The rooftop of Kyoto High was our sanctuary. Up there, we were kings and queens of the world—or at least of the school. I stood at the edge, holding my paper plane aloft like some ancient warrior preparing for battle, fully convinced that this was the day my "genius" would be recognized.
"Hikari," I began, puffing up my chest dramatically, "this isn't just paper. It's engineering. It's art. It's… destiny."
"It's your math homework," Hikari retorted, arms crossed, her unimpressed glare enough to deflate a lesser man.
I clutched my chest like she'd struck me. "How dare you disrespect the Eiffel Tower Express! This beauty will soar to greatness."
"Greatness? It's going to nosedive faster than Ren's mood every Monday morning," she shot back with a smirk.
Ren adjusted his glasses with a sigh, the most exasperated of dads trapped in a sitcom. "Please throw it already, Haruto. Before this nonsense reaches detention territory."
"You just don't understand vision, Ren," I told him. "One day you'll thank me for this demonstration of brilliance."
"Brilliance?" Aki piped up from her spot on the ground, sprawled out like she was sunbathing. "Haruto, the only thing that's brilliant about you is your ability to get us all into trouble."
"Ladies and gentlemen!" I announced, cutting off her jab, "I present to you—Eiffel Tower Express, Voyage #1!" With a dramatic flick of my wrist, I sent the plane flying.
For one glorious moment, it soared majestically across the rooftop. And then, as if rejecting its maker, it plummeted straight onto the shiny dome of Kyoto High's PT coach.
"Oh no," Hikari whispered, frozen.
"Oh YES," I whispered back, struggling to suppress a grin. The coach looked up slowly, his hand clutching the plane like it was evidence of a felony. His wig teetered dramatically before tumbling to the ground in slow motion.
Ren turned away, pretending to study the clouds. Aki stuffed her hand over her mouth, shaking with laughter. Even Sora looked like she was about to crack, her lips twitching ever so slightly.
"WHO DID THIS?!" the coach roared, his voice echoing across the rooftop.
"Run," I hissed.
We bolted for the door, but before we could escape, it slammed open. Standing in the doorway, arms crossed and eyes blazing, was Principal Iwasaki.
"Running will NOT save you!" he declared, his shadow stretching ominously like some final boss in an RPG.
---
The five of us lined up in the principal's office like suspects in a lineup. I sat in the middle, trying to look appropriately repentant, while Hikari muttered darkly under her breath. Ren was sitting stiff and straight, the picture of forced composure. Aki, as always, lounged like she was on vacation. And Sora… well, she just sat quietly, her face giving away nothing.
Principal Iwasaki paced in front of us like a judge preparing to sentence us to life in prison. "Throwing objects at faculty? Creating chaos during school hours? Bringing shame upon this institution? Do any of you have anything to say for yourselves?"
"Technically," I mumbled, "it wasn't aimed at the coach…"
The PT coach snapped his attention to me, his glare enough to make me shrink an inch. "Do you find this amusing, Takeda?"
"No, sir," I replied quickly, though the corner of my mouth twitched with the effort to keep a straight face. I could hear Ren coughing beside me, his "cough" suspiciously resembling suppressed laughter. Aki was shaking so hard she looked like she might fall out of her chair. Even Sora's shoulders trembled ever so slightly.
It was too much. I couldn't hold it in. The laughter burst out of me, and like dominoes, the rest of them followed. Aki doubled over, clutching her stomach. Ren turned his face to the wall, trying and failing to stifle the sound. Sora's silent laughter only made it funnier, her sparkling eyes catching mine for a brief moment.
"ENOUGH!" the coach thundered, slamming his hand down on the desk. "You think this is funny? All of you—100 laps around the field! NOW!"
By lap 60, Hikari looked ready to declare war on cardio. "This is it," she panted, dragging her feet. "Tell my family I love them."
"You won't die," I told her, jogging alongside her like some motivational coach. "You're too stubborn to let something as petty as death win."
"Takeda!" she growled, aiming a swipe at my arm, though her exhaustion made it more of a pathetic wave. "If I wasn't dying, I'd—"
Her threat was cut off by a soft thud. Turning back, I saw Sora sitting on the track, clutching her ankle. She was pale, her lips pressed tight, but as usual, she didn't say a word.
"Sora!" Hikari crouched beside her, worry etched on her face. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Sora said softly, though her expression betrayed her.
"You're not fine," I said, crouching down in front of her. "Come on. Hop on."
"What?" Sora blinked at me, startled.
"You heard me. Free ride. Limited-time offer." Without waiting for her to argue, I scooped her onto my back and started jogging again.
Sora was so quiet, I barely noticed her weight. But her grip on my shoulders—light but steady—sent a warmth through me I didn't quite understand. Behind us, Hikari muttered something about hero complexes.
"Jealous?" Ren teased, falling into step beside us.
"Hah," Hikari shot back. "If Haruto's a hero, I'm the president of Japan."
"Long live the president!" Aki called, throwing her arms in the air.
The sun dipped low in the sky, casting golden hues over the streets as we walked home. One by one, everyone peeled off—Ren to his cram school, Sora to her quiet neighborhood, Aki with a wave and a carefree grin—until only Hikari and I remained.
"You really fought over a drink," I teased, nudging her lightly.
"I did NOT," she snapped, glaring at me. "It was a gesture of generosity, okay? I don't know why Sora jumped in with hers."
I raised an eyebrow. "Jealous much?"
"Of what? Your ability to drink two things at once? Please," she scoffed, pushing me lightly. "You're ridiculous."
"And yet you're still here, walking home with me," I pointed out, smirking.
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut up, Takeda. You're exhausting."
Her words didn't quite match her tone, though. I could see the faintest of smiles tugging at her lips as we walked, our shadows blending into the orange glow of dusk.