Chapter LVII: The Red Scorpio
Dawn arrives gently in the small town thirty kilometers away from Kaigan. The sky is still brushed in pale lavender and soft orange when steam rises from a small bathroom window in a modest two-story home at the edge of a quiet neighborhood. Inside, Hageshi steps out of the bath, towel draped around his shoulders, hair still dripping.
He exhales as it's another day.
"Today's another day", Hageshi smiles.
He wipes steam from the mirror and looks at his reflection. Damp black hair. Sharp eyes. Slight grin forming for no reason other than habit.
"Off we go," he mutters to himself.
He moves with practiced efficiency. White undershirt covered by the cream-colored uniform shirt neatly pressed with a small pocket with the University Logo. His belt pressed and checked. Phone up to 100%, and freshener scent.
Then he kneels to put on his shiny black shoes. He polishes them quickly with a cloth, making sure they reflect just enough morning light to be respectable. It's so shiny like a policeman's shoes.
He grabs his bag from the desk and unzips it. He checks everything from notebooks, pencils, rulers, pencil case, lunch, pocket money, and apparently GameBoy cartridges.
He pauses. And yes you heard it right, GameBoy cartridges. A slow smirk appears.
"Today," he whispers, "we innovate."
He zips the bag shut.
Downstairs, the smell of toasted bread and brewed hot cocoa lingers. His mother stands near the kitchen counter. His father reads a newspaper.
"You're early," his mother says.
"The buses won't wait," Hageshi replies casually.
His father lowers the paper. "Study hard, son. And no unnecessary fights."
"No promises," Hageshi says with a grin.
His mother lightly swats his shoulder. He steps outside. The air is crisp.
The town is quiet, houses spaced comfortably apart, dogs barking faintly somewhere in the distance. He walks down the neighborhood street, shoes clicking against pavement.
At the edge of the National Highway stands a brick waiting shed. Old but sturdy. Moss creeping along its edges. A bench worn smooth by years of students and workers.
Hageshi steps inside. Others gather gradually such as Tobacco Factory workers, office employees, and other students from different schools.
Across the road, he notices a familiar figure. It's Mrs. Sato. She stands upright as always, holding a small handbag, her posture perfect even this early in the morning. She sees him. He bows slightly. She nods.
A bus approaches with a rumbling growl. It stops and the doors hiss open. They board.
The ride begins. The highway curves upward into hills. Through the window, Hageshi watches the landscape roll by as green slopes bathed in early sunlight, morning mist hugging valleys like soft blankets.
The bus crosses a scenic bridge suspended over a narrow river. The water glimmers beneath them. The bus descends again. Hills, then small neighborhoods, some convenience stores, and shrines.
Eventually, the skyline shifts. Buildings grow taller. Traffic increases. They enter Kaigan. The bus slows near the Prefecture Library. This is the closest stop to the University of the Constellations.
Hageshi steps off. The city air feels different; alive, charged, busy. He adjusts his bag and walks toward campus.
Inside the corridor near the entrance, a bright poster catches his eye.
JOIN THE STREET DANCING 1ST YEAR JUNIOR HIGHSCHOOLERS!
Bold fonts, neon colors, silhouettes mid-move. His eyebrow lifts.
"...Oh?"
He walks to the Special Power and Defense Classroom first. He slides open the door. But, he notices that it's just empty. He places his bag at his desk. Then turns around immediately. He goes to find where the Street dance audition is. He checks the room number on the poster. Once again, going down the hall.
The audition room smells faintly of floor wax and new paper. A folding table stands near the entrance. Some clipboards, and a speaker setup at the corner.
A teacher stands adjusting the cable. He looks up. He is tall, possessing an athletic build. Whistle around his neck.
"Morning," the teacher says.
"Morning, sir."
"I'm Mr. Atari," he says, extending a hand. "Physical Education teacher. I'll be coaching the 1st year street dance team."
Hageshi shakes his hand.
"Sign up sheet's here."
Hageshi signs.
