Chapter 25 Intro Preview (Patreon)

(didn't expect to see it so soon, huh? :) hope you'll enjoy what I have in store!)

Chapter 25: Plan of Action

"Hmmm." Makoto sat there in thought for a few moments before her train of consciousness was derailed by one of Aomori's comments.

"You wouldn't know her." She said not even looking up from her book. "This Hayashi girl falls completely under the radar. Not only is she a 1st-year, but up until joining the track club— temporarily— she ran straight home from school almost every single day and wasn't even in any clubs. The only interesting thing about her is that some people in her class spread rumors that she ate her ex-boyfriend. But, unfortunately, it turns out he was just into mouthplay."

"How did you—"

"Chihiro forced me to exploit my news club connections since she didn't have you to mouth off to for the past couple of days."

By this point in their friendship, Aomori's knowledge of people in Hanichi was second to only one and that fact didn't really surprise her as much as it should have. She couldn’t really call it creepy, considering how much she's exploited that very same type of knowledge from her in the past. Letting out a subtle thanks, she returned to sipping her melon soda. The sound of Chihiro chattering about her track team problems slowly faded into the background as the seed of an idea began to form in her mind. That very same seed began to sprout roots as she started listening to Chihiro again.

"...I mean, the rest of my girls handle events way better than her, but when it comes to speed, that little shrimp is one of the fastest I've seen in a while!" Eating the rest of her food with an undeservedly smug smile on her face. “Not as good as me or ‘she who shall not be named,’ of course, but definitely in the top 10— no, maybe even top 5…”

“And she’s quitting because she isn’t losing weight?” Makoto asked.

“Ugh, don’t even get me started!” Chihiro groaned, slumping onto the table. “I totally get caring about your figure and crap, but I don’t wanna hear those words ever again. It’s all she talks about!”

"You're the same way aren't you, Makoto?" Aomori said, her completely flat voice making it almost impossible to determine whether or not it was a joke.

"Jeez, I'm not that vain!"

"You've been sipping on the same glass of melon soda for the last half hour and aren't even halfway through…" Looking up from her book, Aomori quickly compared her and Chihiro's side of the table to Makoto's. "And that's the only thing you've ordered all night!" She raised her voice, showing a slight bit of emotion in protest of Makoto’s questionable dieting.

“I’m just too stressed out to have an appetite rn…” Her lame excuse made both Chihiro and Aomori sigh. While that may have seemed like some flimsy excuse, it was pretty much the truth. Despite being emboldened with newfound confidence thanks to the idea currently brewing within her head, Makoto still felt bad about everything that happened during the meeting. She really didn’t have any appetite and even hanging out with her friends to take the edge off couldn’t help her. Their group chat continued for half an hour after that until Aomori and Chihiro had to go.

“Thanks for not being super mad at us, Mako-chi! We’ll make it up to you, we swear.” Chihiro apologized while Aomori just bowed to show her remorse. Both of them paid for the meal before packing up their stuff and leaving Makoto to ponder to herself some more. But before Chihiro left, she had a favor to ask of Makoto.

“Oh, btw Mako-chi, can you grab my sneaker? I kinda kicked it over to your side while we were chatting.” She asked, rubbing her socked foot against one of Makoto’s legs. Recoiling in disgust as the track star’s post-practice foot sweat brushed against her shin, Makoto plugged her nose and reached down under the table.

“Ugh, no wonder nobody was sitting around us…” Holding the extremely well-worn shoe as far from her face as possible, she quickly handed it over to Chihiro. “You gotta get some new shoes.” With that last piece of advice that Chihiro intentionally ignored, she was off and Makoto was left alone at the table. Looking at the time, Makoto also decided to go home to think about her secret idea some more. But before that, she had something more pressing to attend to. Back when Chihiro rubbed her foot against her, sweat wasn’t the only thing she felt…

“Oh course…” It was very subtle, but looking under the table, Makoto saw something something quivering beneath one of the wrinkles in her loose sock. Sighing, she gathered up her stuff and grabbed the tiny with the hand she used to pick up Chihiro's rank sneaker before leaving the restaurant. 

Going to somewhere more secluded, she looked around to make sure nobody was nearby and began questioning to the not-so-mysterious tiny…