Chapter three (segment one), 2016, October, Ulf

I'm heading for a mental breakdown. Ulf glared at the festival committee room. Then he gave the student council room a glare as well for good measure. Bloody hell, I need them to get their act together.

He buttoned up his shirt and pulled his neck-tie all the way to his throat. Wearing his school uniform the casual way had become a habit, but he had a role to play today. One he hadn't planned for.

Wearing a blazer over the belted walkie talkie looked like crap, but he appreciated how it made him look more important as well. Looks were important in Japan, more so than in Sweden where no one gave their CEO a second thought when he arrived in chinos and an unbuttoned hiking shirt covering a T-shirt.

Sure, there were days when he wore one of his costumes as well. Chinos or costume, it mattered little to him, but right now he wanted the added authority a costume would have granted him.

Can't be helped. I'm a student here.

He belted his walkie talkie after a last confirmation and fished up his cell.

“Urufu here, how long until you're back with the canned drinks?”

He looked at his watch when he got the answer.

“Fine, dump it at the back gates. I need another four hundred cans after that.”

Crap, we really need trucks, but I'll make do with the cars we've scrounged up. He groaned. Poor sods. They're damned heroes keeping us supplied.

There were heroes and heroes. The next set of victims of his phone calls were on their way back with ramonade, a soft drink especially popular during events like these, and always sold in small glass bottles. The weight was a killer.

Time to beef up the trash patrols as well, and I need sanitary basics as well, or we'll never make it through tomorrow. He didn't want to fund toilet paper and soap.

In the end he called the old goat and forced a promise to have a full weeks worth of supplies delivered late that evening. After that he sent Noriko a mail with the estimated costs in case the school wanted the festival to pay.

When he finally called the ramonade patrol he had them shop for a mountain of trash compactors as well.

And Christina thinks I'm sexy like this? Just proves she has poor taste in men. But he admitted how her comment built a warm knot in his stomach. All your fault Yukio, or Kyoko. But for that roof top adventure of yours she'd never talk about sexy this way.

He shook his head. No time for thoughts like those, especially not with Amaya slamming down an unheard of curfew over his head. What the hell? I'm not a bloody kid!

He'd obey, even if it stole even more precious hours from him and Christina. Don't understand what you're thinking Amaya. We're starved for time together as it is already.

Even the old goat nagged about how he should go home and get a night's full sleep. That met with a flat refusal. Their second day would go up in flames unless he kept the human machine he built running during the coming evening.

When he arrived at the plaza the alluring smell of grilled meat played with his nose and he realised how hungry he was. For a moment he nursed the idea of forcing his way to the barbecue stalls, but the plaza was crammed and he didn't have the time to stand in queue.

Haven't had as much as a bite since morning. I'll fall apart like this. Reluctantly he unclipped his radio. Pulling rank wasn't his idea of good leadership, but there was no other way.

“Jirou?”

“Jirou here.”

“Ulf here. I'm swamped. Think you could arrange some food for me? Over.”

“No problem Uru… Hamarugen-san. You should have asked earlier. Over.”

“I'm really grateful. I'll be at the front gates. Over and out.”

While he walked between the stalls on the main school yard he looked at his radio. The voice behind the polite words had been genuine. Guess I did pretty well today after all. You guys really made it easy. I owe you all big time.

Students in several stalls greeted him, and some even shouted encouraging words after him. It warmed his heart and he reached the gates with rising feelings.

Ryu waited for him with a plastic bag and a bottle with Ulf's favourite sports drink in one hand. By his side the council president rolled uncomfortably on her feet. Ulf could have sworn she waited for someone else, which was strange considering the company she already had.

“Ryu, why aren't you at the plaza?”

He waved to the president who hardly took any notice of the school prince leaving her side. “Because someone ordered food,” Ryu said and handed over bag and bottle.

“Thought Jirou took care of that.” Ulf looked down, lured by the smell from the bag, and looked inside. “Whoa! Looks fantastic!” His stomach announced for anyone close what it thought about him talking about food instead of eating it.

He dug up a piece of barbecued paradise and took a bite. With gravy all over his chin he looked at Ryu and the ever present crowd behind him.

“Yeah,” Ryu said after Ulf downed his second huge mouthful. “Jirou-sempai almost handed the bag off to the closest girl who offered to carry it here.”

“So?”

“I said the closest of them, moron.”

“Don't get it.” Ulf really didn't. First one with some free time on her hands should have been just perfect.

