Chapter 35
Lost Connections

Far in the north, at the ends of the world, winter days are things of light and sun and blistering, ever-pervasive cold. Moisture in the air is entirely incapable of condensing, molecules unable to even cling to one another's tender hydrogenic grasp. Frozen, they dance in mesoscopic crystals, refracting light in arcs around the sun to create breathtaking parhelia; sundogs, faithfully bounding at their master's side.

Beauty, visible only in the grasp of the extreme. A sight reserved for those on the edge, for worlds so cold that temperature scales converge.

Winter in Nagoya was not like that.

"Pencils down."

Rain gently pelted against the window, sliding down the glass panes. As the final exam finished on Wednesday morning, I shifted in my seat, attempting to fight down my irritation. I'd finished the science exam two hours prior -- yet, the invigilating teacher had, for some completely unfathomable reason, not permitted me to leave my seat, forcing me to sit and stare out the window. Stewing in my own thoughts, I'd spent nearly the whole time worried about Yotsuba.

Consuming myself with the delusion that I had a semblance of control over what was to come.

It's over, anyways.

Rising, and shaking my head at the teacher in disgust as I left, I made my way to the cafeteria for lunch. While we technically didn't have classes in the afternoon, I'd planned to stay and study in the library as a means to decompress; therefore, despite my wallet's protestations, it didn't make much sense for me to go home.

After ordering my typical inexpensive lunch, I settled into my usual spot. Uneasily, I shifted in place, cracking my chopsticks.

The library wasn't my only reason for staying. I was also hoping to get lunch with Yotsuba and debrief. I could feel the worry of the previous two hours gnawing away in the depths of my chest; a deep-seated desire to reach out to her, to get assurance, to get some kind of progress report.

Not knowing was deeply uncomfortable. It was like there was an itch that I couldn't scratch driving me mad.

The chair across the table pulled back, scraping across the floor, and I looked up hopefully-- only to see Takeda sliding into the seat across from me.

"Um... hello...?"

"Hello!" Takeda said brightly, settling down his tray.

"...Can I help you?" I asked drily, the spike of irritation I felt almost certainly leaking into my voice. It's not his fault he isn't Yotsuba.

"I just wanted to debrief about the exams," Takeda said. "As you know... I've been providing additional tutoring sessions for Nakano Itsuki, which I hope helped. The others, though..."

I opened my mouth... and then bit back the retort I'd been about to make about how there was no point in having this discussion after the exams had already happened.

I could hear the quivering in his voice, not-quite-hidden by the false lightness of his tone.

It was a façade.

Takeda was frightened.

After a long silence, I pinched the bridge of my nose, and closed my eyes.

"Right... so," I muttered, "From the sound of it, Itsuki's probably more or less ok, then? How are you feeling about the others? It doesn't seem positive."

Takeda shifted uncomfortably in the chair, poking down at his food.

"I don't know that even calling Nakano Itsuki's prospects 'ok' is correct, Uesugi-kun. Her positioning is simply the best of the four; but frankly..."

Opening my eyes, I looked across the table at him -- and I realized that there was the barest trace of shadow beginning to form under his eyes.

"I would be astounded if any of them passed all five exams," Takeda said bluntly.

An uncomfortable feeling was settling in the depths of my stomach. Despite everything, despite our tumultuous relationship, I could empathize with the deep-seated frustration and resignation in Takeda's murmured words.

At least at the end, he's been trying his best.

Yet... too little.

Too late.

Then, something he'd said made me pause.

"Wait... of the four? There are five of them."

A dismissive noise came from Takeda as he batted a hand at me. "Right, yes, but I wasn't counting Nakano Yotsuba. She's being tutored by me, it's true, but I think we both know who's done the majority of the work there. I have no concerns on that front."

Frowning, I tilted my head. "Really? None? I'm not even entirely certain she'll make it."

