A heartbeat.
Another.
Ten more.
It was an easy lub-dub lub-dub lub-dub sound that reverberated throughout the entire room. Or was it just ringing in my ears, and the illusion of the locker room being an echoic chamber maintained by eardrums and heart pumping and beating in sync?
It was like being inside both a cavernous womb and a narrow chamber. And the only sense left to me was my hearing. The internal senses or what remained were muddled and even a tinge of gravity, balance and heat were mashed together in a dough of uncertainty. And my memories were temporarily encapsulated inside. Which begged the question.
What was I doing before this?
It was like my sanity was returning to me the way sobriety does. And with it the echoes of the drum-like heartbeat ended like any heavy-metal concert: out with the booze and in with the hangover. It was a near-splitting headache, but I waited for it to blow over.
The ringing soon faded, as my other senses returned. The first to return was my sight, and before it, my hand was pulling up my jogging pants up in place and I continued it, feeling the substandard fabric scratch my thighs. I always thought that we were being robbed by making us compulsorily pay for gym uniforms for the price of mall-bought clothes with the quality of sackcloth, but I expunged such thoughts with a growing worry for whatever the hel happened earlier. Was the Phenomenon responsible for this?
Information from the inside was a bit deconstructed the way a previously completed jigsaw puzzle is being dismantled out of frustration. So I'd just have to take things from the outside and hope that there would be answers, and not questions.
And most certainly not a scene which would cause a mental breakdown.
It was said that humans were visual animals, and it was certainly true in my case. The appearance of my surroundings first appealed to me. The way I saw it, I was inside the locker room. There were rows upon rows of gym lockers around me and in front of me were two locker sets standing back to back from each other, like sentinels guarding this place. This served as the divider located in the center of the room that partitions the room into two, save for the spaces between the walls and its opposite ends. At the back of the room where I was positioned at, stood a big closet that stores the cleaning materials for this room.
I see.
This was the locker room that served as the changing room whenever we had PE classes. Having several of these scattered across the school, and having a one class per room limit usage meant that the locker rooms were insured against pre-PE stampedes. Truth be told, however, I would prefer to change my clothes inside the male CR where there are stalls for privacy and personal space, but it wasn't allowed by the school regulations. Of course, these locker rooms were separated by sex, and were placed at the opposite wings of any building they were located.... to prevent any 'shenanigans' from taking place (the males are the likely suspect for these, of course.). Not to mention the prudish principal that we had was bound to bestow the worst set of punishments imaginable to anyone caught doing these 'shenanigans' on the school grounds. If you ask me though, having any form of PE classes should be banned, but I was seeing it these days in a new light.
Although, it may seem that by having PE classes after lunchtime as counterintuitive, it actually worked well enough for an excuse to be bought. You cannot expect us to perform physical activities when our stomachs were full. And thus, our relatively lenient teacher allowed us to have a thirty minute rest before actually beginning our warm ups. Any amount of respite was good, not only because we all need it after stuffing ourselves full, but also because I disliked Phys Ed to a certain degree that I neglected that area. And instead I focused on investing upon my mind by playing visual novels.
Like seriously why would we need to be that attached to our corporeal bodies? We were always destined to shed them and then when we do, the least of our worries would not even include maintaining a passing grade in PE and all the silly idiosyncrasies we had to do for it, such as maintaining a healthy BMI and even documenting our food intake. In the not so distant future, our minds shall be free from this meat cage of ours and rule a digital realm free from the fetters of the flesh.
But for now, that cyberworld utopia isn't yet materialized and so for now, I have to suffer as I packed my school uniform and dress shoes into my sports bag, and trundle out of this room when the accustomed turn in the corridor that's supposedly a right angle in the right direction to the right, suddenly was a left.... and left me quite hanging in shock.
From what I was familiar with at the moment, the school locker rooms for both sexes have a narrow corridor that leads to another corridor depending on its location. This is done to avoid any peeping Tom incidents from the door or have an accidental flash of the forbidden fruits inside from carelessness. The doors themselves even had an autoclose swivels, kinda like those on hospital wards, even though it was redundant due to the L shaped corridors that prevent any visual recognition from what was happening inside. That is unless you have some kind of a periscope, and why the fuck would you have one is beyond me.
