I was in the Project Deck planning room.

Around me still were the various whiteboards, clipboards, tables, and planning paraphernalia that comes part and parcel with elaborate planning and stalking. Also in the room, across from me, was a chair.

One of two chairs.

That is to say, I sat in one of the chairs, and no one sat in the second chair. The second chair was empty. It served not its seating function. No person sat upon it. If a person were supposed to sit upon it, said person was missing. The chair was personless. Or more specifically, maidless.

Out in the halls and through the windows and rain, I heard the muted toll of a bell in the distance.

That made it official. Classes were over and the maid was a no show.

I rubbed at my chin, pondering as ponderers do.

It was a pickle, that much was certain. The exact shade, texture, or condition of said pickle was yet undetermined, but a pickle it was nonetheless.

Obviously, the first and most pressing item of business was the whole Claire-Maid thing. Just as obviously, the maid in question was not currently present. Of course, I wasn’t about to let that stop me.

If Claire, the faux-maid, or whoever she was didn’t want to meet me in the Deck room, the solution was simple.

All I had to do was bring the conversation to her.

I turned to the window.

Outside, framed by billowing dark clouds and pouring rain, was the Clocktower, looking very imposing and Clocktowery in the distance.

I picked up my backpack and made for the door.

The maid had missed her window for open confession. It was up to me now to press the issue.

In a way, it was refreshing. All I had to was walk through the rain. After everything else that had happened recently, getting a little wet was the least of my concerns.

*

Outside the first year building was a track.

One of those loops where four laps makes a mile. Usually such tracks were made of dirt and encircled a field so schools could benefit from some economy of space.

Hielgard’s first year track did not encircle a field.

Grass was probably deemed too plebeian, dirt too plebeian plus. Instead, the track encircled an enormous fountain.

I never mentioned it up until this point for the same reason I never mentioned the giant bronze dome Cinematorium, the Manifold Tennis Courts, or the Fourteen Headless Statues scattered around campus.

Sure, they were interesting, but never exactly relevant.

The track outside the first year building was relevant now for exactly one reason.

Lene ran around the track.

It was raining. It was impossible for Lene to have missed it was raining. And yet, there she was, running.

The blue bobbed athlete looped around the giant fountain as water splished up all around her.

Above, lightning flashed, thunder boomed, and buckets poured, but Lene paid it no mind. She just kept running.

As someone who had to routinely trick himself into exercise, I could not help but admire the sight. It seemed Lene was a gal who wouldn’t let something as puny as weather get in the way of her scheduled fitness.

And yet, it was also a clear and present problem.

If I just stepped out onto the track and made for the exit, Lene would surely see me.There were no crowds of students I could camouflage in. Nowhere to hide.

In retrospect I should have expected the rain to complicate matters.

The last time Lene got me on her own, a strange and unspeakable task was set upon me.

And that is why I did the sensible, manly thing.

I hid.

I slid behind one of the support pillars holding up the front of the school.

It seemed someone else had the same idea. I felt someone bump into my back.

“Sorry,” I said automatically.

But when I turned around, I found myself facing not a someone, but a something.

A drone.

It seemed it had likewise hovered backwards into me.

The drone turned slowly. The sound of the rain had up until that moment, masked the sound of it’s whirling.

I blinked.

The drone’s red pilot light also blinked.

As Lene approached the part of the track that took her closer to the school entrance, the drone and I leaned as one into the shadow of the pillar.

Lene ran on.

I let out a sigh of relief. The drone likewise tilted like someone’s sweaty hand had momentarily risen off of a joystick to wipe at her brow.

We had escaped her notice.

The two of us stared at each other awkwardly.

I wasn’t sure what to say.

‘Why didn’t you show up to our meeting?’ seemed like a good start. Or ‘I’m coming to see you’. Maybe even a, ‘We need to have a chat about your whole identity nonsense’.

“Rain,” I found myself saying instead. “Inconvenient.”

The drone hovered in place, then slowly, it nodded.

“Probably harder for you,” I continued. “Can drones even fly through rain?”