"Uesugi-kun," Takeda said, a note of genuine amusement creeping into his voice, "has anyone ever told you that you can be a bit of a pessimist?"

"What? No, absolutely not," I scoffed. "I'm not a pessimist. I just try to temper my expectations -- I also never go too far in the other direction either. I'm a realist."

"Hmm. Well, regardless, I have no concerns about Nakano Yotsuba. I'm absolutely confident she'll be completely fine."

Fine...?

There was a ball of stone in the depths of my stomach; somehow, hearing Takeda's assurances about Yotsuba did nothing to assuage my worry. I wanted to believe it -- but every time I tried, an image of her exhausted face rose to the forefront of my mind. Of the way she'd looked in the days leading up to her walking out onto the field with Eba en route to their training camp; stretched out too thin, strained to a tearing point.

Breaking.

I certainly believed she was capable of passing the exams.

That isn't the same thing as being fine.

"Well, unfortunately," I said quietly, "things are out of your hands now. All you can do is trust that they've done their best."

"That's... that's true," Takeda sighed miserably, the mask of false levity momentarily slipping. "Well... I'll leave you be. I would imagine you managed to get to all of your own studying as well -- I've got no worries on that front either, despite how much I would certainly love to beat you without a fight."

Despite myself, I could feel a smirk cross my face. "Yeah... dream on. I wouldn't go down that easily."

"Good," he said, a smile coming back across his face. "Well, I shall see you later, dear Uesugi-kun!"

Silently, I wondered how much of his grin was real.

"Yeah, sure. See you."

Takeda rose, sliding back the chair -- and as he did so, I heard footsteps. Glancing over to my right, I saw Yotsuba approaching with her own tray in hand. She looked between Takeda and me uncertainly, but Takeda simply gave her an over-the-top bow and left.

As he walked away, I could see the unsteadiness in his step. The quiet shaking in his shoulders.

The gait of a man doomed to the gallows.

...I guess I have another person to be worried about.

"So?" I asked quietly, attempting to stifle the sympathy rising in my throat as I glanced over at Yotsuba. "How was it?"

After sliding into the previously occupied seat, she frowned as she dug into her food. "It's... kind of hard to say. It helps that math was the last exam, since I had some extra time to study... but I never really have a good idea of how I did on these sorts of things, you know?"

"That's... fair, I guess. Well, it's out of our hands now," I shrugged. That didn't help.

"Mmm. Dasz troo," Yotsuba said.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," I sighed.

Yotsuba held up a finger, finished chewing, and then swallowed. Then, with a shrug, she put her chopsticks down.

"That's true," she repeated, her voice strained. "Besides, as much as I worked really hard for these exams... I don't really have time to think about them anymore, you know?"

"...Because of track?"

Yotsuba nodded, and lowered her head to her hands.

"Well... I've gotta do what I've gotta do... don't have time to rest."

She let out a quiet sigh, and then was silent, unmoving.

My eyes traced over her red hair, tumbling in strands around her shoulders, her ribbon drooping over like a wilted flower. There was a pallor to her, a colour to her face that set me on edge. The lead-up to the exams, and the remaining runway to the track meet, had taken so much out of her... I could feel my heart clenching.

She's at her limit.

"Yotsuba..."

"Yeah?" she asked, not looking up at me.

"...Your hair is in your soup."

Rearing back, eyes wide, she grabbed hurriedly at the tips of her hair -- and then seemed to almost deflate as she found that they were, in fact, sopping wet.

"Oh no," she groaned, her face reddening. "That's really embarrassing, I--"

"Don't worry," I said, trying and failing to suppress the laugh which was attempting to force its way out of my chest. "I won't tell anyone."

Yotsuba muttered under her breath, and then excused herself to run to the washroom to wash her hair. As she left, I shook my head, and looked down at the table.

She really is tired...

Yet, despite myself, I could feel my heart rate suddenly pick up.

Whispered words, not meant for my ears.

"I didn't want you to see."