Regardless, the fact that the turn in the locker room should always be right and not left. Maybe I was in the wrong building? That doesn't make any sense since all locker rooms that I went to had the same layout, prompting you to think that the architect planning for this copy pasted blueprints for his work... but then again, what happened during lunch barely came into mind. It was like I was searching for a lost needle in a haystack. In total darkness.
I was itching to know what was going on. And so, instead of doing the rational thing of vacating this room and asking questions later, I did what I did best: pretend like I was some kind of a super sleuth and introspect first before acting.
The first thing that I could blame for this irregularity was of course that damnable Phenomenon. It showed to me firsthand that it had the power to affect me, the presence of the people around me, and even the places that I intimately knew. If it was capable of hybridizing the school and a sakura viewing park into some sort of an overgrown gakuen belonging to a certain tearjerking kamige with CRISPR-Cas9 levels of manipulation, you could not also rule out the fact that the corridor directions in the locker room could be altered as well.
Tackling the Phenomenon made me groan internally; I knew so little of it but that was enough to make me throw my hands up in mock surrender. And there's also my uncertainty principle of which I was probably suffering from an advanced case of schizophrenia due to my potential disability of distinguishing delusions from reality. Then that meant I should work my way from things I was marginally certain of.
Number one: I had a full stomach. That meant that I ate my lunch. At that opportune moment, I belched and resisted to call it a mouth-fart (giving me the level of dumb fun I get whenever I have to resist calling a different gas release from a different orifice as a butt-burp), while it dawned on me that I have drank cola based from what the burp tasted like. Normally, I wouldn't buy some soda to drink, cause that's a hit on my finances which I would be rather spending on buying visual novels. Then some kind of dire circumstance forced me to buy a cola? The Phenomenon perhaps coerced me? That was an idiotic thought. Most likely was that someone gave it to me. But who was it?
C4.
And with her, just like an explosion, a few of my suppressed memories bursted inside of my head, but only in fragments, as if the shrapnels reached the target first instead of the blast. Those flashes of memory assailed me in details. Chizuru's warm smile. Her bento. My banter with Gene. C4 accosting us on the doorway. Her eccentricities. Our response. Invitation. Her closeness with Chizuru was held by a sisterly bond with the former as the grande soeur and the latter as the petite soeur. Our lunch at her hangout spot and the mysterious girl within. I revealed my predicament to them and it was poorly taken into consideration and an even poorer reception was given.
When I remembered that, I suddenly felt a massive disappointment for my comrades.... was I truly expecting that they would implicitly trust me in everything what I say and do? Did my character afforded such level of trustworthiness and sincerity? Or does this world's me do not? In the end, maybe what Eliza said of people being there for me was a convenient lie to assuage me that my social circle wasn't shit. I can control my actions but I cannot control what people would think of me. Now it was even worse, that the Phenomenon can easily make me do anything it willed. Maybe some other people can redirect other's perception of themselves with their charismatic abilities, but not in my case. My sincerity was only limited and taken for granted in the case of my specialty on visual novels... and even sometimes that was doubted and purportedly the VNDB was a better source. Nowhere else. Outside of that, I was just your regular, creepy otaku freak.
In order to distract myself from this spiral of negativity collapsing down on me, I randomly opened and closed different locker doors; their smooth and well oiled motions accompanied by their closing clicks played a homogeneous metronome inside my mind. I placed my sports bag on of the benches at the back. Tried not to think so hard about it. Then something inside of one of the lockers halted my erratic behavior. I smiled inwardly to myself.
It was a black garment, utilitarian and meant to be used in an arduous and athletic activity.
Jesus.
Who the hell would leave their sports bra inside a locker here? Shouldn't they be more orderly of their stuff or something?
Then it slammed me with a realization so hard that I also slammed the locker door shut.
This was bad.
Really bad.
There were three possibilities that ran in my mind: one is that it was a prank of someone else; two, some guy in our class wore brassieres for some reason I wouldn't even dare to imagine; and perhaps the worst possibility was that....
Without warning the final piece of the puzzle connected with ease; discord was unmade but the complexity of my mnemonic system served only to propagate entropy. And propagate chaos it did.
