Cover High/Pekora
Chapter 4: We’re With You, You Goddamn Rabbit!
Night hangs over the slumbering town. Thick, moisture-gravid clouds have blotted out the stars, glowing with a faint yellowish hue from the many lights shining down below. The cicadas have fallen silent, only to make way for the chirping of untold numbers of crickets, their high-pitched song serving as a constant reminder of summer’s unceasing approach. But their cries can’t reach you within the safety of your room, the window shut tight to muffle all outside noise. Within your haven, the only ambient sounds are the low hum of the A/C unit, and the faint scratching of sharpened graphite against paper.
Your pencil flits across the worksheet, scrawling out an unending stream of numbers and symbols. The page is steadily filling up with quadratic bullshit that you can only hope will satisfy your math teacher. Algebra’s enough of a pain in the ass already, but in your current drained state, solving each problem feels like a truly herculean task. Yet despite your exhaustion, you force yourself to keep working. This shit needs to get done. The last thing you want is for unfinished homework to nag at the back of your mind tomorrow. You’ll need one-hundred percent of your focus for the task ahead; starting the moment you wake up, helping Pekora is going to be your top priority.
Bzzz.
Your hyper-fixation is interrupted by the sound of your phone vibrating against the surface of your desk. The screen lights up to display a LINE notification hovering over your lock screen wallpaper. The sender’s name catches your attention instantly: Moona is finally getting back to you. Hastily snatching the device off the table, you enter the unlock code and open the app.
‘How you holding up?’
‘Surviving. I just woke up.’
So she was asleep all day. Getting caught in an explosion is bound to take it out of you, so you can’t really blame her. While you’re busy contemplating how to respond, the telltale three-dot bubble of a message-in-progress appears on Moona’s side of the screen. It lingers for only a moment before a second message comes in.
‘How is Pekora?’
Hoo boy. Here we go. You start typing up a response, opting not to sugar-coat your words. Moona has always been honest with you, almost to a fault. You’ll extend her the same courtesy.
‘Very bad. And very arrested.’
The message is barely up for three seconds before your phone starts to thrum rhythmically in your hand, the incoming-call screen forcibly closing the chatbox. Moona’s deadpan face stares at you from her user icon. Your thumb taps the Accept button and you put the phone to your ear.
Moona’s words are brief and to-the-point. “Tell me what happened.”
“Don’t waste time, do you?”
“Please.” Her urgent tone isn’t lost on you. She’s clearly worried about her friend, and rightly so.
Inhaling deeply, you sigh through your nose. “Alright. This might take a while.”
And so you find yourself, for the third time, expounding on the circumstances of Pekora’s arrest. The heartache that you felt the first two times has become dulled; thanks in no small part to your time spent with Marine, you’ve become able to emotionally distance yourself from the memory and look at the events calmly and clinically.
“Dammit…” The pain in Moona’s voice is unmistakable. “I had a feeling the Oozora Police would come for her, but…to think it would happen like that…”
“That jackass was way out of line. If Subaru hadn’t shown up when she did, there probably would’ve been a fight.” One that you almost certainly would have lost. But you weren’t exactly thinking straight at the time.
“If I’d been there,” the girl replies, a hint of anger in her tone, “there definitely would have been a fight.”
“What, with those injuries?”
“My right side works just fine.”
Your eyes roll. You could point out that she could barely stand back then, but this conversation is already dangerously close to going off on a tangent. “Anyways, that’s about it for what happened after we dropped you off.”
There’s a sigh on the other side of the line. “It sounds terrible…”
“Well…” You hesitate for a moment, but ultimately decide to keep going. “There’s more.”
“Oh no.”
“Yeah...I, uh, I went to see her after school.”
“And…?” Moona asks apprehensively.
She’s definitely not going to like what you’re about to say. But you’ve already decided to be candid, and you may as well commit to it.
So you tell her the truth.
“She said what?!” Moona’s abrupt shout causes you to reflexively pull your ear away from the receiver. “No, that’s…she – she can’t! She can’t leave!”
The outburst completely blindsides you. Moona has always been calm and collected, at least around you. This is the most emotional you’ve ever seen (or rather, heard) her. Never in a million years would you have expected her to get this upset. “Moona…?”
“She can’t leave!” the girl repeats in desperation. “I-I need to see her! Talk some sense into her!”
“I…I don’t think you should be up and moving around.”
“You think I care?! I’ll crawl there if I have to!”
Shit, this isn’t good. If you don’t talk her down, she may end up doing something reckless. “Moona.” You speak firmly, trying to wrangle your panicking friend. “Think about this for a second. Do you really think that showing up the way you are right now is going to help Pekora feel better?”
“I need to do something!”
“You need to rest.”
“I can’t go through this again!”
Moona’s anguished cry makes your heart sink. Even over the phone, you can hear her voice wavering as what little composure she has left collapses. “I already have to say goodbye to one friend! I can’t do it twice in a row! I can’t! I don’t…!” Her rant is starting to lose steam, the force steadily draining from her words. “I-I don’t…” A choked sob drifts out of the receiver. The girl forces out one last sentence, little more than an agonized whimper. “I don’t want to lose her too…”
All you can do is sit there and listen to your friend’s faint crying while you process what she just said. Moona lost a friend. Or is going to lose one. This is starting to recontextualize that sad look in her eyes when she talked about going separate ways earlier. Could this have to do with the student who’s transferring out at the end of the month? You can remember Pekora mentioning that. If it’s someone Moona is close to, of course she’d be upset. And then to find out that yet another person she cares about is thinking of doing the same thing…Was telling her about this really the right choice?
No. This is no time to beat yourself up. What matters right now is that your friend is hurting. Marine helped you when you were at your lowest; when you were feeling weak and helpless and lost, someone was there for you to tell you that you aren’t alone. Now you need to pay it forward.
“Hey...” Taking a page out of the corsair’s book, you speak in the gentlest tone you can muster. “Listen...I know you’re in a bad place right now. And I know you probably feel useless. A few hours ago, that was me. But I don’t want you to give up hope just yet. I talked with Marine today, and we’re gonna meet up tomorrow to come up with a plan.”
You hear a sniffle on the other side of the line. “Marine…?”
“Yeah. And it won’t just be us. She mentioned something about a…‘crew.’ I have no idea what that means, but I’m assuming it has to do with getting more people involved. If we all think about this together, we can find a way to convince Pekora not to leave. I know we can.” You have no choice but to believe that.
The phone is silent for a few moments. “…Is…Is there any way I can help?” Slowly but surely, Moona seems to be getting ahold of herself. Your words of assurance may actually be working for once.
“Right now, the best thing you can do is take care of yourself. Once you’re feeling better, we’ll be more than happy to bring you into the fold. But until then, have some faith in us. Okay?”
“…Okay…” You can sense the reluctance in her voice. Obviously she’d want to do something to contribute.
Suddenly, an idea comes to mind. You roll with it. “Tell you what. If you’re awake when lunchtime rolls around, you can give me a call. I’ll put you on speakerphone so you can participate in the meeting. It’ll be like a teleconference.”
“Y…Yeah. Good idea.”
“But don’t force yourself,” you warn her. “If you feel like you need to rest, then rest. The more time you give your body to heal, the faster you can join us in person.”
Despite her unsteady voice, Moona lets out a weak chuckle. “Okay, Mom...”
“Hey, at least call me Dad.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
The light-hearted exchange fills you with relief. Moona is returning to her usual cheeky self. By some miracle, you’ve successfully managed to calm your friend down. Good job, you. “I’ll let you get your R&R now. Take it easy, alright?”
“Alright.” There’s a brief pause before she speaks up again. “…Thanks, Transfer Student.”
“Don’t mention it. Just keep on keeping on. You, me, and Pekora? We’re all gonna make it.”
“…Yeah.” She echoes your words. “We’re gonna make it.”
You tap the End-Call button and set your phone down. That conversation was…quite a ride. For the second time today, you’ve heard one of your friends cry. But despite how grim things got, the exchange has only served to further incense your fighting spirit. Moona’s going to be counting on you tomorrow, and you don’t plan on letting her down. The resolve that Marine instilled in you is burning brighter than ever. You can do this. You have to do this.