My hand unconsciously rising to my bangs, I scanned the room as a means to distract myself from the influx of thoughts nibbling at my mind. The grinding of claws against the bars of the cage in my chest; not quite enough to break through, not yet.

Enough, though, to create a shrieking, ringing sound like nails on a chalkboard in my mind.

Get a grip.

Yotsuba eventually returned, embarrassed, and we finished our lunches. I left for the library, while she went home.

I hoped it was to rest.

I knew it was to begin training.

Already.

We still had classes over the intervening weeks before winter break -- and so it was eight days later, sitting in my chair next to the window, that the teacher finished their lecture, and then moved to stand at their lectern, bringing the whole class to a standstill in anticipation.

"Alright everyone," he said, pulling a messenger bag out from the alcove in the stand's interior. "I have your marks for the final exams here. Please come up as I call your name, and I'll hand out your results."

I was summoned shortly thereafter -- "Uesugi Fuutarou" -- and rose from my seat. Coming to the front of the class, the teacher pulled out a slip of paper, and handed it to me.

"Well done as usual, Uesugi-kun," the teacher said none-too-quietly, smiling warmly at me. "Top of the grade, as always."

"Thanks, Sensei," I murmured, receiving the slip. Returning to my seat, I could feel the glares of my classmates on me -- it made my skin crawl. Yet, glancing over at Itsuki, she gave me a thumbs up; and I smiled at her.

At least not everyone in the class hates me.

A few minutes later, she was called, and Itsuki rose from her seat. Nervously walking up to the front of the class, she glanced over at me; and as I returned the affirmative gesture she'd given me, she seemed to relax slightly. If only for a moment, she smiled -- though it didn't do much to hide the anxiety in her eyes.

As Itsuki took her slip of paper from the teacher and returned to her desk, my eyes were trained on her -- she held in her hands more than just her own fate. Takeda's immediate future rode, at least in part, on her scores as well.

Slipping into her chair, she put the report down on the table. Then, drawing a deep breath, she squared her shoulders, and flipped the paper over.

I could see her eyes moving. Scanning the page, looking over the results.

Looking at her successes.

Her face scrunched up, her eyebrows drawing in. Her lips tightening, I could see the emotion crossing her face... and then she quietly slammed a fist down on the table, and lowered her head to her hands. My chest contracted, instinctively reacting emotionally to what I was seeing before my mind could catch up and process it intellectually.

Itsuki's shoulders shuddered.

Failure.

Takeda was a dead man walking.

As the final student received their exam score, and the teacher departed the room, I immediately rose from my chair and hurried over to Itsuki's desk, standing over her huddled form.

"How bad is it?" I asked quietly.

Itsuki took a moment to respond, her head still buried in her hands. Eventually, she just took the slip of paper and handed it to me without looking up.

___________________________________________________________________

Name: Nakano Itsuki

Japanese: 43. Math: 35. Science: 68. Social Studies: 27. English: 38.

TOTAL: 211

___________________________________________________________________

I stared down at the sheet for a long moment, before finally looking up at Itsuki.

"You know, this is pretty good," I said softly. "If I remember correctly, you got a hundred on the midterms -- so, this is a massive improvement. Actually, come to think of it... Yotsuba got two-hundred-and-eight on the midterms. So... you even beat her score from then. You should be proud."

Itsuki laughed, and raised her head -- but there was no humour in her laugh, and I could hear a shaking in her voice, the tell-tale sign of tears suppressed, relentlessly bound until she was alone.

Never to be shown in front of me.

Never to be shown in front of anyone.

"It's not good enough," she said blandly. "I still failed, Uesugi-kun."

I frowned, unsure of what I could say. Itsuki swallowed, and then looked back down at the page.

"I wasn't good enough."

Lowering her head further into her arms, she took a deep, shuddering breath, and then let it out again slowly. For a long moment, she was still, silent. Yet, there was a thickness to the air, a discomfort; as though she were on the verge of saying something, of shaking it off, of driving forward, of--

"Sorry, Uesugi-kun," she murmured. "I... think I need to be alone for a while."

