Shinrabansho: Myriad Souls

Pon-chan’s cage sat near my chair. He’d been a perfect little angel on the way back, which really meant that he’d been unconscious the whole time. Even now, he was a soft coil of fur tucked into himself like a fuzzy little hand warmer.

Kurosawa-sensei had already made her announcement, and it was like she’d dropped a lit match into a room full of dry paper.

“Cultural festival!” someone shouted again, like we’d all somehow forgotten.

“A play, really? That’s such a pain!”

“It’s the best part of the year, though!”

“Princess candidates wanted! Hey, Hinata, you’d be cute as the princess! You should sign up!”

“Shut up! There are WAY better choices than her!”

“She’s a Madonna, idiot! It doesn’t get much better than that!”

The poster on the bulletin board screamed color.

Cultural Festival Coming Soon!

Class Play Voting Tomorrow!

Princess & Prince Play Candidates Wanted!

(Chosen story pending agreement!)

It was covered in so much glue and glitter, I wondered if I was still in Middle School.

I stared at the poster until my throat went dry.

Aoi smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Hehehe… How interesting.”

Riko’s smile stayed small, unreadable. “Pft… all that glitter. This class never fails to embarrass itself. Who stayed behind to make it that sparkly?” She raised both arms and fluttered her fingers sarcastically. 

Aoi snorted.

Yuna’s expression was gentler, her eyes bright with infectious curiosity and excitement. “It should be fun.”

Fun. 

I was definitely looking forward to the festival, because that meant good food, games, yukata, and more… but this time it also meant getting so busy with the play Kurosawa-sensei had volunteered us for that Aoi might not be able to keep training me seriously. It would probably swallow up our time at the end of the day.

My chest did that stupid thing it sometimes did, tightening, then fluttering, as if the word ‘fun’ was a hook someone had slipped under my ribs. I wasn’t so sure. 

I didn’t have any memories of acting in any play. I waited for a moment and there was no rush of memories to reassure me.

Hmmmm…

That little voice that had been quieter since my skinship trip woke up and cringed in anxiety.

“Okay,” Kurosawa-sensei said, clapping her hands twice. “Calm down, everyone! Or at least pretend to be. Since we’re basically out of time for lessons today, we’re using homeroom to decide which stories you’re voting on tomorrow with the time we have left.”

A girl near the window yelled, “Can we do Cinderella?”

“That one might be kind of fun!”

Another yelled louder, “It’s got to be Sleeping Beauty!”

“Isn’t that the one with the swamp witch?”

“I think you’re thinking about the one with the Ogre.”

“No! Snow White!”

“Everyone does that one…”

“Rapunzel would be much more fun to do!”

“Who’s going to put up with letting someone climb up their hair?!”

“Wait, wait—what about that one with all those frogs?”

“Kero!”

Kurosawa-sensei pointed at the boy who suggested the latest idea without even looking. “No… not that one.”

The room exploded again.

Apparently Kurosawa-sensei had decided to use her vetoing powers.

I glanced at Aoi-chan. Her smile widened a little, like she was enjoying the chaos, at least on principle.

Megumi rested her chin on her hand, watching the boys like they were a mildly amusing documentary. Riko appeared thoughtful, both of her arms crossed on her chest, her fingers idly tapping. Her eyes flitted towards me and her lips quirked on one side. Yuna’s gaze drifted toward me as well, but lingered in a way that made my skin warm, even though she didn’t smile.

I don’t know what to make of that look she’s giving me…

“Sleeping Beauty is the best one I heard,” someone said. “It’s perfect! It had it all and even a wicked witch—”

“C’mon… they all seem to have wicked witches!” Someone else laughed.

“That one’s too boring, and way overdone,” a girl snapped, flipping her ponytail. “It’s literally just ‘sleep, kiss, wake up, fin.’”

“Shut up, that’s romantic, like Romeo and Juliet!”

“Yeah… just not as tragic.”

“Cinderella doesn’t, though…”

“Yeah… but it has wicked sisters and that nasty stepmother.”

“What about Romeo and Juliet, seriously?”

“Romeo and Juliet aren’t princes and princesses, so no… plus that’s way more common than the other suggestions!”