With newfound vigor, you snatch up your pencil and get back to work. Time to make this algebra homework your bitch.
~~~~~
Tuesday
You stare absent-mindedly out the window while your hands rub together to lather the soap against your skin. Droplets of water dot the surface of the glass pane, making their slow descent towards the windowsill. Occasionally two globules of the fallen rain will wander too close to each other and conjoin into a single mass, rapidly streaking down the glass and leaving a thin rivulet of moisture in its wake. Even through the transparent barrier, you can hear the muffled pitter-patter of rainfall, punctuated intermittently by distant rumbles of thunder. It’s been going on like this since well before you woke up. And judging by this morning’s weather forecast, it’s not going to be letting up any time soon. Not that you particularly mind. There’s a certain tranquility to rainy days. And they tend to get those FUCKING CICADAS to shut up for a while.
“Any idea when she’ll be here?” asks a voice at your side. Taking your gaze off of the sea of gray beyond the glass, you look over at the boy standing at the faucet adjacent to yours. Unlike your own inelegant wringing, Astel is working the soap onto his hands with practiced finesse, dutifully cleaning the backs of his hands, the gaps between his fingers, the undersides of his nails, and the crooks of his thumbs.
“No clue,” you answer. “All she said was to meet up for lunch. Didn’t give an exact time frame.” The two of you stand at the hallway sink just outside the cafeteria, waiting to rendezvous with Marine and her ‘crew.’ As you turn on the faucet to rinse, there are no hidden squirt guns or secret compartments loaded with water balloons to interrupt you. With Pekora out of action, you haven’t suffered a single prank all day. And you can’t believe how lonely that feels. You’ve cursed that rabbit’s name to the ends of the earth, and now that she’s gone, you just want her to hurry up and come back.
“How many people do you think she’ll bring?” Astel turns on his own faucet and starts to wash the suds from his hands, your two waterfalls of soapy water spilling into the basin and washing down the drain.
“I dunno. Three? Four? The more the better, honestly.” You shake your hands, flicking excess water into the basin. Upon shutting the faucet, you pick up your favorite hand towel and start to dry yourself off. The fluffy white material warms you in more ways than one. “Though I’ll settle for more than zero.”
“More than zero sounds good.”
With your hands now satisfactorily dry, you step away from the sink. “You sure you want to get involved in this? I know you and Pekora aren’t exactly friends.” You can count the number of times you’ve even seen the two of them in the same room on one hand. And the number of times they’ve exchanged words on one finger.
The boy just shrugs while he dries his hands. “Hey, she’s your friend. And Moona’s. If this is something important to you guys, then I want to help.”
What did you do to deserve a friend like this guy? “Thanks, man.”
“Ahoooy!”
And there she is, right on schedule. The two of you turn your heads towards the chipper voice to see Marine approaching at a brisk trot, waving her hand excitedly. And to your pleasant surprise, you see not one, not two, but three figures following in her wake.
The nearest is a petite girl with neck-length aquamarine hair. A pair of neatly-styled hair buns adorn the sides of her head, decorated with a dark blue ribbon on one side and a matching scrunchie with attached skull ornament on the other. Her blue dress reaches down to her thighs, with detached sleeves to expose her bare shoulders and a diamond-shaped cleavage cutout to expose…not much of anything, to be frank. A pair of butterflies with vibrant turquoise wings are emblazoned on the front of her skirt, and with the matching winglike pattern on her long sleeves and bustline, she almost looks like a butterfly herself. A supernatural light shines in her deep red eyes as they study you with an almost discomforting interest.
Close behind her are two more girls walking side-by-side, hands interlocked. On the left is a mature-looking girl with short silver hair, two locks braided and tied back with blue ribbons. Her green eyes peek out shyly from behind the frames of her glasses, a look of unease coloring her features. Wrapped around her neck is a black choker with a blue snowflake gem dangling from the front. In contrast to the first girl’s rather unique appearance, this one is dressed far more casually in a white off-shoulder sweater and dark-brown checked skirt. She wouldn’t stick out at all in a crowd if it weren’t for her…‘singular endowments.’
And on the right, you see a girl with olive skin, reddish-orange eyes and straight blonde hair that reaches down just past her shoulders. Her long and pointy ears immediately identify her as one of elven ancestry. You’ve known that there are elves enrolled at this school, but this is your first time meeting one in person. And all things considered, she actually looks pretty normal. Much like the girl at her side, her choice in clothing is modest and unassuming; her gray striped dress with white sailor collar wouldn’t look too out of place in a regular high school. Also like the girl at her side, she’s wearing a black choker, though hers is decorated with a golden ornament in the shape of a ship’s helm. One way in which she differs from her companion, however, is how she carries herself. Unlike the silver-haired girl’s guarded, almost timid demeanor, the elf appears far more relaxed, giving you a silent nod of affirmation as your eyes meet.
So, this is Marine’s reputed ‘crew.’ Looking at all four of them together, they make for quite the striking ensemble. A pirate LARPer, a diminutive butterfly girl, a buxom young lady, and a dark-skinned elf. What a colorful cast of characters.
“Hey Mari—gck!“ You start to greet the approaching buccaneer, only for your words to catch in your throat as she sidles right up and throws an arm around you, pulling you into a tight side-hug.
“Transfer Student!” Marine exclaims as she gives you a squeeze. Through the fabric of your sleeve, you detect the tactile sensation of the side of her chest pressing up against your arm. “So glad you could make it!”
“Oh what the hell, Marine?!” Mentally unprepared for the sudden act of skinship, you find yourself caught completely off-guard. And the presence of so many people is definitely not helping. You can already feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “Can’t you just greet me normally?!”
“What do you mean?” she asks in feigned confusion. “This is normal.”
“For you, maybe!”
“Yeah! For me!” This girl is a walking sexual-harassment complaint. Her kind behavior yesterday may have warmed you to her a bit, but now you’re starting to remember why you’ve been giving her a wide berth all this time. Ignoring your discomfort, Marine glances over at Astel. “Who’s your cute friend?”
Taken aback, the boy just blinks in response. “Uh.”
“His name is Astel,” you grunt as you free your arm from between yourself and her, at last wriggling out of her grasp. “He wants to help out.”
“I mean…if you’ll have me,” he tentatively appends.
With her original prey freed from her clutches, Marine turns her attention to your increasingly-nervous looking friend. “Of course!” she chimes with a wink and a finger to her lips. “I can always use an extra set of strong hands.”
“Uhhh…” The boy’s eyes dart back and forth between the red-haired girl and you, as if silently begging for rescue. Ultimately however, his savior would be someone else entirely.
“Are you finished?” comes a voice from aside. The short-statured butterfly girl is eyeing Marine with arms crossed and one foot tapping impatiently against the linoleum floor. She appears thoroughly unamused.
“Huh?” Knocked off her stride, Marine glances over at the girl. “O-Oh. Right.” Apparently remembering what she came here to do, the girl’s cheeks flush with embarrassment as she self-consciously straightens her posture and clears her throat. “Introductions.” Her gloved hand motions to the trio in front of you. “Transfer Student, these are my friends.” She first indicates the petite green-haired girl. “The pipsqueak over there is Rushia.”
The girl now identified as Rushia’s eye twitches, her scowl only twisting further. “Call me that again and see what happens.” But the moment her attention shifts from Marine over to you, her grim expression switches to a bright smile. The change is as abrupt as flipping channels on a TV. “It’s nice to meet you.” Pinching the skirt of her dress between her fingers, she bobs a curtsy to you. “I hope we can get along.”
It could be her short stature, baby-face, gentle voice, or a combination of some or all of the above, but something about this tiny girl is ridiculously endearing. She’s like a kitten. You almost want to pet her. “Nice to meet you too.”
Marine’s hand wanders in the direction of the bespectacled, silver-haired girl. “And this is Noel.”
“H-Hello…” Her greeting is hesitant and nervous, her gaze turned away from yours. She’s clearly uncomfortable. Maybe she’s shy around strangers like Pekora is? It’s hard to blame her, honestly; those ‘assets’ have probably earned her a fair amount of unwanted attention.
