Don't Say Stop Believin', Ch.11 (part 3/3)

"You weren't in class."

"I... wasn't ready."

So far, this was about as deep as Azusa and Jun's conversation had gotten. The awkwardness between them had been too great for either of them to make a real first move. They'd done little more than exchange trivialities.

Finally, Jun asked Azusa, "When did you find out?"

"Something seemed weird the whole time," she said. "But I didn't know for sure until you forgot your phone."

"What was suspicious about - oh! Oh! You read my messages, didn't you?"

"Well, excuse me! They were showing when I looked at it! Whose fault was that?"

Strangely enough, this broke the ice. The two girls half-talked, half-argued, going over each detail of the past month that either of them had been wondering about. Azusa was careful not to give away the existence of gimmicks, which wasn't just her secret, but otherwise they were completely truthful with each other. They were at it for a good 25 minutes, by which time they were both in a better mood.

"Tanning! How did I not think of that?" asked Jun. "My best guess was that you were drinking too much chocolate milk!"

"That wouldn't do it. Believe me, I tried."

"I never knew you were so vain. Come on, who needs a tan?"

"Who needs non-frizzy hair?"

"Touche."

They both laughed. Azusa leaned back against the wall. "I really missed this."

"Yeah. Me too."

"Why, Jun? Why did you have to be such a... a bonehead this month?"

Without meaning to, Azusa had brought a bit of the serious atmosphere back. Jun looked down. "It was just something small that turned into something big. I had ideas about how it would end, but not how to get there. I didn't think it would be so hard."

"You didn't think you'd like us so much," said Azusa.

"Well, you I knew. But the others... yeah. I couldn't break away from the act. It was too much fun."

"I know the feeling," said Azusa. "Too bad fun is all it is."

"What else should it be?"

"This is a school club, Jun! It's supposed to be serious! We're supposed to be improving ourselves, and I'm the only one who's really trying!"

Jun could tell the anger in the guitarist's face wasn't meant for her. "What's this about, Azusa?"

"I'm... I'm thinking about quitting."

"C'mon."

"I'm serious! What do I get from this club besides a headache? What am I learning here?"

Jun just stared.

"Well?"

"I'm waiting for the punchline."

"I'm serious!"

"I know. But if you could hear the way you talk about this club, you'd be waiting for the punchline too."

"The way I... what?"

"You talk to me and Ui every day about this club. Sometimes you're happy, and sometimes you complain... but it's the same way you complain about your parents. Not like you're a 'member' who could leave any time... like you're family. Meant for each other."

"Well - well maybe I've been wrong about that! You were wrong all month! Why should I listen to you?"

"It's your life," Jun agreed. "I just can't believe you're considering this. I'm really sure it wouldn't make you happy."

"Maybe I'm not supposed to be. Maybe I'll be unhappy either way. But if I belong here, why am I so different from them? Why do I feel like they were fine before I came along, and I'm just... extra?"

"No, you're --"

"I am, Jun!" Tears were in Azusa's eyes. "They don't need me! I'm not even the only guitarist! All they want is to have fun, and I'm just a... a drag! A wet blanket!"

"Maybe that's the whole reason they need you."

Azusa looked up at Jun.

"Did that sound deep?" said the bassist. "Heh, good one, me. But look, every group needs somebody serious, right? Somebody to keep them on course? You really think Sawa-chan cares about that? You think Mio is determined enough to do it alone?"

"But I'm just a..."

"A junior, yeah. So they have to set an example for you!"

Azusa narrowed her eyes. "This is them setting an example?"

"I didn't say they were good at it. But you make them try."

There was silence for a minute.

"I don't know," said Azusa. "I don't know if I can handle this. I don't know if I can even be friends with you again yet."

"Yeah, I know. I'll just... I'll be around. Okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, Jun."

If Ui had been there, they might have hugged. But it was just the two of them, without her balancing presence. There was still too much between them right now to be smoothed over. For a moment, they made tentative motions; then they just nodded to each other, and Jun turned to go.

"One last question," said Azusa.

"Sure."

"Why was I Target Zero?"

Jun looked surprised. "Because zero comes first."

As her friend turned back around, Azusa found it impossible to keep a smile off her face.

For about a minute after Mio, Ritsu, and Yui read the article, not a word was spoken.

"Well," said the drummer, "that was... different."

"Maybe this is the wrong article," said Yui.

"No, it's got our names. This is definitely it."

"What do you think Sawa-chan will say?"

"Hooooo boy, I don't wanna think about it. We'd better not even show her. Whatta you think, Mio?"

Mio didn't answer. She was just staring.

"Oh no you don't," said Ritsu, snapping a finger in front of her face. "You are not going all Mio on us again."

The bassist glared. "No, I was just... disturbed for a second. Don't use my name like that!"

"Why not? It's shorter than 'catatonic over nothing'."

"Nothing, huh? You just don't take anything seriously! You're really Ritsu that way!"