Ryu stared at him. “You really don't understand girls, do you?”

Ulf shrugged. Girls weren't his strong side. He knew that. Even Maria dumped an acid comment or two into his face from time to time on that topic, and they had spent over two decades together.

“Sheesh. You're the king of the day. You know that much at least?” A few faces turned their way when Ryu's voice rose.

Ulf nodded. He wasn't stupid. Without him the festival would be in shambles by now.

“That makes you the idiot king of the day. We don't need the girls fighting.” Ryu grinned and waved at the council president. “You won't believe me until I show you.”

“Afternoon President,” Ulf greeted the girl with the student council armband. She shot Ryu a questioning glance and bowed. Ulf returned her formal greeting.

“Council President,” Ryu said and gave Ulf an exaggerated gesture of introduction, “the brilliant mind at my side thought it a good idea to have a random representative of his new-found female fan club serve him food here by the gates.”

That rendered Ulf a glare from the president. What did I do wrong this time?

“Unwise. Besides, aren't you going out with that model?” she said.

He frowned. That model? Christina's turned the festival into a circus so there's no way in hell you don't know who she is. Maybe you just don't like her. Better not rub it in. Ulf nodded affirmation to buy some time. He still didn't understand what Ryu tried to tell him.

The president looked at him as if trying to guess what he thought. “Don't get yourself a reputation as a two timer. I need your leadership tomorrow as well, so don't fool around with the girls.”

She waved at them both and took up her position by the gates again. This time Ulf clearly saw how she looked down the street after someone.

“Still don't get it,” he said. “Why would I cheat on Christina?”

Ryu rolled his eyes. “Dad said some people never learn. Until now I didn't believe him,” he said and sighed.

Midsummer's day, the short, short night

Most of her friends showed signs of weariness, and quite a few already slept.

Rhythmic beats of music told her that was far from the case with the youngsters.

For her own part Christina didn't feel tired at all. She never did this time of the year, and especially not in Sweden with its minuscule night. Three hours of relative darkness, maybe four depending on how your defined darkness.

Summer nights were longer in Japan. Shorter during winter though, she mused.

She turned her head and looked at how Ulf and Yukio drunkenly chatted away in the darkness. From time to time a reddish light lit up Yukio's features. Smoking is bad for you, didn't Ulf teach you that? Well, it couldn't be helped. He wasn't Yukio's father or anything.

Staying up too late is also bad for your health. She let her gaze linger on Ulf. He aged well, still looked much the same as during his high school days. Staying up too late, huh. I still don't understand how you kept your sanity during our first festival.

Chapter two (segment thirteen), 2016, October, Kyoko

She flinched when a storm of applause and shouts broke over the music. And I'm not even on stage. Gods this is scary!

It was her turn, and she almost fell over when she climbed the stage and made for the catwalk section. Spotlights blinded her and for a moment she stood frozen.

“Take my hand.”

Yukio had arrived from the other side and she felt his fingers around hers. That calmed her down somewhat, and with his hand in hers Kyoko finally dared the catwalk.

The shouts grew even louder and from the rows of chairs closest to them she heard one racy suggestion after another.

“Don't bother,” Yukio said. “You're all mine. They're just jealous,” he added and screwed a forced smile onto his face.

You really don't like when others look at me that way? It made her strangely happy. “You're one to talk,” she said. “Half of those comments are yours.” She gripped his hand harder, but when they came to the end of the catwalk she had to let go.

A few seconds followed before they agreed on how to walk back. She heard a few laughs, most of them friendly but at least one in the crowd shouted his displeasure.

Almost all the way back they met Urufu. He shook his head but Kyoko understood he only rued his own participation. He wore a costume just the way all the boys here wore their school uniforms. It was as if he didn't register how stunning he looked.

“You did just great out there,” he said when they were within earshot. That comment warmed her. “Just watch what it means to make an arse out of oneself,” he said and gave them an ironic salute before they passed each other.

Behind her the shouts increased to a deafening roar. That's them thanking you for your hard work today. You deserve it.

Kyoko quickly walked behind the curtains and stole a look. From the other side she saw Yukio doing the same. He gave her a thumbs up before turning his attention to Urufu's backside.

She followed that stare and watched Urufu pretend to play with an invisible soccer ball all the way to the end of the catwalk. Before he turned he picked it up and smashed it into the audience volley ball style. I bet that's Kuri-chan's instructions. Only Ryu would have the guts to do something like that without being told.

When Urufu returned Ryu and Hitomi-chan took the stage.