“Hi,” you say simply. With how uneasy she looks, you’d wager that the less you try to talk to her, the better.
The pirate gestures towards the blonde elf. “And Flare.”
“Yo,” she says with a wave of her hand. Compared to the eccentric Marine, the adorable Rushia, and the timid Noel, the words that seem to best describe this girl are ‘older sister.’ She certainly comes across as the most laid-back of the group, greeting you casually despite this being your first meeting. “I was wondering when we’d get to see that rabbit’s beau. Nice to finally meet the elusive Transfer Student.”
“Uh, actually my real name is-“
“Atututut.” Marine’s finger presses against your lips to shush you. “If we learned your name before Pekora, there’d be hell to pay for all of us.”
“Mph!” You pull back from her touch. This girl just has no respect for your boundaries. “Would you cut that out?!”
“Cut what out?” she asks, hanging her head to the side.
“Invading my personal space, that’s what!”
The pirate girl sticks out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout. “Aww, why are you so cold all of a sudden? I didn’t hear any complaining when you were making use of my thighs yesterday.”
Oh no.
The hallway’s atmosphere changes instantly. Rushia’s warm smile has vanished, an unnatural shadow hanging over her face. The red eyes that had been shining so brightly not moments ago have fallen dark, boring into you with an intensity that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. In the blink of an eye, the adorable kitten in front of you has morphed into a monster. “What’s she talking about?” Her calm and soft voice only serves to make the murderous look in her eyes all the more overbearing. “Hey. Transfer Student.” As she takes a single step in your direction, you find yourself reflexively taking a step back. “What is she talking about?”
“And here I thought he only had eyes for Pekora.” Though seemingly unperturbed by Marine’s remark, Flare seems all too happy to throw more fuel on the fire with a smile on her face. “Guess we’ve got a playboy on our hands.”
“Are we sure we can entrust our friend to him?” Noel asks, eyeing you warily.
“Context, people!” This misunderstanding needs to be cleared up before you end up in a ditch on the side of the road. “I didn’t ‘make use’ of her thighs! I was just upset about Pekora, and she helped me feel better!”
…That didn’t help your case at all, did it?
“I’ll bet she did,” Flare snickers.
“How lecherous,” Noel mutters.
Rushia silently takes another step forward.
No it did not. “Marine, quit goofing around and tell them that nothing inappropriate happened!”
“It was such an intimate moment.” The pirate girl wraps her arms around herself, a wistful smile on her blushing face. “He laid bare all of his darkest thoughts to me. And in the middle of the hallway too! My skirt was completely soaked by the end…”
“There are several things wrong with that description!”
The pressure is becoming unbearable. Flare is having a hearty laugh at your expense, Noel can’t even look you in the eyes, and Rushia looks like she’s about two seconds away from stabbing you. Less than five minutes you’ve known these girls, and your reputation is already crashing through the bottom of the gutter and burrowing into the bedrock underneath. Thanks, Marine.
“Hey, uh, sorry to interrupt, but…” Everyone’s heads turn at the sound of Astel’s voice. “Weren’t we going to talk about how to help Pekora or something?”
It’s as if you were thrown a lifebuoy while drowning. You wordlessly thank your friend from the bottom of your soul for his timely intervention. “We were,” you answer, leaping at the opportunity to change the subject. “And lunch period isn’t going to last forever, so I suggest we hurry up.” You settle an annoyed glare on Marine. “If you’re done with the character assassination, that is.”
The girl meets your cold look with a grin and a snicker. “I think I’m good.” Fucking wannabe pirate.
“Well, let’s go then!” A cheery voice rings out from right in front of you. Whipping your head towards the alarmingly-close noise, you see Rushia’s smiling face beaming up at you. The overwhelming pressure of her death-glare has completely vanished as though it was never there to begin with, a radiant smile once more coloring her features. It’s like this girl can leap from adorable to pants-shittingly terrifying and back again with all the ease of flipping a switch. You make a mental note to never make her angry. Ever again.
“Yeah, let’s get to it,” Flare agrees. “If we dawdle too long, we won’t be able to find a table with enough open seats.”
“Speaking of which…” Noel glances at the doors to the cafeteria. “Has anyone actually gone inside this whole time we’ve been talking?”
Silence hangs between the six of you. With all of the antics going on, none of you had noticed. But there hasn’t been any foot-traffic outside the cafeteria. The normally-bustling location is completely deserted. At lunch period. A looming sense of dread settles over you. And judging by your companions’ pale complexions, the implications have dawned on them as well.
“Uh oh,” Marine murmurs as she tentatively approaches the doorway. The rest of you crowd around her rear, filled with apprehension yet pushed forward by sheer morbid curiosity. As the red-haired girl reaches out and cracks open the door, you all peer inside.
A thick, foul miasma hangs heavily in the air beyond the threshold, wafting out through the opening and filling your nostrils with a putrid stench that almost makes you vomit on the spot. The inside of the cafeteria is a warzone, the bodies of those foolhardy enough to venture inside strewn about the tables like rotting corpses upon a battlefield. It’s a horrific scene that you wish you could say you’ve never seen before. But you know full well what manner of tragedy has taken place here, and who is responsible. Your gaze passes over the rows of tables dotted with collapsed students to settle upon the blonde, eyepatch-clad girl manning the food stations.
Marine slowly closes the door and turns to the rest of you. “We should go to the school shop.”
“Agreed.” “We should.” “Yeah let’s go do that.” “Good idea.” “Definitely, definitely.”
~~~~~
The bite of anpan melts in your mouth and washes down your throat with a swig of your drink. It tastes good enough, but such a paltry meal couldn’t exactly be called filling. By the time you and your companions had made it to the ‘school shop,’ really more of a small kiosk that sells assorted breads and other lunch items, most of the student body with any amount of self-preservation instinct had all but cleaned the place out. Ultimately you were all forced to settle for whatever was left. And in your case, that meant a single sweet-bean bun and a carton of skim(!) milk. You’re definitely going to be asking for seconds at dinner tonight.
Once you had all purchased your meagre lunches, the next issue became finding a place to actually eat them. The cafeteria was ruled out as a matter of course, the roof wasn’t an option either due to the rain, and you couldn’t exactly waltz in and take over one of the classrooms. But some quick thinking on your part led the six of you to a functional, if unorthodox, dining location: the engineering clubroom. Your suggestion had earned a few raised eyebrows at first, but the deserted workshop turned out to offer a fair amount of privacy, letting everyone speak without the usual reservations one would have in a crowded cafeteria. Now seated around a pair of unused workbenches that had been pushed together to form a makeshift table, the six of you chip away at your food.
It isn’t long before you feel the vibration of your phone going off in your pocket. A quick glance at the device confirms an incoming call from Moona. Seems she was able to wake up in time for the meeting after all. Tapping the Accept button, you hold the phone up to your ear. “Hey.”
“Hey.” The girl’s voice is back to its usual calm, fully recovered from the events of last night. “Am I late?”
“Nah, we were just about to start. Hope you don’t mind, we kinda commandeered your clubroom.”
“Well, I mean, it’s not really my clubroom.”
“You’re the only active member. It’s your clubroom.”
“…Fair enough.”
Tapping the speakerphone button, you set the phone down on the workbench. “Moona’s here,” you announce.
““““Hey Moonaaa!”””” The four girls call out in unison, mimicking Pekora’s usual cheery greeting for her starry-haired friend.
“Hello everyone,” she calls back from the other side of the line. “Sorry I couldn’t make it in person.”
“Don’t worry about it,” replies Flare “Take your time and heal up.”
“How are you feeling?” Noel asks.
“Not dead yet. Good enough to talk over the phone, at least. Who all’s here?”
“The usual four of us.” Rushia’s gaze darts over to you and your blue-haired buddy. “Plus the transfer student and his seaweed-looking friend.”
“Astel,” the boy corrects her.
While the others busy themselves with their little exchange, you take a moment to look over the crowd gathered around the table. For the longest time, you’d been under the impression that you and Moona were Pekora’s only friends. To think that she’d had this many people who care about her all along. This seemingly-hopeless situation might not be so hopeless after all.