I hesitated, my hand outstretched... and then, withdrawing it slightly hurt, I nodded.

"If you're sure. I'll see you later Itsuki."

She made a small affirmative noise, her face still hidden, and I returned to my desk. Grabbing my bag, I threw it over my shoulder, and made to leave the room. As I reached the door, though, I turned back to look at her.

"Itsuki?"

No response.

"You're worth more than just your exam grades. I just want to make sure you know that."

No response.

I left.

The halls were packed with students -- and with them came every possible combination of emotion. Glee. Sorrow. Apathy. Terror at the prospect of a winter vacation filled with remedial exams, and relief at the narrow avoidance of such a fate.

A world from which I'd spent four long, hard years divesting myself.

There was only one possible answer for me: perfection.

Yet, now... now, I wasn't just worried about myself.

Getting a perfect grade for myself wasn't enough.

It hadn't been enough for a while.

My phone buzzed as I aimlessly walked through the hallways. A message from Yotsuba -- asking to meet at the school entrance before she went to track practice.

Adrenaline.

Anticipation.

Fear.

Diverting my path, I made my way down to the footlockers, breath catching in my throat the entire way.

When I arrived, she was already there, duffel bag haphazardly slung over her shoulder.

"Well?" I asked, not standing on ceremony as I approached.

Wordlessly, she handed me a slip of paper -- but I already knew the answer just from looking at her eyes.

___________________________________________________________________

Name: Nakano Yotsuba

Japanese: 68. Math: 39. Science: 51. Social Studies: 56. English: 48.

TOTAL: 262

___________________________________________________________________

Silence.

I looked up at her.

There was fire in her eyes, and flame in her hair, a conflagration barely contained by the pale skin that was trembling before me.

Vindication.

Victory.

Victory.

The dam finally burst as exhausted, satisfied joy spread out across her face as floodwaters coursing over flatlands; unstoppable, unrelenting, enveloping all in its path. She was dazzling -- and I was blinded by her light.

All the hours upon hours of gruelling, relentless study. The weeks and months of hard work. The sacrifice, the frustration of failure, the bitter taste of her previous defeat. The ever-present spirit of determination to rise up again, despite everything.

To drive onwards. To always drive onwards.

In the glow of her ecstasy, she was beautiful.

A roar, deep in my chest.

A midnight paw, slamming against steel.

Threadbare iron, rotted away by rust and time and repeated assault, snapped.

For the second time, for only a fraction of a moment, the beast was free of the cage.

And I moved.

Stepping forward, I embraced her, and drew her tight. Enveloping Yotsuba in my arms, I hugged her; face pressed into my shoulder, ribbon twitching next to my ear. My hand, against the fabric of her shirt between her shoulder blades, pulling her in towards me.

"Yotsuba," I murmured, my lips a short way above her ear. "I just... I'm really, really proud of you."

There was a squeak from Yotsuba, slightly muffled by my vest... but then, I felt her slender arms slide around my waist, and she squeezed as she returned the hug. There was a prolonged moment of silence as she pressed against me -- and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, screaming for release, for egress.

Deep inside, the beast was waging war, fighting against the suppressive force driving it back towards the shell of the cage.

Forcing my desires back within.

But for now, freedom.

I pulled her tighter.

"It doesn't feel real."

The words, whispered, were still crystal clear to my ear. Yotsuba's face was buried in my chest, and I could feel the gentle trembling that was running through her body -- relief, exhaustion, joy, a slow deflation of the ball of stress that had been filling her for over a month; detectable only in its absence, a homogeneous background that had filled her life since we'd returned from the camping trip.

Longer, really.

"I bet," I murmured. "You've worked really hard for this."

"Mhmm."