The entire gym hall exploded in shouts drowning the music. Kyoko had to slap her hands to her ears. So that's what true popularity sounds like? I wonder what happens next.

There was a difference. Both Ryu and Hitomi-chan walked with the grace of people used to being looked at. A packed gym hall only made them shine even more.

I wonder what happens next.

Kuri-chan and Nao-sempai last. They planned the show that way. After everyone were done the two professional models would hit the catwalk every second display. Both Kuri-chan and Nao-sempai promised they could change a full set of clothes in under thirty seconds, and two make-up crews, one on each side of the stage, stood ready to do black magic during those seconds.

Ryu and Hitomi-chan returned to the sound of a thunderous chant. Both were visibly shaken. Used to being looked at was one thing, but none of them had experienced anything like this before.

And now for the pros.

The lights changed, as did the music.

Kuri-chan came up behind her. Kyoko stared into blue eyes filled with youthful joy bordering on glee and a face split in a happy grin showing off two rows of perfect white teeth. She came fully battle dressed and the radiant happiness almost felt out of place.

“Twenty years, it's been over twenty years now,” Kuri-chan said and grabbed Kyoko's shoulder. “Wish me luck!”

With a last grip on Kyoko's hands she entered the limelight. Her face immediately changed into an ethereal beauty, and from the other side of the scene Nao-sempai's face went through a similar transformation.

Kyoko slapped her hand to her ears in anticipation of the roar and stared at the two models as they started walking down the catwalk, or danced. They walked, ran, stood still and waited for each other. Sometimes they switched places with each other, almost but never touching.

Impossible! I never saw them train anything like this.

Apart from the music Kyoko couldn't hear a sound, and slowly the sound technician lowered the volume until Kyoko could hear the breathing from the audience. Not a single shout, nothing.

At the end of the catwalk Kuri-chan did something with her feet that snapped her entire body into a statue-like fixture. She did that at Shibuya as well. How can you move like that?

On their way back Nao-sempai slapped Kuri-chan's hands and they quickly fell out of pose as they half-ran the last bit.

Kyoko quickly ducked behind the curtain to avoid being seen.

“That was fun,” Kuri-chan whispered when she came around the corner. She grabbed Midori-chan on her way out onto the stage. “Wait! You don't want to go out right now.”

What? Why?

A sudden wall of sound slammed into Kyoko and forced her to stagger backwards. She sat down on her knees overwhelmed by the onrush.

On the other side of the stage Kyoko saw how Nao-sempai held back Nori-kun the same way as Kuri-chan had done. Then he let go and vanished from sight.

The loudspeakers on both sides of the stage rumbled in protest when the sound technician turned up the volume in an attempt to drown the audience.

It worked to a degree, but Kyoko wondered if anyone even noticed Midori-chan and Nori-kun when they made their run on the catwalk. When they returned both faces paled and Kyoko had to help Midori-chan stagger off stage while Kuri-chan and Nao-sempai went up again.

Noriko was next together with Urufu, the pros next and after them a third year paired with one of the third year boys. Then she had to go up with Yukio again after Kuri-chan and Nao-sempai returned from their fourth run.

Thirty seconds of madness, another thirty with models made invisible and then madness again. Three and a half thousand guests. Half of them present only for this.

Just as Kyoko was about to enter the stage again realisation hit her. Tomorrow's open house. We're screwed!

Chapter two (segment twelve), 2016, October, Christina

She watched the play from behind. They were better than she expected, the students from 6:1.

I'd have liked to be part of them, but then 6:1 wouldn't be 6:1.

Lights and sounds close to perfect. Having professionals handling it helped, and Uniclo were adamant when it came to who ran the all important lights. In the end she caved in and let them use highly skilled technicians for the sound as well.

I'd prefer being in 6:1. That thought still haunted her. Due to Ryu and her 3:1 had become a popularity circus. The Watabe twins didn't help and nor did Noriko's close to perfect test scores. But that wasn't the real reason, was it? I want to spend more time with Ulf.

They waved once and hugged once, but that was it for the festival thus far.

Over the radio she heard him running the festival in a way that would have had her consider kidnapping during her years as the billion dollar empress. Superb organisers were hard to come by, but until now she believed the rumoured genius to be a fairy tale.

Until now. Listening to how critical problems dissolved and noting how lesser critical ones climbed a self escalating ladder of importance filled her with an almost sexual desire. She accepted that part of herself. How watching almost inhuman competence turned her on.

“Kuri-chan!”