“So, we ready to get started?” you ask, raring to go.
“Yup, looks like the gang’s all here.” Rising from her seat, Marine clears her throat. “Now then.” In an instant, her demeanor completely shifts, her posture straightening and her features hardening into a serious and determined expression. “The first meeting of the Rabbit Rescue Coalition will now come to order.”
‘Rabbit Rescue Coalition’? The hell kind of name is that?
“Our mission is to assist our mutual friend Usada Pekora with her current unfortunate situation, and lift her spirits by any means necessary.” The twin-tailed girl speaks with surprising authority; in this moment, the pirate-cosplaying weirdo projects the air of a no-nonsense office worker conducting an important meeting. “Rushia, Flare, Noel, I trust that you all read the summary of events I posted on Discord?”
“Front to back,” Flare answers with a nod, the other two mirroring the gesture.
“Good. Since everyone is up to speed on the situation, we can save some time explaining.” Marine’s statement makes you let out a sigh of relief. The role of said explanation would have almost undoubtedly fallen to you, and you are so sick of retelling that fucking story. “Now,” she continues as she holds up three fingers, “at the moment there seem to be three major obstacles that the coalition will have to address in order to achieve its goals.” Two of the fingers curl, leaving only her index finger. “Article one: Pekora has been arrested following the accident yesterday morning, and is currently being held in Oozora Police custody. Whether there will be further punishment for her involvement, and what said punishment will be, remains unknown.”
Noel raises her hand. “Aren’t they just going to keep her locked up for a bit and then release her? Pekora gets arrested for her pranks all the time, and the worst Subaru’s ever done is make her spend a night or two in the school jail.” As shy as she was towards you, the bespectacled girl seems to become a fair bit more talkative when addressing her friends.
“Normally you’d be right,” says the dark-skinned elf next to her, “but this isn’t exactly a normal situation. Pekora’s pranks may cause a bit of mayhem, but they’ve never actually gotten anyone hurt before.”
“Flare’s right,” Rushia agrees, “we shouldn’t assume that Subaru will handle this the same way she usually does. This is probably a step or two above what she’s used to dealing with. I wouldn’t be surprised if she were struggling to figure out what to do even as we speak.”
You weigh in on the discussion. “We can’t rule out the possibility of the administration getting involved either. An incident like this affects the entire school. The fallout could put Cover High’s reputation in danger.”
Moona’s voice drifts out of your phone. “If they end up taking jurisdiction away from Subaru, Pekora may be looking at a way worse punishment than a couple of days in a cell.”
“But, I mean, this isn’t her fault, right?” Everyone turns to Astel as he speaks up. “The only reason Moona got hurt is because the safety ward was turned off. It’s not like Pekora knew that was going to happen when she set up the prank.”
“That’s true,” Moona agrees, “but it doesn’t exactly absolve her of guilt when it comes to disciplinary measures. The administration could potentially use her as a scapegoat in order to cover their own asses.”
“’A student recklessly ignored our words of caution and engaged in behavior that endangered her fellow students.’” Rushia reads off an imagined statement from the school. “Something like that?”
“So you’re saying that they’re just going to throw Pekora under the bus in order to save face?” Noel asks apprehensively.
“I’m saying it’s a non-zero possibility,” the digitized voice clarifies.
You can see the nervous looks in everyone’s eyes. This is only the first hurdle, and it’s already shaping up to be a perilous one. Depending on how events unfold, you could end up having to contend with the school administration itself. What will you do if it comes to that? What can you do?
“Look.” Flare breaks the uneasy silence. “We could speculate about this all day, but it doesn’t get us any closer to finding a solution. If we need insight into how Pekora’s punishment is going to be handled, why don’t we go talk to Subaru? She’s bound to know more about this than we do.”
Shit, that’s actually a really good idea. As the chief of the Oozora Police, no-one is more qualified to advise you on the situation than her. “Any idea where we can find her?” you ask.
Marine enlightens you: “She tends to spend most of her after-school time at the precinct.”
“The…precinct?”
“That’s what everyone calls it,” she explains. “Really it’s just an unused clubroom that Subaru got permission to turn into the Oozora Police’s headquarters.”
Huh. ‘The precinct.’ How apt. “Alright, we’ll pay her a visit after school then.”
“Maybe only one or two of you should go,” Moona suggests. “All six of you showing up at once seems like a bit much.”
“Fair point.” Marine looks at the rest of you. “Any volunteers?”
“I can go.” You raise your hand. “Visiting hours start after school, and I’m guessing you four are gonna want to go see Pekora together.”
“Hit the nail on the head,” Flare responds with a nod. “We’ll leave the duck to you, then.”
‘The duck’?
“I can go with,” Astel offers. “Dunno how much help I’ll be, but I’d hate to be the only one not doing anything.”
The voice on the phone loudly clears its throat.
“…Right,” he says sheepishly. “Sorry.”
“Sure, you can come too,” you say with a nod. “We can let the girls handle that rabbit while we deal with the cops.” Slowly but surely, your plan of attack is beginning to take shape. It isn’t much yet, but it’s a step in the right direction. “So.” Your attention turns to Marine. “Article two?”
“Article two.” The redhead holds up two fingers. “Talk of yesterday’s accident is all over the school, and people have started to spread malicious rumors about Pekora’s involvement. Her reputation among the student body runs the risk of becoming permanently stained if we leave this alone.”
“You say that, but what are we supposed to do?” Noel asks. “It’s not like we can hunt down all the students responsible.”
“I can try,” Rushia suggests, almost too eagerly.
“Easy there,” warns Flare. “Even if we somehow did manage to find the original sources and shut them up, it wouldn’t fix the problem. People would just keep talking about it anyways. Probably even moreso if they knew that someone was trying to stop the rumor from spreading.”
You drum your fingers against the surface of the workbench as you ponder to yourself. Astel said something similar yesterday, and you’re no closer to coming up with a good solution to the dilemma than you were back then. As unfortunate as it is to admit, it’s just as they say. Trying to stamp out the narrative would have the opposite effect, only making people all the more convinced that the story is true. And quarantining the so-called ‘patient zero’ wouldn’t halt the spread of the disease. Once a rumor’s grown big enough, it takes on a life of its own and becomes practically unstoppable.
…Once a rumor has grown big enough…
Wait a minute…that’s it! Clenching your drumming fingers into a fist, you look up from the improvised table. “What if we spread a rumor of our own?”
The discussion dies down as every set of eyes in the room falls upon you. Moona’s muffled voice is the first to break the silence. “Say what?”
“Well, think about it,” you elaborate. “We can’t get rid of a rumor that already exists. But maybe we can drown it out with a new rumor. One that’s beneficial to us.”
The others exchange glances with each other, seemingly mulling the idea over. “A rumor that’s beneficial to us.” Flare speaks those words as if testing them out, getting a feel for them. “I mean, it sounds like it could work, but what would a rumor like that even look like?”
You don’t have an answer to that. Truth be told, you hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I’m open to suggestions.”
“Hm.” Noel rubs her chin in deep thought. “The rumor right now is that Pekora is responsible for the accident, right?”
“It gets a bit more slanderous than that, but yes,” Marine confirms, “that’s the abridged version. The school’s initial statement about the accident didn’t mention her, but a lot of people saw her at the scene. And her arrest hasn’t gone unnoticed either.”
“Well, um…” The bespectacled girl looks among the rest of you. “What if we spread a rumor that she isn’t responsible?”
The pirate blinks…presumably. Hard to tell with that eyepatch. “What, like the explosion was caused by someone else? And Pekora being there was just happenstance?”
“Exactly!”
“I don’t know if people would buy it,” Astel comments with unease. “Besides, if we pinned the blame on someone else at the school, we’d just be throwing an innocent person to the wolves.”
“What about someone not at this school?” Rushia, who up to now had been sitting silently with her fingers steepled in front of her, finally speaks up. Her words successfully steal everyone’s attention, moving the spotlight over to her.
Flare raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
The petite girl answers the elf’s question with another question. “Doesn’t it seem awfully convenient that an explosion just happened to go off mere minutes after the safety ward was deactivated? An explosion that injured a student and could jeopardize the whole school’s reputation?”
