"Misaki… if you keep holding my hand like that, I'll have to propose to you, you know."
Her cheeks exploded in a blush that spread from ear to ear, like crimson ink spilling over white silk.
"I-it's not the time to joke like that!"
She covered her face with both hands. Her fingers barely let the arch of her lips show through, trembling between laughter and indignation.
"Come on, don't be like that…"
I grabbed one of the bread rolls from the table and shoved it whole into my mouth. The sweet taste of freshly baked dough filled my palate.
"More manners, please…"
I felt Misaki's gaze fixed on me. Her golden eyes drilled into me with that mix of exasperation and affection that only she could conjure. I swallowed as fast as I could. Nearly choked.
"Misaki, Misaki… In times of crisis, manners are surplus."
She poured the cereal while I spoke. The sound of the oat balls falling into the bowl was oddly comforting: plink, plink, plink.
I planted my bare foot on the chair and struck a declamatory pose.
"Because when a vagabond comes for the last taco you managed to buy to snatch it from you, you're not going to consider that you have an exam tomorrow! That fight will come in its due time, but I…!"
I stood up on the chair, arms outstretched toward the ceiling as if summoning the gods of breakfast.
"I will not die of hunger after a night of studying! And if I have to fight in an alley at three in the morning and then go to school, THEN I AM WILLING TO DO IT!"
FLOOF!
Something soft and blunt hit me in the face. I wobbled dangerously on the chair, but Misaki's hand pressed against my back and steadied me before I fell.
I grabbed the projectile with both hands. A pillow. With a flower-patterned cover.
"Who the hell threw this at me?"
"Hahaha…"
I watched Misaki laugh before turning her gaze toward the door, covering her mouth with her hand. Her shoulders were shaking.
"Why are you making such a racket in the morning?"
In the kitchen doorway, in a disheveled robe and her hair falling in wild strands over her eyes, stood Camila. She was pressing two fingers to her temple, as if trying to crush an oncoming migraine.
"Don't tell me… you were drunk already?"
I looked at her, grinning shamelessly. A grin that said: I know exactly what happened last night.
She raised her fist toward me. Her knuckles were white.
"You damn demon! You dare call me a drunk?"
I mimicked a boxer's stance: fists up, light on my feet, chin tucked.
"I'm not scared of you! I watched Rocky IV and Ashita no Joe!"
"Hahahaha, you two are lively today!"
Behind Camila, Dad appeared. Hiroshi was rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, the pillow mark still on his cheek. His navy-blue robe gave him the air of a ship captain just waking up.
I lowered my arms.
"Good thing you got here, Dad. I almost killed Mom with my special techniques."
I sighed theatrically.
Camila let herself drop into a chair. The wood creaked under her weight.
"Special techniques? More like… essential hallucinations."
I felt a little tug on my skirt.
Whisper:
"Miss, get down and have breakfast like a normal person…"
"Oh. Right."
I tapped my chest with my fist, like a knight announcing her arrival.
"Lady Sienna has breakfast!"
I sat down gently, back straight, hands on my lap, in a parody of elegance.
We all sat down while Misaki served cereal to the others. The steam from the hot milk rose in lazy spirals.
"I don't see Osvaldo? Doesn't he have breakfast with us?"
I asked while demolishing my food. My spoon went back and forth from the bowl to my mouth at a speed hardly befitting a lady.
After asking the question, I noticed everyone staring at me intently. The silence grew thick as honey.
My father gently placed his hand over mine and whispered:
"Daughter… The food isn't going anywhere. You don't have to eat like that."
"Uhhh… I know, Dad. That's just how I am."
"Like an animal, huh…?"
I turned to Camila. She was watching me with one arched eyebrow and a crooked smile.
"Indeed… Mama gorilla."
She looked at me, smiling. Her eyes, still bloodshot, held an amused glint.
"I can behave for the rest, but let me eat cereal my way, please…"
"Please, let her be, okay? The young lady must not be used to it yet."
I smiled as I watched my great ally come to my rescue once again. Misaki was a sun in the middle of the family storm.
"Ah, right. Anyway…" I stood up from the chair, leaving the empty bowl behind. "We need to get ready for school."
"We certainly do…" Misaki took my hand. "Let's go, then."
