To Be a Bystander

Two sides of an argument of whether to get involved were warring inside his mind. There was nothing to gain, he'd be going out on a limb. The threatening's and slaughter he heard breathed, haunted his thoughts all morning. Yamanaka came to visit him in the music room during lunch for a few minutes. If there was one thing he was glad for, it would be her company, which was a thought he had about very few people. She had avoided coming around for a few days and Benjiro honestly couldn't blame her on that front. It wasn't every day that you got caught up in underworld politics.

"That sounds like seriously suspicious", Saori concured.

"Wh-What do you th-think I should do", Benjiro wondered.

Yamanaka sighed, drew up her legs and rubbed her shins as she pondered.

"That's a really tough one", she admitted, "And I honestly wish I could help. But, honestly, I think the only way you can do this is by just asking her what the problem is."

The two of them sat in silence for a moment to reflect on everything. Benjiro rubbed his forehead as yet another minor headache was building inside his brain. This whole mess was so confusing to a wallflower like him. Too many rules and subtleties that just flew over his unobservant head.

"Regardless, Higaki and I didn't go to the same middle school, so I couldn't even begin to hazard a guess what Fujibayashi may be holding over her head."

Benjiro wanted to tell her that talking didn't seem like an option since Higaki, for whatever reason seemed to be mad at him again. Trying to predict how she'd react to even the most simple interactions was like being put in a room with a sleep deprived badger. With all luck, things might go just fine but most likely you'd end up with a few wounds and be scared to go near it again. Even so, when he looked at Yamanaka, he could tell she wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer.

So there was just another dead end, and it was beginning to look like Yamanaka's solution was the only one available. Such a thing was mildly infuriating to Benjiro. While he didn't like the idea of someone being blackmailed, he still felt that he would get burned if he inched any closer. Plus, with Higaki still distancing herself from him, it felt like getting her to open up was just begging for trouble. When that was what people wanted, on principle, Benjiro decided to respect their need for privacy. After all, it wasn't his fault that some people were about as open about how they felt as a national bank safe. It was like telling someone that it was all his fault if he didn't put himself in an awkward position for a problem that not only wasn't his but also most likely wouldn't change with his help.

After school ended, the Mission Impossible theme played through Benjiro's head as he snuck his way through the hallways and back to the auditorium. There was still the matter of dealing with Hiromi's fan club, but now there was another matter nagging at his mind. With what on earth could Fujibayashi threatening? It had to be something pretty serious to make someone like Higaki cry. Benjiro honestly never thought he'd see the day where something could worm its way underneath her shell.

He distinctly remembered that she had gotten called a 'whore.' Girl talk had a way of degrading people like there was no tomorrow, but there was something about the way it was said. Like it wasn't being said in jest or even just to simply be mean. It was said with a certain amount of seriousness. Yet, the amount of things that could be referenced were too many to form a useful and probable theory.

'Eh, whatever it is, there's always a chance I can just do what I always do and lend an ear.'

When he glanced around the auditorium, Benjiro couldn't spot Akiko anywhere. He was reminded that she was told to stay away from the club, so it was deduced that she must have gone home then. Still, being so scared of another person made Benjiro's heart quaver with memories of the past. Walking backstage, he got himself set up by one of the many mirrors. After taking stock in his supplies, he found himself in the main club area. He cleared his throat, "Um, everyone. C-Can I get the act-tors backstage so I c-can get an evaluat-tion on wh-what kinds of m-monster makeup you w-want."

The fear of people hearing his voice crack made him nervous enough that, not even waiting to hear a response, Benjiro walked back inside to his makeshift beauty parlor.

It took a few moments but he a small queue of four or five Frankenstein and Frankenstein monster actors were lined up to receive their frightening motif. When it was someone's turn, Benjiro would show the lineup of Akiko's modeling photos he took and that person would make their decision. Impressed with the variety in looks, different shades were used for each person. For the most part, things went alright. It took a little while longer than normal to do everyone's makeup, partly due to the fact that the lanky boy was a little nervous getting people ready that he had almost no interaction.

