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                “Do you actually think about what you are saying, or is it an improvisational game of Mad Libs that you play in your head?”

                                Kruller, Sluggy Freelance

                Jhoon kicked the soccer ball into the air, bouncing if off his knee as he danced in the grassy patch near the cafeteria. Juggling the ball, he let it fly over his shoulder and flicked it with a kick of the heel of his sneaker, sending it coasting through the air to the next boy in the circle of them.

                From the far side of the cafeteria, Hiromi, Nazaka, Ami, and Kimiko were all wrapped around the edge of the wall, watching him. “Oh my god . . .” Hiromi sighed.

                “He’s so cute . . .” Nazaka added with a sigh.

                “But we can’t let us get distracted,” Kimiko said down to the two girls below her. She turned around back behind the corner, her fists held up with determination. “We must pierce through his veil of hotness and find a way to ascertain just who exactly the gift was for.”

                “But, he doesn’t know we know who the secret admirer is,” Nazaka said. “And if we demand to know who he left the package for, it could make him feel really uncomfortable and on the spot.” She looked at Ami and Hiromi. “I say we just wait. He’s bound to make some kind of a move.”

                “Unless he’s expecting one of us to make the move,” Ami said. “I’ve had lots of boys try this secret admirer thing. Most of them need some kind of encouragement before they try anything else.”

                “What if we all were encouraging to him?” Kimiko asked.

                “Wouldn’t be hard,” Hiromi swooned, looking back at the grassy field. Nazaka grabbed the back collar of her uniform’s shirt and pulled her back into the conversation.

                “We might confuse him,” Ami said. “That, or he might think the one told the others and we’re all mocking him now.”

                “So what do we do?” Nazaka asked.

                “There’s only one reasonable thing we can do,” Ami said, determination burning in her eyes. “We steal his backpack.”

                “I fail to see how this is reasonable,” Nazaka said as she stood with Ami near the mound of backpacks near the grassy field where the boys were playing with the soccer ball.

                “It’s simple,” Ami explained. “We wait until Kimiko and Hiromi cause a disturbance and then we grab his backpack. We then go rooting through it, looking for any evidence of who it is he has a crush on, and when he can’t find his backpack, we give the bag to whomever it is that he likes and she tells him that she found it.”

                “But it’s stealing,” Nazaka said as other girls walked by them, giggling in their direction.

                “Stealing, schmealing,” Ami said. “You want to know who he likes, don’t you?”

                “Well . . .”

                “What if it’s you?” Ami asked. “You don’t know. He might like the quiet girl with glasses.” She looked away. “I mean, anything’s possible.”

                “Anything’s possible?” Nazaka gaped. “You make it sound like it’s unlikely.”

                “Isn’t it?” Ami asked, looking up at Nazaka. She was about to yell down at the small girl, but saw no malice in her eyes. She was speaking simply. “I mean, I’m not saying it’s impossible, but I am saying that it seems that the chances are slightly against you.”

                Nazaka looked down, her face pale. She stared at the grown, her thoughts lost on the world outside. Behind her, the boys passed the soccer ball between them. “Nazaka,” Ami said, patting Nazaka on the leg. The taller girl didn’t respond. “Nazaka!” She implored. “Here they came!”

                From out of nowhere, Kimiko went flying through the air, landing on her back on the edge of the grassy field. She landed in a roll and came up to her feet. As she did, Hiromi rushed at her, throwing a high kick at Kimiko’s head, driving her back. “That was my cookie!” She shouted with false volume, everybody’s attention turning to the two girls that were fighting in the middle of the grassy field.

                “Nazaka!” Ami yelled. But the girl was still staring at nothing. With a frustrated sigh, Ami whirled around to the bags and started to dig through them. In no time, she yanked out a burgundy bag with black shoulder straps. She threw it over her shoulder and grabbed Nazaka’s hand.