There was a choice system after the lunch's strained conversation that prompted me to change my clothes immediately... even I would prefer to do so at a later period of time. There were two choices and naturally I would choose the most rational and that would be the least evil of the them all. Since I wasn't doing any striptease performances inside the principal's office and therefore getting an instant pass to expulsion and juvenile hall, then this locker room was the not the male locker room. This was...
.... the least evil and a grim victory, a pyrrhic one. The girl's locker room. Apparently it had the same layout as the boy's did, but since they were placed on the opposite wings of every building, then the corridor turn would be opposite as well. Right for the male... and left for the female.
Christ.
My heartbeat skyrocketed into the moon, and soon I would be facing a panic attack. Keep calm, me. Breathe in. Breathe out.
The heady scent of the room made my head spin. That was when I noticed those humors in the air. Although there was still a characteristic sweatlike smell, there also was the smell of perfume that reminded me of an exotic flower garden: culminating every floral aromatics known to man, and then mixing it altogether to create a pheromonic and emetic olfactory nightmare that rapidly made me want to puke all over.
I didn't spill my guts out for there was a greater source of mess that I would have to deal with. You could trust that I wouldn't need any sort of borderline-hentai/ecchi anime or VN reference to understand what could be the consequences if I was to get caught. Anyways those MC's get away with nothing but being subjected to slapstick violence and a moment of a lucky pervert's cathartic justice and comic relief; my entire life would all be over instead of that. Getting outta here was a priority; a priority which I should've committed to a lot sooner.
The door.
It was my only escape route.
The doorknob. It was just one turn to the left. And it will be all over.
Just as I was to touch the knob.... voices from beyond began to spill inside. Feminine sounding voices... a cacophony of them. It didn't take rocket science to figure out what would happen next. These were my classmates probably, and the least I wanted to occur was to suffer a first-class death by peer judgment reserved for sexual deviants. If committing a social seppuku in the principal's office in the form of stripping was a shinkansen straight to school hell: fast and furious; then doing the same thing in the girl's locker was akin to the Bataan Death March: an Augean anathema with the same destination.
My only escape route was blocked, and I couldn't run away, and confronting them was like trying to fight a losing battle.
Then maybe kowtow before them and petition for mercy? No, that would be like offering myself to the wolves.
Or try to deceive them? But how? Create a story that a teacher told me to clean here? Tell them that I had a terminal, psychological sickness that forces me to cavort at the changing rooms of the opposite sex? Or pretend that I am really penguin that wandered here by chance, flapping my arms up and down and slide through the floor as I garble about the South Pole?
None of those would work, especially the last one.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Maybe tell them the truth, instead, if lies wouldn't suffice?
But neither truth nor lie could save me this time. I took action as quick yet quiet as I could.
The doors of the cleaning closet swivelled with ease and silence as I smuggled myself inside, and close the door with the same adroitness. It was dark and a bit musty in this closet, but it was wider than I expected, and breathable. Asides from me, there was nothing inside the closet but dust and a light chemical like scent, probably from bleach. Alone, my heartbeat sounded thunderous like a brewing storm. But nothing compared to the hurricane chatter that was raging outside.
They were here. And they were talking. Combine those two thoughts, and I knew I have to hold the Bastille for a long while. This was the room where it happened... whether I would hit a bad end early on or maybe to continue the game.
"Hey, hey..."
"Literature was so.... I know right?"
"I lost weight... "
"Awww...."
"Could we drop by at.... after class...."
"So tell us... about your boy....."
"No way!...."
"And I was like..."
And in between those noises were some girlish gasps and giggles; some feminine and modest, while the others were loud and boisterous.
I tried to shut off the noises coming from the locker room. It was a mundane and typical girl talk, with few things that would interest me. And boy do my classmates love to talk and chatter. It was one thing to talk about visual novels, and if they did so, I would rush outside of this closet with a welcoming smile, and bathe in the presence of my comrades. But it was another thing if it was this ordinary. Yet any sight outside would appear extraordinary for any hormone-fuelled, virgin, teenager like me whose sole experience with sex consisted only with solo dates with my hand with eroges and 'weight' as the fuel for my lonely, and physical relationship.
