—
The door creaked open, and Tomiko stepped inside. Diya, Natsumi, and I turned as she joined us at the table.
“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” she said, taking the seat beside Natsumi.
“It’s fine,” I replied. “Let’s get straight to the point; someone is targeting one of you.”
“Huh?” Natsumi said, confused. “What do you mean?”
“Someone is calling themselves ‘the Onlooker’. They’ve made it clear that their goal is to get one of you expelled.”
I paused for a moment before continuing, choosing my words carefully.
I’d chosen to inform Diya, along with Natsumi and Tomiko, about the Onlooker. They deserved to know what was happening beyond the surface of the test. Technically, it didn’t breach my responsibilities as an observer. What I was revealing had nothing to do with the mechanics or outcomes of the special exam, but an external threat acting outside it.
“The Onlooker?” Tomiko said with a faint grin. “That’s dramatic. So what’s the deal?”
“It's a bit of a long story, but I got a message warning that someone close to me will be expelled,” I said. “I suspect it’s Diya, but both of you should stay alert, just in case.”
Natsumi sighed softly, smiling. “I see. I made you worry.”
She wasn't wrong. Deep down, it was Natsumi’s position at the bottom of the leaderboard that pushed me to bring this up in the first place.
“Are you sure your ranking isn’t being tampered with?” I asked.
“I’m certain,” she said, her tone firm. “You can trust me on that, Marcus.”
“If that’s what all this is about, then don’t worry,” Tomiko said as she stood up, her expression hardening. “If someone wants to make me their enemy, they’d better be ready for the storm.”
She walked out, the door clicking shut behind her.
Silence lingered until I turned to Diya, who sat pensively, chin resting on her hand.
“Diya?” I asked.
She blinked, straightening. “Oh—right. I found something earlier. Come with me.”
Without another word, she stood and strode into the hallway. Natsumi and I exchanged a look before following her.
We ended up in the storeroom, dimly lit by a single overhead light. Boxes were stacked haphazardly along the shelves.
“Why were you even in here?” I asked.
She grinned. “Does it matter? Look what I found!”
She pulled a box from the shelf—it was .
“Either of you played it before?” she asked, eyes sparkling with excitement.
“No, just heard of it,” I said.
“Same,” Natsumi added.
A soft voice came from the doorway. “Is that ?”
We turned to see Ayaka standing there.
“It is!” Diya beamed, and at this point, I knew there was no stopping her. “You know how to play?”
Ayaka nodded. “Yeah. I could join if you’re looking for players.”
Diya’s face lit up, and before anyone could react, she threw her arms around Ayaka. “Yes! Let’s go!”
The ball of energy grabbed our hands and practically dragged us toward the common room. A few students were chatting there, so Diya veered to a quieter corner and dropped to her knees, unpacking the game.
Natsumi and I sat beside her, skimming the instructions while Ayaka calmly rolled up her sleeves like she was preparing for something far more serious than a party game.
“Alright,” Diya said with a mischievous grin. “Let’s make it through a round in one piece.”
“I’m terrible at drawing, so consider yourselves warned,” Ayaka said, picking up a marker like it was a scalpel.
“You say that,” I teased, “but you look like you’re about to win this.”
She laughed softly, eyes closing for a brief moment before smiling.
Diya rolled the die, checked the list, and scribbled in her sketchbook before passing it on. We followed suit, turning the page to begin drawing.
A moment later, Diya tapped the table to signal the pass.
Sketchbooks rotated clockwise. I glanced at the one Ayaka handed me and froze.
“Terrible drawing skills, she says…” I muttered, eyeing her surprisingly neat lines before sneaking a glance at her.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
The books made their way back to their owners.
“And so it begins,” Diya announced, flipping open hers. “The word was… spaceship!”
She turned the page to the original sketch of a rocket that was well-done, clearly a spaceship. But each flip made it stranger: a flying saucer, then an oval with steam lines, and finally… a full plate of spaghetti.
“Spaghetti?” Natsumi burst out laughing. “How did that even happen?”
I raised my hands. “I’m just wondering where the meatballs came from!”
“You drew this! We should be asking you that!” she shot back, barely containing her laughter.
Next was Natsumi’s: her pineapple had somehow evolved into a deranged porcupine. Ayaka’s rollercoaster became a stick figure flying through the air.
Finally, mine. “My word was octopus,” I said, turning pages. It started aquatic enough, but by the end, it looked more like a vine plant.
“Is that… poison ivy?” Ayaka asked, giggling.
Our laughter echoed through the room, drawing a small crowd. A few students leaned in, curious.
“What game is this?” someone whispered.
Diya perked up instantly, like she’d been waiting for that very question.
“This glorious chaos,” she declared, “is ! Think of it as a game of telephone, but with drawings.”
She dropped into a squat and began miming the actions with exaggerated movements. “You roll the die to pick a word, write it down, then draw it. The next person guesses the drawing, then draws that guess, and so on until it loops back—completely mangled!”
A wave of murmurs rippled through the crowd, many clearly tempted to try the game themselves.
I felt a light tap on my shoulder and turned to find Natsumi beside me, holding out a chilled bottle of Capris Soda.
“Here,” she said, wiggling it at me.
“How’d you manage to sneak off and grab this?” I asked, genuinely curious about the secrets to her ninja techniques as I took it from her.
She shrugged, pulling out her own bottle from behind her back. “Not important.”
“Your turn next time. And I want a Pocari,” she said before taking a sip.
“Hai hai,” I sighed, twisting mine open.
She smiled, satisfied with the deal.
“Alright! Who’s ready for the next round?” Diya called out, her voice carrying through the room as several hands shot up.
