Spread My Wings (Fruits Basket)

Goners

Sukochi's POV

I watched in dread as the two class representatives, Nakashima and Inoue, following their announcement regarding vandalism in the boy's bathroom, unfurled the next topic of discussion: the coveted cultural festival.

The school-wide affair ridden with cheap rice noodles, raunchy pop songs, and home movies, the festival wasn't something I had exactly enjoyed at my old school. If memory served me correctly, my class had performed a mini-skit that was an adaption of some old Japanese legend- not the sort of event that typically goes swimmingly, especially when you're wearing a bunny suit and your nemesis is there to hit you on the head with a rice cooker.

Where was I going again?

Right. The cultural festival.

Nakashima brushed her bangs out of her face, shuffling a set of papers. "So, any ideas? We're open to anything at this point."

I glanced at Hanamura's empty desk, a vase in her place; thought of my sister's number, erased from my phone.

That was the price I had paid.

But what about Hatori? He'd done the dirty work for me. He was the one who'd gone through with the petty scheme I'd designed to fix the mistake I'd made, the one who pressed his hand against her forehead and watched as her memories drifted away.

Irreplaceable, irreplaceable memories.

"-onigiri-sampling? Sounds great." Inoue picked up a stub of chalk, writing it on the blackboard. "Anyone else?"

Ayame waved his hand enthusiastically in the air. The two reps exchanged a glance, before calling on him reluctantly. "Yes, Sohma? Um, Ayame Sohma that is."

"A photo shoot!" he exclaimed, spreading his arms. "See, we could get a collection of costumes, people would come try them on, we'll photograph them, and they'll pay us for the end result!"

The class murmured in assent.

I relaxed. Well, that seemed harmless enough.

Turning my head to the side, I caught Hatori's eye, before remembering, my gaze flitting away and locking on a wad of gum glued to the surface of my desk.

Even though two months had already passed by, we'd never been able to ease the awkwardness between us.

Inoue rubbed his chin in apprehension. "That would be a cool project, but the question is...how would we be able to make sure everyone had a hand in it? The way you described it made it sound like a job for just a couple of people."

Ayame slapped a hand on his desk, a fire blazing in his eyes. I instinctively edged away- it would take the entire Japanese police forced to subdue him now that he had gotten himself riled up. "Did I say 'get'? I meant make!"

Nakashima raised an eyebrow at him. "...come again?"

"The costumes!" he spluttered in near anguish. "The costumes! We design them, we get the materials, we make them ourselves! We could organize a whole commission, of which I would-"

"-be the leader," I mumbled under my breath. Shigure barely stifled his snicker.

"Thank you, Fujikawa-chan!" Ayame said, without missing a beat, before amending hastily, "Of course, that's not to say that I can't have a number of deputies! Advertisers too, to sit outside of our classroom and tell people about our amazing project. Also, we'll need photographers- our photo-shoot will become so popular we'll have to run multiple stations to keep up with our customers! Experts in technology and whatnot, I urge you to step forward in the name of fashion!"