Yui asked, "Can I be --"

"This is a straightforward fight," said Ritsu. "Don't Yui it up."

"Oo!" said a voice. "What am I?"

Everyone turned. It was -

"Mugi!" said Yui. "You're here!"

Beaming, their rich friend reached out for them, and everyone joined in a group hug. They had all seen her yesterday, but their worry had made it feel like a long time. And it really had been a long time since they'd seen her like this.

"Notice anything different?" she asked when they separated.

"Of course!" said Mio. "You're back to normal!"

"We can finally see your belly button again!" Yui agreed. "If you lift your shirt."

Tsumugi looked slightly hurt. "I didn't mean that."

"Uh... new haircut?" said Ritsu.

"Yes! I knew you would notice, Ricchan!" She hugged the drummer again.

"Is... is that new?" Mio asked. It was a reasonable question. Her hair looked the same as ever.

"Of course it is! It's short!"

"It is?"

"Look!" Tsumugi held up a handful of her hair. "It's a whole four inches shorter!"

"...Mugi, your hair is three feet long."

"Well, Ritsu noticed." She stuck her tongue out, then giggled at having done so.

Mio glared at Ritsu, who mouthed the words "Wild guess."

"So why are you all standing here at the stairs?"

"Room's in use," said Ritsu. "Azusa and Jun are hashing it out."

Tsumugi's eyes lit up. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

She ran up the stairs. The others shared a look, then followed. By the time they got there, she already had her ear to the door.

"No good," she said. "Does anyone have a cup?"

"Mine is inside," said Yui. "I'll go get it." Mio grabbed her arm and gave her a scolding glance.

"Then we'll just have to look!" Tsumugi very slowly turned the doorknob.

"What exactly do you think is happening in there?" asked Ritsu.

"Bonding!" She silently opened the door a crack.

"Well, don't bother them over it. Mio and I can fight over something and then make up. We do it like once a week."

Mio was about to complain, but then everyone heard Jun's voice dangerously close to the door. "Run!"

They had just barely made it back to the bottom of the stairs when Jun stepped through the door. Then she turned back and looked at it funny. "Wasn't this shut?"

"Gremlins," said Ritsu as they passed her on their way back up.

"Hey, senior!" Jun said to Tsumugi. "You're ba- AAAA! What happened to you?"

"I am on an excellent diet," the heiress said without missing a beat.

"Oh. Wow! Talk about fast!"

"Talk about dumb," Ritsu whispered to Mio.

"Senior, I'm really sorry I --"

"It's all right," said Tsumugi. "Will you be staying in the club?"

"No, we all agreed it's best if I'm not a member anymo--"

"Shh," said Ritsu. "You were never a member in the first place, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Um, see you later, people from some other club I was never in!" Jun hurried down the stairs.

"Wait!" said Tsumugi, still looking confused. "Wouldn't that mean you never got your hair cut?"

"Right! It's still long! It just looks short!"

Yui looked back and forth from Tsumugi to the disappearing Jun and remarked, "Hair is weird today."

"They're terrible! Just terrible! Especially Ritsu! I don't have the words to describe how awful they..."

The principal waited.

"They... are..."

She couldn't continue. These words tasted foul in her mouth. Sawako had done a lot of lying to a lot of people, and it always felt wrong, but today it felt uncomfortable. Unpleasant. Worse than telling the truth.

Over the last two days, Sawako had looked deep into her own soul and hated what she'd seen. She couldn't just forget about it now. She had to change.

"No," she told the principal. "I can't do this."

"Do what?"

Sawako took one last, deep breath as a teacher at Sakuragaoka. "I'm sorry, sir. You were right the first time. The students are only part of the problem. The other part is me."

His eyes narrowed. "Explain."

"I'm a bigger slacker than any of the club members. I'm usually not even there when they practice. When I go to the music room, it's for snacks and tea. I let them take the lead when it comes to club activities; I would certainly never have pushed them into Regionals on my own. I let them take it easy because I want to take it easy too."

As strange as it was under the circumstances, Sawako felt a weight lift off her. There were people who knew her true personality, but she had never come out and told someone before. If this was how Catholics felt after confessing their sins, Sawako could see the appeal. But she'd confessed to her boss, and the consequences would be much bigger than a few extra Hail Marys.

"I see." The principal's face was neutral.

"There's just one thing I have to say in my defense," Sawako continued. She had been thinking all day, and this was the only half-decent strategy she'd come up with. "I can have more than one reason."

"Hmm?"

"A month ago, I told you the girls had natural talent. I said I had never put them on a strict schedule because it might wreck their enthusiasm, not make them better players. That was the truth. Now today, I'm telling you I never came down hard on them because I preferred to take it easy myself. That's also the truth.

"There are two reasons. I'm not proud of the second one. All I'm asking is that you don't ignore the first. I'm not the teacher I should be, but I still am a teacher. I've never wanted less than the best for my students. I'm just... not there yet."