I glanced across the room and spotted Tomiko with a drink in one hand and a plate of snacks in the other.
Best not to disturb the queen during her banquet, I thought with a smirk.
—
—
The sound of running water mingled with the faint aroma of lavender curling through the warm steam. I sank deeper into the bath, heat soaking into my bones as a small towel rested over my face. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been there—ten minutes, maybe more—but it didn’t matter.
The distant chatter and splashing footsteps had faded into a muffled blur. In this quiet cocoon, I was alone with my thoughts. Everything was unfolding as planned. Just three more days left.
“Diya,” a familiar voice called, snapping me out of my daze.
I didn’t need to lift the towel to recognise Natsumi’s tone.
“Yup?” I replied lazily.
“It’s time for a serious talk,” she said. I peeked out from under the towel to see her nearby.
“Huh?” I sat up slightly, the towel sliding down to my chest as laughter broke out around me. I looked around—yep, it was just us: Year 11 girls. Everyone else had already left the bathhouse. So they’d planned this.
Great.
Even Tomiko was there, sitting off to the side. She looked disinterested, but the fact that she hadn’t left said otherwise.
“Marcus this, Marcus that,” Savannah sighed, flicking water from her fingers. “Forget him. Tell me something about Yoshiro.”
“What…?” I muttered, trying to make sense of it all. “Okay, wait… everyone, slow down. Why are you all confronting me like this?”
“They think,” Ayaka said with a smile, “that since you spend a lot of time around them, you’ve got some valuable intel they can use to help their… romantic pursuits.”
I blinked. “Romantic… pursuits?” I repeated, then turned sharply to Natsumi. “Wait—do you—”
She cut me off with a laugh. “No, no. I don’t like Marcus that way. We’re just friends. I just thought you might have something I could tease him with.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding and sank deeper into the water. “Oh. Okay.”
Savannah stepped forward. “Well, I do like Yoshiro. Obviously. He’s the hottest guy in our year.”
“That’s actual bullshit,” Chanel snapped, climbing out of the pool to grab a towel. “Yoshiro is nowhere close.”
Savannah raised a brow and crossed her arms beneath the surface. “Oh? Then who are the hottest guys, in your expert opinion?”
Chanel flicked her damp hair smugly. “Arata, Katsumi, Ryo, Aryan, and Hachiro.”
I caught the faintest smirk on Tomiko’s face; she wasn’t even hiding her amusement.
Savannah narrowed her eyes. “Katsumi? Wow, you like the dumb ones, don’t you?”
“You’re one to talk,” Chanel shot back.
Savannah ignored her. “Yoshiro, Arata, Jaden, Ryo, and Marcus. That’s the real list.”
“This is so stupid,” Ran muttered, reclining against the edge of the bath with her arms spread out lazily. Her damp hair clung to her back as she stared up at the ceiling.
Savannah blinked, a flicker of realisation crossing her face. “Oh—sorry. Didn’t mean to mention your boyfriend.”
“I don’t mind,” Ran said flatly.
“She can’t really participate anyway, can she?” Kameko chimed in, inspecting her toes.
Ran sighed, saying nothing.
Savannah turned to her next target. “What about you, Kameko? Anyone you’re interested in?”
Kameko’s expression softened. “Not really,” she said quietly, looking away.
I watched her for a moment. What was that about?
Then Savannah scanned the rest of us. “Alright then. Yuka, Ayaka, Natsumi, Diya—what about you?”
Yuka, lounging with her arms crossed atop a folded towel, didn’t say a word. Her eyes half-lidded from the heat. After a moment, she simply closed them, clearly not interested in engaging.
Ayaka smiled faintly, tracing circles in the water.
Savannah pouted, then turned to Natsumi.
Natsumi tensed. Her cheeks were already flushed from the heat, but the moment everyone’s attention landed on her, she glanced down and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“What’s going on here?” Chanel asked, eyeing us suspiciously.
Yuka exhaled. “I have a boyfriend. That’s all I’ll say.”
A brief silence followed before Ayaka spoke. “Arata, Marcus, Jaden, Ryo, and Tristin. My top five.”
That left just me and Natsumi. I was already crafting a vague lie when another voice cut through the quiet.
“Arata being number one is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Tomiko said, tying her damp hair into a ponytail.
Everyone turned to her.
“Oh?” Natsumi said, irritation creeping into her tone. “Then please, enlighten us with the correct answer.”
Tomiko adjusted her towel and crossed her legs. “Marcus.”
“Marcus?” I repeated too quickly, too defensively.
“Yes, Marcus,” she said firmly, her blue eyes meeting mine through the steam. The intensity of her stare made me feel like she was trying to dissect my thoughts with nothing but her gaze.
I forced my face neutral even as something twisted in my chest. I wasn’t sure what it was—confusion? annoyance? possessiveness? I shoved it down. Now wasn’t the time.
“But don’t worry,” she added casually, resting her arm along the bath’s edge. “I’m not interested in dating him.”
“Uh… okay?” Natsumi said, raising a brow.
Tomiko shrugged. “You asked who’s the hottest. It’s him. Objectively.”
A few murmurs rippled through the group.
Then her smirk widened. “But just because I don’t want a relationship doesn’t mean I’d say no to an opportunity.”
The water lapped gently around her as her voice dropped slightly. “If Marcus ever wanted a one-time hookup…” She paused, then finished, “I wouldn’t say no. His body’s worth it.”
The statement detonated like a firecracker in the quiet bathhouse.
“What?!” I blurted before I could stop myself, echoed by nearly everyone else.