Shinrabansho: Myriad Souls

Riko’s appearances were very different from Yuna’s. Yuna drifted in like a quiet guardian angel, always ready to give triage.

Riko, though… she appeared like a shadow that chose to step into the light whenever she felt like it.

“Your back foot’s wandering,” Riko said one afternoon while we were training, startling us both.

I jolted upright.

She was leaning against the gymnasium wall with her blazer folded neatly over one arm, the late sun outlining her hair in gold.

“Huh?” Aoi said, whipping around. “Since when do you stay this late so often, go-home club?”

“Not every day,” Riko replied, frowning just slightly. “I was passing by and happened to see you two back here. Again.”

Her gaze dropped to my stance—specifically to my back foot, which had indeed drifted inward, compromising my balance.

“You keep losing your line,” she said, meeting my eyes. “When you move forward, your back heel wobbles. If someone shoved you, you’d have trouble stopping them from knocking you over.”

My face burned. “I—I—”

“She’s still learning,” Aoi said quickly, bristling like a territorial cat.

“I know,” Riko said, unbothered. “That’s why I’m saying it now. It’s easier to fix these things before they become a habit.”

She walked closer—not too close, but close enough that I caught a faint scent in the air. Perfume. It was the first time I’d noticed it on her. She usually smelled like plain deodorant instead.

Tachibana-san wearing perfume?!

“May I?” she asked softly.

Her hand hovered near my hip, waiting for permission, unlike Yuna.

I nodded, my throat tight.

Riko placed two fingers lightly at the side of my thigh and nudged, guiding my heel outward by just a few centimeters.

“There,” she said. “Now your center’s properly supported. Try stepping forward again. Slowly.”

What? Riko knows martial arts?

I blinked at her, but still obeyed. If she was wrong, Aoi would correct her.

The shift was tiny, but the difference was huge. Less wobble. More strength.

“Better,” Riko said. “You learn fast, Shinohara-san.”

My heart lurched. “Th-thank you…”

Aoi cleared her throat so loudly it echoed. “We were getting to that.”

“I’m sure you were,” Riko said lightly. Her eyes flicked to Aoi’s hand, the one that she’d used to crush the phone a while back. A faint, appreciative smile touched her lips and a light flush entered her cheeks. “You’re good at fighting. I can tell. But sometimes an outside angle helps, don’t you agree?”

“What martial art did you study?” Aoi challenged, her brows knitting as she crossed her arms under her breasts..

Riko shrugged one shoulder. “Erm… well… None.”

Aoi blinked and scowled. I looked at Riko in shock, losing my stance.

What?!

“...I’ve just… watched people fight before. A lot. I know what works and what doesn’t,” Riko seemed a little flustered, but she covered it up quickly.

There was a shadow of experience beneath her claims.

When she’d leaned in to adjust my stance, for the briefest moment…

I’d thought I’d seen another silhouette layered over hers. 

A suit. Another rooftop. Another world.

It was gone before I could grasp the meaning.

“You really have been watching us all the time… haven’t you?” Aoi muttered.

“Mm.” Riko didn’t deny it. “I like seeing strong people in motion. So beautiful.”

Her gaze lingered on Aoi for a little bit too long.

Then her eyes slid to me.

My face went hot and my stomach twisted, half nervously. I wondered whether I should be protective toward Aoi.

Does she plan to try to take Aoi from me? I couldn’t help sweating. She’s much cooler than me…

When she spoke again, it was to me, rather than Aoi, “If you ever want a different practice partner, Shinohara-san,” Riko said lightly, “I won’t break as easily as… certain upperclassmen.”

Aoi narrowed her eyes. “What are you up to?”

“What do you mean?” Riko asked with a too innocent expression.

Their stares met… something passing between them. A challenge, a flicker of respect between them, and something else that I couldn’t quite identify.

I swallowed.

“I think we’re done for today,” Aoi declared abruptly. “Sumire-chan’s exhausted. If I push her any more, your new fan will yell at me.”

WHAT?! 

“My fan?” Riko echoed, gazing at me. “Is that true?”

Fan?! Why am I her fan, even if I think she’s kind of cool?! Is Aoi just being jealous?!

“I’m not as tired as you think, Aoi-chan!” I protested. “I’m not that delicate, okay? I can keep going—”

“Tomorrow,” Aoi cut in sharply. “Remember what I said? We’re spreading this training over months, not cramming it into two weeks. Otherwise I’d be embarrassed to see you try to fight.”

I pouted.

Riko’s smile deepened, like she’d heard something good… like an important clue.

“It’s suspicious that you have a deadline for this training,” Riko murmured. “It’s like you’re preparing her for something that happens in a few months.”

“Just life,” Aoi said flatly. “Life sucks sometimes. Sometimes it hits hard like a truck. If she can hit back hard, I’ll feel much more at ease.”