A changing room with females inside was sort of a forbidden garden that man wasn't allowed to trod. Most of my peers my age would think this was a lucky situation of sorts and their minds would be filled with various NSFW scenarios all the while internally chanting 'audentes Fortuna iuvat'. Seriously, the hormonal mind weighed a lot compared to the virtuous one when you are a teenager.
I wasn't a misogynist, no... but you couldn't exactly say that I was a gentleman. I was interested in girls, mostly in the 2D realm, but in 3D... does gynophobia even exist? I couldn't even talk properly to C4, but it went smoothly with the new characters in my life.
Earlier Chizuru believed my story and Gene was noncommital, but it was C4's actions that I was worried about. And her vehement denial against my story. Sure, the way I described the Phenomenon sounded pretty idiotic and it was a really lame piece of shit that somebody pulled out of their ass; its worthlessness predates a cheap five peso paper book, and that was saying something. Even so, C4 wasn't the type to deliver a straightforward denial. She would analyze it from top to bottom in great detail, and rip your entire house of cards while demonstrating to you that she could do better, and you would even feel shame regarding your incompetence about presenting something. All the while she was doing this, a sinister smile would be plastered on her face. That's the C4 I knew. So why did she flip her switch earlier?
What was that all about?
Arrrggh, I shouldn't be thinking about her right now. I should possess an utmost worry about my condition right now. They were still talking and I was confident that this wouldn't be over too soon. Still, nothing lasts forever and the worst part of this aside from hinging my survival upon my stealthy presence and their obliviousness, was perhaps waiting. I wasn't really a patient person outside of visual novels. Patience wasn't one of my virtues and they were testing it to the extreme. I was really uneasy now... very uneasy. There was something that I forgot... an incongruity in place but I couldn't feel what.
Time didn't even seem to progress inside the dark closet and even though I could count the seconds away in my head, it felt like I was a convict condemned to the death row, whiling my time off in a solitary cell. If the door opened, then off to the guillotine I go. I couldn't take the pressure anymore and be damned if the light from the closet gives me away for I was gonna seek solace from my phone. I cupped my pockets on my pants.
Shit.
I didn't have any pockets on my jogging pants. Damn. That meant my phone was either at my bag or my school pants. I couldn't remember much about what happened after I picked the choice to change my clothes here, but the Phenomenon was perhaps that omnipotent that it ripped that memory from my mnemonic continuity.
So no phone. I could live with that for now. But my feeling of unease... that something else was missing still remained. I kept groping around that emotion like a wet tongue probing inside the gap of a tooth wall. Hollow, yet distinct.
"Ahhh... whose sports bag is this?"
"Beats me. It looks like it belongs to a guy."
"No way ahahahahaha. Wouldn't that mean a creepy guy changed his clothes here?"
"Ewwww.... I'm getting goosebumps with that. But I wouldn't think a guy would do that. Not in our class."
"Then shall we ask the others then?"
"I have a better idea. Let's open it and find out."
+÷×=/×&÷&÷£#**÷*#&#*@(@(#&×(@(#(#((#*#&#&#**#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*^$@€×¥!¥!¥#&×,*×(!@*@¥×(@(+£#&×£#&#_>~{•○[○◇◇●◇●◇\[•♤○♤~{♤•■○♤~{•!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I was screaming obscenities inside my head, like an angry Lithuanian kid trashtalking for all he's worth.... and for whatever blunders I did... this was one of the worst.
I left my sports bag at one of the benches and with the rotten luck I had, the girls have spotted it. Frankly, it was a unisex sports bag with no distinctive features, and how in the world those gals sniffed out that it might belong to a guy was beyond me. Couldn't they safely reason out that it was probably belonging to a girl's brother and she used it as her own? Or even respect my natural right of property as asserted by John Locke?
Regardless, my life and liberty was over now. Goodbye, the two of ye. I hardly knew them anyways. I was resigned to my fate as I slumped down inside my chamber.
"Hey, what are you guys doing?"
"Ah. Eliza, get a load of this. Some guy probably left his sports bags here."
"Hmmm.... really? This could belong to a girl as well, too."
"Seeeee.... I told you so."
"No way! This really belongs to a guy. If I remember well.... someone in our class trudges this around PE class?"
"This is a pretty common looking sports-bag, you know? We can't just assume that it belongs to a guy immediately, Rina. I have a manly backpack that I use for school camps because it was convenient for me. So it wouldn't be strange that a girl may own this."