"This is your final answer, then?" asked the principal. "You won't be switching stories again?"

"No," she said. "That's the truth."

Sawako gripped the arms of her chair and wai-

"That was close," said the principal.

"...What?"

"It's a good thing you changed your mind. For a few seconds there, you were fired."

Sawako's jaw hit the floor. "This was a test?!"

"Yes."

"You don't really blame the kids for everything?"

"No. I didn't really expect them to win at Regionals either."

"WHAT?"

The principal smiled. "Oh, I hoped they might, of course. But it wasn't likely. This was their first competition of any sort, wasn't it?"

Sawako rested her head on one hand, taking all this in. "Okay, so... why tell me they had to? And why lie now?"

"I wanted two things from you, Sawako. First, I wanted evidence that your club was not simply taking up space. You can hardly blame me for getting that impression, given the behaviour I saw a month ago."

"Right..."

"But on that day, I saw even worse behaviour from you. You lied over and over, blaming everyone but yourself. I won't tolerate that from one of my teachers. However, since you were clearly in a panic, I decided to give you another chance."

"And that was today?"

"Correct. I judged it likely that your students would lose; the test was whether you would put all the blame on them once again. You passed."

Sawako raised an eyebrow. "So you lied to me to teach me honesty?"

"No, not honesty. Responsibility. Your students look to you for an example. If they see you dodging and scheming, they will learn to do the same."

I'm hearing this setting-an-example thing a lot today, Sawako thought. "Do you really think I'm that... influential?"

"Certainly. If I seem demanding, Sawako, it is only because you have chosen the most important of all careers. The future of Japan is in your hands every day. It's time you began taking that seriously."

As Sawako paused, unsure what to say, he added, "We have a position for a homeroom teacher opening up next year. You could start there."

She was startled. "You nearly fired me, and now you're offering me a promotion?"

"Not offering, no. You still have to apply."

"But if I was bad enough to fire a minute ago --"

"This was never about your ability. By all accounts, you are a fine teacher. The problem is your attitude, and I now believe you are prepared to work on it." He paused ominously. "That belief will be subject to revision."

"U-understood," said Sawako.

"Good. That will be all."

She got up, bowed to the principal, headed for the door... and stopped halfway.

Her honesty had been rewarded, but it was only half-honesty. There were still six big lies hanging in the air: the gimmicks. And although Sawako had decidedly mixed feelings about her boss right now, what with the trick he'd pulled, she still didn't feel right about leaving things this way. Not only was it dangerous (she would be history if he ever did find out), that foul taste in her mouth was back.

Cursing her conscience, and herself for listening to it, she turned around and said, "There's one more thing I have to tell you. The club members --"

He held up a hand. "Stop there."

"Yes?"

"What you're going to tell me - does it involve any immediate threat to anyone's well-being?"

"No..."

"Then let it be. I am content with where things stand now."

Sawako raised both eyebrows. "Really?"

"I intend this meeting to be a fresh start for you. I'm sure your attitude problem has led you to make other mistakes, and I'm willing to leave them in the past. But if you tell me about them, I will have no choice but to punish you."

"Oh."

"Let's avoid that. I'll see you on Monday."

It was the best of both worlds. Sawako had tried to confess and the principal had outright told her it was okay. Part of her brain was trying to remind her that this might be yet another test, but it was drowned out by the rest of her brain shouting Don't look a gift horse in the mouth. She bowed again and left before he could change his mind.

As soon as she was outside the teachers' offices, she felt different. The farther she got, the more it sank in.

It's over.

Her whole body felt lighter. Her steps quickened.

This hellish, godforsaken month is over. I got through it. The world hit me with everything it had, and I'm still on my feet.

The staircase to the music room was in sight. She didn't make it - the rush of emotion was so overwhelming she tripped. It didn't hurt a bit. Getting to her knees, Sawako raised her fists to the sky and screamed:

"FREEDOM!"

Now alone in his office, the principal smiled. Sawako was right. It was possible to have more than one reason for one's actions.

He himself, for example, had told Sawako not to make whatever damning confession had been on her lips. It was time to start fresh, he had told her. And that was true.

Now, perhaps it was also true that schools with no disabled students find it difficult to get grants to bring them up to code. The grants always go to schools with a pressing need. The sort of pressing need illustrated, say, by an injured student struggling for a month to get her wheelchair around the school - forced to rely on friends carrying it for her (even if no one seemed to see this happen). Such a story might be highly useful to everyone... as long as it wasn't based on false pretenses.

He had also told Sawako she had passed the test and saved her job by being honest with him. And that was true.

It might also be true, perhaps, that he had no desire to upset the Kotobuki family by firing their daughter's favourite teacher. That a firing offense for any other employee might be an occasion for... creativity where this one was concerned. Not to mention that regardless of his actions after finding out, a principal who had allowed a phony club to exist under his nose for a year and a half might not look good to parents and investors.