Riko’s expression softened just slightly when she turned to me.

“Don’t overdo it, Shinohara-san,” she said gently. “You’re already… very impressive as you are.”

DOKI-DOKI

W-what—?! Where did that come from?!

I staggered, clutching at my chest.

She bowed and drifted away, her long legs carrying her toward the main path leading to the front of the gymnasium, leaving the air strangely charged.

Aoi clicked her tongue.

“What?” I asked nervously.

“Nothing,” she muttered, then reached out and tugged a lock of my hair. “You really are collecting women.”

“I’m not—!”

“Don’t act like you’re not,” she grumbled. “It’s like watching someone assemble a slow-motion yuri harem.”

She leaned in, her voice dropping, “I’ll just have to train you even harder for doing that… So busy that no one can steal you away.”

DOKI-DOKI… BADUMP

“…Especially not her.”

Time slipped forward after that.

The x marks on the calendar crept from square to square, the weather warming. My blazer ended up hanging on my chair, my sleeves rolled up past my elbows. The windows stayed open all day long. The air thickened with the scent of fresh-cut grass drifting in from the outside mixing with chalk dust.

Behind the gym, our training continued to evolve.

“Today,” Aoi said one afternoon, “you’re going to learn how to fall.”

I stared at her. “…Excuse me?”

“Safely,” she added. “Falling is important. If you’re scared of hitting the ground, you’ll panic whenever you’re off-balance.”

“That doesn’t sound safe.”

“It’s safer to know the right way to fall than not knowing.”

Then she demonstrated, lowering herself, tucking her chin, rocking back and letting herself drop onto the mat she’d dragged out. Her back hit it with a THUMP, her arms slapping out at an angle to spread the impact. She rose smoothly in one fluid motion.

“Like that,” she said. “Keep your chin tucked and your arms angled like this… And don’t reach back with your hands.”

“This is probably going to hurt,” I muttered.

“A little, maybe… but if you do it right, it won’t,” she said. “And I won’t let you hurt too much. Come on. Sit, roll and fall. I’ve got you.”

I swallowed.

But I trusted her.

I followed her instructions… the first time I was clumsy and stiff, convinced that my spine would snap like a breadstick.

When my back hit the mat, my brain shrieked danger, and every muscle seized like I was falling off a cliff.

“Breathe,” she reminded gently, leaning over me. “Go again.”

And we did it again.

And again.

We practiced from a kneeling position.

Then from squatting.

Then from standing.

Each time, the fear dimmed just a little.

Each time, my body understood the movement a little better.

Each time, I remembered that Aoi was there, ready to prevent anything from hurting me.

By the end of the session, I could drop backward onto the mat without throwing my hands behind me on reflex…

Doing it without screaming took a bit longer.

“That’s enough for today,” Aoi said finally, offering me her hand.

I took her hand, letting her pull me upright.

“Hey,” she added softly. “You did really well.”

I smiled, breathlessly. “It wasn’t as big of a deal as I was afraid of.”

“Right. It was even fun wasn’t it?” Her fingers tightened around my wrist. “You’re getting stronger, Sumire-chan.”

DOKI-DOKI

Her words wrapped around me like a soft blanket, warm and relaxing.

“Eeeeh?!” Megumi squealed. “Pon-chan’s gone again?!”

The cage door hung open once more. The latch was bent a little farther this time than before, as if his tiny paws had simply decided that the rules of physics were optional.

“Is someone pranking us by wrecking his door and staging these escapes?” Daichi groaned. “Does anyone here secretly hate Pon-chan?”

Heads shook all around the room. Voices overlapped in loud, indignant bursts.

“I wouldn’t do that!”

“I don’t know anyone who would!”

“I closed it properly when I fed him this morning!” Megumi wailed, clutching the bars. “He must be a genius ferret!”

“Or a super ferret,” someone suggested.

“Maybe he’s a ghost,” Hinata whispered, eyes wide. “Or a yōkai … Pon-no-kami.”

“Don’t curse the class pet casually like that,” someone hissed.

We scattered again, this time with slightly less panic and slightly more resignation.

“He probably just wanted to stretch his little legs. Maybe his exercise wheel isn’t enough for him.” Kurosawa-sensei sighed. “He’ll come back. He always does.”

She wasn’t wrong.

I found him near the end of the hall on the second floor this time, sitting smack in the middle of the floor as if he’d been waiting for us to find him.

“Pon-chan,” I chided softly. “You’re causing everyone trouble whenever you do this.”

He looked up at me, his eyes bright, his whiskers twitching. Then he scampered straight over and climbed my leg like I was his favorite human mountain in the whole world.