"Y-yeah. But you know, I have this weirdest feeling that I saw it earlier. A guy in our class maybe picked this up during lunch."
"Ahahahahahaha. You and your intuition, Rina."
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean, Alice?"
"Now, now, girls. Let's think of it this way. This is the locker room, right? And we're not the only ones using it. Sometimes the girls from the athletic teams may use this room and it's highly likely that this sports bag belongs to one of them."
"Well... that's true..."
"Isn't that so? That's why we don't have to open it."
"But shouldn't we check it too? Just to be safe, Eliza?"
"Well, I'm sure the contents are nothing dangerous. Or scandalous. We deal with lost stuff almost everyday at the council and we have the good sense not to breach someone's privacy. Unless it's really necessary. Tell you what. Let's leave it here in case the owner might come back for this... but I'll also place a notice at the lost and found section at the office. If this was retrieved by the owner, then there's no need to worry."
"Ehhh... but what if someone else took it instead?"
"Well, I trust that everybody in this school wouldn't snoop what's inside the bag. Or maybe even steal it."
"EEHHHHH??? Wait a minute, Eliza are you referring to us?
"Wait, us? Aren't you the one pushing your 'A dude totally changed his clothes here' theory, Rina?"
"Oi oi, don't ditch me when the weather goes bad, Alice!"
"Calm down you guys. Jeez. The owner would pretty upset when she finds out the fuss about this. Let me just file a memo, just to be sure. And then I'll take it to the lost and found."
"Here it goes... our Queen Elizabeth writes a royal decree...."
Giggles.
"Oh stop it you two... you know I don't like that nickname."
For now, the guillotine about to rush through my neck was postponed. I was saved? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I wasn't executed yet! Boy, oh boy, I could rush outside and hug Eliza for saving my scrawny ass from certain death. I was that giddy that one fact seemed to elude me. Luckily I caught it in time.
She was still gonna relinquish the sports bag towards the lost and found corner. I couldn't exactly say that I was saved. I haven't tried retrieving anything from there (I couldn't exactly say that I haven't lost any school materiel; it was just that either they were replaceable or they weren't worth the effort to retrieve them), but I heard the paperwork was dreadful enough that you could've wished that your missing items were expendable, but in most cases it wasn't: watches, wallets and cellphones. I could opt for a legitimate lost and found option and the papers could go fuck themselves. And the student council, especially Eliza, would read such documents, and it wouldn't take a genius to add two and two and get a sum of four plus I changed my clothes at the girl's locker room. It was still a bad end. Even if I didn't make a move, it would be a matter of time for them to check the contents for any discernible clues. My mom, bless her thoughtful mind but damn this situation, have made it sure that whoever found my clothes in case they were lost, would have a way to return it to me.
That's right. Details were written at the hem of my clothes regarding my name, grade and section and my contact number. If that wasn't evidence, then I don't know what is.
Even though the hanging blade atop my jugular hasn't fallen, I was still kneeling at the chopping block at Place de la Concorde. The howling mob was still outside; the Reign of Terror and her sansculottes still eager for my death. They weren't leaving anytime soon. It felt like there was a flag I haven't triggered to get in to a peaceful ending.
"Say, Eliza... you coming with us later? A karaoke night? We get so lonely nowadays without you."
"You mean I'm the one getting lonely. Girl, don't you have your boyfriend to keep you company?"
"Ehhh... but I'd want to have a girl's night with you guys."
"At a Monday night?"
"Even so Eliza, if it was on Friday, council work would still hold you back, right?"
"Yeah...I'm really sorry. But I promise that after all the extra work imposed by the Intramurals is done, then we'll have a small party. My treat, of course."
"Promise? Then will you make a royal decree out of it?"
"Yeah, I already wrote it in my memo."
"Now that's Queen Elizabeth for you. Hey hey, have you finally achieved your goal of befriending ?"