Yes, this multiple-reasons theory was worth exploring. Principal Yamada hoped Sawako got her act together, but he also hoped she never quite lost the cunning edge that she'd shown in defending herself. She was bound to need it now and then.

After all, there was a day and an hour for everything.

The light music club was now back at the dining table. Tsumugi was preparing a fresh pot of tea. The other members were enjoying various treats. Conversation topics ranged from local sports ("I once saw a middle-school baseball game where this girl hit the ball right into her own glasses!") to physics ("Oh come on, that's impossible") to ethics ("Are you calling me a liar?") to recent events ("Hey, why do you think Sawa-chan put those rainbows and pink triangles on Jun's costume?") Nobody, except possibly Azusa, was even thinking about playing a musical instrument.

God was in his heaven and all was right with the world.

But was that really so? Ritsu looked around at her friends, pondering. Just yesterday, Yui had been "dumped", Azusa had found out her friend was a traitor, and Mio had bombed almost as badly as on what Ritsu liked to call "P-Day". Honestly, the drummer didn't feel great herself. And Mugi! Whatever had happened to her, it had been serious, life-crushing stuff (and by now Ritsu had figured out about half of it, though it would be many years before she knew for sure). Bad enough to make her miss a day, which Tsumugi never did.

Were they just fooling themselves acting okay again? Wasn't it too soon for that? The experiences of the past few days were the kind that some people take years to recover from. What if they were making things worse, like a football player wrecking his leg by playing through an injury?

...Nah.

People had different ways of healing. Curling up in a ball and staying home for a week was just one approach. Without this club, maybe some of them would've done that. (Definitely Mio.) But now they had a better way - something that gave them real peace in body and soul.

This was after-school tea time. This was how they rolled.

A sigh interrupted Ritsu's contemplation. She looked to see who it was... as if she didn't already know. Now that Yui was cured of the mopes, there was only one real candidate: Azusa.

Yui noticed too. "What's the matter, Azu-nyan? Did I not hug you enough yet?"

"No! No, that's not it."

"Aw."

Ritsu smiled at Azusa. "Still hung up on our screwups, huh?"

She sighed again. "I'm sorry, senior. Don't pay attention to me... I know it's not my place. I just can't help it."

Normally Ritsu would be happy to leave it at that, but under the circumstances, she decided to throw Azusa a bone. "You are allowed to speak your mind, y'know. I only object when you get all uppity about it."

"Really? Wait, how do I tell the difference?"

"Feel your face. If I haven't punched you in it, you're okay."

Azusa smiled at that, but just briefly. "Then... can I say the one thing that's really getting to me right now? You won't like it."

"Warning appreciated. Have at it."

She took a deep breath. "We need to return the prize."

Everyone was startled silent.

"I don't want to do it either! But how can we keep something we didn't win honestly? They gave it to us because they thought we were --"

Ritsu held up a hand. "Is that all? Hang on a sec."

Azusa watched, puzzled, as the drummer took out her phone and pushed some buttons.

"Here ya go," she finally said, handing over the phone. "I think you'll feel a lot better when you read this."

"Oh, the article. How's this going to --"

"Reeeeead."

She did.

CRAZY COSTUMES WIN BIG AT REGIONALS

Tokyo's biggest high school music competition, Regionals, has wrapped for another year. As usual, three prizes were awarded in each of the ten categories. Ryuumei Academy, a competitor in the pop/rock category, was not one of the winners - but they didn't go home empty-handed. Their performance earned them a special prize for outstanding effort.

"Most bands in this category just wear their school uniforms and play something popular," explained Mr. Ito, one of the judges. "That's fine, of course - the competition is about skill and technique. But Ryuumei came to us this year with a whole different kind of performance. They had no shot at placing for a number of reasons, but their creativity deserved to be recognized."

Ryuumei's opening number, "Don't Say Lazy," was an original composition by the two founding members of the club. The song is a cry against Japanese student culture and its harsh, sometimes unfair expectations. While asserting the need for downtime, it also makes the important point (or "Red Point") that an apparent slacker may actually be a good student. This is done subtly with lines that include material learned in school, such as English phrases and facts about animal behaviour.

The song, however, was just the first layer. Said Mr. Ito, "Ryuumei's overall theme was the frustration of adolescence. The music spoke directly to this, but they also used visual aids. They chose costumes based on Alice in Wonderland, the story of a girl thrust unexpectedly into a world she doesn't understand and isn't ready for. What could be a better metaphor for puberty?"

But there was still a third layer to the act. "The part that impressed us most," said Mr. Ito, "was something we found confusing at first. All five Ryuumei students seemed to be disadvantaged in some way. One was in a wheelchair, another had dark glasses and a cane, and so on. This made no sense - Regionals makes a point of accomodating disabled students, but Ryuumei hadn't registered any, much less a whole band full.

