Yes. While I Was Spinning the Wheel to Make Gyoza Wrappers, for Some Strange Reason, I Ended Up with This – Part 02
The next day, P.E. was an elective. Our school actually listened to students and often came up with these nice little systems.
Swimming or basketball in the gym. Naturally, I picked the latter. Orito pulled an incredibly sour face, but for some reason, instead of choosing the pool, he picked the same as me.
Most of the class went for the pool, which meant we had the whole spacious gym practically to ourselves.
Heh… At last, time to show them a zombie’s athletic ability.
“Aikawa!” Tomonori called out.
“How’re we splitting teams?” I asked. “Not enough people to go boys versus girls.”
“Whatever works,” Orito said, watching the girls stretch.
We all gathered in the middle and settled it fairly with rock-paper-scissors.
“Yes! I’m with Aikawa!” Tomonori pumped her fist like a warlord who’d just slain the enemy general.
Other than her, the only face I knew was a quiet girl with pigtails draped over her shoulders. She had the beauty of a tragic heroine in a fairy tale.
Her name was Hiramatsu Taeko. She was in the same class as me, top grades in our year, and had once won a Hyakunin Isshu[1] tournament. Orito had briefed me about her before.
“Gahahaha!” Orito’s crude laugh echoed through the gym. “We’ve got this in the bag!”
I glanced at his team, and damn, there was someone insanely tall over there. Totally unfair. A blue‑eyed guy with a handsome face like a British prince.
“Wow. Didn’t know we had anyone like that here,” I said.
“Aikawa, you’ve… never met Anderson before?” Hiramatsu whispered softly.
Tomonori had already wandered off to grab the ball.
“Anderson?”
“His real name’s… Shimomura. But he looks… like a foreigner, so.”
Ah, so they took the shimo from Shimomura, which could mean under, turned it into Ander, then read mura, which meant village, as son.
Wait, so he wasn’t a foreigner? With that face? No way.
“I bet he’s popular with the girls.”
For some reason, I wanted to talk to him, which surprised me. I’d always heard plenty from Orito about who was who and what went on at school, but it never mattered to me. I’d never cared to take an interest.
I’d really changed ever since meeting Eu. It was all thanks to her.
“Yeah, he’s really… popular. Sorry.”
“Huh? Sorry for what?”
“I’m… terrible at sports… so I’ll probably… drag you down… and we’ll lose… because of me.”
“P.E.’s about moving your body, not winning. Let’s just have fun.”
“Okay. Thanks… Aikawa.”
“All right! Aikawa, let’s see what you’ve got! Not that you stand a chance. We’ve got Anderson and Mihara, two basketball club members!”
And just like that, Orito crushed the nice little moment Hiramatsu and I were having.
Tomonori returned with the ball and headed for the center circle.
Orito stepped up for the jump ball. Either he thought he was the leader or the basketball club guys just didn’t want to bother. Which meant I had to go up against him.
“All right. Let’s go!”
Tomonori tossed the ball up. Orito and I leapt, and the bastard stomped on my foot!
The ball bounced into enemy territory and one of their girls grabbed it.
“Here we go!” She had a confident smile. Her brown hair was tied up, she was fairly tall, and there was a slightly mature air about her. Just from the way she dribbled, I knew she was in the basketball club.
“Mihara’s dangerous! On her, now!” one of our guys shouted, running in to cover her.
“You’ll want two people on Kanami!” Tomonori yelled.
Too late. A quick right-to-left crossover and she blew past the first defender. The second tried to cover, but she slipped by without much trouble.
So her name was Kanami Mihara. I guess Tomonori’s class had some cute girls, too. Wait, crap, I was starting to sound like Orito.
Tomonori closed in, reaching for the ball. She flapped her hands like she meant to snatch it by force, but Mihara handled her easily, smiling all the while. Then she lobbed the ball straight to Anderson.
Ah, right. No point wasting defense on Orito.
Sure enough, he dunked it without effort. Applause broke out.
“Aikawa, run!”
Tomonori’s shout sent me sprinting toward the enemy hoop. She was probably thinking about a full-court pass, something everyone tried at least once.
Maybe because they weren’t taking it too seriously, her pass actually made it through. All I had to do now was toss in a quick layup.
I jumped, the ball leaving my fingertips.
“Not so fast, Aikawa!”