                Nazaka didn’t move. She just stayed thinking as if her mind was caught in a self-feeding loop. Ami looked at Kimiko and Hiromi as they ‘fought’ their way through the grass field, their battle already leaving the soccer players. Ami tugged on Nazaka again, to no avail, then sighed. She dropped down low and picked up Nazaka across her shoulders. With only the slightest gasps from the effort, she began to trot off, carrying the still-thinking Nazaka over her shoulders.

                The bag dropped down before the four. The girls looked at each other, then down at the bag. “Okay,” Hiromi said. “Here it goes.”

                “We have to work fast,” Ami said, the first to drop down to the bag in the empty classroom. She opened the drawstring flap and started to empty out the contents carefully. She left the text books in the bag and distributed the notebooks to the other girls. “Look for any names or scribblings on the side of margins. Also, pay attention to the dividers between subjects.”

                Hiromi took a red notebook and sat down at a desk, flipping the notebook open. She was immediately taken back by the drawings inside. She slammed the book closed, then looked over at Nazaka. She was about to speak, then peaked the notebook open again. She slammed it back, her cheeks beginning to burn. “Pervert,” She whispered, pushing the notebook back away from her.

                Nazaka tore through a green notebook. She shifted through each of the pages, the math equations and formulas not registering with her as anything important. She scanned the margins, looking for any irregularities, but found nothing. With a sigh, she flipped to the back of the mostly-unused notebook and looked through it from that perspective. But the pages sat empty and untarnished.

                Kimiko looked through a blue notebook. Roman letters stared back at her in complex arrangements. She paused and looked over the letters and the words they formed. She flipped a few pages, then flipped back. “I, I can’t read this,” she said to herself as she puzzled out the letters. She started to flip through the pages, stopping at any page with any kanji or kana that she recognized. In no time, she had reached the back of the notebook without any results. She sighed with defeat, closing the notebook with a flip of her hand.

                Ami sat on the floor in front of the backpack, flipping through another blue notebook. She looked through the characters of literature, then sighed. “Nothing!” She called, throwing the notebook down. She started to dig through the backpack, looking through the tiniest nook and cranny of the design. In no time, she had gone through every space, coming up with nothing.

                She spun around, crossing her legs as the other girls turned around to her. “What’d you guys find?”

                “Nothing much,” Nazaka said with an embarrassed sigh.

                “I, uh,” Hiromi said, holding her notebook with hesitance. “I don’t want to say.”

                “What is it?” Ami said.

                “It would seem Jhoon isn’t as harmless as we thought,” She said. She opened the notebook, again disgusted by the pictures. “He’s got some sick fetishes. I mean, I know guys like dirty pictures and stuff with naked girls, but he’s got dirty pictures with people without any skin and with their organs showing and . . .”

As she spoke, Nazaka looked over her shoulder. She gave Hiromi a harsh look, then smacked her on the back of her head. “Idiot!” She scolded. “That’s not porn, it’s an Anatomy notebook.” She snatched the book away and shook her head as she began to flip through it.

                “I got his English notebook,” Kimiko said. “I don’t know enough English to be able to translate it, though, so I don’t know if he’s talking about us or not.”

                “Let me see,” Ami asked, holding out her hands for the notebook. Kimiko handed it to her and she thumbed through it. “I can’t tell either.”

                “Do you think it’s worth translating it?” Hiromi asked to the others.

                “Maybe,” Nazaka said. “But we’ve already had his backpack for awhile. I feel bad for stealing it as it is. But now . . .”

                “Who can we take it to that knows English really, really well?” Ami asked.

                “Mr. Brent is from the United States,” Nazaka said. “He might help us,”

                “He works out during the school day,” Hiromi said. “I don’t want to interrupt him. And besides, I doubt he’d help us. We did steal the backpack after all.”

                “Ryoko’s pretty good at English?” Kimiko volunteered. “Maybe we could ask her.” She paused and thought that through. “No, never mind.”

                Hiromi thought for a second, then looked up. “I’ve got!” She said. She looked at the others. “Mai knows English really well. She knows it from watching US television and stuff. I bet she could translate it.”

                “Okay then!” Ami said, jumping up. She grabbed up Jhoon’s book bag. “Next stop: Mai!” She yelled with hopeful enthusiasm.

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