I smiled as he scurried up my stockings, negotiating my skirt, and scaled my blouse past the ribbon on my chest. I gave him a gentle pet as he reached my shoulder and perched there, burrowing close to my neck with a pleased littlest chirr.

“You’re a little too attached to me, maybe,” I murmured, carefully stroking his back. “You’ll make Aoi-chan jealous again if you keep that up.”

“Yep,” Aoi said behind me, her arms crossed.

I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Aoi-chan! When did you—”

“Always with that…” she replied cryptically, staring at Pon-chan like she was considering arm-wrestling him for custody of me.

“Don’t be so mean to him,” I said. “He’s just a little cutie. Aren’t you?” I scratched his chin. He chirred contentedly.

Pon-chan leaned into my fingers rubbing and ignored her completely.

“You traitorous little ball of fur.” Aoi seethed.

He stiffened again. His tiny body went rigid, his fur puffed out, his tail doubling in size. 

I stared at him uncertainly. Is he going to attack Aoi-chan or something?

Instead of settling, his nose lifted, sniffing the air above us… no, slightly to the side, toward a blank patch of wall between two windows.

I followed his gaze.

There was nothing there.

He chattered nervously.

All I could see was the corner of the wall, shadowed a little more than the rest. It looked darker, but only just.

“Pon-chan?” I whispered. “Are you okay?” I gently stroked his back. “Calm down. It’s nothing.”

He didn’t respond, just kept staring, unmoving, his eyes wide, his pupils blown so large they were almost black.

My skin prickled. I licked my lips without realizing it, unsettled even though nothing was actually happening.

Aoi shifted closer, her shoulder brushing against mine. “Hey,” she said quietly. “You okay, Susu?”

“I… yeah,” I answered too quickly. “Maybe there’s a draft in here or something.”

“I’d have felt it.” Aoi fanned her face. “A draft would actually be nice.”

“There are no ghosts breaking ferrets out of their cages! You can just forget that kind of nonsense!” Daichi said from down the hall, his voice carrying easily.

“I’m starting to think there is,” someone commented.

“Where’s Pon-no-kami?” Hinata asked.

“He’s not a yōkai , baka,” Megumi laughed.

“What if he was one?” Hinata shot back.

“We enshrine him in the back of the homeroom,” someone joked.

“Don’t worry, everyone! We found Pon-chan, everyone!” I called out, raising my voice.

After a moment, Pon-chan finally shook himself, as if snapping out of his trance, and immediately started licking my ear.

“Eeeeep!” I flushed, stiffening.

“Stop doing that!” Aoi swiped him off my shoulder, holding him with both hands.

I wondered why he’d stopped puffing up and staring. My eyes scanned the same spot and I neither saw or sensed anything.

We brought him back to his cage. Kurosawa-sensei reinforced the latch with a small carabiner someone dug up from their bag.

“That should hold him,” she said.

Pon-chan looked at the carabiner and then at me, as if to say, We’ll see.

It was sometime in the middle of all of this—our training, our rooftop lunches with light cuddling, the small escapes and rescues of Pon-chan—that summer finally seemed to crest.

By then, my palm strikes no longer felt like random slaps. They landed correctly and cleanly. My footwork was still clumsy, but it felt less like I was stumbling and more like I was actively choosing where to step.

“Aoi-chan,” I puffed one day, a towel draped around my neck after training. “Do you… think I’m improving?”

She studied me from head to toe, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took everything in from my stance to my breathing and the way I held my shoulders without realizing it.

“You’re definitely less likely to get hurt if someone shoves you now,” she said at last.

I blinked. “…Is that supposed to be encouraging?”

She laughed under her breath. “Yes. And also you’re doing great. I’m not just saying your legs are stronger. You react faster. You don’t freeze when I grab you anymore.”

She proved it by catching my wrist.

My body moved before my brain could even panic. Twist, rotate, break free. My palm lifted automatically toward her shoulder in the follow up that Aoi drilled into me so many days ago.

“See…” she said, a warm pride blooming across her face. “If that had been some creep grabbing you… they would’ve been very surprised by your reaction time. But don’t hold back against them if it happens.”

“…!” A little giggle escaped me before I could stop it. “I guess me too,” I mumbled, though I couldn’t smother the small, glowing swell of pride in my chest.

“We’ve got plenty of time,” she said. “We’ll build you up more. Slowly.”

Three months…

Why did that number stick so firmly in my mind?

Homeroom that afternoon buzzed more than usual.

Megumi was practically vibrating in her seat even before Kurosawa-sensei walked in. Hinata kept glancing toward the window, as if something exciting might appear there at any second.

“What’s going on?” I whispered to Aoi-chan as we took our seats.

“No idea,” she replied. “Megumi looks like she’s about to spontaneously combust, though. I wonder what’s up.”

The door slid open.