"It took us a while to see what they were getting at. They were representing themselves as people on the margins of society - those who are casually judged and sold short. Most teenagers feel that way as well, but to an adult, who has long since lived through those frustrations, they often seem like mere foolishness. By taking on the appearance of those whose problems we cannot ignore, Ryuumei reminded us how we all felt in our high school days."

"We just wish they had been able to finish their set," said Mr. Ito, referring to the lead singer's collapse after the first song ended. "Who knows what other surprises were in store?"

The Ryuumei Academy light music club consists of five members. Their president and drummer, Ritsu 'R.T.' Tainaka, is also head of the student council and holds several interscholastic track and field records. "Music is my first love," the wheelchair-bound R.T. told us, "but I'm pretty much the best at everything. I'd show you my long jump but, y'know, legs." (Note: To get in character for their performance, all the Ryuumei members spoke to us as if their "conditions" were real.)

The club's bassist, lead singer, and songwriter is Mio Akiyama, who wore glasses on stage to feign nearsightedness. She describes herself as "Normal. I'm normal. I mean... I guess I like... no. Just normal." Ms. Akiyama was reluctant to discuss her collapse, but according to R.T., it was the result of an unexpected convergence of low blood sugar, post-traumatic stress disorder, hypertension, "excessive chestage", and light converging inside her brain due to the glasses.

Third in seniority is Tsumugi Kotobuki, the club's keyboard player, who is "maybe" related to the wealthy Kotobuki family. She had clearly gained a large amount of weight for the performance, but claimed to have no regrets. "My part of the show was a labour of love. Do you like that expression? I found it in Shakespeare. He understood love so well..." (Ms. Kotobuki appears to have been referring to the play Love's Labour's Lost, in which the romantic subplots end indecisively.)

The last of the club's original four members is guitarist Yui Hirasawa, whose "disability" was blindness. "It's okay, I don't want to see stuff," she told us. "None of it matters. All I care about now is [my sister] Ui and [my boyfriend] Giita. Everybody else can go jump off a roof and try to fly. Especially boys. Are there any boys here I can punch? I can't tell unless they talk." The cause of Ms. Hirasawa's distress was unclear, and R.T.'s diagnosis of "dude cancer" did little to clarify matters.

A recent addition to the band is rhythm guitarist Azusa Nakano. Her disguise as a foreigner was made possible by her photosensitivity, a rare condition that makes her extremely susceptible to sunburns. Ms. Nakano assured us that being "true to herself" somehow made the condition less painful.

There is some mystery surrounding the band's possible sixth member. A backup bassist, Jun Suzuki, was present for interviews and even had a distinct "condition" like the others, but did not appear on stage. R.T.'s only comment later on was "Optical illusion. All in your minds." According to Mr. Ito, the judges had a different interpretation. "It was a brilliant concept - a little extra puzzle for those in the know to figure out. You see, only the senior students were playing Alice; the junior student, who isn't as deep into those awkward adolescent years, played the White Rabbit. But rather than make her the sole exception, they registered a nonexistent extra junior student - to play the invisible Cheshire Cat!"

The club's advisor, known only as "Sawa-chan", was not available for interviews. An orphan, Sawa-chan grew up on the streets of Tokyo, doing odd jobs for the Death Devil gang in return for shelter. The fighting skills she gained got her a job as a yakuza enforcer, which allowed her to pay her way through fashion design school. Unfortunately, the world of high fashion is travel-heavy, and Sawa-chan is unable to leave Japan until various court orders expire. She bides her time at Ryuumei teaching music (the best job she could think of that did not involve learning to read) and using the school's bands for live costuming practice. Her gang connections remain useful for fending off male suitors and allegations of sexual harrassment.

What comes next for the Ryuumei light music club? They plan to continue their band, After-Tea School Time, through high school and beyond. They are already hard at work on their third album, "I Am A Pen", due to hit store shelves early next year. After graduation, they plan to go on an international tour; SentriFUJE has already agreed to open for them. We wish the band all the success their efforts merit.

Azusa put down her phone and forced her gaping mouth closed.

"See what I mean?" said Ritsu.

"Those reporters," said Azusa. "They got everything wrong."

"Yup. And more important, so did the judges. That prize wasn't for being disabled - it was for being artsy."

"But... that's not true either..."

"Isn't it? They knew we were faking and they liked it. Those deep meanings they found do exist, we just didn't put 'em there on purpose."

"And the important thing," said Mio, "is that Sawa-chan's plan didn't work. The judges didn't believe our gimmicks and feel sorry for us."

"Because they were lookin' at the wrong registration form," added Ritsu. She winked at Azusa. "You can thank me for forgettin' our real one any time."

Azusa jumped up. "So you admit it now!"

"Yep. And I'm sorry. Won't happen again."

The sincerity in Ritsu's face mollified Azusa. She sat back down.

"Feel any better?" Yui asked her.

Azusa smiled. "Yeah." In fact, she had already been feeling better since the talk with Jun, and even more so after getting some tea in her system. Now, with the real reason for their prize revealed, she honestly felt... okay.