Christina winced and swivelled on her chair. Crap, she saw my face! “Yes, Hitomi-chan?” That girl was way too preceptive, and a beauty in her own right. She had seen, and Christina was certain she recognised what she saw.

“Missing Urufu-kun much?”

Christina felt her cheeks heating up. No way she could play innocent any more. “Yeah, I do. What of it?” She was surprised how hoarse her voice came out.

Over the radio another terse conversation played out, and another minor disaster vanished.

“Nothing. I envy you,” came Hitomi-chan's frank answer. “Had you chosen Ryu-kun I'd make him mine.”

You wouldn't, but I can't tell you the reason why. “You like him?” Facing a rival made it easier for her to dial down her racing emotions.

“No,” Hitomi-chan answered and climbed into her dress for the last act. “He'd look good by my side, that's all.”

One aspect of Japan Christina couldn't come to terms with. When the kids here grew beyond their years they acted like adult in ways that scared her. “Would you really settle for a trophy that way?”

“Yes, why not?” came the surprisingly calm answer. “But you got him first. I guess I ought to congratulate you,” she said and climbed the stage.

She really doesn't understand how much I love him? A trophy? It was a sobering thought. If most who knew they were a couple saw him as her trophy boyfriend more rivals were bound to line up after the festival. I don't want that. He's mine! Her possessiveness frightened her a bit. Too much like how she used up people and discarded them during the years when she built her empire.

“No, I didn't get him first. I just fell in love with him first,” Christina whispered to the stage. Pangs of loneliness gripped her, and fear. Am I losing him? Sato-sensei is our handle from today onwards, and she wants us to break up. Lieutenant Colonel Sato. A formidable adversary. I'll fight you all the way. If I lose him at least allow me to make it my own fault you bitch!

More students entered the stage around her. A few of them threw her questioning glances.

I need to get my act together. She rose and started handing out the remaining props and clothes she prepared earlier.

The play would conclude without her help from now on and she turned her attention to the last preparations for the fashion show.

From the back doors her models started arriving. Ryu merrily chatting with Nao-sempai, the second beauty from the left wing clinging to them like a stamp to an envelope and a stunningly good looking Midori-chan. Make-up artists had worked miracles with her hair.

Everyone on the beauty contest short list were pressed into participation, including a shocked Kyoko and a swearing Ulf. And Yukio as well, even though he didn't know it yet. Noriko knew of her own participation though, but to Christina's surprise she didn't protest at all.

Even the Watabe twins grinningly accepted together with a couple of girls from the softball team. Those four were central for the display of sports clothes. Ryu would wear some as well, and Ulf had the build for it, but he moved like a gorilla whenever she forced him to wear sports casuals, so she gave up on that idea.

Strangely enough he walked with an aura of self confidence in those awful outdoors clothes of his, but he only frowned when she showed him Uniclo's line in that section.

Christina had her own plans for him. Costumes and sports jackets. No one else, not even Nao-sempai could compare when it came to dressing up and still behave like someone in jeans and T-shirt.

Because those were your jeans and T-shirts for half your life. I want to see you in a high quality costume when you're thirty. Damn, you'll probably look like a Greek god! And that thought had her all flustered again. I guess... She blushed even more. I guess… That seed of a thought both scared her and filled her with joy. I guess I want to marry you.

Helplessly in love. Not as a teenage girl but an adult with a good grasp of what forever meant. I'd share my life with you. I'd age with you. I'd love you forever.

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.

Chapter two (segment ten), 2016, October, Ryu

Ryu elbowed his way through the corridor. The school was crammed with people, and tomorrow should be worse, Sunday and open house and all.

He guessed none of the students would need to pay very much for the anticipated second year field trip late February. The festival would generate a huge surplus.

There was an errand for him. One Yukio had assigned him to. Ryu navigated his way between the shoe lockers until he finally made it to the student council bulletin-board.

I'm sorry Yukio. Not a joke. It didn't matter all that much. Kuri would win the beauty contest hands down, so Kyoko didn't have to worry all that much. He smiled and laughed. Wonder what she'll look like on the catwalk though.

The boys' contest was a more open affair though. Himself or Nao-sempai. A couple of weeks earlier Ryu wouldn't have given Nao-sempai much of a chance, but with Urufu all over the place enough first year votes were bound to move in his direction to make the competition interesting.

Now it all hinged on the third years, which was only fair. Sure, they had two contenders of their own, and before the cultural exchange club came into existence and changed all the rules, one of them ought to have won.

