazaki Audi. You and I are in charge of decorum during performances and also lights and decoration of the hall. The participants have sent in their requirements and..."

I tune him out to pack my fanny bag with some money for food, mouth freshener in case I find Niji, wet wipes, and lip balm. I smudge some dark eyeshadow on my lower eyelid as he keeps talking. For someone who goes about being butch, I do spend a lot of time in front of the mirror, curating the look of the day.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there in five," I scream into the phone and hang up. Placing my regular glasses on the bridge of my nose, I step out of the apartment.

-----------------------------

I shoulder the auditorium door open, and my sweat immediately evaporates. The air conditioner welcomes me into a chilly embrace and so does Panda. He's not furry anymore and smells like Axe body spray, like any other generic man.

He is tall and broad-shouldered with brushed-back black hair and a clean shaved face that needs no maintenance. His eyes are dark and look meaningful, even though I'm sure there's no thought behind that. Just chaotic energy. But sometimes, for brief seconds, I can see why so many people flock toward him.

I push him away and give him a pat on the back. "We don't have to hug every time we meet," I tell him. "You gotta chill with that Chad soul, okay?"

He gives me a big grin and shows me the clipboard he's been carrying the whole time. "The cleaning ladies came in a while ago to dust and vacuum the whole place. They're backstage now, cleaning the green rooms. The electricians will be here soon. Do you want me to coordinate with them or..."

"Show me the list of participants. You said they sent in their lighting requests, right?" I grab the clipboard. My interests lie elsewhere after all.

I flip to the third page where there is a list of the participants in the order of their appearance. The pop idol Takada-chan will be performing later in the evening after the performances by the students are over. I haven't seen Todo yet but I can imagine how he must be goofing about it.

I thumb down the list to find a familiar name. There are many but I'm looking for one in particular. There!

Number 13. Gushiken, Niji. Ballet performance. Audio: submitted. Instruments: none. Light: white floodlight. Any other specifications: "please keep the stage clear of anything I could slip or tumble over."

I smile and immediately conceal it when I feel Panda's gaze on me. I thumb down some more just to give the impression of a thorough examination. There will be fifteen performances by freshers, three more from each of the other years. And finally, Takada-chan's performance.

Her performance is supposed to start at eight but from my experience of the previous year's show, it might be well past that time. "I'll take over the lighting," I tell my friend. "I'll get the electricians to check out the equipment in the lightroom and I'll take care of it during the show. Takada will have her own crew and setup, right? So I'll be there for the students' performances only."

"Err... Wouldn't that work be more suitable for Inumaki?"

"Salmon."

"Jesus Christ!" My heart almost leaps up my throat when Inumaki appears out of nowhere beside me. He is wearing his usual high turtleneck t-shirt that conceals his mouth. "Where did you come from?"

"Maki," Panda grabs my attention again. "Why do you want to be in the lightroom?"

"So that I can watch the performances, duh!"

"Fish flakes."

"Yes, I don't believe you either." Panda chimes in. "Since when do you care about watching performances?"

"What? I always did. Anyway, I'll take over the lightroom. Someone has to speak to the electricians, right? But backstage, Toge can manage."

"How? How will he manage to call the participants in order?"

That makes me think. My shoulders slump a little as I accept defeat. "Fine. After I finish with the electricians, I'll move backstage. And I'll be coordinating with the participants. Okay?"

"Salmon, salmon."

I roll my eyes before leaving my friends to their own discretion. Only if Yuta was here, I'd have used him as a scapegoat for backstage monitoring and run off with Niji after her performance is done. My initial plan was similar. I wanted to ask her if she would like to watch the rest of the show from the lightroom. She wants a date before sleeping with me, so I would give her just that.

I know it's a lazy idea to have a date in the lightroom but if she's romantic enough, she might just see the charm. Hell, I don't put even this much effort into seeing the other girls.

The day passes before my very eyes but I hardly get to catch a glimpse of it. I'm bound to the auditorium for the rest of the morning and a chunk of the afternoon. It's well past three when Inumaki drags me out of that hole to get lunch. And I'm grateful.

We move through the Murakami Block to get to the side of the campus where the students have set up stalls for the fest. We stuff ourselves with rice cakes as the sun moves westward. I take some pictures of Inumaki at a photo booth set up by the students which I know he'll upload with the caption "fit check".

As we're walking back to the auditorium, we see other people rushing in the same direction as us, most of them dressed up. I feel a quickening in my chest and look about.

"Tuna mayo?" Toge shakes my arm to get my attention.

"No, I'm not looking for someone," I lie. I'm definitely looking for Niji. I'm trying to remember what a ballerina wears during a performance and the only thing that comes to mind is the monochromatic leotard type thing with the flared skirt.

