I looked up from the stack of competition photos I was sorting to find Yamamoto Kenji lounging against the door frame. Everything about him screamed calculated rebellion – from his artfully bleached hair to his deliberately loose tie and the leather jacket that definitely violated dress code. Only the well-worn camera bag slung across his shoulder suggested something more than just another playboy delinquent.
I'd heard stories about him from Akane – the former Photography Club star who shot entirely by instinct, breaking every technical rule while somehow still capturing moments that made you forget to breathe. These days he showed up at gallery openings with an easy grin and expensive cologne, charming curators and making Akane pretend she wasn't watching him from behind her perfect posture and precise compositions.
The Photography Club room felt different in the afternoon light. Golden rays slanted through the windows, dust motes dancing in their path as Akane methodically set up for Segawa's first lesson. I sat in the corner, supposedly supervising, though mostly I was trying not to fall asleep after my all-night study session.
"First, we'll cover the basics of aperture and shutter speed," Akane was saying, her voice shifting into what I called her 'club president mode.'
"Just as Admiral Yi mastered the currents of the sea, I shall master the flow of light!" Segawa declared, holding the camera like it might transform into a turtle ship.
"Please don't drop the equipment," Akane sighed, and I could almost see her counting backwards from ten in her head. "These cameras are—"
Watching her try to maintain her professional composure while Segawa compared ISO settings to naval battle strategies, I couldn't help but smile. Sometimes the most interesting photos weren't the perfectly exposed ones, but the ones that caught you between practiced poses, in those moments when real life developed despite your best attempts at control.
"Still being abused by novice admirals, I see."
Kenji materialized in the doorway like a deliberately casual apparition, his bleached hair catching the afternoon light. The way Akane's shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly told its own story, even if she kept her voice perfectly neutral.
"Kenji-senpai. The club is in the middle of a lesson."
"Don't mind me," he grinned, pulling something from his camera bag. "Just dropping off those gallery opening shots you asked about. You know, the ones you said had 'questionable artistic merit.'"
"I said the exposure was inconsistent."
"Same thing, coming from you." He placed the envelope on her desk with exaggerated care. "Though the curator seemed to think they had plenty of merit."
Their exchange carried the weight of previous conversations I wasn't privy to, a careful dance of technical critique and something else neither of them seemed ready to acknowledge.
"The composition is..." Akane started, then stopped as she actually looked at the photos.
"Is...?" His practiced smirk softened into something more genuine.
"Still needs work," she finished, but her fingers lingered on the prints longer than necessary.
"Keep telling yourself that, Miss Perfect Exposure." He headed for the door, then paused. "Oh, and try not to let the admiral sink any of the club's equipment. Some of us still remember how much those lenses cost."
"I would never endanger valuable naval assets!" Segawa declared, somehow managing to almost drop his camera in the process of saluting.
I watched Akane watch Kenji leave, her usual precise movements just slightly off-rhythm as she tucked the envelope into her bag. Whatever was developing between them, neither seemed quite ready for it to be exposed.
A quiet knock at the door interrupted her. A tall, lanky boy with messy black hair and thick-rimmed glasses stood in the doorway, clutching what looked like a well-worn Nikon camera.
"Excuse me," he said softly, his eyes darting between us before settling somewhere on the floor. "Is this... is this a bad time?"
"Matsuda-kun?" Akane's tone shifted to something more professional. "Did you need something?"
Matsuda Kaito, I remembered now. He was in Class 2-C, usually sitting alone in the back, always with a camera nearby. The kind of person others tended to look past – I recognized the signs, having perfected that particular art myself.
"I was hoping to..." he glanced at me, then quickly away. "Never mind. I can come back later."
"Nonsense!" Segawa boomed, making Matsuda jump. "Join us in our quest for photographic enlightenment! Just as Admiral Yi welcomed skilled navigators to his fleet—"
"Segawa," Akane and I said simultaneously.
"Sorry."
Matsuda looked increasingly uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot. But there was something in the way he kept sneaking glances at Akane that caught my attention. A certain tension in his shoulders, a slight flush when she addressed him directly...
Ah. So that's how it was.