You eye her curiously. “Well, I mean, it was a pretty unfortunate coincidence, but…where are you going with this?”
“I think she’s saying that it wasn’t a coincidence at all,” Moona predicts.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Rushia’s mouth curls into a grin. “That explosion was no accident. It happened because someone wanted it to happen. Someone, or someones who would stand to benefit from the school’s resulting loss of face. That’s what we’ll claim, at least.”
Marine tilts her head. “But who would benefit from that?”
The butterfly girl’s diabolical grin widens, lips parting to bare her teeth. “Who else? Cover High’s sworn enemy.”
A look of dawning realization passes over the faces of everyone in the room. “You don’t mean…” Flare murmurs.
“That’s right.” Rushia interlinks her fingers and leans forward in her seat. “Nijisanji Academy.”
The name is immediately familiar; even a newcomer like you knows of the ongoing feud between Cover High and Nijisanji Academy. The two schools are constantly competing with one another at pretty much everything, from regional sports championships to academic awards to art fairs. Their bitter rivalry is the stuff of legend, easily dwarfing your own paltry rivalry with Pekora by several degrees of magnitude.
“Nijisanji…” Flare repeats the name to herself. “Do you really think people would believe it?”
Noel shrugs her shoulders. “Why not? A lot of students here will take any opportunity they can find to hate on that school. If they started to hear that yesterday’s ‘accident’ was caused by their rivals trying to fight dirty, they’d probably eat it up and ask for seconds.”
Astel nods in agreement. “Makes for one hell of a story, I gotta admit.”
“And the PA announcement did say that the safety ward was being deactivated due to a malfunction,” adds the voice from your phone. “We could easily claim it was an act of sabotage.”
“Ooh ooh!” Marine leans forward excitedly. “We can even say that Pekora was set up to take the fall in order to cover the real culprit’s tracks! It’d explain why she was at the scene!”
“Okay, so let me see if I’ve got this right,” you interject, holding up one hand to halt the discussion. “We’re going to counter the rumors about Pekora…by spreading a rumor that what happened yesterday was orchestrated by a rival school…as part of a grand conspiracy to ruin Cover High’s image.”
“Precisely,” answers Rushia.
That is quite possibly the most ridiculous, over-the-top plan you’ve ever heard. It’s preposterous. It’s absurd. It’s completely insane.
“It’s perfect.”
Marine lets out a hearty laugh, her hands on her hips. “Guess we’re in agreement, then! We should start spreading it right away. The sooner we get it circulating amongst the student body, the better.”
“Sounds good to me.” Flare’s gaze flits between her three female companions. “The four of us can probably handle the female students. But the male students are another matter.” The elf looks over at you and Astel. “Think you boys can handle it?”
“I know some guys who can help, yeah,” your blue-haired friend answers confidently.
“I don’t have much in the way of friends, but I’ll see what I can do.” Your response isn’t quite as confident.
“Thanks, you two,” comes Moona’s voice from your phone. “I’ll get in touch with some friends on my end as well.”
“Alright.” Marine claps her hands together, drawing everyone’s attention to her. “Now that that’s settled, I think we’re ready to move on to article three. Which is…” The cheerfulness starts to fade from her voice, “in my opinion, the most important of them all.”
You have a pretty good idea of what she’s going to say next. Your jaw tightens.
“What happened yesterday,” she continues in a somber tone, “took a heavy toll on Pekora. She’s become convinced that she’s a burden on the people of this school. On her friends. On us. She thinks that we would all be better off without her. And this has led her to consider transferring out of Cover High.”
Sorrow colors everyone’s faces as they listen to the girl speak. Anyone could tell at a glance that nobody in this room would be ‘better off’ without Pekora. Even you, who had suffered so much irritation thanks to that rabbit’s antics, can feel your heart ache at the thought of never getting to see her again. Of your nemesis fading into ever-more-distant memory, until one day you can’t even remember the sound of her laughter, or the warmth of her smile.
Marine slowly turns her head, eyeing each of the people seated around the workbenches in turn. “We can deal with the rumors. We can deal with the police. We can even deal with the school administration. But if we can’t prove Pekora wrong and convince her to change her mind, then it will all be for nothing. Above all else, our number-one priority is providing her with emotional support. Pekora needs us now more than ever, and we need to be there for her. All of us.”
“Damn right we’ll be there for her.” Flare is the first to speak up. “We haven’t been her friends all this time just to abandon her the moment things get rocky.”
“I still owe her some payback for that last punishment game,” says Noel. “There’s no way I’m letting her get away from that.”
“Bringing a rabbit back to life is child’s play for a necromancer.” For the briefest of moments, that terrifying intensity from earlier flashes in Rushia’s eyes. “And god help anyone who tries to get in my way.”
“As soon as I’m well enough, the first thing I’ll do is go see her.” Moona makes her solemn promise from afar. “And until then, I’ll do my best to help from home.”
“Pekora and I may not be friends,” Astel begins, “but even I know that this school wouldn’t be the same without her. I’ll help out however I can.”
One by one, everyone pledges their solidarity to the cause. Each voice further bolsters your resolve. You can still remember the feeling of hopelessness from yesterday, facing a seemingly-insurmountable obstacle all alone. And now you find yourself surrounded by friends and allies, some of whom would likely never interact with each other under normal circumstances, all brought together by their shared desire to help Pekora. You may just be one person, but with them? You’re part of a team. And you know that with their help, you’ll be able to accomplish what you couldn’t alone.
Your mouth widens into a grin as your confidence surges. “Let’s put a smile on that rabbit’s face.”
“Hm.” Marine nods as she lets out a satisfied grunt. “Well said, everyone. Unless anyone has anything to add, I think that pretty much wraps up our first meeting. We know what we have to do, so let’s get out there and do it!”
As the meeting winds down, you pick up your phone and take it off speaker mode, holding the gadget up to your ear. “Feeling a bit better now?” you ask.
“A lot better,” Moona replies. “Thanks for letting me join in.”
“No prob. Your input was a big help. The next meeting’s same time tomorrow, so give us a call if you can.”
“Will do. Talk to you then.”
“We’re gonna make it.”
“We’re gonna make it,” echoes your friend.
Lowering the phone from your head, you tap the End Call button. As the call screen closes, your eyes wander up the display.
…Uh oh.
“Uh, guys?”
The others halt their conversation, all eyes turning towards you. “What’s wro-?” Flare begins, only to freeze mid-sentence as you hold up the screen for everyone to see.
“Lunch period ended like ten minutes ago.”
~~~~~
“This is the place.”
You and Astel stand in front of one of the many doorways lining the hall. Just as he says, the door is emblazoned with the image of a winged shield containing the letters ‘OPD’. The plaque underneath reads: ‘OOZORA POLICE DEPARTMENT.’ Finding the so-called precinct turned out to be a simple affair; all you had to do was ask a patrolling deputy for directions, and he pointed you straight here. School had barely been out for ten minutes by the time you reached your destination.
Pushing open the door, you’re greeted by a room ripped straight out of a police procedural. Rows of desks loaded with paperwork, walls decorated with maps and cork-boards, and even a statue of the obligatory police mascot: a duck wearing a police hat. Flare’s off-handed comment earlier suddenly makes a lot more sense. Numerous deputies populate the room, busying themselves at their desks or talking amongst each other about important police business (probably). One of them mans the front desk, filling out some kind of form. At the sound of your and Astel’s approach, he lifts his head to reveal his face.
Oh great. This guy.
The burly deputy’s visage twists into a scowl. “You.”
“Deputy.” Faux geniality drips from your voice. “It’s been far too long. How’s that desk job been treating you?”
His grimace deepens. So your guess was right: this is his punishment for his behavior yesterday. Serves him right. “What. Do you want.”
“We’re here to see Subaru.”
The officer’s response is cold and dismissive, as expected. “The chief is busy.”
“That’s fine.” You refuse to back down. “We can wait.”
“She doesn’t have time to cater to the whims of every student who waltzes in here,” he growls. “Now get lost.”
“We’re not leaving without speaking to Subaru.”