I perked up immediately, when I heard my name. Is the herald already calling me to present myself before the Good Queen Bess and her court? Dear me, I shan't bother. I was still busy plotting how to tie the only loose end that could trip me ---my sports bag--- and the way I saw it, marching boldly into the student council office like the Grande Armeé was treading into Russia unprepared and eventually, the Battle of Waterloo would judge me. No, I wouldn't have to repeat Napoleon's mistakes. I just have skulk silently and hopefully steal my sports bag back. But I have to do it today, because my uniform is there. And not just today.... you can't attend normal classes with your PE attire on, and so my time limit for retrieving it was just before PE classes would end. Should I skip PE instead? Or go home and secure a fresh set of uniform? What should I do?
Shit, shit was I already this checkmated?
"Ahahahahha. Well, even though he's a bit strange, is a good guy, I think."
"Eliza, you're too kind for your own good."
Well, if you guys could see me where I was right now, you might retract your entire opinions, and continue the Revolution. I was miffed about how long could girls even change clothes and by the fact that I couldn't even make a move here, except but to think. I was just about to scheme what to do next when the gossipy sounds halted.
The entire clamor in the room stopped, as if it suddenly became an anechoic chamber. What was happening? Was there any developments to the front? Was the Gendermarie riding forth for my salvation? Was a Deus Ex Machina coming to rescue me from this predicament and give me plot armor? Whatever it was, a development was most welcome. I pressed my ear closer to the closet door to learn more.
"This is a quite a surprise, Cassandra. Here to finally join us at PE?"
"You know me; if I have to choose between being hardworking and slovenly, the nature of my choice would be obvious."
"Indeed. Then what brings you here then? Not for the joy of my company, surely?"
"I'm changing my clothes, why else? Isn't this what we were supposed to do here?"
"Then you're joining us a for a run, then. Sad to say, Marie isn't here for challenging you, but you'll have to settle against little old me."
"..... I never said anything about joining you and your group of hens. I want to change my clothes is all."
Whoa. C4 is here. Is she my cavalry relief or a potential reinforcment for the besiegers? I hoped it was the former.... but why would she even change her clothes while not attending PE in itself was baffling. An excuse of some sorts? Or was it her eccentricity kicking in?
Whatever it was, I hope she wouldn't figure out I was here or I could hope to be that her execution would be painless.
"I see. Oh! Chizuru-chan! Here to change your clothes as well?"
"H-hai... Eliza-san, domou."
"Hello to you as well. Are you looking for something? Or someone. You look rather... lost. , perhaps?"
"...No! Not at all.... hahahaha... ah Onee-chan, mitte... doesn't that sports bag belong to --------?"
"Me. Good work finding my missing sports bag, Chizuru-chan. If you will Eliza, hand it over to me."
"... isn't that another sports bag that you're holding?"
"It is. And yes I own two... because why not? You're most observant and obsequious enough to point out the obvious. Is that why they call you the Philosopher-Queen?"
Oi oi. Wouldn't that be a lése-majesté? Still, I hoped that C4 would bail me out here and I'll owe her big time.
"No... I believe that you're only one who calls me that, Cassandra."
"Sure thing, Your Grace. Now hand me my sports bag, if you may."
"... here you go."
I didn't know what to make of the current situation. Why C4 told a very flimsy lie that almost everyone could pick up was beyond me... but even Eliza seemed to tolerate this sort of eccentricity she often displayed. The other girls accompanying Eliza were notoriously quiet as well, though I get the idea they wouldn't be able to browbeat C4 into a diplomatic submission. She was wily enough to twist this situation into her own will, just by using a shitty bluff that wouldn't even work on a peewee poker game. Regardless, she had my sports bag now. And of course she knew it belongs to me... so will she return it later? I could only place my bets upon C4, and hope it wouldn't blow on my face.
I heard clacking footsteps like a well arranged infantry battalion drill. It could have been only made possible by the combination of the spike heels of black leather boots neatly pinging off the tiled floor plus the total speechlessness of everyone else. And were those sounds getting closer towards me or was it just me?
"Ah Onee-chan where are you going?"
"Inside this cleaning closet, of course. I'm changing my clothes here."
Ah shit. Somone stop her. This wasn't her C4 syndrome kicking in... she knew I was inside. Elsewise she wouldn't get this crazy ideas asserting my sports bag and trying to get inside the closet for some reason. Instead of leading the entire herd of feminity outside if she was going to help me... she didn't. She would eliminate me here in this dingy closet, wouldn't she?
"Why.... would you do that, Onee-chan? Shouldn't we change together outside?"