The drone wiggled on it’s axis in a recognizable so-so manuever.

“Ah,” I said. “Then I guess we’re both sorta trapped here at the moment.”

The drone hovered in place.

“Rain and all,” I finished lamely.

An awkward silence followed.

I found myself feeling itchy for some reason. Rain tended to make me feel itchy. I resisted the urge to scratch.

I waited till Lene finished another full lap.

“Look,” I said, when Lene passed. “We need to talk.”

The drone said nothing.

“I know you probably have speakers on that thing. You had speakers in the elevator and you had speakers on that other drone earlier. You have speakers everywhere probably.”

The red pilot light flickered. It still said nothing though.

“Well you can hear me at least, I’m sure of that.”

I watched Lene as she made another full circuit of the track. It felt like a metaphor for my recent life.

Running in circles. Again and again. Getting nowhere.

“The last couple of days have been crazy,” I found myself saying. “Stuff just keeps happening. It feels like I just keep getting whisked around from event to event, barely able to react much less do anything.”

I stared out at the rain, feeling pensive.

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“I don’t think it’s going to stop. I think it’s going to keep going, getting crazier and crazier, until it all gets overwhelming. You know what I mean?”

The drone turned slightly in my direction.

“You know what I mean,” I said. “I have a feeling you feel exactly the same way.”

I thought about all of the surveillance, my first meeting with Claire, and everything else. The drones, the marriage thing, and now this maid identity thing— all of the weird question marks.

“I’m not gonna pretend to know what your beef in all this is, but you got some weird stake in things too, I can tell that much.”

I scratched at my head.

“I got my own stuff too you know. Stuff that’s crazy and bonkers enough that it makes way more sense to play things close to the chest. I’m assuming it’s something like that for you too. All of the weird stuff doesn’t make sense otherwise.”

The drone turned slightly in my direction.

I waited, but after a moment, it just turned away again.

I suppressed a sigh.

Lene passed by again. The forced pause gave me a moment to reflect.

I thought about Sarah’s words the other day.

Being friends doesn’t mean we tell each other the truth all the time. Only that we do whenever we can.

“I’m not talking about putting all the cards on the table. We don’t have to tell each other everything. Or even most of everything. Just as much as we can. Or as much as makes sense. Enough to help each other out.”

The drone paused, then made a considering noise.

“If we do that much, I think we can help each other out. Maybe even get a handle on all the craziness.”

Before the drone could even respond, there was a great giant SPLOOSH from the direction of the fountain. A figure emerged from the water like a crowning whale, leaping out of the fountain in one fluid leap.

Deck, clad in a speedo and googles.

Because of course.

Deck stood proud on top of the fountain’s edge, dripping water down onto the track right next to Lene. He removed his googles and gave her a cheery wave.

“Great day for a swim!” he called out.

Lene nodded, then continued running.

The drone and I barely spared Deck a glance. Honestly, a ridiculous Deck intervention was expected at this point. It was hardly surprising.

“Look,” I said, as if nothing had happened. “I’m willing to commit to helping you, if you’re willing to commit to helping me. Partners. For real this time.”

I held out my hand to the drone. It zigged and zagged in place in the air, regarding my hand.

“Something has to change,” I pressed. “Or, or it’ll just be more of that.”

Deck had joined Lene running around the track. Now there were two weirdos running. A set of steady sploshes joining the more delicate splishes going around the track. Thunder boomed to the beat of their steps.

The drone whirred, turning away from the track to face me.

For a moment it only regarded me, as I tried my best to look as earnest as I felt.

The drone moved forward towards my outstretched hand. Propellers ceased spinning, and it came to a rest on my palm like a shy bird.

A voice fizzled out from the drone.

“Fine,” it said. “Partners then. Start helping me now.”

I smiled. It was a start.

“What do you need?”

“Just hold still for now,” it said. “Low batteries.”

A compartment opened on the drone. A mic looking attachment extended out towards the track, and suddenly I could hear a slightly buzzy overly compressed voices coming from the drone.