“I said get lost-!”
“Ahem.” A loud clearing of the throat from across the room interrupts your heated exchange. The two of you turn your heads to see Subaru standing outside what you’re guessing is her ‘office’: a few room dividers set up in the corner of the clubroom to form a small private area. The short-haired girl’s arms are crossed, her eyes narrowed in a glare directed right at the deputy.
Your adversary starts to go pale under the pressure of her stare. Cringing in frustration, he lowers his head to hide his face. With a nod in your direction, Subaru disappears behind the dividers. “Go on in,” the deputy reluctantly mutters.
“Thank you,” you say with exaggerated politeness. Astel, having quietly watched the exchange from the sidelines, joins you as you head for Subaru’s office.
“Was that the guy?” he whispers, taking a quick glance back over his shoulder.
“That was the guy.”
“What a dick.”
“Mmhm.”
The inside of the ‘office’ is cramped and sparsely decorated. Filing cabinets line the walls, leaving little room for much else besides a single desk, its surface cluttered with stacks of papers, an open laptop computer, a nameplate, and a small figurine of the department’s avian mascot. Behind the desk sits Subaru, her police hat removed and left to hang on a nearby wall hook. Seeing her up close, it becomes readily apparent to you that the police girl isn’t having the best day; her short brown hair is disheveled, and dark rings have formed under her eyes. Taken in conjunction with the mountain of paperwork piled up on her desk, her unkempt appearance conjures to mind the image of a severely-overworked salaryman. Being the chief of the school police force is clearly a taxing job.
Subaru frustratedly massages the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger before rubbing them over her shut eyes. “Sorry about that back there,” she says as her hand falls back to her side, her raspy voice weary with exhaustion. “Transfer Student, right?” Oh come on. Even she’s going to call you that? “And…” Her cyan gaze hovers on your friend. “…uh…”
“Astel,” he clarifies.
“Astel. Got it. Come have a seat.” The haggard girl motions to the two chairs in front of the desk.
“Thanks for letting us in.” You sit down as instructed, your friend following suit. “We’ll try not to take too much of your time.” Judging by the state she’s in, she doesn’t have much to spare.
Subaru’s elbows rest atop the desk as she leans forward. “You’re here about Pekora, right?”
“Correct. Her friends are worried about what’s going to happen to her. We were hoping you could shed some light on that.”
The girl exhales through her nose. “That’s the million-yen question, isn’t it? I’ll be brief: not even I know the answer. A case like this is unprecedented. Nobody’s quite sure how to handle it.”
So Rushia’s prediction was right on the money. “I take it you’re not going to release her any time soon, then?”
Her head slowly shakes back and forth. “I wish I could, believe me. If it were up to me, she’d already be out. But I’ve been ordered to keep her detained until the administration can decide on a course of action. I’m sorry if that’s not what you were hoping to hear, but…my hands are tied.”
“Do you think they’re going to make Pekora take responsibility?” Astel asks.
Subaru’s face falls. “God, I hope not. I know as well as you do that she didn’t intend for any of this to happen. But the truth is, I just don’t know. The headmaster gets the final say in all of this, and if he decides to bring down the hammer on her, then even I won’t be able to do anything about it.”
This situation is proving to be even more grave than you initially thought. If Subaru’s authority has already been superseded by the powers that be, then Pekora’s fate is more precarious than ever. Going to the chief of the school police isn’t going to cut it; the helpless rabbit is at the mercy of none other than the head of the school himself.
Which means your next course of action is clear as day. “Then we’ll go to the headmaster.”
“Eh?” Your blue-haired companion looks over at you in surprise.
“What?” you ask as you meet his gaze. “If this goes all the way to the top, then that’s where we’re headed.”
“Hold on there, cowboy,” Subaru interrupts, holding up one hand. “The headmaster is a busy man. You may have been able to get an audience with me by just barging in unannounced, but that won’t fly with him. You’re going to need to set up an appointment.”
You click your tongue in frustration. Figures it wouldn’t be that easy. “Alright then, how do we do that?”
“Now that part, I may actually be able to help with.” Reaching under her desk, Subaru opens a drawer and starts fishing around inside while she talks. “You’ll want to head up to the second floor where all the administrative offices are. Talk to the school secretary and tell her you want to schedule a meeting.” Her hand slips out of the drawer, a business card pinched between her fingers. “She’ll take you more seriously if you show her this,” she says as she holds it out to you.
Accepting the card, you give it a once-over. ‘Oozora Subaru. Oozora Police Chief.’ It’s your typical business card, complete with contact information and a picture of the department mascot decorating one corner. You’re guessing this will serve as an indicator to the school secretary that you’re acting with the support of the chief of police. She’ll definitely be more willing to hear you out with something like this. “Got it. Thanks, Subaru.”
The police girl just shrugs her shoulders as she closes the drawer. “I don’t want Pekora to take the fall for this any more than you do. If you guys are looking to pull her out of the fire, then this is the least I can do.”
“Really. You’ve been a huge help.” Your respect for this girl just keeps on growing. She may be tough as nails, but she’s got a 24-karat heart.
“Heh…” For the first time since you walked in, a smile creeps its way across her tired face. “It’s good to know that Pekora’s got people out there looking out for her.”
Boy is it. The outpouring of support she’s getting is nothing short of incredible. From her ‘genmates,’ to Moona and Astel, to even the head of the school police. Everyone’s throwing in their lot with her. “I guess that rabbit’s as endearing as she is annoying.”
“You can say that again,” she replies, snickering to herself. “Now get out of here and go get that appointment.”
“Right, right. We did promise to be quick.” You and your friend rise from your seats. “Take it easy, alright?”
“And drink some coffee or something,” Astel jokingly adds.
“Yeah, yeah,” she says with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Good luck out there, you two.”
Parting words exchanged, you take your leave of the precinct, ignoring the death glare of the deputy at the front desk as you pass by. Despite the unfortunate revelation of the school administration’s meddling, your morale is holding steady. There’s no sense in ruminating or giving in to anxiety. You did enough of that yesterday. Just keep your eyes on the goal and put one foot in front of the other. Subaru gave you a lead, and now you need to follow up on it. “Alright,” you announce as the two of you step out into the hallway. “Next stop, the admin offices.”
“Actually,” Astel interjects, “why don’t you let me handle this part?”
“…Huh?” You look over at him in confusion.
“It’s visiting hours, right? You should pay Pekora a visit. I know you’ve been waiting all day to see her.”
He’s definitely not wrong. Marine and the girls went to visit her first thing after school, and you’re curious to see how the meeting turned out. And beyond that…you just want to see her again. The little brat’s only been gone for a day, and you already miss her. Hopefully her condition has improved at least a little since last time. “You sure you’re alright going solo?” you ask as you slip Subaru’s business card out of your pocket.
The boy gives you a confident grin. “Hey, I’ll have you know I can be very persuasive when I need to be. Getting that appointment will be easy. Hell, I’ll charm the secretary if I have to.”
“Pfft, yeah, okay.” Despite your cheeky tone, you don’t doubt for a moment that he’d be able to pull something like that off. Astel has his fair share of admirers at this school, male and female alike, and not without reason. He’s the perfect guy for a job like this. “I’ll leave it to you then,” you decide as you pass the card over to him.
“Awesome.” Astel tucks the card away. “I think I may have another idea too. Something we can do to cheer Pekora up.”
An idea to cheer Pekora up? Your curiosity is officially piqued. “What is it?”
“You’ll see,” he answers vaguely. “I’ll explain at the group meeting tomorrow. I think the others will like it.”
Well now you’re just even more curious. What manner of secret plan is your friend cooking up? “Guess I’ll look forward to it, then.”
“You do that. It’ll be worth the wait, trust me. Now…time for me to go work my magic.” The boy straightens his collar and takes a moment to comb down his messy hair with his fingertips. “How do I look?” he asks, framing his visage with his thumb and index finger in the shape of an L under his chin.
“Like weirdly-charming seaweed.”
“Perfect! Exactly what I was going for. That lady won’t know what hit her.” Turning to leave, Astel holds up one hand in a parting gesture. “I’m off, then. Have fun with the rabbit.”