Yotsuba eventually drew back, out of my arms -- and despite the fact she wasn't quite looking me in the eye, I could see the pink hue that had rapidly stolen its way across her face. A part of me felt empty in her absence. A part of me desperately wanted to reach out again; to pull her back into my arms, to hold her close, to never let her go.

That part of me was in the process of being forced back into the cage with polearms and spears and threats of annihilation.

"I, um," Yotsuba laughed nervously, her face filled with colour. "I'm really grateful, Uesugi-san. For all your help, I mean."

I just nodded wordlessly. There was suddenly a kind of awkwardness to the air -- as if we both weren't quite sure what to say. I was growing increasingly aware of our surroundings; of the fact we were at the front doors of the school, that we weren't alone, that there were people. They'd mostly not seen us... for now.

Deep in my chest, the beast screamed for its release. Roars, echoing out past the hastily-repaired bars.

Demanding I touch her. Demanding I pull her back to my breast, to feel the warmth of her skin against my own.

Another padlock.

Another layer of barbed wire.

Another attempt to close the hole in the steel, flimsy fixes growing weaker and weaker with each escape.

"Well," I finally said, glancing away. "You're not done yet. There's still a race for you to run..."

"R-right..."

"...and you still have to pass the next exam," I said, looking back at her. "You have to do it all again in the winter term."

Yotsuba straightened up at that, her cheeks still red -- and she nodded, a serious expression coming across her face.

"I'll do my best!"

I nodded again, and Yotsuba's eyes lingered on me for a moment... before she seemed to get a little more red, and then glanced away.

"Anyways, um... I need to run to my track meet now. Oh, heh... that's ironic. Uh... I'll see you later, Uesugi-san!"

Grabbing her duffel bag from where it had fallen to the floor, she threw it over her shoulder, and ran out the door. Watching her jog away, her ribbon shaking with each step she took, I could feel the tingle of the spots where she'd been in contact with me. The electricity of what remained of her touch.

"I'll be there however long you want me to be."

The words, half-whispered, came unbidden from my mouth. She was far beyond earshot. The words weren't even really for her; unknowable, they lingered in the air, far away from her.

A spoken truth, only for myself.

Shaking my head, I turned and walked back into the school.

Even with exams over, I couldn't allow myself to rest.

As I rounded the corner to the library, I thought I saw a flash of red hair -- a girl at the other end of the hallway. Yet, at this distance, I couldn't be sure which quintuplet it was, save Yotsuba. From the way they were hunched over, as though guarding themselves, as though they were protecting their core from the cruel outside world, I suspected it was Itsuki.

As I stared at where she'd been, my phone began to ring.

I already knew who it was before I picked up.

"It's over."

A choked up voice on the other end of the line. The raspiness of someone barely holding back tears... or having just finished spilling them.

"Takeda..."

The line went dead.

Putting my phone back in my pocket, I paused outside the library door, and closed my eyes.

It's over... isn't it?

It had been a triumph for Yotsuba. A resounding victory.

I had been telling the truth. I was proud of her. Deeply proud.

But... it's hard to be entirely happy about how things turned out.

As I'd walked through the halls, I'd been overcome with conflicting emotions, swirling within me in a competing admixture, immiscible, refusing to harmonize and become something whole. There was warmth, circling in the periphery, the outer reaches of the vortex heated by joy in Yotsuba's achievements.

Yet, the inner core was still cold.

Anxiety. Fear.

I'm worried she's going to think this is sustainable after all.

Somewhere in the mix was also concern for Takeda, and a reminder of the pain on Itsuki's face -- but somehow, those feelings were lost in the tumultuous worry about Yotsuba that was storming within my chest. The beast in the cage had long since been silenced by the typhoon's repeated battering, shrinking back to its refuge in the shadows.

I opened the library door, and stepped inside.

I don't want to think about this anymore.

And so, I didn't.

