Panic at the Karaoke!?

“Miyaji, leave her out of this–”

“It’s more like you’re the one interrupting us, Iwasaki-kun.”

The crowd of students at the shoe lockers stopped packing up, forming a watch party of the spectacle. And who wouldn’t: the student council president being confronted by the vice president at the school entrance. The journalism club would be in paradise right now.

Was this one of Yoshino’s antics again? I’ve put up with his humiliation tactics….I don’t even care about those anymore.

But no one.

Absolutely no one.

No one fucking messes with Kaede.

***

Two weeks into the project, certain parts started to take shape. The fruits of our labor—or more of Sato’s labor.

I’m doing my part, somehow.

Of course, midterms were arriving at the end of the month, and that means time really was limited. I have my own studies to look after—it almost feels like a do-over of last year…and the year before that.

I typed away on my laptop, finishing up an assignment before the planned meeting time. A ray of sunshine distracted my eyesight for a moment, before I shifted my seat back a few centimeters. I took off my earbuds, listening to the low hum of the air conditioner as I readjusted to a more comfortable position.

Today was a shortened work day, because the angling club–I still can’t get over the name, but what would it be called then….the Tachibana troupe?– was hosting a karaoke outing this evening.

At this point, the four of us were virtually full-fledged members of the club. Honestly, I’m trying hard to think of any possibility I wouldn’t have joined, and none come to mind. Especially after I landed the bookstore job and became coworkers with Tachibana: that sealed my fate, no doubt about it.

And a karaoke bar…. When was the last time I’ve been to one…

“Let us run…let us run!! Farther than our regreettsss–”

I remember now, I must have been with Kaede and Shoko. I distinctly recall Kaede’s preference for lovey-dovey ballad-type songs, slightly out of tune but endearing.

And by the transitive property, those were mostly the songs I was familiar with from karaoke. Hold on, I can’t be caught singing those at the meetup tonight—or the nursery rhymes I know from Shoko.

I searched for a playlist of popular karaoke songs to play in the background: these should be fine in case I have to sing.

Should I look into English songs, maybe something that Sato and the others might know?

***

“Thank you!!!” Sato yelled into the mic as we all gave her a round of applause.

As the mic was passed around, I picked up my glass to drink. I ended up singing a popular song in Japanese earlier— definitely not the best singer by any means, but it went alright. Learning lyrics in English proved to be too difficult.

“Good job, Sato-san,” I congratulated her as she sat back down.

“Thanks!!” she cheered. “I’d sing that song in the car whenever it was on the radio.” She then pointed at Lafon. “But she was by far the star of the night.” Lafon gave a thumbs up as she sipped her drink.

I had to agree; Lafon has a great singing voice, and something about choosing a song in her native language elevated the performance. If Eris-sama had a singing performance, I don’t think Japan could handle the reaction. Watson also belted a rock song that had the group rocking their heads and chanting along; I had a feeling she channeled her inner ChocoNyan in the lyrics there. 

“Alright, I’ll be hopping back to the other room, we club leaders are having a quick meeting—but keep enjoying!” Tachibana waved us goodbye as she left the room.

“Totally not for some drink–,” Gotou chimed in, after which Tachibana started ushering him out the door.

“Keep walkin’ you–” Tachibana uttered. “Bye-bye!” she waved again. Ah, that’s her boyfriend.

“Reminds me,” her co-leader turned to her as he stood up to leave, “two first-years said they were running late; I’ll go and welcome them in.”

“Sorry, we were a bit late!” Two figures entered: a well-styled, slender guy with light brown hair, a tall, wider-framed athletic dude with short, jet-black hair.

I instantly recognized those two as the ice in the glass I was holding clinking around. Once I noticed, I relaxed my grip on the glass and set it back down.

The brown-haired one spoke first. “Greetings, everyone! I’m Masashi Yoshino!”

“Kenji Hayashi! Nice to meet you all.”

Those two.

What were they doing here? Was the universe so hell-bent on reviving my past from the dead?

Whatever, masking the sinking pit in my stomach was my priority now–

“Iwasaki-kun, no way!” Yoshino waved at me and walked over, Hayashi at his side.