To be fair, he and Akiko only had a few interactions, but it was enough that he wouldn't consider her a stranger by a longshot. One guy received the pale, dead body look, one girl received the more zombie-like, rotting flesh look and another guy got the patchwork face. That one took considerably longer than the others but he didn't give the full makeover. Hands were getting cramped from having to delicately apply so many different shades of makeup to peoples faces for so long. Yet in an odd way, the mop haired boy felt a sense of fulfillment. He was doing something he loved for other people and he wasn't being called weird or mocked for it. Benjiro felt a small kindle of happiness when he saw that it was Kyo's turn for getting all dolled up.

"Hey, Benjiro", he greeted, "How have things been? Haven't seen ya in almost two or three weeks now. Heard you got saddled with a crazy delinquent girl. She as mean as they say?"

Benjiro was a little overwhelmed when the questions kept coming. Even though he appreciated some friendly conversation, he wasn't sure if he could be around someone like Kyo every day for hours at a time. Definitely better to be taken in small doses. But instead of shrinking back like he normally would, Benjiro put on a friendly face and tried responding as well as he could. Since Kyo was the big star playing the monster himself, he figured that receiving the trademark green look. Dabbing on the setting powder, applying the green shading and slapping on a few stitch stickers, Kyo took a little longer than the others. However, the end result, while not as good as he'd like it, was pretty darn similar to the monster from the 1930's.

"Hot d**n", Kyo exclaimed taking a look in the mirror, "I think I look pretty good, if I do say so myself. Hey, how does this look to you?"

Kyo quickly adopted a hard, blank look on his face, raised his arms straight out in front of him and let out a low growling noise. In response, Benjiro lifted his arms up in mock fear and let out a small yell before he started snickering.

"W-Well, it's not f-finished, b-but by the t-time the play rolls ar-round, you'll h-have the children c-crying when they see you."

Kyo cracked a grin at the thought, "I've never played a monster like this before, so I'm sure that'll be quite an experience. Let's go try this out."

With that, the energetic young man left Benjiro backstage. He was shaken out of his thoughts a moment later when he noticed that he had just one more customer.

"Hey, is anyone inside that empty head there?"

Benjiro's muscles instantly tensed when he realized just who it was.

"Well are you going to do your job or just stand there staring like a freak?"

'It just had to be Fujibayashi, didn't it', Benjiro bemoaned.

'You really seem to have the world's oddest timing, I'll give you that much', replied Inei.

Benjiro gestured for her to sit down.

"You can't even properly offer a seat", she continued to needle, "It's a miracle everyone can understand you so easily."

Try as he might, Benjiro just couldn't look the girl in the eye. He took out his phone and showed the different designs to her without ever saying a word. After pointing to the one she desired, Fujibayashi was surprisingly compliant and patient while he prepared his brushes. It was such a surreal experience that Benjiro couldn't relax the entire time. Like waiting for a cobra to lash out when you got too close.

"I noticed that you used that Higaki girl as your model", she said before he began.

Only a slight grunt was offered in response.

"And from the looks of it, that wasn't a boy's room", Mio observed, "So you probably worked in her room. I find that kind of surprising."

He was unsure of why, but Benjiro's hands were starting to feel sweaty.

"So you were in her room, alone together and you got a few pictures of her while you were at it", Mio's voice was steadily taking on a more vicious edge, "Did she let you do a little something extra when you were done working?"

The young man's hand accidently dug into his discolored blush palette and snapped his gaze to his client.

"Oh, I'm sorry", she mocked, "I forgot that virgins like youself usually like to just leer from a distance since you're too much of a b**ch to actually have the stones to go for it."

Fear, frustration and above all, anger were whipping and whirling around in Benjiro's chest as he did his dandiest to not leap out of his chair and strangle the girl in front of him. His grip was tight enough to almost snap his makeup brush in half.

"Well, you shouldn't be so afraid to try", Mio oh so sweetly advised, "Given Higaki's track record, it shouldn't be too difficult to get even a weasel like you to open her legs for you. Hell, you're probably about the only person who'd be willing to do the deed."

Whether it was in response to the attack on his manhood or the obvious attempt at degradation of a fellow classmate, Benjiro could feel the vein in his forehead pulsing to the point of almost bursting. Snapping his eyes away from the hateful girl sitting in front of him, "Oh, would y-you look at th-the time. Club is ab-bout to end. We'll have t-to do this an-nother time."

There wasn't even a clock on the wall he was looking at. Haste was the only way to describe how the mop haired boy rushed to pack away all his makeup supplies. Not even a single line of makeup was applied to Fujiibayashi's face but all that he could think about was getting the hell out of the auditorium.