We climbed the stairs. Our footsteps echoed on the old wood: tap, tap, tap, tap (two pairs of feet, a single rhythm). We entered my room. Misaki closed the door behind her with a soft click.
"Miss, I must ask you something…"
"Something?"
I looked at the wall, trying to think of something quickly. My mind was a whirlwind of potential excuses.
(If it's about the bathroom, I'll tell her I fell in the bathroom… No… Better that my tablet fell into the toilet…)
"We must talk about your…" the blush climbed from her neck to her ears, like mercury rising in a thermometer. "…friend down below."
"My friend down below?"
I placed my hands on my chin, trying to pace around the room like a detective deep in thought. The mask of calm was fragile.
(My friend down below… I certainly like him quite a bit. Though now it's more of a friend down below. Or something.)
"We need to talk about Dad?"
"No…" she gently took my hand. "…that… it?"
She pointed. Her index finger trembled slightly, aiming at the general area of my skirt.
"Ah… it."
My embarrassment was evident. I felt the heat rising in my own cheeks, an involuntary mirror of Misaki's blush.
(On one hand, it's… screwed up if anyone else finds out. On the other hand, it's Misaki. She's already proven she can be an ally. And I don't think she's a bad person.)
"Is it… necessary to know?"
"Yes. It is."
Misaki's eyes were resolute. Two golden spearheads. Though her face, bathed in blush, was less so.
"Listen, Misaki. I'll tell you clearly. But I need your help first…"
Misaki hesitated. Her face blushed further, if that was even physically possible.
"My help? What… do you need?"
"I need your help with a very embarrassing and personal task…"
I gripped my own hand tightly. My knuckles went pale.
"Em… embarrassing…"
Misaki gently grabbed the bedsheet. Her fingers clung to the fabric like a castaway to a plank.
"Yes! Misaki, I need your help. And it will be embarrassing. And dangerous."
Misaki swallowed hard. Her throat bobbed slowly.
"I need your help to get the female teachers' panties."
I said it clearly, looking her in the eyes. Without blinking. Without looking away.
Silence.
Misaki's blushing face slowly changed to an expression of disgust. As if she had bitten into a lemon thinking it was an apple.
"Miss, please, stop joking…"
"I understand it may sound ridiculous…"
I sighed. My shoulders sagged a little.
"But trust me, okay?"
Her expression still hadn't changed. Her lips were pressed into a thin line.
I moved closer to her and took her hand in mine. Her skin was warm, slightly sweaty.
"Please, believe me. It's my only chance…"
A light sadness settled on her face. The corners of her lips trembled downward.
"It's unfair that you say that…"
I gently kissed her hand. My lips brushed her knuckles for barely a second, but it was enough to bring her blush back with full force.
"I need my knight for this mission…"
I smiled.
"To borrow them."
The 2-B classroom smelled of chalk and floor disinfectant. Quadratic equations spread across the digital blackboard like incomprehensible symbols. The math teacher wrote in impeccable handwriting, oblivious to her students' suffering.
I watched the clock. The minute hand crawled like a dying snail.
(11:45. Not long now. Very soon.)
"Ladies, remember that on Monday we have exams."
The word "exams" fell over the classroom like a bucket of cold water. Several girls groaned quietly. Others started taking frantic notes.
I scanned for the only ally I had at that moment. Daisy, two rows ahead, returned a look of panic.
"Remember to review everything." The teacher packed up her things with dry, precise movements. "You are dismissed."
The screen lit up with bright colors. The dinosaur appeared again, dancing, holding a burger the size of its head.
"Guys, guys! Remember to visit our beloved shop! The Great Smash Combo awaits you!"
The dinosaur said goodbye with an epic bite of the burger. Crunch.
"Sienn—"
"Hold on, Daisy."
I covered her lips with my hands before she could finish. Her eyes widened in surprise.
"We're not having lunch today. I've got a job…"
Daisy pulled my hand away with a gentle but firm gesture.
"Seriously? It's not going to be something weird, is it?"
"Don't worry. You don't have to doubt that."
I walked away, leaving her behind. My footsteps echoed in the empty hallway: tap, tap, tap.
Daisy watched me go. Her gaze followed me until I turned the corner.
(So she's going to get herself into trouble again…)
I walked to the meeting point near the entrance to the gym. The smell of chlorine and sweat floated in the air as a reminder of the swimming class taking place at that moment.