Her illusions had been shattered, but it wasn't the first time, and she doubted it would be the last. This was still her club; these were her friends. Azusa was ready to fight for them again. She wouldn't let either their laziness or her own frustration keep After-School Tea Time from being all it could be.

"It's wonderful to have an article about us," said Tsumugi (Mio having taken the opportunity to show it to her), "but was I the only one expecting something longer? Why did they do all those interviews and then give us only a paragraph each?"

Ritsu shrugged. "That's show biz. They probably didn't have much space."

"They're crazy," said Yui. "So are the judges. Do you think they caught it from each other?"

"Hey, the judges are fine. They're so smart they can tell we're smart and don't know it!"

"...Huh?"

"Kidding. They're not crazy, though. They just have a super easy job."

"Judging, you mean?"

"Yeah. What could possibly beat tellin' other people they suck for a living? That's definitely the job I want if we don't make the big time."

"Oh, we don't need to worry about that," said Azusa, half-smiling. "After all, we're already on our third album."

Ritsu said, "I have no idea where they heard that from."

"Maybe they are crazy," said Tsumugi. "Just look at the strange ideas they had about Ms. Sawako!"

There were a number of looks exchanged.

"Yes," said Mio. "That was pure invention."

"Total nonsense pulled out of nowhere," Ritsu agreed.

"I will personally gut you in alphabetical order," added Sawako.

"Ha!" said Yui. "That's just what Sawa-chan sounds like. Who was that?"

No one answered. They were all staring at -

"SAWA-CHAN!"

"You're here!" said Tsumugi.

"You didn't jump out a window!" said Azusa, who had genuinely worried.

"Again with the ninja act!" said Ritsu. "What are you, allergic to showin' up like a normal perOWWWWW! Leggo!"

Sawako released Ritsu's ear. "I dress you all up for Regionals, and this is the thanks I get? You slander me in the media?"

"Well, we were mad! And they didn't get your full name! Nobody lookin' you up will ever find it!"

"I will get you all back for this. Not right away. Maybe not for years. I'll wait patiently till the day you've completely forgotten, and on that day... POW."

The club members cowered before her. But then, one by one, they noticed something. Sawako was ripping into them, sure, but not quite like she ever had before. The difference was in her face.

She was grinning.

"Sawa-chan!" shouted Yui. "You're not fired!"

"Nope."

As one, the girls tackled her to the ground in a group hug. "Woo-hoo!" "Go Sawa-chan!" "Three cheers!"

"And the club?" Mio asked.

"Still in business!" said Sawako.

They hugged with renewed enthusiasm. In fact - "Uh, everyone? This is a bit too... too much... en..."

A few seconds passed before Ritsu said, "Anyone feel her breathing? 'Cause I don't."

The club hastily backed off. Sawako gasped. She had already turned slightly purple.

"Sorry, Sawa-chan," said Mio. "We didn't mean to celebrate by killing you."

"T-tea," was all the teacher could get out.

The club members and Sawako spent the next two hours relaxing, chatting, and enjoying their tea and treats. At long last, there was nothing hanging over their heads. They'd reached the light at the end of the tunnel.

Eventually Tsumugi and Azusa said their goodbyes and headed home. Sawako was next to go. "I need to get some sleep," she said ruefully. "Back to work soon."

"Weren't you desperate to keep this job?" Mio reminded her.

"Pfft." She got up. "That doesn't mean I have to like every part of it. If teachers ever get flex-time, I'm first in line."

"So long, Sawa-chan," said Ritsu. "Good to have ya back."

She smiled. "Good to be back."

"Just remember - no more boyfriends. In fact, no dating at all. From now on you're a nun."

"Hey!"

Mio swatted Ritsu, who said, "Kiddin'. Of course you can date. But date smarter." She winked. "Don't get fooled again."

The teacher rolled her eyes. I'll date smarter all right, she thought on the way out. The next guy isn't coming anywhere NEAR this school.

With Sawako gone, Mio's eyes fell on Yui. Speaking of people who need to date smarter... "How are you holding up?" she asked.

"Me?" said Yui. "Great! But I'd better go too. Ui is probably getting worried."

"Yes, but I mean --"

"I can't wait to get home!" Yui continued, putting her coat on. "I bet Ui made something super delicious for dinner! Then I'll play Gitah for a while and have dessert and play Gitah some more and go to sleep!"

Ritsu laughed. "Simple pleasures for simple minds. We should never've been worried. What would you even do with a boyfriend?"

Yui paused. A slight, crooked smile appeared on her face.

"Hmm," she said.

"What?"

"We would've... had fun, Ricchan."

Both girls just stared at Yui as she said goodbye and left. As soon as she was through the door, Ritsu spun on Mio. "Did you hear that? 'Cause I didn't."

"Uh..."

"Not. A. Thing. Yui did not say what she just said. I dunno which one of us will be the first to grow a libido, but it's NOT her."