“Romantic for who? Ugh…”

Kurosawa-sensei rubbed her temples like she’d been born exhausted. “We are not doing anything too complicated here,” she announced. “If you choose a story that has fighting, we’ll need fighting choreography. And some fake weapons. All kinds of props. We’ll make it all ourselves with the school’s resources.”

That met with a series of whistles and boos.

Kurosawa-sensei smiled sweetly. “I’ll assign extra cleanup duty to anyone who keeps booing.”

The boos died instantly.

It was amazing, honestly, how quickly people could react in self-interest.

The debate swirled throughout homeroom like a storm, shifting and reforming. 

Potential princes and princesses were thrown around like yen coins. Names were called. People got nominated without consent, even though we weren’t supposed to vote on that today.

And then… inevitably… My name came up.

“Shinohara-san!”

“Shinohara-chan would make for such a cute princess!”

I couldn’t help blushing. I hadn’t even formally met her. I wondered why someone I didn’t really know was thinking of me that way. Had something changed?

“SEE?! She’s basically glowing!”

“Doesn’t that mean she might be radioactive?”

“Shut up! She’s radiant! There’s a difference, idiot!”

“Radioactive would mean the kind of beauty that kills people who get too close…”

“Wouldn’t that describe Kurobane-san better?”

“You’re an idiot!”

Someone several desks behind me said, not even quietly, “She’s like a soft idol type.”

I sucked in a quick breath.

An idol… me? What?

My mind jumped, stupidly fast, to the posters on my bedroom wall back at home… bright, glossy faces frozen mid-dance, perfect smiles, perfect hair, perfect everything. I’d never really questioned why I’d collected them so obsessively in the past. It had been mostly just background noise in my life.

And then, as if the word idol had flipped a page in a forgotten scrapbook, a memory surfaced, warm and embarrassingly vivid.

“Mommy! I want to be an idol like them when I grow up!”

“No,” Mom had snapped immediately, like she’d been waiting to say it. “You’ll get eaten alive in that industry. Just stay in school.”

“But, Mommy… they’re so beautiful and amazing…”

“No.”

I felt my mouth tug into a faint, private smile.

At one point between elementary and middle school, I’d dreamed of doing that. I could almost see myself almost from the outside, so little, earnestly trying to copy her choreography in front of the TV until my legs burned each day. Rewinding the same parts over and over, my legs aching, my palms sweaty, my cheeks hot with frustration.

And the worst part was that I’d always been bad at it.

Always a half-beat late. Always stepping wrong. Always lacking rhythm, no matter how hard I tried.

It was… weirdly ironic, hearing someone saying it now. Like they were pointing at a version of me that had always been just out of reach, forcing me to remember her.

It still startled me sometimes, how memories would surface feeling alien at first, and then, within seconds, I’d realize they were mine.

I was surprised by how easily I accepted things now, especially after just two days at Shirasuna. By how the old tension, the sharp, panicked edges that used to rise up from somewhere deep inside, just weren’t there anymore.

It felt like I’d lived in this skin my whole young life.

That thought was strange. And here it was again.

Aoi-chan abruptly scooted her desk across the aisle up against mine and placed her hand on my knee.

You’re fine, Sumire-chan.

I put my hand on hers and our fingers laced together.

I swallowed, forcing myself to breathe.

“Shinohara-chan!” Yahiro called. 

I jumped, jerking my hand away, flushing.

Had we been caught? I turned to look at him.

“Put your name in!” He yelled. “Only you can be our princess!”

“I—” My voice cracked slightly, and I cleared my throat. “I’ll… think about it.”

That only made everyone yell louder.

Riko leaned toward me. “They’ve made up their minds… and I don’t disagree with their choice.” She winked.

“Riko…” I muttered, helpless.

Her eyes flicked to my mouth for a fraction of a second, and my stomach flipped over. “You don’t have to decide today,” she said, as if she were being kind. “But tomorrow, you’ll definitely be chosen.”

Yuna tilted her head. “She’s right. If you don’t submit your name, they’ll write it in anyway.”

“I guess so…” But why me?

Aoi-chan exhaled through her nose, half amused, half annoyed. “Baka.”

“What?” I whispered.

“Not you, Sumire-chan,” Aoi-chan said immediately, and her fingers slid under the desks and caught mine. She gave mine a quick squeeze. “Them. They’re acting like you’re a prize they’re entitled to nominate as they want. You’re mine. They can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do with me around.”