“—told me before that your exercise was limited to jogging twice a week,” said Lene’s voice. “Were you lying then?”

There was a tinny version of Deck’s rich laughter.

“No no,” said Deck good-naturedly. “I do only jog twice a week.”

I could tell without visuals that he was probably sporting a grin.

“Unless it rains. Who’s crazy enough to go jogging in the rain?”

Only Deck could say such a thing without a trace of irony. While running around in a speedo. After emerging like a whale from the decorative fountain. In the rain.

“I swim when it rains,” Deck continued, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, you’re already gonna get wet anyways right?”

Lene regarded this nugget of Deck wisdom.

“I suppose that could be considered efficiency of a different kind,” said Lene, leaping gracefully over a large puddle. “Myself, I prefer to stick to my regimen, regardless of environmental factors.”

“I can see that,” Deck laughed. He barreled through the same puddle, spraying water everywhere.

“Say Lene, how many laps do you have left anyways?”

“This was to be my last.”

“Great! Listen, I stowed some towels over there in the storage shed. You should come warm up after you’re done.”

The pair slowed to a stop after finishing the final lap. Both physical Adonis’s were barely even winded. Lene stood tall, running a hand through her blue hair. Deck stood just as tall, smiling up at the rain.

Lene looked over at the storeroom. Then back to Deck. Then at the storeroom again.

“You want me to go there, into the sports storeroom with you.” Lene said. She wrung some water out of her hair.

Deck nodded cheerfully.

“Alone, just the two of us,” Lene continued. “With no other students around.”

Deck nodded again.

“For towels,” she finished.

“There’s also a heater, some spare clothes, and an extra umbrella,” said Deck. “I snuck my rain stash in there this morning.” Deck sneezed. “Also snacks.”

For a while there was only the sound of rain. Well, there was the sound of rain, then also the staticky version of the sound of rain playing double from the drone.

“Come on, you don’t want to get sick right?” Deck grinned. “It wouldn’t be…efficient.”

Rain noises.

“Lead the way,” said Lene after a moment.

The drone and I watched as the figures bobbed their way past our hiding pillar and over to the storage room. Deck pushed aside a brick that had been wedging the door open and warm light beamed out from inside.

The two figures entered the storeroom.

The doors closed.

“Lift me up higher,” came the voice from the drone. “Quickly.”

I did.

There was a tiny whirring sound as an small camera strained itself. The rectangular display flickered on, zooming in till the sports storeroom filled the entire screen.

I stared at the image of the storeroom displayed on the drone’s viewport.

I recognized that storage shed.

I recognized the big ostentatious lock on the front door. I even recognized the silly brick that lay beside the door, that had held the door open.

It was from a panel. One taken straight out of the pages of Harem, Harem, Oval Panic.

“Listen. I need you to do something on my behalf,” said the drone. “And I need you to act now. This is going to be one of those situations that’s difficult to explain if I ever explain it at all.”

Strange things were afoot.

“What do you need me to do?” I asked.

“Move us over to the storeroom first. Try to keep the rain off me. And be discreet.”

In lieu of an umbrella, I took off my shirt and did my best to hold it over the drone as we moved through the rain to the storage shed.

It was tough going. There were some odd staticky noises from the drone as my rain blocking capabilities were less than perfect.

We made it to the door at least.

I could hear the murmur of Deck and Lene from the other side of the door.

“What now?” I whispered to the drone, though I had a feeling I knew what was coming.

The drone was less for wear. I wasn’t sure if it was the storm blocking reception or rain damage, but the sound came out fuzzled.

“—close— lock—ecure—door.”

I knew what she wanted. Why she wanted it, I had no idea. But I knew.

I stared at the big lock right in front of me.

It was happening just like it had in the manga.

I looked at the drone, then back at the big lock on the storeroom door.

I reached up with my rain soaked hands and quietly set the ostentatious big lock into place.

There was a comically loud CLICK.

“What was that?” came a voice from inside.