“Iwasaki-kun, you know them as well?” Sato looked at me with curiosity.

“Yea-”

“We went to Fukuoka together,” Yoshino answered, taking a seat across from Sato. “Good times,” he smiled. “Sorry to interrupt, I’m just surprised to see my high school mate again. I don’t think we’ve met before–”

“Oh! I’m Serina Sato.”

“Sato…perhaps your paternal grandfather is Japanese?”

“No way! That’s right!”

“There’s Masashi for you,” Hayashi beamed.

As they conversed, I took the moment to collect my thoughts. I’ll probably be dragged into the conversation. The difference between today and the dinner last month is that Yoshino and Tanabe are two very different people. Hayashi joined in on the conversation, with the other international students now going through the small talk once again.

“Karaoke is always fun! Hey, Iwasaki-kun, the student council always liked going to karaoke, right?”

“That’s true, pretty often,” I responded. They went almost every week.

“I would join them once in a while,” he told the group. “Always a blast! I’m sure you would’ve enjoyed it too, Iwasaki-kun.”

What is this guy insinuating? I had my part-time job…and he’s leaving out the fact that they would go during student council hours while I stayed behind.

“Unfortunate. I had a busy schedule.” I shrugged.

Another clubmate turned to Yoshino. “Whoa, how many times have you been, uh..Yoshino–”

“Oh, just call me Masashi, easier that way for you guys. And…last year… at least twenty?”

“Twenty?!”

One of the students passed Yoshino the microphone, asking if he wanted to sing.

Boy, isn’t he the popular kid in town now.

I mean, if it means the target’s off my back, I’m not going to make much fuss. He sang one of the popular karaoke tunes and got the room riled up. While the others kept Yoshino and Hayashi occupied, I sat back and took another sip of my drink.

As time ticked away, another round of songs went around the group. I was irked by how well the two of them conversed; they shared music tastes and studying the sciences. Foods they liked and disliked, all the while Hayashi switched between chatting with the others and blowing smoke up Yoshino's bum. After a while, I excused myself to the restroom. Once there, I turned on the sink and splashed water across my face.

This is nightmare fuel….

In the past, whatever game they would play, I wouldn't give any attention. If that’s what they wanted, attention, then too bad. Or was it a personal vendetta…I wouldn't be aware of it. Ugh....

Walking back, I must have made a wrong turn, as the room numbers started straying farther away from room 8. Which way was room 8?

I was just about to turn back when I heard a few voices around the corner.

“Ah, what’d you want to talk to me about?”

Sato?

“Kenji and I were just about to head back, but I wanted to ask if you’re alright–”

“Alright?”

“I noticed you and Iwasaki-kun are well-acquainted, and I’d like to think that you and he getting along means nothing’s wrong.”

“Sorry, I’m not really following…”

“I don’t know…” I heard him sigh. “Maybe I’m worrying too much, just thinking back to high school. I’ll take an educated guess he hasn’t said much about that.”

No response.

“Well, the others and I found it odd why he was always alone. There were rumors, but in the journalism club we had some reliable accounts—now was it the foreign-exchange student?”

Hearing those words etch themselves in my brain, I froze in place. He has the nerve….

The foreign-exchange student part–that I know he’s pulling from his ass. Then there’s his white knight-esque attitude.

I need to shut him up—but if I walk out now, what the hell am I supposed to say? Maybe I act like I just walked around the corner and didn’t hear them at all.

But now that the idea was already given to Sato, he’s already succeeded in sewing seeds of doubt…would it be better if she heard how ridiculous he sounds with these obviously false rumors?

Yoshino lowered his voice to an imperceivable range…crap.

Sato…she’s perceptive and understands people well.

I was locked in a tug of war between two opposing options, my indecision getting the best of me.

Pathetic…really.

I just… I don't want to lose this relationship.

If this were high school, I would have just turned around and left. Probably happened multiple times under my nose. But those times it didn't really feel like I was losing something, or someone.

And then this moment, it was different.

I took a step forward, only to hear Sato's response—

“So...”