"Experience?" Mr. Atari asks.
"Just... rhythm," Hageshi replies with a smirk.
Mr. Atari chuckles. "Show me."
The music plays and the beat hits. Hageshi moves. Sharp footwork. Smooth transitions. A spin. A quick shoulder pop. Controlled slides. Not flashy for show, but confident.
Mr. Atari claps once the music stops.
"Good control. Clean transitions. You're in."
Hageshi grins. "Thank you, sir."
"Practice schedule tomorrow."
"I'll be there, sir."
He returns to the Special Power and Defense Classroom. And chaos greets him immediately. Ryujin and Haruto sit across from each other at a desk. Arms locked, and foreheads tense.
Inoshiro stands between them like a referee.
"Ready?"
"Go!"
Muscles strain. Haruto grits his teeth. Ryujin exhales slowly, focused. The table creaks. Hageshi drops his phone and walks over.
"...Am I interrupting a national tournament?"
"No," Haruto grunts. "Just crushing him."
Ryujin narrows his eyes. His elbow shifts slightly— SLIP.
His arm slams down. Haruto wins.
"Yes!" Haruto raises his fist.
Inoshiro announces dramatically, "Victory by technical elbow error!"
Hageshi crosses his arms.
"Boring."
All three turn.
"Boring?" Ryujin repeats.
"We need innovation."
Haruto raises an eyebrow. "What are you proposing?"
Hageshi leans forward.
"What if... you arm-wrestle... while playing a video game?"
Silence.
Inoshiro blinks. "Explain."
"Tetris," Hageshi says. "Arm-wrestle while stacking blocks."
Haruto scratches his head. "On our phones?"
Hageshi shakes his head slowly.
"No."
He reaches into his bag. Pulls out two GameBoys. One red, one blue. They stare.
"You brought those to school?" Ryujin asks.
"Preparation," Hageshi replies.
Haruto grins slowly.
"...Tresling."
"Innovation," Hageshi confirms.
The bell rings for flag ceremony. They pause, and go out to attend. They eventually return, and immediately set up. GameBoy screens glow green. Blocks fall, and hands lock.
"Ready?" Inoshiro asks.
"Go!"
Haruto strains while stacking Tetris blocks one-handed. Ryujin balances strategy and strength.
"Rotate! ROTATE!" Inoshiro shouts unnecessarily.
Hageshi waits eagerly for his turn. They rotate players. Laughter, and shouting; celebrating small victories.
Across the room, Kitsune and Rikiyo sit close together.
"Did you see the new BTS teaser?" Kitsune whispers excitedly.
Rikiyo nods rapidly. "The visuals are insane."
They compare screenshots.
They discuss outfits. Meanwhile, Saki sits slightly apart. Her sketchbook open, and pencil moving quietly.
She looks up, eyes darting across the room, Ryujin. He is focused, laughing, and competing.
She sketches him. The curve of his jaw. The determined brow. The slight smile. Her pencil glides instinctively, yet unnoticed.
Behind them; Miran, Takeshi, Okaki, and Kuebiko huddle around a phone.
"Push mid!"
"I AM pushing mid!"
"Retreat!"
Chaos continues digitally.
The door slides open, and Shinse enters. Laptop in one hand, and an HDMI connector in the other. The room slowly settles. He connects the laptop to the television. The slides appear.
"Principles of Art," he begins.
Balance, contrast, emphasis, movement, pattern, rhythm, and unity. He explains each patiently.
"Art is not random. It is intentional arrangement."
Saki listens intently. Ryujin glances occasionally at her sketchbook.
Shinse continues.
"Art reflects emotion. Identity. Culture."
He pauses.
"Tomorrow, choir practice. National anthem and university hymn."
Groans.
"Participation mandatory."
The class sighs in unison. But something about the day feels light. Alive. Full of small beginnings. Hageshi's dance, the Tresling innovation, Saki's sketch.
And beneath it all, Threads connecting them quietly, beautifully unseen.