Nineteen

'We need to talk'

Kaho frowned and texted him back, suggesting he call her in maybe an hour. She was out with Himiko. She sighed to herself. How had these letters completely skewed her relationship with her boyfriend? She groaned and opened up the thread of texts from the last two weeks. Before the new school year had started, Kaho had texted him a few times, but nothing deep or meaningful. Lots of 'good mornings', 'good nights', but little else. He was giving her olive branches again and again and again and she'd ignored them. She knew she had a reason, time and time again. But, even still, he didn't know that. 

He needed to talk to her? Fine. 

'It's okay, we can talk?'

Kaho waited for a reply, but it didn't come, and when Kikiyo made her way home, Kaho took Himiko home. 

Monday rolled around and it felt like a funeral procession. Maybe it was just her, but Kaho felt like death warmed up. She couldn't imagine how Mamoru was feeling. 

It was muggy and overcast, the clouds were knitted together in an ominous dark grey quilt. Kaho fanned herself with her hand, and adjusted her bag on her shoulder. It was so hot and uncomfortable. 

Mariah and Ryota were waiting at the corner of Kaho's street, arms laden with supplies, from concentrated fruit juice to stain Kikiyo's outfit, to an abundance of snacks, individual coins to slip into her bag, and a brand new keyring. 

The keyring had been Stupid Tamaki's idea. A cat tracker. But cuter, and subtler. Stupid Tamaki and his stupid cat tracker idea for Rana and Tama. Stupid Tamaki had a point. It was a good idea to be able to keep an eye on someone who wanders. It just so happened that that certain someone wasn't a cat. 

Kaho grimaced, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. She had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, like she'd forgotten something. But she couldn't quite place it. 

"Any idea how we're going to put that on her bag?" Mariah asked. 

Kaho shrugged, "Maybe just stuff it in there and hope she doesn't see. We could always call the cops on the John if she goes inside?" 

Ryota shrugged, dribbling his basketball as they walked to school 

"Did anyone have any luck this weekend?" he asked. 

Kaho and Mariah shook their heads, "She ghosted us."

Ryota sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "Let's just hope we can do this." 

"I know we can," Kaho said, turning to squeeze his hand.

Ryota dribbled the ball, bouncing it between his fingertips with every step. The girls sighed as Ryota dragged his feet, turning every step into a move for the game. Kaho rolled her eyes, snatching the ball from his hands and stuck the ball under her arm. 

"Stop, if you drop it in the road, you'll be pissed." 

Ryota rolled his eyes and jabbed the ball from under Kaho's arm. He broke into a jog on the way up the incline to school. He dribbled along the path, and Mariah and Kaho broke into a quick jog to catch him up, calling for him to stop being silly. But he didn't. There was something about that ball, it was like a crutch, and he wanted to keep it in his hands. As they approached the school, a good half an hour before class, Ryota tossed the ball over the gate as if he was shooting a basket. The ball bounced and rolled to a third-year girl. She snorted a laugh and swung her arm in a curved, sweeping motion and sent the ball back to him. She made a peace sign with her fingers and bounded on over. 

"Ryota! Just the guy I needed to see!" she exclaimed, "Coach Taiga just got the team list for the prelims, c'mon!" 

"You're kidding! He wasn't supposed to get those til next week!" 

"I know!" She exclaimed, "But they drew the names early! Every coach got an email this morning. Coach Taiga was waiting for me at the shoe locker!" 

A grin split Ryota's face and he threw the basketball to Kaho, beckoning her and Mariah to follow him. His stride was long, crossing the length of the schoolyard in just moments. 

"He's going to give us the starting lineup!" Ryota exclaimed, his neck craned back and a beam crossing his face. 

Kaho's brother was standing in the centre of the gym, wearing his royal blue tracksuit and trainers. He beckoned Ryota and the girls into the gym. The third years were already there. They were covered in a stream of sweat. 

"Morning Ryota, looks like Fumiko found you, huh?" he grinned. 

Fumiko, the basketball manager skipped to Taiga's side. She opened her arms wide and awaited the neon pink basketball from Ryota. He passed it to her and she caught the ball without issue. 

She blew her whistle and watched the boys fall into line in front of her, standing to attention like soldiers in a procession. They stood in order of rank, Captain Hirano, a lean boy with fair skin and grey eyes was staring directly at Taiga. His hair was buzzed, his undercut recently refreshed. He was wearing his gym clothes and reeked of aftershave, a few guilty nicks were on his chin from his morning shave.

Beside him stood his friend and vice, Sunada. He was a sturdy, stocky boy with tanned skin and short black hair. He stood at six foot tall and had a powerful presence even without being dressed to play.. He smiled at Ryota and tousled his hair when he came into the gym, muscling his way in between the remaining third years. 

Kaho and Mariah lingered in the doorway. 