"Actually," I said, standing up, "Segawa and I need to check the lighting in the courtyard for his... historical documentation project." I grabbed Segawa's arm before he could launch into another naval battle comparison. "Matsuda-kun, could you help Akane organize the equipment while we're gone? She mentioned needing help with the new telephoto lenses."
Akane shot me a suspicious look – she hadn't mentioned anything about lenses – but Matsuda's face lit up for a brief moment before he carefully schooled it back to neutrality.
"I... if Suzuki-senpai doesn't mind..."
"That would be helpful, actually," Akane said. "These need to be cataloged by focal length and..."
I dragged Segawa out before he could protest, closing the door behind us. Through the window, I could see Matsuda carefully maintaining a respectful distance from Akane while she explained something about the lenses, his expression a mixture of admiration and nervousness.
"Why are we leaving?" Segawa whispered (or what passed for whispering with him). "The great Admiral never abandoned his post during training—"
"Because," I said, "sometimes the best strategy is knowing when to retreat." I paused. "Didn't Admiral Yi use strategic retreats in his battles?"
Segawa's eyes widened. "Ah! Just as the Admiral drew enemy ships into unfavorable positions... I see! This is part of the training!"
I decided not to correct his interpretation. Besides, I had a feeling Matsuda would be seeking me out soon enough. After all, who better to help navigate the treacherous waters of unrequited love than someone who spent her time helping a self-proclaimed reincarnated admiral join the Photography Club?
"Shirogane-san?"
I looked up from my phone to find Matsuda hovering nearby, fidgeting with his camera strap. Across the club room, Akane was attempting to explain depth of field to Segawa, who kept relating everything back to naval warfare strategies.
"No, Segawa-kun, bokeh has nothing to do with signal fires," I heard her say with practiced patience.
"Can I... can I talk to you for a moment?" Matsuda asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe somewhere else?"
I glanced at Akane, but she was fully occupied with preventing Segawa from using the expensive camera as a prop for his historical reenactment.
"Sure," I said, following him into the hallway.
Once outside, Matsuda seemed to struggle even more with whatever he wanted to say. He kept adjusting his glasses, looking everywhere but at me.
"You're friends with Suzuki-senpai," he finally managed.
It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway.
"I... I've been in the Photography Club since first year," he continued, words coming faster now. "Suzuki-senpai, she... she always treated me normally. Not like..." He gestured vaguely at himself.
"Not like someone to look past?" I suggested quietly.
His eyes met mine for the first time, recognition flickering in them. "Yes. Exactly." He took a deep breath. "I want to tell her how I feel, but..."
"But?"
"But I'm not... I mean, look at her." Through the club room window, we could see Akane demonstrating proper camera handling, her movements precise and confident. "She's amazing. Perfect. And I'm just..."
"Just someone who loves photography enough to notice the way light catches on her hair when she's reviewing contact sheets?" I said casually.
Matsuda's face went scarlet. "How did you—"
"You're not as subtle as you think." I leaned against the wall. "I've seen your competition photos from last year. The ones with her in them."
"Those weren't... I mean, I didn't..."
"They were good," I said. "Really good. The composition, the lighting – you captured her when she wasn't performing. When she was just being Akane."
He stared at his camera. "She didn't know I took them. I never submitted them. It felt... wrong."
From inside the club room came Segawa's voice: "Just as Admiral Yi's turtle ships struck fear into the hearts of enemies, I shall capture the essence of battle with this 50mm lens!"
"That's... that's not what that lens is for," Akane's exasperated reply followed.
I couldn't help but smile. "You know, Akane puts up a perfect front, but she's also the person who once spent three hours organizing photos by color palette because she couldn't decide which ones to use for the school festival."
Matsuda looked surprised. "Really?"
"Really. She's human, just like the rest of us." I straightened up. "Tell you what – help me keep Segawa from turning the darkroom into a naval command center, and I'll help you figure out how to talk to her."
"You'd do that?"
"Consider it karmic balance for all the times she's helped me." I glanced back through the window, where Akane was now trying to explain why historical battle formations couldn't be recreated with the club's tripods. "Though I should warn you – getting involved with the Photography Club these days is... an adventure."