The weekend approached quickly, and I soon found myself standing in the middle of the street outside a large (by my standards) stadium in a part of Nagoya I'd never been to before. There was a sense of intimidation in its towering structure, in its flared glass, in the throngs of people moving in and out through the doors.

A sign nearby read "48th Aichi Prefecture High School Track Meet".

Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward. Into the building.

Into the crowd.

"Uesugi-kun!"

Entering a large foyer, I looked up at the call to see Itsuki standing halfway up a flight of stairs, her arm raised over her head in greeting -- and as a means to increase her visibility. Weaving my way through the throng of people, I emerged at the base of the stairs and began to climb towards her. There was an uneasiness in the way she was standing.

We hadn't spoken since the day we'd received the exam results.

"How are you holding up?" I asked quietly as we walked together away from the rumbling crowd far below.

She shrugged noncommittally. "Do you want the honest answer, or the polite answer?"

"The honest one."

"I feel like shit," she muttered -- and the cursing, so uncharacteristic for her, made me pause for a moment before resuming my pace, accelerating slightly to catch up with her.

"That... makes sense," I said, a note of sympathy creeping into my voice. "Working so hard and not quite making it is really hard."

"It isn't that," Itsuki shook her head. "Well, that too -- but that's not the main thing."

I cocked my head, unsure as to what exactly she meant.

"I just feel really, really guilty," she murmured.

"Do you mean about Takeda, and--"

"We're here," Itsuki interrupted me, not quite meeting my eye.

'Here' was a box seat high above the stadium. Stepping out into the light, I was briefly blinded... and then blinked to see that there were seven seats set up with a prime view of the field down below, ringed by a track. Itsuki walked into the room, and sank into one of the seats next to a disgruntled looking Nino. Miku and Ichika, who were seated nearby, raised their hands in greeting.

"Uesugi-saaaaaan!"

To my surprise, Yotsuba was in the box -- and as she bounded over to me, I could see the signs of her exhaustion. She'd obviously neglected sleep in favour of trying to make up the time she'd lost to studying.

Yet, there was more to it than that. I could also tell that she was a quivering bundle of nerves. Like a spring, loaded and compressed to a breaking point, potential energy about to be converted to kinetic. When released, she would be like a bullet, nigh unstoppable.

But for now, she was here.

For now, she was still.

Mostly.

"Thanks for coming, I really appreciate it," she said. "I'm super nervous! We've been working really hard, but I think we stand a pretty good chance -- Eba-san is so fast, and she's been training us really hard, and I'm really nervous about letting the team down; but I've practiced really hard Uesugi-san, so I hope it was enough, I think Eba-san was pretty upset about the whole 'taking-time-off-to-study-for-exams' thing but she..."

I just let Yotsuba ramble at me, her nerves exploding out of her mouth as she spoke. There was a quiet joy in listening to her speak, knowing the words didn't mean anything to her -- and yet, they also meant everything.

There was a silent warmth there.

"...and then I think Haru-san doesn't really like me that much, but I'm going to do my very best to become friends with her, because I remember that when I was little my soccer coach always said that being a good teammate was the most important part of teamwork, so I--"

From the seats, there was a cough.

Yotsuba's jaw immediately slammed shut.

"So..."

The voice was smooth, and deep. Like midnight-black satin, falling in sheets of rippling material, the single word was uninterrupted, sleek. It would have been nearly melodious, had it not been for the subtle undertone of frigid ice that lurked beneath the surface of the quiet syllable.

A perilous thing. One wrong step, and it would crack, plunging me into the depths below.

"You're Uesugi-kun, I suppose. It's truly a pity you rejected my offer."

In the seat, glancing back to face me, was a man with deep black hair. A pale face, drawn. His sunken eyes spoke to his intelligence, shadows underneath whispering of long nights spent working. I didn't need an introduction. I knew immediately who I was speaking to.

I also knew, viscerally, that I did not like this man.