“Will do,” you reply, mirroring the motion. “Good luck.”
And with that, the two of you go your separate ways: Astel towards the second floor, and you towards the main building. The plan is progressing smoothly. Arranging a meeting with the headmaster will put you one step closer to resolving the issue of Pekora’s punishment, and your team’s rumor is already being spread among the student body. Now it’s time to address the third and final objective: snapping your rival out of her stupor.
Arriving at the hallway where you had had your talk with Marine the previous day, you descend the stairs into the basement. Midway through navigating the well-lit corridors, you find yourself crossing paths with a familiar quartet of girls.
“Well look who it is!” Marine calls out cheerfully as she trots towards you. “And just in ti—ack!” Her voice cuts off as your hand shoots out to grab her by the forehead, halting her approach and keeping her at arm’s length.
“Personal space,” you warn her. She almost definitely would have gotten handsy with you again if you hadn’t stopped her.
“Gah!” The pirate’s arms frantically flail about, but her paltry strength isn’t enough to free herself. “Hey, let go!”
Your grip remains firm. “Per. So. Nal. Space.”
“Okay, okay, I get it! Personal space!” Her words of submission satisfy you, and her head is freed from your grasp. Marine lets out a frustrated grunt as she steps back and massages her forehead with her fingertips. “Sheesh. Why can’t you be more like you were yester-?”
“We are not repeating that bit.”
“You’re no fun,” she pouts.
Losing interest in the grumbling redhead, you shift your attention to her less aggravating companions. “So, how did it go with Pekora?”
“Well, she didn’t kick us out,” Flare offers hopefully.
“…That…is an improvement, I’ll admit.” Not a very big improvement, but an improvement nonetheless. “I’m guessing she hasn’t changed her mind yet?”
The three girls exchange crestfallen looks. That’s a ‘no’ then. “She’s being a bit stubborn,” Rushia admits. “She gets like that sometimes.”
A sigh escapes you as you rub the bridge of your nose. Of fucking course. All of Pekora’s closest friends show up to lift her spirits, and she still doesn’t want to listen. Getting that stupid rabbit to knock off the self-flagellating bullshit is easily going to be the most headache-inducing part of this whole operation. “Great. If you guys couldn’t snap her out of it, I dunno how much help I’ll be.”
“Hey, don’t sell yourself short,” says the elven girl. “You may not have known her for as long as we have, but you’ve got your own unique relationship with her. Maybe you can find an opening that we couldn’t.”
“Well I’ll give you that much, our relationship certainly is ‘unique.’” Between the pranking and the bullying and the occasional moments of affection, you and Pekora share a bond that’s volatile, chaotic, and probably not entirely healthy. “I guess I didn’t come all this way just to turn around now, so I’ll see what I can do.”
Flare gives you an uplifting smile. “That’s what I like to hear.”
“Transfer Student, fight!” Rushia holds up her balled fists as she cheers you on.
“Good luck…” Even Noel offers some encouragement, bashfulness notwithstanding.
Despite your lack of confidence, the three girls’ rallying cries stoke the fire in your belly. Suddenly you feel motivated to give it your best shot, end results be damned. You’re starting to understand why sports teams have cheerleaders. “Thanks, you three.”
“Oh, before you go!” Marine, who seems to have bounced back from her sulking and returned to her usual upbeat self, reaches into her bag and pulls out a collection of papers held together with a paperclip. “Take this,” she says as she holds them out.
You look down at the papers, then back up at her. “What is it?”
“Class notes!” Sure enough, a quick glance at the top page reveals it to be covered in algebra formulas. “Just because Pekora’s locked up doesn’t mean she doesn’t have to do homework. The four of us put these together to help her out.”
“Weren’t you just with her? Why didn’t you give them to her then?”
“Why indeed,” the pirate teasingly replies as she shoves the stack of papers into your hands. The sudden motion catches you off-guard, but with a bit of fumbling you’re able to get ahold of them before they tumble to the floor. “Anyways, we’re gonna head out now! Make sure you’re on time for tomorrow’s meeting!”
“And you make sure tomorrow’s meeting ends on time!” you retort.
Marine just laughs and trots off down the hallway. “Byyye!”
The others say their goodbyes (or in Noel’s case, silently nods her goodbye) and follow in the pirate girl’s wake, leaving you alone in the corridor. Tucking the class notes away in your bag, you resume your trek towards the school jail. After your encounter with those four, all of your hesitation has evaporated. Even your frustration at Pekora is only getting you more fired up. That damn rabbit has no clue what’s coming. Her genmates may have gone to visit her as kind and caring friends, but that’s just not the kind of relationship you have with her. It’s time to do things your way.
The nemesis way.
Arriving at the jail, greeting the two guards at the entrance (who are once again absorbed in solving a jigsaw puzzle), passing through the gated door, and traversing the hallway lined with barred cells, you finally arrive at your destination. The last cell on the left.
And there she is, once again.
Pekora sits at the edge of her cot with her bare legs hanging over the side. The tips of her toes are just barely able to touch the floor, lightly brushing against the concrete as her dangling limbs sway back and forth. She stares at the ground with her head bowed, face tightened into a pained look of remorse. Just like yesterday, her eyes are two deep and dark wells of amber, still devoid of light. Her condition has barely improved at all since the last time you saw her. If there’s anything remotely encouraging to say about her, it’s that at least this time she isn’t curled up in a fetal position. But other than that, she looks as pitiful as ever.
Unlike yesterday, however, you’re fresh out of pity to give. The only emotion you can bring yourself to feel is irritation. “You’re as cheerful as ever,” you say to her, making no effort whatsoever to hide the venom in your tone.
The rabbit girl’s long ears twitch at the sound of your voice, her head turning towards you. Surprise shows on her face for a fraction of a second, before she returns to her previous sorrowful expression. “Oh, it’s you.”
You meet her sad look with one of unimpressed annoyance. “Good to see you too. I was really hoping I’d come back here to find that you’d gotten tired of the ‘woe is me’ routine. But I guess I was being too optimistic.”
Pekora’s eye twitches as her brow furrows ever so slightly. “Sorry to disappoint,” she mumbles as she looks away.
“No you’re not, quit lying.”
Her hands clench, fingers digging into the sheets. She doesn’t say anything back, but your irritation is clearly rubbing off on her. Good.
“I ran into your friends on the way here,” you continue. “What do you call them? Your ‘genmates?’ They seem like a fun bunch. Good friends too, if they all took the time to come see you. I’m guessing they showered you in love and support. Think you’re starting to reconsider your dumb plan yet? Or were they just wasting their time?”
That last push finally gets you the results you want. Pekora whips her head in your direction, fixing you with an angry glare. “What do you want, Transfer Student?”
Her piercing gaze washes over you like water. That trick won’t work on you a second time. “I’m making a delivery,” you answer as you reach into your bag and pull out the stack of papers that Marine had bequeathed to you. “Those friends you keep letting down pooled their class notes to help you with your homework. Marine asked me to give them to you.”
Her scowl doesn’t falter. “Why didn’t she just give them to me herself?”
“Why indeed.” You hold them out. “Here. Take it.”
Pekora just sits there and glowers at you for a few moments before she looks away. “I don’t need it,” she mutters. “There’s no point in doing homework if I’m going to be leaving.”
The fucking audacity of this brat. “Fine,” you say as you lift your forearm, pulling back the papers. “I’ll just go ahead and let the others know that their ungrateful friend refused to accept the gift that they made for her.”
“Mmmmh!!” The rabbit fumes, her shoulders trembling in anger. Pushing herself up off the bed, she storms up to the gate separating the two of you. The rattle of a chain draws your attention to her neck, around which is fastened a shackle that you’d failed to notice before. A chain dangles uselessly from the front, jerking back and forth with her hastened movements. What is even the point of making her wear something like that? “Fine! I’ll take the stupid thing!” she angrily yells as she shoves her arm through the gap between the bars, palm outstretched.
“Much better.” Lowering your forearm once more, you deposit the stack of papers in Pekora’s waiting hand.
She all but tears them out of your grasp. “That was a dirty move,” she hisses before stomping over to her work desk and dropping the papers onto the surface.