My cheeks warmed. “It’s just a play, Aoi-chan.”

Aoi-chan’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Mm. You really want that role? You want to be a princess?”

That mm of hers meant she was already imagining a chosen Prince trying to put the moves on me, and deciding when she’d have to break their wrist.

Riko watched Aoi-chan’s expression, her focus sharpening. Her eyes widened a fraction, and she grimaced.

“Nah—turn them down, Sumire-chan!” Riko blurted, then immediately faltered. “W-well… I mean… that is…” Her voice trailed off into a mutter as she retreated into her own thoughts.

Yuna said nothing. She just gazed at me calmly and deliberately, nothing timid, nor shy in her look.

Her eyes reminded me of her offer last night.

Then you need to study more. I volunteer as a tutor… for anatomy.

She rested her chin in her palms, watching me quietly.

DOKI-DOKI… BADUMP

Somehow, I had become the center of a storm that I’d never asked for.

Kurosawa-sensei clapped again. “Alright! The vote is tomorrow. But we need a shortlist today. So, stories with princes and princesses first obviously. Keep it simple.”

“Sleeping Beauty!” the chorus repeated.

“That one’s already on the list,” Kurosawa-sensei said.

Someone scoffed. “That one’s old.”

“It’s classic!”

“It’s really lazy!”

“It’s totally overdone, as I’ve said!”

“I want one with a witch!”

“It kind of has one in it!”

Yuna lifted her hand.

The room quieted, mostly because it was unexpected.

“Yes, Arisugawa?” Kurosawa-sensei asked.

Yuna stood, smoothing her skirt. She spoke calmly, like she’d already thought it through. “Sleeping Beauty is simple enough to stage without too much effort. It also gives room for a villain role with plenty of drama.”

A murmur rolled through the class.

A boy near the front blinked. “Wait… who’s going to play the villain then?”

The classroom fell silent and everyone looked at each other.

Yuna’s smile was mild. “If the class wants, I wouldn’t mind taking that role.”

The murmur swelled instantly into excited noise.

“Arisugawa-san as the witch would be insane! She’s one of the Madonnas!”

“She’d be terrifying!”

“No, she’d just be hot.”

“Wait… is that witch supposed to be a sexy role?”

“Kinda…”

“Hell yes! Don’t you remember her? She’s tall, pale, wears dark robes, and has this really wicked face!”

“Yeah… but Arisugawa-san doesn’t have a wicked face…”

“Mm… I don’t see it…”

Yuna turned.

Her expression shifted, subtly, smoothly into something perfectly, exquisitely self-satisfied, calm confidence sharpened into pure, theatrical malice.

It was the kind of look that promised curses, doom, and impeccable posture.

I stared at her transformation, stunned.

“Oh wow…” someone muttered.

“Never mind. She does have a wicked face, come to think of it.”

“I never imagined that an angel could turn into a devil!”

“She’s a succubus…”

The whole class cheered loudly.

Riko leaned back in her chair. “Sleeping Beauty,” she said, like she was savoring the words. “Her name was Princess Aurora, wasn’t it?”

My throat tightened.

Riko’s gaze slid to me again, unhurried. “Even though it means whoever gets to be the prince, the role suits you.”

“Don’t even start with that kind of flattery,” I muttered, but my face was already hot.

Aoi-chan’s fingers tightened around mine under the desk possessively.

Megumi, who had been listening with the expression of someone watching a car crash in slow motion, leaned over from the seat in front of us. “If we vote for Sleeping Beauty tomorrow, we’ll need costumes,” she said. “Not trash-bag capes.”

Hinata, sitting to the side, flinched like she’d been shot. “Don’t look at me, Megumi-chan.”

Megumi’s eyes lit up. “Hinata-chan! You’re good at sewing… who else could do it?”

“I’d rather not be dragged into something like this,” Hinata snapped, but her ears were turning pink. “Besides, I’m not acting any part.”

“Don’t be like that, Hinata-chan,” Megumi said instantly. “That’s not like you. Be our chief costume designer.”

Hinata stared at her.

“C’mon… c’mon… c’mon!” Megumi twitched her fingers at Hinata.