Now they didn't stand a chance. It didn't help them that the club had saved the day when the entire festival fell into disarray, and all because Urufu suddenly displayed almost godlike powers.

Damn, I'll never catch up to that guy! Not bloody fair! Ryu swallowed his resentment. Calm down. He's over fifty. He's done this shit for a living the last twenty years now.

Which was true. And that truth wasn't enough. Ryu knew only one person on the planet he'd have trusted to run the show by wire like this, and that was his father. Grimly he admitted his father would likely have come running to Urufu for advice. There was a difference between superb and godlike after all.

He can't play ball, he's just hiding what a crappy athlete he really is behind that absurd stamina of his. He's stupidly insensitive with the girls, his Japanese sucks and he doesn't know how things are run here. And yet. And yet.

He made people around him shine with glory, which usually made himself invisible, but given the current bedlam Urufu wasn't given that opportunity and had to take command in person. Ryu could understand that, and he could forgive Urufu that. What he couldn't forgive was how Urufu had hidden his true ability for half a year.

Dammit, I don't mind you being superior, but don't bloody lie about it to my face you shit head!

“Besides, what's so damn good about Urufu anyway,” he murmured. That was unfair, but he didn't care.

With a grimace the picked up his cell and mailed Yukio. Preparing Kyoko to take the stage was her boyfriends job after all. Ryu didn't envy him in the least.

After that he elbowed his way through the cafeteria turned restaurant, the shaded area outside under the great sails and sauntered towards the gym. On his way there he made an effort to flirt a little with the middle school girls he met. That earned him flustered giggles from the girls and scowls from their parents.

All in all the short walk from the cafeteria did wonders to his mood, and when he entered the gym he truly felt like the prince of Himekaizen again.

Inside the hall filled up with parents and siblings. He guessed the relatives of those in 6:1 were present in force. The play should start shortly, and after that the fashion show.

He unclipped his radio and pushed the button. “Urufu?”

“Urufu here,” the answer squelched. Reception was less than optimal inside the gym.

“Ryu here. How's staffing at the plaza? 6:1 have a play on stage soon and then it's time for us. Over.”

“Thanks for the heads up. I'll send some extras from 9:1. Jirou can take it from there. Over.

You really never bother with the honorifics. “OK, guess you have it covered then. Over and out.

A few adults looked at him. He guessed they weren't used to the sound of a walkie talkie. He looked back at them while his radio relayed the conversation between a security patrol and Noriko for everyone to hear.

“Kiddo, you in the student council?” The man who asked the question looked like he could have been one of the parents, but something in how he moved was off.

“Sorry, no. I'm just helping out,” Ryu answered.

“Damn, I need someone in charge for the show.”

So he's working here. Uniclo or television I guess. “I can help you with that. It's our club doing the show.”

“You can? Great. We need space for the mixer table and some place from where we can control the spots.”

That needed a translation. “Technicians and equipment, and you need a place for them?”

The man nodded affirmation.

“Would two by two metres do?” There was a trick to keep the flow going. Urufu once taught him that during the field trip in August. By asking the question he bought himself some time to think while handing off the responsibility to act.

It worked perfectly. The man made a call and when he was done Ryu felt prepared to handle whatever was coming his way.

“Better make that two by three.”

Ryu had already picked up his own cell when the question came. “Hang on,” he said and dialled Kuri. She answered almost 

immediately.

“Hi, I need three guys, the male version with muscles, to carry some stuff for ten minutes or so.”

Ryu nodded at the man who waited for the call to finish.

“Where?” he asked.

Ryu pointed him to a set of chairs in the very middle of the gym hall. “We'll have the area cleared and you can set up your equipment there. Would that work for you?”

“Perfectly,” the man answered and grinned. “Can I use the muscle you send over here?”

“Ten minutes, no more,” Ryu said. “They're models for the show as well, and I guess you want them prepared.”

“Good boy. Ten minutes. I got it. By the way, are you part of the show as well?”

Ryu nodded, and that was enough to raise a few admiring eyebrows around him followed by the giggles he was used to.

Look like it could be fun after all, he thought. He waved to the man and went for the stage. Kuri was waiting for him.

Chapter two (segment nine), 2016, October, Noriko

“I don't care if you'll have problems later. Nakagawa promised he'd cover your back and now you'd better man up!”

“Why do you always trust the old goat?” Urufu was visibly sulking.