“Guess you’re rubbing off on me.” Looking closer, you can see several textbooks, notebooks and worksheets arranged haphazardly atop the desk. Sure enough, even imprisoned, Pekora is expected to keep up her studies. Fucking high school, man.
The girl drops heavily back onto her cot. “There. You made your delivery.”
“That I did.” Slipping your bag from your shoulder, you dump it on the floor. “Now then…” Your butt comes to rest on the hard floor as you take a seat, resting your back against the bars. One hand reaches into your bag and starts to fish out books.
“…What are you doing?” comes Pekora’s voice from behind.
“Homework,” you answer simply as you open your algebra textbook.
“I can see that, why are you doing homework here?”
“Well, someone has to be around to help when you inevitably get stuck.” You retrieve a pencil and eraser from your pencil case.
“I already told you I’m not doing my homework!” she angrily declares.
“Then what are you going to do?” you ask, opening your notebook and turning to an empty page. “Sit around and sulk? I’m surprised you haven’t gotten bored of that by now.”
Several moments pass in silence. “...You really don’t know when to take a hint, do you?”
“Hey.” You power up your graphing calculator. “If you want me gone that badly, then feel free to give those deputies down the way a holler.”
Seconds pass, but Pekora’s shout for the guards doesn’t come. As expected, her desire to have you removed isn’t quite strong enough to overcome her hesitation to interact with strangers. “Do what you want,” she finally grumbles.
“I will. And if you want to just sit there feeling sorry for yourself, then by all means. Be my guest.”
The cell block falls silent, save for the faint scratching of your pencil against the page. You can’t hear any movement from within the cell; Pekora must be staying put on the cot. But that’s fine. Yesterday has taught you that no amount of convincing will get that girl to do something she doesn’t want to do. If she does end up joining you, it will be her decision and nobody else’s.
As the minutes go by, your page steadily fills up with equations until you finally solve the last problem and bring your algebra homework to a close. While you’re swapping out textbooks to move on to English, your ears finally pick up signs of motion behind you: the faint creak of bedsprings, and soft footfalls moving across the room towards the work desk. The corner of your mouth curls into a smug grin as you hear the chair’s wooden legs scrape against the floor.
“I’m only doing this because I’m bored,” asserts Pekora, completely unprompted.
“I didn’t ask. Let me know if you need to borrow my calculator.”
“I have my own,” she mutters.
You throw your hands up in mock submission. “Okay.”
With the situation settled, your attention returns to your work. Tension lingers in the air between you and Pekora as the two of you work in silence, neither of you acknowledging each other. Part of you can’t help but wonder if this is really the best use of your time. The goal of coming here was to find a way to break the rabbit girl out of her funk, and instead all you’ve done so far is antagonize her and solve a few algebra problems. But to be quite honest, this was the best idea you could think of. You’ve come to accept that your pep-talk game is absolute shit, so lifting her spirits that way is off the table. But maybe you can at least get her to focus on something other than beating herself up for a while. Whether that ‘something’ is doing her homework, or being angry at you. Plus, there’s a certain amount of catharsis in calling her out on her aggravating behavior. Regardless of whether or not any of your words actually stick, at least you’ve spoken your mind.
“Hey.” Pekora’s voice breaks the long period of quiet.
“Hm?”
“What’s the ‘m’ in mRNA stand for, again?”
“Messenger.”
The rabbit falls silent again. Not even a ‘thank you.’ Rude.
Time continues to pass. A hush hangs over the cell block, interrupted only by the intermittent question posed by your rabbit companion. You finish your English assignment, followed by biology, then geography, and finally Japanese. But even once you’ve completed the last of your homework, a quick glance over your shoulder reveals that your partner is still hard at work; you did get a bit of a head start on her, and who knows if she works as quickly as you. So after packing up your books, you continue to sit there while she catches up.
At last, you hear the faint ‘thump’ of a thick book being shut. “Finished?” you ask.
“Mhm.” The irritation has long since faded from Pekora’s voice. Peeking back, you watch her rise to her feet and push in her chair. As she looks your way, you’re pleased to see a total absence of both anger and sadness in her expression. Even her hollow eyes look just the tiniest bit less gloomy. Getting out of her own head and concentrating on something else seems to have brought her down to baseline. Or close to it, at least. Maybe your dumb idea to distract her wasn’t so dumb after all. “You didn’t have to wait around for me, you know,” she remarks.
“Yeah, I know.” Picking yourself up off the ground, you turn to face her. Your own irritability has ebbed along with hers, so you opt to give your ‘tough love’ routine a rest and just talk normally. “Feeling a bit less bored now?”
The rabbit girl listlessly shrugs her shoulders. “I dunno. Homework doesn’t exactly make for riveting entertainment.”
“Fair enough.” Maybe you should look into some other means of environmental enrichment. Being stuck in a cell with nothing to do but ruminate on her failings definitely isn’t helping Pekora’s mental health. If you can give her something to occupy her time, maybe she’ll start to feel a little better. Maybe even be more open to hearing her friends out. It can’t hurt, at least.
And there just might be something you can do about that right now.
“I have an idea,” you announce. “Wait here.”
“Huh-?”
You don’t even wait for Pekora’s response, leaving your bag on the floor and exiting the cell block at a trot. Through the winding corridors, up the stairs, and over to the adjoining building, you beeline for your destination: the school library. And roughly fifteen minutes later, you return to Pekora’s cell with a book clutched in your hand.
The rabbit looks over to you from her spot at the side of the bed. Pushing herself up onto her feet, she approaches the barred barrier between the two of you. “What was that about?”
“Here.” You hold out the book to her. “I checked this out.”
Eyeing the tome curiously, Pekora takes it from you and reads the front cover. “‘Holo…Fantasy?’”
“I wasn’t sure what kind of book you’d like,” you confess, “so I just grabbed the first one that caught my eye.” Hard to go wrong with sword & sorcery.
She turns the book to one side, inspecting its thick width. “It looks…pretty long.”
“Well, you’ve got a lot of time to kill, so I figured longer would be better.”
After a few moments of gazing at the book in silence, Pekora finally tucks it under her arm, apparently choosing to accept it. “Um…thanks,” she says, eyes averted.
“Sure. Maybe now you’ll have something to do besides hate on yourself all day.”
Her features tighten in a faint wince for the briefest of moments before slackening again. “Maybe.”
“You can tell me what you think of it tomorrow. I think I’ve overstayed my welcome for today.” So saying, you pick up your bag and sling the strap over your shoulder.
The rabbit’s dark amber irises flit over to peek at you out of the corner of her eye. “I take it you’re going to do your homework out there in the hallway again?”
“Probably,” you reply with a shrug. “You needed my help a few times today, and I don’t see why tomorrow would be any different.”
“And if I decide I don’t want to do my homework tomorrow?” she asks testingly.
“Then that’s your prerogative. Would be a shame to see those class notes your friends went through the trouble of putting together go to waste though.”
The girl harumphs as her face twists into a pout. “Just have to keep playing that card, don’t you?”
“I’ll stop doing it when it stops working.” Adjusting the strap against your shoulder, you turn to leave. “Anyways, I’ll see you later. Try not to beat yourself up too much, alright?”
“I’ll…try.” Her words are half-hearted and devoid of conviction. But hearing them brings you hope nonetheless. Compared to yesterday, her current attitude is a marked improvement. She still looks glum. And she still hasn’t changed her mind about leaving. But maybe, with the support of you, Moona, Marine, and all the rest of her friends, she can be brought by degrees back to her former self.
Clinging to that faint glimmer of hope, you leave the cell behind.
With the distant sound of the entry gate being closed, Pekora is left alone in the deserted cell block. The rabbit girl hasn’t budged from her spot by the bars, anchored in place while she wordlessly lifts up the book with both hands to stare at the cover. After several moments of stillness, her arms gingerly wrap around the leather binding to hold the thick tome close to her chest. Approaching her work desk, she pushes aside textbooks and sheets of paper to free up space on the cramped wooden surface. And taking a seat, she sets down the book, opens to the first page, and begins to read.
~~~~~