"You must be Dr. Nakano," I said quietly, choosing my words with care. Despite my past track record, I didn't particularly want to anger Yotsuba's father. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

The icy eyes looking back at me were unmoved. They analyzed me, pulling small bits and pieces of me off like piranhas nibbling at their prey. I felt as though I were being systematically deconstructed, each part that constituted my whole being categorized, evaluated.

Judged.

"Alas, after your decision, I was forced to settle for second best," Nakano Maruo said, turning back to stare down at the track down below, and the staff preparing for the event. "Evidently, the results of that decision speak for themselves."

A flare of irritation in my chest. Swiftly suppressed.

I can't get into a fight with Yotsuba's dad. This isn't like with Eba.

Swallowing down the quiet anger I felt, both on Takeda's behalf and my own, I simply shrugged.

"Well, I'm not a tutor. I can't exactly afford to spend my time training five students to pass exams. Besides, I don't have any teaching experience. So, I'm certain any other teachers you may have hired will surely have exceeded whatever meagre results I could have produced."

"False modesty," Dr. Nakano said quietly, "is not a trait that gets one far in life, Uesugi-kun."

The ice under the surface of his words seemed, in that moment, all the colder. Yet, beneath the frigid hoarfrost, deep under the frozen layer that coated his speech, there was a hint of something else. A hint, perhaps, of wry amusement.

He knows about Yotsuba's scores.

"I appreciate you inviting me here today," I said, bowing my head as I changed the subject. "I'm truly grateful. These seats are certainly... impressive."

Dr. Nakano waved a hand dismissively, still not deigning to look at me after the initial glance. "It's nothing."

I could feel the ice, and the awkwardness, and the incompatibility of it all. The man in the seat in front of me was a high-flying surgeon. A man who saved lives as easily as he breathed. He was rich, and well-respected, and powerful.

I was the son of a poor warehouse worker, and a failed restaurateur. The only asset I had in life was studying.

Nothing more.

I don't belong here.

Dr. Nakano glanced at his watch, and looked at Yotsuba. "You should be descending soon, should you not, Yotsuba-kun?"

"Eh? Ah-- oh, you're right!" Yotsuba said, suddenly pulled out of the nervous anticipation she'd been caught in, repeatedly glancing back and forth between us. "Um... I'll see you all later!"

"Good luck, Yotsuba-chan!" Ichika said easily from her spot where she was sat cross-legged a few seats to the right of her father. "Kick their butts!"

Yotsuba threw a salute... and as she walked towards the door, I turned and hurried after her.

"I'll walk you down," I murmured.

"O-oh," Yotsuba said, her ears turning a faint pink. "Sure!"

Using her as an excuse to escape the frigid, oppressive atmosphere in the box seats, I hastily followed her down the steps I'd ascended with Itsuki.

"Good luck," I murmured to Yotsuba. "You've got this."

"Ehehe," she laughed awkwardly. "I hope so, but... I'm kinda scared."

"Don't be," I shook my head. "I've watched you train. You're unbeatable."

"Shi shi shi. Is that so?" Yotsuba grinned, turning to face me as she hopped off the final step. "Well, I guess I have to do my best now!"

I tilted my head, confused.

"I can't let you down now, can I?" she teased. "After all, if you believe in me, I have to make sure you're rewarded for your faith!"

A smile broke out across my face, and I rolled my eyes. "Don't get too ahead of yourself."

Yotsuba chortled as she began walking through the crowd, and I could feel myself grinning as I stepped after her. Despite everything, despite all the worrying I had been doing about her health and her constant overdoing of everything she tried... I loved it when we could just talk. When we could just joke around, and relax.

I wish we could do this more.

"So," I said, trying to be delicate. "Your dad is definitely... interesting."

"Ah... yeah," Yotsuba said, laughing sheepishly. "He definitely takes some getting used to. He means well, I think. He's just... uh, how do I put this?"

"Cold?" I asked.

