Каран Андерс - The Book of Firsts

Slipping off our shoes, we walked out onto the south lawn. The moon, not quite full, was more than bright enough to show our features, and I glanced back at the area’s entrance, wondering if I could make out the shape of someone watching.

"Rin and Bran, ready to fend off passers-by," Kyou said, noticing my gaze. "Speaking of which…" He slid a phone out of an inner pocket and made some quick adjustments. "They did something we could dance to recently."

A long, low cello note sounded. Kyou arranged his phone in his breast pocket, and took my hand as a sweet violin joined us beneath the cold moon. A light breeze played with my skirt as we took our first steps, and the stars were bright. Unfettered from my heels, I floated across the lawn.

"This music is so beautiful," I murmured. "Is it another piece for one of your games? Is there a dance scene?"

"For One Step More , and not exactly. It’s meant to bring to mind a waltz, and is one of the most important pieces in the game. Rin’s shed blood over it."

I half-closed my eyes, trying to guess what the scene would be like from sound cues alone. It made me think of flying. And, like all good things, it was over too soon. I dropped my hand from Kyou’s shoulder, and he automatically moved to shut off his phone.

"I couldn’t have planned a better setting for this dance," he said, softly. "If only freezing time were practical."

He took my hand in a grip that was a little too tight, and led me unhurriedly back to our shoes, and then to two other tall figures, waiting by the path.

"Serious talk time?" I asked, gauging what I could make out of their expressions in the shadow of the trees.

"Well, catching up on a thousand postponed conversations," Kyou said. "We decided—it seems a very long time ago now—that the one thing we had to do was get you through the exams before unloading any spare feelings on you."

"Shift location," Bran said, and led the way along the hedge-lined paths to a large gazebo surrounded by flower beds.

"Is this where the Rose Court has lunch?" I asked, looking around. "I can almost see why people want to join."

"No lunch spot is worth the hoops they put people through," Kyou said, sitting down.

I picked a seat just by the stair, Bran and Rin sat opposite me, and then there was a little silence. We’d wound about enough to be relatively close to Sports One again, and a lively orchestra piece made its way through the windows, very mismatched with the moment.

"I deleted all the scores on the app," Bran said, finally. "I don’t want to know."

"It wouldn’t have mattered," I said, after a brief hesitation. "I decided to fake them to make you all come out even."

Rin laughed, then leaned his head back and sighed. "Mika, you undo me. You—this whole situation—has spiralled so far out of expectation that we’re at a loss. None of us want to end this. But we don’t want to go on the way things have been, either."

"Sneaking about was all very fun until it really wasn’t," Kyou said.

"What are you proposing?" I asked, not allowing myself to get my hopes up. If there was an easy solution, I would have already thought of it. University wouldn’t have convenient private gardens, even if we wanted to go on clandestinely. And if we were seen heading to hotels, or each other’s houses, the intense interest in everything about the Three Kings would inevitably risk the kind of exposure that I, sanguine about everything except my career, could not afford.

"We asked you to be impartial. Now, well…" Kyou’s voice actually wavered, and I saw his hands curl into fists on his knees. "Now, we want to know if you have a preference."

I found myself flushing with anger, but then I only felt tired. Bran had dropped his head to glower at his feet, while Rin, without moving, had somehow lost all his poise. They, like me, had tried to think of a way out of this trap, and failed.

"I’m not sure I’ve met anyone as close as you three are to each other," I said slowly. "Lifelong friendship, and you came ready-made with a demonstration of what happens when someone tries to pull you apart. Even if I could pick one of you—an exercise that feels somewhat on par with deciding which of my limbs I could give up—I never will. I won’t do that to you."

There was a lot more I could say, but really nothing to add, so I simply stood up and walked away from them. No one stopped me.

I hadn’t expected them to make it so hard, to tempt me with at least not losing one of them, and force me to say no.

I spent the next two days mechanically going through the familiar process of preparing to leave. Because I wasn’t absolutely sure what city I’d end up in, I couldn’t start house-hunting yet, and hadn’t given notice on my apartment. Even so, I prepared everything for departure, emptying the fridge, cleaning enough to expect the bond to be returned, and packing all my belongings.

Ms Lezecki, the guidance counsellor, contacted me the day before I was due to fly out to notify me I was Dux of the School. Given I was heading out of the country, they wanted me to come in wearing my uniform for a medal presentation, some photographs, and to record a short message to be played at the graduation ceremony. Luckily my flight wasn’t until the afternoon, so I arranged a time the next morning. Then I called Millie and asked for makeup tips, since the last few days showed a little too clearly on my face.

Even with expert help, Ms Lezecki gave me a lecture after the photos were done.

"I know stern warnings about health don’t seem very relevant at your age," she said. "But these stresses build up on your body. Aim for a little moderation."

"No more two-day tabletop dancing sessions?" I asked, twirling my medal on its ribbon, and then laughed at her expression. "Just insomnia, Ms Lezecki. I’m very boring."

"I suspect all-night gaming sessions," said a familiar, beautiful voice.

I turned, discovered the three people I’d spent my nights thinking about, and decided to be glad for another chance to see them.

"This seems like an excellent opportunity for a Student Council Executive commiseration photo," Rin said. "It will remind us not to make bets about which of us would be Dux."

"A near-run competition," the counsellor said, smiling as they bracketed me. "It’s not too close to your flight time, Mikaela?"

"No, still plenty of bonus airport appreciation time to go."

We took a couple of shots, and then I packed my medal away, and thanked the handful of teachers who were in the office.

"Let’s have a cup of tea, and then we’ll give you a lift," Rin said. "I thoroughly enjoy the idea that you’re planning to fly to Peru dressed like this. Will you wear it on the walk up to Macchu Piccu?"

"I could, I suppose. These shoes aren’t bad for walking."

"Can this possibly constitute all your worldly possessions?" Kyou asked, appropriating the single battered suitcase I’d brought with me, while Bran took my backpack.

"There’s another suitcase, and two whole boxes, which I’ll collect when I come back to Helios," I said. "It felt strangely uncomfortable, packing those boxes, because I’m so used to having to keep all my things to a strict two-suitcase limit."

"Do you just throw away everything each school?" Bran asked, a little incredulously.

"Anything we want to keep permanently we send to my Nan’s. The boxes of the author’s copies of Dad’s books are threatening to completely take over her garage."

"Bran and his six monitors would never cope with two suitcases," Rin said.

"This from Mr Twenty-to-Infinity Guitars," Bran retorted.

They were all in spectacularly good moods, or chatting to hide nervousness, or both. I couldn’t decide, and followed them without comment out and along the path to the garden that had been so central to my year. It was the first time I’d walked in honestly, and passing the windows allowed me to see just how close we’d been to an entire row of teachers, every time I’d snuck through the fence.