In the crowd, I see people in bright colors, denim, or something very classically Japanese. It might be easy for a nude-colored bodice to get lost in this gathering but my eyes keep searching anyway.

"Tuna tuna?" Inumaki seems adamant to know what is going on.

So I give in. I give out a rude sigh and say, "I'm looking for a girl, okay?"

"Seaweed!" He presses.

"It's a fresher I met in the morning. She's performing a ballet routine. So I'm looking for someone who might look like a ballerina. No, I know what she looks like. Just... never mind, bro. I'll show you when I see her."

We walk into the auditorium and I find my clipboard on a seat, just where I had left it. Toge had set up the stage lighting to two circles going round and round before we left and by a show of hands, we both decide to leave it like that until the start of the show.

My friend is now more interested in finding out about this new girl who has my attention. I'm sure he'll be sticking around until he sees her.

He doesn't have to wait for long. We walk up the stairs to the stage and glide through the wings to make our way toward the greenrooms. And we're immediately welcomed by a row of cackling as we're walking down the corridor. Somehow, it doesn't sound very friendly.

"Tuna?"

We tiptoe our way to the edge of the door and although it feels wrong as hell, we listen to the conversation inside. Among the raucous cacophony, there are voices. A polite, soft voice whose words I can barely make out and a loud, harsh, mocking voice saying, "Is this tight enough? Is this tight enough for our big miss ballerina?"

"It's too tight," I finally hear the softer voice, and my heart breaks. It's a quivering voice, but it takes me no more than a second to know who it is.

My feet act on their own and before I know it, I'm standing in front of a group of bitches in costumes. The tallest one - I think I know her - has her hand on the back of a cream-colored corset, the strings tight around her fingers and she's still relentlessly pulling. Her high-pitched giggles are venomous to my ears.

And hunched over the dressing table, over scattered makeup, hair brushes, perfume bottles, and wigs is Niji. Heavily breathing, her hands tightly clutching the edge of the table, and her pained face in the mirror.

"Leave her." I've always known that I can be intimidating if I want to but my tone here scares even me.

The bitch's hand drops from the corset as if she just lost interest. "Whatever," she mumbles and swiftly moves past me. The other girls flock behind her like a trail of ants.

I rush to Niji and grab her by her shoulders. "You're fine," I tell her. "I'll get you out of this."

My hands shake as I find the strings that criss-cross on her back and pull at random to free her abdomen of the pressure. The corset slips down her waist and her breath finally stabilizes.

Toge pushes a chair in our direction and I hold it behind Niji for her to sit. But she keeps standing, further bent over the table, face buried in her palms and just breathing. I watch her back rise and fall with every breath until she starts shaking.

Niji finally sits down on the chair, still hugging her arms over the table, trembling and sobbing. I don't know what takes over me - or, maybe I do - when I move closer to her and pull her head to my abdomen. Her sobs grow bigger and shake me with her.

I want to absorb her sorrows through the point where my arm touches the back of her head.

I brush her hair back with my hands and tuck them behind her ears. "You're fine," I whisper. "They're gone. And you have a performance to... umm... perform. So dress up!"

She pulls herself from me, emptying my arms. I cross them across my chest as Niji leans back into the chair and wipes her face with the back of her hand. "I don't think I'll be going on stage anymore," she says, between sniffles.

My heart breaks again and I crouch in front of her to see her eyes. "Why not?"

"It'll be just a repetition of... Never mind! I don't think I go through with it, Maki-san." She sighs.

"You know those girls from somewhere?" I ask, confused.

"Just the one who... who I asked for help." She says, eyes on the floor. "We went to dance school together and... she used to bully me there too. I was... I was just hoping things had changed. Last time, when I was fifteen and got to perform a solo routine on stage for the first time, she got all the other students to boo at me from the audience. It... it might be the same today. I'm not... gonna go."

Shit!

"This is college." I try to reason with her. "She can't convince anyone to do shit for her."

I say that but the image of the other girls flashed before me. Just standing. Laughing. Who is this girl? Why would she choose Niji to bully?

"You were looking forward to this, weren't you?" I opt for a different take on this. She nods and I continue, "then you should just go for it. It shouldn't matter if they cheer for you or they boo you. Hell, you should do it even more if they boo you. Do it out of spite."

It makes Niji sink further back into the chair. But when she looks up at me, she just... smiles.

Okay, Maki! We get it. You really like this girl. Phew! That was kinda hot, right?

A/n: If you liked this chapter, please consider leaving a vote and commenting about what you liked or what you'd like to see in the next chapters.