Yeah, good point Chizuru. Drill some sense into your crazy onee-sama.
"Ohhhh? As much as I --------"
"Waah waah waah! Onee-chan what are you doing???!"
" ----------want you smother with ----------"
"------- your chest! Onee-chan ... your chmmmmfff!!!"
Why was the closet feeling a bit hotter than usual? Was there heating unit here or something?
"... I would have to do so in the closet. I wouldn't want Eliza faint at seeing my tribal tattoos and other nasty things on my account."
"Ahahahaha. You're not a bother, Cassandra. But if you insist on changing inside the -------"
"I will. Many thanks, Your Philosophical Grace."
Eliza couldn't even make a dent on this girl's impetus.
"Chizuru-chan, when you're done changing, don't wait for me, okay? I won't be even attending PE. But you will."
What a bad influnce to be with really: don't do what I do; do what I say, instead. Chizuru answered with a muffled aggreement and I sincerely hoped that she wouldn't get too corrupted by C4.
"Ah by the way. Do not go near the closet as I will practice a spoken poetry piece as I change my clothes.... good, good. Gratitude well felt."
The footsteps were continuing towards here. C4's gonna kill me for sure; a far more lethal one than what society could mete out to me.
SHIIIIT.
I couldn't hold the door shut from within to make it look like it malfunctioned. So the only choice was to brace through the inevitable. The moment where words fail to describe the unimaginable. Where the door creaks open to let in a little bit of light like a lighthouse does to guide ships through a stormy night but in truth this is a wrecker's lamplight and it brought only naught but false hope. My savior probably turned out to be my executioner as she opened my cell door.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit ad infinitum.
She was here inside.
Even in the darkness, she saw. That I was about to piss my pants. I saw her too as well, her normally emotional face was unreadable. Her yellow eye seemed to illuminate the room. The eye of the storm; the false light. I was already wanting to cry.
She held a finger to her lips; a universal sign for silence. I didn't want to die screaming like a fattened pig being butchered for lechon so I bit my lip.
Hard.
Her hand reached for her pockets... I didn't want to see my own death animation being performed live.
I closed my eyes but then something poked me at my forehead. I instinctively jerked my eyes open. Instead of a cold muzzle of a pistol or a thin point of a stiletto, it was the edge of my phone. And something was written on the notepad.
'First of all, I do not approve of what you are doing. I am quite angry of how things turned out but let's worry about the present stuff for now. Second, do not make any noises. Moe or otherwise. This is our hallowed grounds and we are extra sensitive to any intruders. It's a stroke of luck that you managed to survived behind enemy lines this long. With my precautions, I could speak in a soft whisper unquestioned, but your voice, androgynous bit as it is, is a dead giveaway. Use the notepad to communicate.... although I would miss listening to that voice of yours. Still wouldn't this be a great practice if you ever become deaf somedays? You could become that deaf girl who's really a waifu material. Practice saying ngomenathai if you have such plans. Third, you may not know, but we have searched for you after you left us with your phone in a hurry. I was happy enough to leave you to your fate, but Chizuru-chan, bless her heart, reminded to all of us that you were our friend, and friends should help each other if we're in a pinch. I never thought of you guys as friends, but I could never deny my sweet imouto anything so I guess your my friend now, fait accompli. Mozart was guilt tripped into aiding us to secure your sorry ass... but the majority of his eagerness to help was that I blackmailed him with the consequences of posting into the social media his most recent piano recital practice. He turned into a hierophantic slave real quick. But I do believe he really was worried for you. Probs. And lastly, well... give me a single good fucking reason why I shouldn't immobilize you right now with a jiujitsu hold and drag your perverted ass straight into our Big Mac of a principal and force you to confess your horrendous desires of infiltrating our sanctuary to peep on our nubile bodies. Just one good reason.
TL;DR: Why the fuck are you here?
PS. Change your screen password from "Wonderful Everyday is the best kamige" to something more secure.... not to mention not only was it obvious but also very disgusting.'
As I read what she had written on my phone which went from bad to worse, segueing from events that transpired to her snide remarks culminating into her grand inquiry spiced with a few threats here and there. This girl's whack... but I might have a chance to safely see myself away from this kangaroo court composed of C4 as my judge, jury and executioner if I played my cards right. I motioned for her to hand me back my phone.