Yotsuba shook her head. "No, that's not it. He's just... rigid, I guess. The fact he's here at all is kind of incredible. He said that his secretary made a clerical error, and didn't book any patients at all for today. It's kind of like a freak accident, you know? So... we'll see how long he can stay."

"I see," I said doubtfully.

"That said... I'm really happy he could come," Yotsuba said, a wide smile crossing her face. "We don't always see eye-to-eye, but... he's done a lot for us."

I frowned. That's a bit of a weird way to talk about your own father.

"I'm really happy you could come too, Uesugi-san," she said, her smile softening slightly. "I know sports isn't really your thing, so..."

"I thought your track practices were interesting. Besides, if you're doing something like this, I want to be there for you."

Yotsuba's cheeks flushed pink, and she laughed.

"Well... good to know!"

"Yeah," I said, pushing through the crowd into an open space as we approached the athlete's locker rooms. "I'm not going to just refuse to come when you're doing something so important to you--"

The words died in my mouth.

I stopped walking.

Across the empty space, there was a boy standing next to a pillar. He looked bored, his eyes trained down on the smartphone in his hand through the glasses that sat on his face. The mop of black hair above his head, and the loose-fitting clothes he wore under a light winter jacket...

I know him.

And... and if he was here...

My eyes rapidly scanned the crowd. Searching, like prey on alert for a predator waiting in the brush, ready to pounce.

She's probably here too.

A flash of long black hair, flowing in the air moving through the atrium.

Our eyes met.

I could feel my body freezing. Panic was setting in, fear coursing down my spine and seeping out into every vein in my body, adrenaline driving through my arteries and screaming its way into every capillary. Every nerve I had was set to react. There were only two options allowed to me. Two options my body was willing to entertain.

Fight, or flight.

Flight.

I grabbed Yotsuba's hand, my palm across hers. She let out a squeak-- and then the squeak turned into confused noises as I turned, and ran.

It was a blind escape, my eyes not focused on where I was going. All I could think of was to get away. To escape from those piercing eyes. To escape from her sight.

To escape from the memories held within her gaze.

I ran, and I ran, and I ran, Yotsuba easily keeping pace behind me after her initial confusion. Eventually, I rounded a corner, and slid down the wall out of breath. Letting go of her hand, I stared blankly at the plain surface across the narrow hallway from me, not really seeing it.

My sight was turned entirely inward.

"Uesugi-san?"

I looked up at her, my eyes not quite focused. Adrenaline was still coursing through me, along with half-a-dozen other emergency hormones pumped into my blood. I could feel my heart pounding a mile a minute; I was certain only part of it was the running.

"Uesugi-san, what was that about?" Yotsuba whispered, her eyes wide. With fear, or with confusion, I wasn't sure.

I wasn't in any state to tell.

After a long moment of silence, I closed my eyes.

"I... I saw someone I knew," I whispered.

"Oh."

A pause.

"Someone you needed to run away from?"

I nodded wordlessly, my eyes still shut.

"...Who was it?"

I opened my eyes, and looked up at Yotsuba. At the flurry of emotions that were dancing across her face, like cherry blossoms dancing in a storm. A hint of concern. A wisp of fear. A sliver of curiosity.

Beneath it all, that look.

That expression.

That unreadable expression.

An expression that, deep within my chest, I knew wasn't unreadable at all.

"...My ex."

--------------

A/N: Well, it's a few days late for Yotsuba day (just like last year...), but here it is! A mysterious black-haired girl... who could it be?

This chapter took a lot longer than I'd have liked; I finished the final chapter of my Fuutarou/Itsuki fic "A Sonata of Solitude" at the beginning of April (the editing of which ate up a surprising amount of my time for an ostensibly complete fic!), and then almost immediately went to travel to visit family. That said, I'm hoping to squeeze out a few more chapters in the next couple of months, ideally at a higher pace. My favourite hockey team just got absolutely humiliated, so maybe I can funnel all that angst into getting chapters out a little faster!

Thanks for reading!