Hinata flinched, looking around at the chaos around her.

“If you don’t agree, I’ll make you play a tree again.” Megumi cackled. There was something in her performance that could compete with Yuna for the part of the wicked witch. 

Hinata flinched. “Ugh… Fine. I’m not playing the part of a tree again.”

Several students laughed around her, but the girls drowned out the laughter, immediately started talking over each other.

“Can you make a prince outfit?”

“A cape!”

“A crown!”

“A dress for our Princess Aurora!”

Hinata held up both hands, getting more attention than she wanted all at once. “One at a time! If you want something that doesn’t look like complete garbage, you need to give me some time.”

“We got a month before we perform. Is that enough time?”

Hinata hesitated, but nodded. “Plenty, I guess.”

Kurosawa-sensei snapped her fingers. “See? That’s what I like! Organization. Looks like we’re shortlisting Sleeping Beauty.”

A cheer went up, although there were a couple of boos mixed in. The latter were drowned out.

“But!” Kurosawa-sensei added sharply. “Casting is tomorrow. Which means, if you want to play a role, write your name on the sign-up sheet before you leave homeroom today. We’ll still put that to a vote tomorrow.”

A boy yelled, “Someone has to be the prince too!”

“Who wants to be Shinohara-san’s prince?”

“I’d sign up!”

“I’ll do it!”

Aoi-chan’s eyes narrowed at all the boys that clamoured over that part now.

Riko’s smile deepened.

Yuna’s expression had returned to normal, but her gaze flicked toward Aoi-chan.

Prince candidates.

Princess candidates.

Tomorrow.

Something in that word, tomorrow, made that little voice in my heart react.

My stomach did a small queasy flip as I realized something terrifying.

I muttered to myself, “I’m not sure how well I could handle kissing a boy.”

Aoi-chan’s mouth curved into a faint smirk. “Pft. You’re only thinking about that part now?”

“AOI!” I stared at her, openly pleading. Please. Save me!

“Don’t worry,” she said immediately, leaning until her hair brushed against my cheek, her voice dropping, warm and serious.

“If you don’t want to play the role of princess, you don’t have to. I’ll handle it, if I have to.”

Riko hummed. “You can’t always fix everything for Sumire.”

Why does Riko want me to be the princess so much?!

Aoi-chan looked at her with a frown.

Riko’s smile stayed sweet.

The air between them felt like a thin wire being pulled taut.

Yuna spoke quietly, not looking at either of them. “Sumire can handle herself well enough.”

I swallowed. Does she want to put me to sleep that badly?

I wasn’t sure how I felt about this.

Remembering what Aoi had said just now made my chest warm.

I love you, Aoi-chan…

Despite my fears and anxiety, I wanted to be someone who could handle herself.

… Not just because someone told me I could.

But because I could feel it in my bones.

The chime rang not long after, that bright, merciless sound that meant the school day was ending. Chairs scraped on the floor. People surged toward the sign-up sheet like it was a battlefield.

I stayed seated for a moment, staring at my hands.

Aoi-chan nudged me. “Hey.”

“What?”

Her gaze was steady. “You’ve been staring at that poster like it was a snake.”

“I just…” I swallowed. “It’s a lot… playing any role in a play is a big deal… but to be a leading role too… And that kiss…”

Aoi-chan’s eyes softened. “Yeah.”

Riko stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Come on. If you don’t write your name, they might write it for you in something you want even less… the witch, a toadstool outside her hut…”

Aoi rolled her eyes. “Maleficent doesn’t live in a hut, nor in a swamp.”

“Oh…” Riko frowned.

“That’s not—” I started.

Riko’s grin flashed. “C’mon princess.”

Yuna rose smoothly and quietly as well. “We’ll go together.”

So we did.

In the crush near the front, I felt other students brush my uniform, my hair, my shoulders getting jostled, girls leaning in, boys crowding close in, everyone loud and excited and clustered together.

It might have felt a little overwhelming a few weeks ago.

But it wasn’t so bad today.

I breathed as I worked myself through the line with Aoi and Riko.

When I reached the sheet, I hesitated.

Princess candidates already had a list forming.

Someone had written my name halfway down without my permission, Sumire Shinohara, in messy handwriting.

I stared.