She did, while keeping her eyes on me the whole time. I changed my password first, as it was the first that needed to be amended. A nondescript password would be fine... like my favorite waifu. How in the world C4 knew my password was beyond me, but if her uncanny instincts could track me down here, then certainly it was a piece of cake to crack my phone open. Was my lockscreen background a dead giveaway to my password? Such thoughts flitted along as I wrote my testimony. I plead not guilty.
'If I could speak, then you would understand. But since I couldn't, you'll have to settle with my writing. Remember what I told you guys earlier? That was true and it forced me to do this. Which normally I wouldn't. Believe it or not a set of choices appeared and I was given the choice of whether to change my clothes inside the principal's office or the girl's locker room. Indeed, I stayed here a bit longer than I intended but I do not have any lascivious intentions. If the Phenomenon never forced my hand, I wouldn't even consider heading here. Say what you will but I plead not guilty of having 'horrendous desires of infiltrating your sanctuary to peep on your nubile bodies.''
She almost popped a vein in response but she reined it in... looking defeated like so. She silently whispered in the darkness, as if afraid of stirring the shadows within.
"I'd love to shoot you down like what the military did to Inukai Tsuyoshi, but I'll refrain from doing so. Chizuru-chan might believe in everything what you said but I'm a bit skeptical with that. However the truth remained that you were acting strange from earlier... and this as well. Stuff you wouldn't normally do. I mean, you don't have the guts to hit on me... much less do something stupid as this. Judging from the fact that you left your cellphone, and all the other eyewitness accounts from people who saw you at the classroom, it was as if you were being chased by something."
"....t-then... y-you believe me?"
"Didn't I told you to use your fucking phone to communicate? Nevermind... I'll think of something up if we're caught. Regarding if I believe you... No, not entirely. But the fact remained that there are times that you do not have full control of yourself. That makes you a very dangerous individual to others and especially yourself. That's why... I figured out that I will... no... we will back you up whenever you get into something stupid again. Starting now."
".... y-you're not turning me in?"
"I will if you keep blabbering your mouth. Still, a promise is a promise. Blame Chizuru-chan for this. I never saw her so adamant, so at the very least I have to honor her request. However, you'll have to tell us next time whenever your.... condition perks up again. Otherwise it's straight to the sanitorium you'll go."
I nodded feverishly as I couldn't even imagine my good luck. Sure, I was trapped with a living explosive inside a dingy cleaning cabinet, but maybe I could count her in with me? And Chizuru too and maybe Gene. What happened to him, though? I typed out a message to my phone and showed it to C4.
"Ah, our pianist mutual friend? Since you were seen last time trudging your sports bag, we figured out your maybe changing your clothes somewhere. He offered to scour the entire male locker rooms while Chizuru-chan feared the worst. We decided to check the library and cafeteria but since there were no commotions, we opted for the our locker room. Strangest thing was, I figured it must have been twenty minutes since. It isn't normal for anyone to remain that long in the locker rooms. Then I saw your sports bag, and I hedged my bets that you were trapped in the closet with all the wolves surrounding you. And then here we are."
'Wouldn't they figure out based on the way you acted earlier?'
"They're suspicious either ways. Chizuru-chan is not perceived as crazy as me... and only I can pull this feat naturally. I imagine they're leaving as soon as they saw me with my clothes fully changed. So let's get this over with."
Even though it was dark, her body outline was still visible and I had to avert my eyes. Was she changing her clothes right here, right now?
"Ah... don't peek, . Pretend I'm a basilisk or something.... just a glance means that the wolves outside would have quite a show."
For the life of mine I had to stiffle a giggle, because this situation was beyond absurd. Executioner or savior, she was right here in this makeshift prison cell of mine. I wasn't alone. I've got to thank Chizuru later for this boon and maybe even Gene too. The entire thing was ridiculous, and for demon's script it wasn't that thought out. But maybe... maybe just for a bit... I felt like I was finally saying lines beyond what was in the script.
The heat from C4 was unreal... like high temperatures ready to blast nitroglycerin all around us. I closed my eyes, yet the warmth of someone else was suffusing, permeating through the darkness, mingling with mine as if we were one.