Thursday, 5 November 2015

Chapter two (segment eleven), 2016, October, Yukio

He could smell the anticipation in the air, mixed with a bit of fear but also with a lot of joy.

With the school crammed with guests every attraction filled beyond expectations. Even the display room showcasing Himekaizen's history saw a decent turnout.

At the moment, however it was time for 6:1 to shine. Urufu's suggestion to set up West Side Story gave way to a modernised version of the original. Romeo and Juliet was simply a more recognisable title.

For most of the festival he was tied up with the club, especially as their responsibilities had expanded far beyond what was decent to ask of them, but with Urufu at the helm there was no end to the requests.

Yukio suspected Principal Nakagawa was involved somehow. Urufu could be as tight lipped as he wanted, but Yukio wasn't an idiot. An innocent comment there, a spoken oversight here and a determined glance when Urufu mistakenly believed no one saw him all added up to a single conclusion. Principal Nakagawa knew.

With a deep sigh Yukio rose from his chair backstage and offered a false smile to Hitomi-chan. She held one of the leads. She rather unsurprisingly held it given her undisputed position as class beauty.

During the months since she joined the club her side as a reliable friend shone through more and more, but like the other star in the freshman left wing, and to a certain degree Kuri as well, all too often she relied on her looks. Which was why he only offered her a false smile.

Kyoko would be in the audience, because he got shanghaied a week earlier to stand in for a small role in the play. The role originally assigned to Urufu until it was clear the workload would become impossible.

“Almost time for act one,” he said to no one in particular.

Behind him Kuri laughed together with one of the girls from the drama club. She offered her services with costumes, but he knew she really wanted to make a last ditch recruiting attempt. A couple of the go home club members participated in the play as well.

“Good luck!” Kuri said. She also volunteered for applying make-up and handling costumes, but in her case it made more sense as the fashion show came directly after the play.

At the moment he fingered his prop sword. How anyone had come up with the idea to mix swords with modern day clothes was beyond him.

“Good luck to you as well,” Yukio said and turned.

“Good luck to us, you mean. You're part of the club as well.”

Yukio shrugged and walked onto the stage. Through the curtains he heard the audience and it was barely light enough for him to see where he should be.

Why am I this irritated? The very concept of fun long gone he wondered what had made the festival a chore. Kyoko, I'm afraid how she'll react to the contest, he admitted to himself.

The curtains opened.

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