Kurosawa Haruka-sensei stepped in with her usual stack of folders, wearing a different kind of smile—one that tugged faintly at the corners of her mouth.

“Rise!” Daichi barked automatically.

We stood, bowed, and then reseated ourselves.

Once we’d settled, Kurosawa-sensei cleared her throat lightly.

“Today, we have a few special announcements,” she said. “I’ll start with the usual items… the midterm schedule, health committee reminders…”

Groans rippled through the class at the word midterm.

“But,” she added, her eyes glinting behind her glasses, “after that, something many of you have been asking about since the start of the term.”

Megumi practically bounced out of her seat.

We suffered through the midterm discussion, the health notes, the usual reminders. My brain filed them away somewhere between this will probably be big and I’ll worry after finding out.

Then Kurosawa-sensei set the attendance ledger aside and picked up a different stack of papers. They had a blue header.

“As you all know,” she said, “every year, second-year students participate in a certain… educational event.”

Hinata clasped her hands dramatically. “Is it happening? Is it really?”

Kurosawa-sensei smiled. “Yes, Mori-san.”

She held up the paper.

“This year’s destination for the second-year overnight learning excursion will be…”

She paused for effect.

“Shirasuna Seaside Study Center.”

For a heartbeat, there was silence.

Then the classroom exploded.

“Eeeeeh? The beach?!”

“Are we really going?”

“I need to buy a new swimsuit—”

“It’s a study center,” Daichi gasped faintly. “The keyword is studying—”

“Shirasuna,” Aoi repeated under her breath, her lips curling into a triumphant grin. “Nice. This is a perfect chance to play volleyball with the beach girls.”

My heart thumped loudly.

I shot her a look, narrowing my eyes. “Beach girls,” huh?

My turn to be jealous this time…

Still—

A warm flutter exploded in my chest.

A school trip to the beach! With Aoi-chan… and she’s going to wear a swimsuit!

This was going to be… incredible!

“Quiet, quiet,” Kurosawa-sensei said, clapping once. “I know that you’re all excited! I’d be more worried if you weren’t. I’ll pass out the relevant information sheets now. Please bring them home and get your guardians’ signatures as soon as possible.”

She looked at Daichi and instructed, “Please collect these and distribute them in the back row.”

He bowed and straightened, taking the stacks of papers. He walked to the far end of the classroom and began handing them out to the students seated in the back. One desk was empty, so he started one row forward in that column instead.

When my paper reached me, I passed two remaining forward, my hands trembling with excitement as I read.

Shirasuna Seaside Study Center. Three days, two nights.

There were dates and times printed.

A program schedule: shoreline environmental studies, group activities, free time in the evenings.

There was a small box at the bottom: Check if you have any concerns about swimming or any health conditions you may have.

Aoi leaned close across the row separating us, her shoulder brushing mine.

“Hey,” she whispered, wearing a big grin.

“Y-yeah?” I asked.

DOKI-DOKI

She tapped the page. “This is going to be SO awesome!” she said. “We’re still going to train when we can, but otherwise, our vacation has arrived!”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I said, grinning.

She grinned with me, taking my hand and clasping it tightly across the gap between our desks.

After a while, I found myself staring at the infosheet with a tiny smile tugging at my lips.

When my eyes drifted sideways, I couldn’t help noticing Riko sitting a little straighter than usual at her desk, her gaze gliding over the page with an unusually focused interest. Her lips were curved upward too, but subtly.

She looked pleased to me anyway. Quietly excited felt more like the right term.

She was probably just as happy as everyone else.

Who wouldn’t be?

Yuna tilted her head, already marking something on her paper.

Megumi suddenly shot both hands into the air. “Sensei! Sensei! How daring can our swimsuits be?” she asked, punctuating it with an exaggerated wink.

The class collectively gasped, a wave of noise erupting—especially from the boys.

Kurosawa-sensei exhaled, the sigh of a woman already anticipating the downside of such a trip. Paperwork.

“Hanawa-san, keep it tasteful,” she said. “One-pieces are recommended. Two-pieces are acceptable with certain provisions. If it’s held together by string alone, the answer is no.”

The class burst into laughter.

Pon-chan, in his cage by the window, scrubbed his face, watching the light playing off the paper sheets, his dark eyes bright.

My fingers flipped and toyed with the edge of my form.

The weeks behind me already felt like a dream I never wanted to wake from.

And now… a new one was forming on the horizon.

The beach. The ocean. Warm sand between my toes. And Aoi-chan right there with me… Aoi-chan in a swimsuit.

”Kyaaaaaaaaa!!”

The squeal burst out before I could even pretend I hadn’t made that noise. All around me, the other girls were doing the same, voices overlapping in excited shrieks and laughter, and just like that my embarrassment vanished. I let myself give in to it completely, swept up in the noise and the feeling, my heart racing as the future rushed toward us.