"Come on in," Fumiko exclaimed, "We don't want to shout." 

Kaho and Mariah shared a glance and slunk over to the bench beside the team like water girls. They sat down and looked up at Taiga. He glanced from his sister to the third years and Ryota. 

The remaining third-year students shared a glance. Kaho nodded at each of the basketball team individually, there was Nitta, with his long, overly gelled hair, accentuating his widow's peak, Matsushita with his pronounced mole under his right eye, Konishi, their clutch shooter, with his light brown hair and fresh tan from the beak, and Omura, their go-to centre, who sported a bandage on his leg. 

Where would Naseru end up in this equation if she managed to get him to play? 

"I want you guys to hear it first. You are my stars. I want you warm on my starting line and hot on the bench for quick switches. Do I make myself clear?" 

The seven players nodded. Ryota swallowed the lump in his throat. If he played, he'd be benching a third year, keeping them from valuable time on the court – that was a horrible thought. He lowered his gaze. 

"Ryota," Captain Hirano said, "You stop thinking that right now." 

Ryota shot him a forlorn glance, unable to look him in the eye. 

"Your captain is right," Taiga said, "Ryota, you've been working so hard and deserve to be on the court. Just like everyone else." 

Fumiko nodded beside him. She rummaged in her schoolbag and produced a piece of paper and handed it to him. 

"Is that Naoru's number?" 

She nodded, grinning, "He said you had a lot of balls to actually throw yourself on the floor to keep a ball from leaving the court. He wants you to come to the morning volleyball drills starting Wednesday, 'kay? He's expecting you to text." 

Ryota nodded, sticking the paper in his pocket. He ran a hand through his hair and looked over at Taiga, his lip trembling. 

Taiga cleared his throat and looked along the line of players. They looked up at them, each of their lips trembled as they waited, with baited breath for their assignments. 

"We will be playing against Hanagawa's greatest rival in the first bout this year. We need to come in hot and beat Muraniko Private School and maintain the pace through the prelims. We don't want to show our hands. Not if we don't need to. So for the first game, I'm thinking Hirano, Sunada, Nitta, and Matsushita on the court. Omura – how are your ankles after your fall before the break. What did your physio say?" 

"I have one more session, Coach. But I'll let you know, okay?" 

"Of course – I know I talk a hard game about this sport but your health is the most important thing. Do I make myself clear?" 

Omura nodded, adjusting his owlish glasses. 

Kaho grimaced. Muraniko was Tatsuya's school. She wondered whether he would go to support them, maybe then he could slip away and spend a few select moments with her instead. 

"Right," Taiga said, hands on his hips, "I'm looking forward to seeing you at practice. And of course, your positions are subject to change for the moment. But keep up your momentum and we are going to have a great run."

"Yes coach!" they said in unison. 

Taiga grinned at his team and shooed them away. 

Ryota beamed and glanced over at his friends. No, he wasn't a starter for the first match, but he was a secret weapon. He was the hand they were hesitating to show and that was almost better. He grinned and skipped across the court, taking his neon pink ball from Fumiko and throwing it at the nearest hoop. He was toeing the three-point line when he tossed it. It landed with an easy swoosh of the net. He pumped his fist and turned to his friends. 

They grinned at him. Mariah's eyes flickered to the clock mounted on the gym wall. She swore. The bell would chime in mere moments. They'd spent their early start in the gym instead of soaking up every last minute with Kikiyo. They had to move. 

Kaho swallowed the lump in her throat as she ran, still unable to escape the nagging feeling that she had forgotten something. 

They changed their shoes quickly, promptly heading up to the second-year classrooms. They found Kikiyo in 2A, glaring at Mamoru, her hands on her hips. 

"I can't believe you Mamoru! You promised!" 

Kaho, Mariah and Ryota froze in the doorway. Kikiyo looked as she always did, her sleek black hair was styled in a perfect hime cut, her blunt bangs were neatly styled by her eyebrows. She scowled at Mamoru, her brows knitted together. She'd put makeup on, though. Was that perfume? She stank of peonies. Well that was some kind of indicator, wasn't it? 

"I forgot! I'm sorry!" Mamoru wailed, "I've – I've had a lot on my mind!" 

"But you promised," she stomped, "You promised me you'd buy that cake for Ichigo." 

Kaho winced, gaze flickering from Ryota to Mariah. They'd all been there when he'd lied and said that the whole purpose of him giving her cake before had been because of Ichigo, and that he'd apparently got the date of her birthday wrong. That was what Kaho had forgotten. That was what she was supposed to remember. Her stomach dropped. It felt like lead. She sighed, unsure of how Mamoru intended to dig himself out of the mess he'd made. 

But, if it was Ichigo's birthday, did she really intend to go running off to a cheap motel to be indoctrinated into sex work on her little sister's birthday?