I stared at the lock I had just clicked shut. I knew what was happening in the inside. The panel flared up in my mind’s eye.

An image of Deck pounding on the door, Lene standing beside him looking suspicious.

“Hello?” I heard him call out through the door. “Hello? Is anyone out there?”

I said nothing.

No one had responded in the manga after all.

There was more knocking.

I didn’t respond.

“Huh,” said Deck from the other side of the door. “Must’ve been the wind.”

“And exactly how, pray tell, do you imagine the wind could have clicked a lock into place?”

“Wind can do strange things,” said Deck mysteriously. “One time—“

The voices grew muffled.

Those were the same lines from the manga. It was the trope. The whole locked in a storage shed with a love interest thing. I remembered the chapter in question.

Next they were going to…

Another panel came into my mind’s eye.

More noise from the drone.

The rain had really done a number on the drone at this point. Barely any words made it through.

“—try—win—BLZZT —ndow.”

I already knew what she wanted.

I carried the drone with me as I stalked silently around to the side of the storage shed as I heard movement from the inside.

And words I recognized as I heard them.

“Let me just get on your shoulders and try the window,” said Lene.

“Why can’t I get on your shoulders?”

“Because I don’t trust you. I’ll verify the window myself.”

I crouched low, careful to keep to an angle not visible from the small window.

I moved my finger silently and hooked it in place on the storage window’s edge. My finger grew white from the silent force I was exerting.

“I can barely reach it,” came Lene’s voice from the inside.

My finger grew pained as I felt force start to push back where I held the window in place. I barely managed to hold steady. She really used an unbelievable amount of force.

“It’s stuck,” Lene pronounced.

“I can try breaking it,” suggested Deck.

“I could break it myself,” said Lene. “But it’d just get glass everywhere. The openning is too small to fit through. We’d just be stuck with a big chilly hole.”

Her voice grew quieter as she turned away from the window. There was motion again, this time away from the window.

It was surreal.

Here I was, acting as the very agent to make the events of the manga come to be. It was like one of those time travel plots where characters had to race back and make sure stuff happened exactly the right way, except I didn’t have the benefit of living through the events the first time around.

I wondered why the voice behind the drone wanted this done. Did she know about the manga somehow? Was she…like me?

“What next?” I whispered to the drone in my hands.

The drone said nothing. A small trail of smoke wisped up from the machinery. The pilot light was dull and unlit. The drone was dead. The rain had finally killed it.

There was no more direction. No more cues to follow.

Of course, I knew what happened next. I knew what the drone probably wanted.

There was one more development in the storeroom chapter. One more thing to complete the trope and chapter.

Deck and Lene were locked in the storeroom, they tried the window, and then—I looked down at the dead drone in my hands.

I had promised to help her, and I knew what needed to be done.

I moved quietly a final time. I left the dead drone behind me and followed a wire to the back of the storeroom. There I found what I was looking for. A metal box. A fusebox.

I unlatched the panel, held open the little metal door, and waited at the ready.

Then it happened—just like in the manga—a great giant comically huge flash of lightning.

That was my cue.

In one quick motion, I flipped every switch in the fusebox.

The lights from within the storeroom went dark.

From inside, there was the sound of fumbling, cursing, and what was surely general harem comedy antics.

Honestly it was a bit derivative considering something similar had happened recently in Sarah’s garden, but I supposed that was technically non-canonical.

I smiled with satisfaction.

Then, I froze.

Above me, whirling in the rain, was a drone.

It wasn’t the dead drone I’d left behind, but a new one, distinguished from its twin by a single important factor.

An umbrella hat protected it from the rain.

It looked down at me from where I stood beside the fusebox.

Thoughts raced through my mind. How in the world would I explain this to Claire—the faux-maid—whoever she was?

What would she make of the fact that I already knew what she wanted me to do? There hadn’t even been the pretense of her giving me a clue.

The drone regarded me, then whirled up and away, disappearing into the dark clouds in the direction of the Clocktower.

Come, it seemed to say.

“Oof,” said Deck from inside.