Orito’s defense… wasn’t basketball.
“Guh!”
He body-slammed me shoulder-first, sending me crashing into the wall. No concern for fouls whatsoever.
Fine. If that’s how you wanna play.
From that point on, it stopped being basketball and turned into basketbrawl. No-rules horseplay.
Tomonori got tickled by Mihara mid-shot, I hit Orito with the ball, the other guys started treating it like dodgeball.
Even Anderson, who I’d thought was sane, passed the ball to Orito only to swat it away like a volleyball spike when Orito went for a layup. Then Orito yanked down Anderson’s pants.
Hiramatsu and the other girls who weren’t good at sports just stood at the far end laughing the whole time.
The only one actually playing basketball was Mihara. Dribbling happily, threading the ball under her leg, she came toward me.
If nothing else, I had to stop her lightning drive. Watching the hand on the ball, I dropped into a low stance to read her path.
“Nice defense, Aikawa. You play?”
“Only in P.E. a little.”
“If you stop me here, I’ll recognize you as Yuki’s husband.”
“What? I don’t really want your recognition.”
“Oh? Hey, Yuki’s getting harassed by Orito.”
I glanced away for an instant, and the ball was already in the air. Sneaky witch.
That’s when I made my mistake. Maybe the stupid foul war had my adrenaline pumping. Maybe I just didn’t want to lose. Maybe something in her words triggered me. I didn’t know.
I chased after the ball and jumped about a meter into the air, unintentionally utilizing just a bit of my zombie power.
I caught the ball and landed. Maybe no one would notice anything odd about a one-meter jump? My heart pounded, until I saw everyone frozen like statues.
Uh-oh.
“A-Aikawa.” Mihara pointed at me with a trembling hand, her face twisted in fear. She must’ve realized I’d done something far beyond human ability.
I felt someone grab me.
Huh? What’s with this unusually long arm holding me in a lock?
Mihara had been pointing not at me, but at Anderson, whose eyes blazed like spotlights.
“Aikawa! You must join the basketball club!” Anderson hugged me tight, breathing heavily.
“Nah, that jump is better suited for volleyball!” said one of the boys on my team, brimming with excitement.
“No, no, no! You should join the Panty Shot Research Club instead!”
Whoa. I didn’t know our school had a very fascinating club.
“Hey, aren’t you all forgetting something?” Leaning against the wall, Orito flicked his sweat, fussed with his spiky hair, and said, “Aikawa goes down fast.”
Reminded of my predisposition, every recruiter slumped in sudden disappointment.
“You just can’t have it all, I guess,” Anderson said, crying.
Yeah, yeah. Now let go of me.
“You know that better than anyone, Anderson.”
Huh? What did that mean?
Orito pushed up his hair as he walked toward me. “Ah, right. You wouldn’t know since you’re out cold. Anderson’s always the one hauling you to the nurse’s office. He’s the biggest guy around, after all.”
“Oh.” I nodded, then bowed. “Thanks for looking out for me.”
“We help each other out when we can.”
Anderson flashed me a broad, toothy grin. What a damn great guy.
And that’s how I actually enjoyed a P.E. class for the first time in ages.
Tomonori and I carried the balls back together to the equipment room.
“Oh, right, Aikawa. Did you know we’ve got cooking class tomorrow?”
“Nope, didn’t.”
“I knew it. Bet you were sleeping again. Tomorrow we’ve got a guest chef coming in for cooking class. I got us in the same group, so we’re set!”
“It’s a combined class?”
“Yup. Fourth period P.E.’s swapped for home ec tomorrow. So, today’s our last P.E. for a while.”
I see. Tomonori was in the next class over, and P.E. was usually combined. So while I was asleep, they’d swapped it out for home ec.
“And hey, I’m in the potatoes in miso soup camp. So, you’re on potato duty. Don’t forget ‘em.”
“Yeah, yeah. Who else is in our group?”
“Let’s see.” Tomonori ticked off names on her fingers like a kid doing their ABCs. “Orito, you, me, Kanami, Hiramatsu… and Anderson.”
That bunch, huh.
I didn’t know why, but I’d never felt this way about school before. I actually found myself looking forward to cooking class.
1. A competition based on the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu, a 13th-century anthology of 100 poems by 100 different poets compiled by Fujiwara no Teika.
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