Misaki was already there. Her posture was rigid, her hands clasped in front of her skirt. Her golden eyes followed me as I approached.
"Well, miss, let's get this over with, shall we?"
"Yes."
"Don't worry, Misaki. I promise to discuss the other thing at home."
While Misaki kept watch on the gym corridor, I returned to the tiger's territory.
The door to the female teachers' locker room was there. The same door I had crossed yesterday. The same one I had stumbled out of, with a broken ankle and my dignity on the floor.
(What crappy security. Doesn't anyone lock the doors?)
I opened it and slipped in easily. The interior was dark. Not completely black, but dark enough for a bad bump or fall, lit only by the light filtering through a small window up high.
"Okay…"
I reached out my hand to find the light switch. My fingers groped the cold wall, searching.
Drip. Drip.
The sound of water falling in some distant shower chilled my blood.
"Someone must have left the shower on… Better hurry…"
My arms trembled as I searched for the nearest locker. The smell of soap and stale steam filled the air.
Tap… tap… tap…
Footsteps could be heard getting closer. Rubber soles on wet tiles.
(Damn it, damn it! Where are they?)
My fingers found an open locker. I groped inside. Soft fabric. Lace. I took them. I put them in my pocket. Then I put them back again, because the mission was so ambiguous that it had to have a trick to it.
"What are you doing?"
A sweet voice sounded behind me. Too sweet. Like when you know you've screwed up and your mother calls you.
(Shit! I screwed up!)
I turned around slightly. A girl with silver hair, in an athletic uniform that clung to her body, was watching me from the bathroom door. Her hair fell to her shoulders, straight and shiny like liquid mercury.
"Ah…" she sighed. "It's just a kid…"
"Hey…"
The girl had adopted a somewhat strange stance: legs slightly apart, body tilted, as if she were about to break into a sprint.
"What did you say, you little shit?"
DING!
A little bell rang in my head. A notification I hadn't asked for sounded from my pocket.
Congratulations! Your first mission is complete.
Silence.
The girl stared at me. Her eyes were a gray so pale they almost looked white.
"You… bitch… Are you here to play a prank on me?"
"No. That's not it. It's just that… I thought that… you know… I came looking for…"
My brain desperately searched for an excuse. Words to save my skin. Until I remembered a name. A name that had stayed imprinted on me.
"I came looking for Kirara!"
The girl stared at me. Her gray eyes blinked once. Twice.
(Good. I think she bought it.)
CRASH!
The girl leaped. It was easily two meters straight at me. Her leg rose in a perfect arc and her foot slammed into my cheek with the force of a hammer.
My mind didn't react until I felt my body being shoved against the lockers. The metal boomed with a deafening clang. My back protested, and my cheek burned.
"Shit…"
"Is that all you've got, little girl?"
She watched me with a look of superiority. Her arms were crossed under her chest. Her posture was that of a predator eyeing wounded prey.
"Hey, kid…" I straightened up, bracing myself against the lockers. "How old are you?"
My fists rose. My feet settled into a fighting stance.
"How old? I'm twenty-seven… so…"
"DON'T CALL ME A KID!"
WHOOSH!
I threw an upward punch. An uppercut meant to connect with her chin.
But she ducked. My fist cut through the air.
"Almost, almost…"
SMACK!
Her fist slammed directly into my side. The pain exploded like a flower of fire. My ribs ached.
"So that's how you want to play, huh…?"
I did a few little hops on the spot. Tap-tap-tap-tap. My feet moved lightly over the tiles.
"Come on, bitch!"
We both closed in at the same time. Her left hook came at me like a scythe. I dodged it by millimeters. I felt the wind of the blow graze my nose.
SWISH!
Panting… I breathed heavily. "Damn… you're good…"
She looked at me. Her gray eyes assessed me. And then, she adjusted her stance. Lower. Like a spring about to snap.
(She's fast. Very fast. And strong. But she has a pattern. She ducks her head before throwing the right. If I can anticipate…)
I clenched my fists. Sweat ran down my forehead.
"You know what?" I said, smiling despite the pain. "I didn't think my first mission would include a fight. But since we're here…"
I adopted a lower stance, mirroring hers.
"I don't plan on losing to a twenty-seven-year-old kid!"