"Right. I agree."

"Good. Let's drink tea till we can't see stuff."

They hung out for a while longer, taking it easy. Neither of them was in any great hurry to get home. On the contrary, this restoration of normality was so satisfying they wanted it to last as long as possible.

Still... "Eventually we'll have to talk about our fight yesterday," Mio said.

"Will we? I'm cool with letting it drop."

"We said things we can't take back."

"I took mine back already. Didn't you get the memo I sent out? Here, I'll send it again." Ritsu pretended to type on her phone. "Everything... taken... back... forever. Done."

Mio had to smile. She sat back in her chair, as did Ritsu, and the two of them took a good long look at each other.

Someday, thought Mio... someday I'll turn you around.

I wasn't wrong; you do drag me down to your level. But that's a two-way street. I'll lift you up. I'll MAKE you the friend I deserve - the person you deserve to be.

You can grow up. Me too. We'll do it together.

And as Ritsu looked back at her friend, she thought, One of these days I'll get you to loosen up. I mean, who can actually be comfortable with a whole tree up her butt?

"C'mon," said the drummer. "Let's go home."

Four Months Later

The term was over. Aside from a little incident with Yui catching cold and then forgetting her guitar right before the concert, the light music club had made it through successfully. Tests were over. Most of the students were now home, taking a break and resting up for next term. Teachers, too, had little to do; the school was almost empty.

But not far away, at a bar - a different one from last time - three Sakuragaoka teachers had assembled.

"When will we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, or in rain?" asked Sawako.

Kawasumi rolled her eyes. "You can be a witch if you want, but count me out."

"Sorry. But it's true, isn't it? Who knows when we'll all be together again."

"It's going to be strange without you, Chika," said Yamasu. "You've been here even longer than I have."

Kawasumi nodded. It was going to be strange for her too - even though these two had only been nodding acquaintances of hers until quite recently. "I may end up coming back. This is just something I have to do."

"What's the plan exactly?"

"I'm going back to my home town. It's just a start, but there were things I left unfinished there. There are... classmates I need to see again."

"Classmates?" asked Sawako.

"Friends," Kawasumi admitted. "Who deserved better from me than I gave them."

"Well, best of luck. I'll keep your classroom warm for you."

Kawasumi raised an eyebrow. "You're taking over my homeroom?"

"Yep! It'll be my first time having one. The principal said there was a position open, and I decided to apply for it. I felt like it was time to take the next step in my career."

She smiled knowingly. "You felt like it was time to get paid more."

"Oh, is there a raise involved? News to me." All three women chuckled.

"So you see this as a career?" asked Yamasu. "Not out to marry money anymore?"

"Please. The career is to keep me busy until I marry money. Preferably real money this time."

Both teachers nodded, getting the reference. "What ever happened to that guy, anyway?" Kawasumi asked.

"Dead."

They stared.

"What? I told you I wanted to kill him. Tracked him down, kept him in a warehouse for a few days of quality time, then hit him with a shovel and left him out in the woods. It's bear season. He won't be back."

There was silence.

"...is what I'd like to say," concluded Sawako. "Come on, you didn't believe me, did you?"

Both teachers let out a breath. "We had to wonder," said Yamasu. "You were very detailed."

"I did picture it a lot. No, I just ignored the bastard until he stopped calling. Maybe he found some other girl. Maybe not. Maybe he really did die. Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn."

Yamasu clinked her glass against Sawako's. "I'm happy for you. And if you can actually take satisfaction from this godawful job, I'm happy for that too."

Sawako shook her head. "I will never get you."

"Huh?"

"How can someone who hates the job so much be so good at it?"

Yamasu slammed her glass down. "Take that back!"

"She's right, you know," said Kawasumi. "I've been wondering too."

"No you haven't! There's nothing to wonder about!"

"Oh no?" said Sawako. "I think Jun Suzuki would disagree. You could have just ignored her when she was doing that spy thing, but not only did you let her bother you on a daily basis, you stepped in personally when she took it too far."

"But --"

"And that jazz club. You've had nothing but bad things to say about them - to us. But Jun says you never take it out on them. And didn't you eventually train them well enough to compete?"

"The principal made me! And they only came in third!"

"Out of ten. They didn't just walk into that."

Kawasumi added, "I'm in the office sometimes when you talk to students. You should hear yourself - you're good at it. You never have to be reminded what their troubles are, and you give them good advice."

"I - I drink!" Yamasu protested. "I drink like a chimney!"

Sawako shrugged. "Nobody said you were perfect."

"Dammit! Look... I used to want this job. But that was before I experienced it! Teaching is just something I settle for now. It's not my destiny or something!"

Kawasumi smiled. "Funny thing about destiny... you don't get to choose it."

"Why does this bother you so much?" asked Sawako. "You might as well be good at your job, right?"

"No! No! I want to be good at teaching real musicians!"

"Maybe you are. This is what real musicians sound like in high school."

"It's not what I sounded like!"