Aoi-chan leaned over my shoulder. “I’m going to find out whatever jerk wrote you in without your permission.”

“Aoi—” I shook my head.

“I’m kidding,” she said. “Mostly.”

Riko reached around me and took the pen from my hands. “We’re fixing this in a cool way.”

“Huh?”

Before I could stop her, she crossed my name out.

For a moment, I took a breath of relief, but also felt a little disappointment.

She scribbled it again on the list under the prince candidates.

I blinked. “Riko!”

Riko’s eyes glittered. “What? You said you didn’t want to be humiliated.”

“That’s not—!”

Aoi-chan froze. “Wait.”

Yuna leaned in slightly, her voice calm. “Oh… that is good!”

I stared at my name under Prince, feeling my face heat so fast it was like someone had slapped me.

Riko capped the pen with a neat click. “Imagine it. A handsome prince with a pretty face!”

Aoi-chan’s expression tightened.

She wasn’t amused.

Her face expressed something else.

“Riko,” Aoi-chan said, her voice low. “Why did you do that, idiot? This doesn’t solve anything. She still has to kiss someone.”

Riko smiled innocently. “I did it because it’s funny… but unless the idiots vote for a boy as princess, she’ll be kissing a girl now.”

“What’s so funny about this? Because you want her on stage wearing a prince outfit?” Aoi-chan snapped.

Riko’s eyes didn’t move. “You don’t like my solution? Really?”

Aoi-chan’s jaw flexed.

I stood there between them like a fuse.

Yuna’s gaze slid over my face, slowly assessing and after a moment she murmured, “This will work. She could have some very bishounen features with the right makeup, but that might not even matter.”

Aoi-chan’s hand closed around my wrist. “If she’s the prince, she’s still kissing someone… So who’s going to be the princess?”

Riko’s smile sharpened. “Well that’s obvious.”

She wrote her own name on the list of princess candidates.

“Me.”

My jaw dropped.

Aoi-chan’s eyes widened.

Then she looked like she wanted to hit her repeatedly with a chair.

Aoi yanked the pen from Riko’s hand and scribbled her name onto the princess list, right under Riko’s, shooting her a sharp look as she did.

The classroom around us continued buzzing, oblivious, but the small circle we’d formed felt sealed off. It was almost like its own little world.

Yuna’s lips curved faintly. “That would certainly upset the whole class.”

Riko shrugged, unfazed. “If that’s true, they won’t vote for me. We’ll see who wins.”

Aoi’s grip tightened around my wrist. “Sumire… If you change back to a princess, I’ll be your prince,” she said flatly. “So think about it. We still have time to switch our names.”

“But if I did that… the prince might…” My lips tightened. 

Riko tilted her head, her lips quirking. “Pft. Naturally. Her charming prince on a white horse.”

Behind us, Megumi, who had apparently been there the entire time, let out a delighted, unmistakably evil laugh as though she was trying out to play Maleficent.

“Oh, kami. That’s amazing!”

Hinata stared down at the sheet in shock. “I wonder who’s going to win. There are so many names on these lists already…” She pressed her fingers together, already thinking ahead. “I’ll have to take lots of measurements once things are settled. I’ll start drafting concepts tonight and choose colors once the votes are in.”

I thought she didn’t want to do this… I couldn’t help staring at Hinata.

At that moment, Kurosawa-sensei strolled past, catching sight of the gathering tension, and slowed.

Her eyes dropped to the list.

She stopped and looked at me and Riko and then Aoi, tilting her head thoughtfully.

Aoi’s name had been scribbled in aggressively, like she was stabbing the paper.

Kurosawa-sensei’s mouth twitched.

Then she said, deadpan, “I’m suddenly very excited for tomorrow. This should be interesting.”

And then she walked away.

I stood there, my face burning.

Aoi-chan leaned in and muttered in my ear, “If they make you wear a prince outfit, I’m not responsible for whatever happens.”

“What happens?” I whispered.

Aoi-chan’s voice dropped. “I’ll bite you.”

My jaw dropped and my entire body flashed hot. “AOI!”

Riko’s laugh was quiet. Yuna’s gaze lingered, unblinking, like she was seeing something she wanted but wouldn’t name it.

Megumi fanned herself dramatically. “This play is going to rock!”