Noriko didn't care. She didn't even long for him any longer and that reduced him to a useful tool. The most important tool on two legs on the school grounds. “Shut up and make it work! If you want me in your fan club you'd damn better deserve it.”

The student council treasurer sat across the desks and watched them with stunned incomprehension.

“You certain you can't provide the funding?” Urufu asked him again. Another poor attempt at crawling out of the trap Noriko just sprung on him.

The treasurer finally found air enough to speak. “Three million yen? Are you crazy? Where the hell do you expect me to get that kind of money on short notice?”

“Fuck!” Urufu said.

“Language!” Noriko said and glared at him. She needed him to back down. “Look, you can dock my pay if it doesn't work out,” she suggested, and with that Urufu's secret was out in the open.

“Screw you!”

Thank all gods I mostly fell out of love with you earlier! That wasn't entirely true, but most of her feelings lay elsewhere now. “Thank you but no thank you. Nao maybe, but it's too early yet.” I'm unfair, but it can't be helped. You'd work me over the same way. “Make it happen!”

What she demanded of Urufu was beyond the pale, and she'd have what she needed or she'd see the festival crumble within a few hours. She locked eyes with him.

“Bah! No wonder I pay you two the most,” he said and admitted defeat.

“Pay?” the council treasurer said from his chair.

“Shut up!” both Noriko and Urufu said in unison.

“Fine! Get me someone with a motorcycle and an extra helmet. I'll need coordinates as well.”

Noriko sank back in her seat. She'd apologise later. “I love you, you know. Not the way I love Nao, but still. I'll get your ride.” She would. One of the thugs in 9:1 rode one.

She wasn't supposed to know, but he adored everything Wakayama from the moment they stood their ground against the bullying at Red Rose Hell. Since last night Urufu was included in his hero worship, because Noriko told him why Urufu was expelled.

“What's going on?” the treasurer asked and broke Noriko's memories.

She threw him a dark look. “If the student council can't fund the cultural festival Hamarugen-sama will do so in your stead.” Urufu deserved that much at least. She forced him to put his company on the line based on pure speculation. In return she could at least refer to him with the utmost respect.

She dug up her smart phone and dialled a number. The call took less than twenty seconds. On pure speculation, but you knew you could fund it if things went south, didn't you? Four cars with students unable to pay for the supplies they were ordered to buy had already hit the road. Urufu has some serious catching up to do, and she hoped the thug knew his bike.

“Big words coming from you. Where the hell did you arrive at three million yen?” It seemed the treasurer didn't intend to give up.

“You really don't know?” You can't be that clueless, can you?

“Know what?”

He could, and when she thought about it maybe clueless was too harsh. “Our friend, Ageruman-san,” she chose the polite reference, because he probably wouldn't know who Kuri was, “is a part time model.”

“And?”

Noriko turned her computer to him so he could watch the videos. Kuri's face was plastered to every major billboard around Tokyo since the day before.

Noriko hardly listened to Urufu leaving the room. Instead she slammed both hands to her desk. “Now listen closely. Best case, absolutely best case, we estimate five thousand guests here tomorrow.”

He stared back at her with his face pale and lifeless. The numbers simply didn't agree with him. She could as well kill any remaining hopes of understanding he had.

“Worst case we'll have upwards to twenty thousand people trying to get in. There's no way in hell we can handle that.”

“Where did you get those numbers,” he asked and repeated his prior question in a new way.

She couldn't tell him. Those weren't merely estimates from their friend Kuri; those were from the billion dollar empress. Noriko had absolutely no reason to doubt over thirty years' worth of professional experience from the fashion industry, but she couldn't tell him. Sixteen year old girls didn't have that kind of experience.

“It's a wild guess,” she lied and tried to make it sound like she admitted that she had no clue. Twelve to fifteen thousand, unless something unexpected happens, Kuri had said. Eight thousand and not a soul more, Urufu had responded when asked about how many guests the school could handle with the help of a shoehorn.

We're so screwed! She growled and when the treasurer winced she shook her hands. She wasn't angry with him. She had forced Urufu to empty his accounts, but that only covered supplies for five thousand guests.

I'll bleed Kuri dry as well and it still won't be enough. She already had. One million yen, Kuri's entire fortune, transferred to Urufu half an hour earlier. He didn't know yet. He also didn't know she held lingering feelings for him despite going out with Nao. Enough to join him in the madness.

“Excuse me, I need to make a call.” Noriko rose and left the room.

In the corridor outside she dialled another contact and waited for the answer.

“Dad, I need access to my university funds.”