Sawako raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"What?"

"Look, most people don't know this, but I used to be in a heavy metal ba--"

"We know," said Kawasumi. "When you got drunk that time, you recited half the lyrics from your first album to show us you still knew them."

"We believed you," added Yamasu. "God, my head hurts just thinking about it."

Sawako glared at them both. "Well, keep it to yourselves. Anyway, we really got into the whole bit. We were Death Devil, I was Catherine... you should've seen my hair. And we were the hardest-rocking metal band Tokyo had ever seen! We were an unstoppable noise machine! We were gods!"

"You told us that too."

"Uh huh. And then a while later I went back and listened to some of our music again."

"...And?"

"I was too embarrassed to get through it all. We were awful." She sighed. "Back when I was in the middle of it, my ears couldn't tell the difference between us and Metallica. We were having so much fun we had to be the best. But I know the truth now. At a few years' distance, everything is... smaller than I remembered."

Kawasumi nodded. It was the same reason she was going home. All those years ago, her shame and disappointment had been like forces of nature, overwhelming her whole life. But now, although she still felt them... they were just feelings. She didn't have to let them control her anymore.

She hoped and prayed - as did Sawako - that Tsumugi would feel the same way in time.

"Do you still have any recordings from when you were in high school?" Sawako asked Yamasu.

"...We made a tape once," she admitted.

"I bet you haven't listened to it in a while. You should. I guarantee it won't sound like you remember."

"Ugh. If you're right, that's just going to depress me." She took a swig of beer.

"Yep. So here's what to do afterwards. Are you still in touch with your old bandmates?"

"Some of them."

"Look 'em up. My friends from Death Devil have gone different ways in life. Some of them don't play anymore. But the ones who do... when they play clubs, I always try to make it."

Yamasu looked skeptical. "They're good?"

"They rock. And not in spite of Death Devil, because of it! I can hear our sound in there every time. It's just grown to maturity. I bet you'll find the same thing."

"Well..."

"Sawako's right," said Kawasumi. "High school is high school. You're never going to come in and find a class full of Thelonius Minks."

"Monks."

"Whatever. But if you really do want to help kids discover their love of music, you're in the right place. And you're good at it, like it or not."

Yamasu stared into her glass.

"Embraaaaaace your destinyyyy," said Sawako. "Embraaaaace it. Woooooooo..."

"Oh, fine! I'll think about it." Yamasu closed her eyes, rolled them, and -

Kawasumi said, "You know we can all tell when you're doing that, right?"

"WHAT?"

The school was almost empty. But one or two clubs had come to squeeze in one last practice.

In theory.

"I'm not wearing it!" said Mio, hiding under the table.

"Aw, c'mon. Are you gonna let Sawa-chan's hard work go to waste?"

"She didn't make that thing!"

Ritsu shrugged. "Yeah, okay, it was a discount Hallowe'en costume. But it did cost me five bucks."

"This is what you borrowed the five bucks for?" Mio clawed out at Ritsu.

"I think you'll look great in it!" said Tsumugi.

"Pirates are fun!" Yui agreed. "Arrr!"

"This is an adult pirate costume!" said Mio. "It's almost bikini-size! It actually says 'Booty Pirate' on the label!"

"So? There were girl pirates." Yui turned to Azusa. "There were girl pirates, right?"

"I'm not sure," said Azusa. "Maybe a few, but I wouldn't put money on --"

"That doesn't matter!" Mio interrupted. "Even if there were girl pirates, which there weren't, they didn't dress like this! No one with any self-respect would!"

"Unless it was about empowerment," Ritsu suggested. "It's like you're saying, 'I know I'm hot and you're still not gettin' any.' "

"Exactly! None of you are getting any! Of anything! EVER!"

Ritsu whispered to Tsumugi, "I'm not sure she knows what that means."

"What does it mean?" Tsumugi whispered back.

"Oh, you'll know when she's wearin' it."

With that, Tsumugi was fully on board. "Come on! Let's turn this table over!"

"Nooo!" Mio grabbed onto its legs, but couldn't stop her bandmates from upsetting the table (spilling everything on top, of course). She made a break for it, but Ritsu was too fast. Pinned down, she could only struggle uselessly as the other members started taking off her -

"Ahem."

Everyone looked up. The principal was in the doorway.

Ritsu shifted off Mio. The others released her. Everyone tried to look as casual as possible.

It wasn't working. The principal was still staring, stunned at the scenario he'd walked in on: four club members dogpiled on the fifth, pulling her clothes off.

Self-awareness suddenly swept over Mio. She looked down. She was already in her underwear... and the principal was still there... staring right at -

"AAAAAAAA!"

A moment later, Mio was standing over the unconscious principal, gasping for breath. The others stared in amazement. Ritsu snuck a picture with her phone, but no one dared to speak. It was Azusa who finally broke the silence.

"Well," she said, "I guess we're going to find out if that amnesia thing works."

THE END