Maine scarfed down her beef bowl.

The things I do for free food…

“I prepared the katsu,” Imo said with a wide smile, holding a bowl of fried chicken strips. The smell wafted into the air, the men’s hands shooting up as it filled the room. “Anyone want?”

“Yes, please,” Ned said, holding his bowl up for Imo to scoop two strips onto. “Thank you so much!”

“No problemo!”

Maine wrinkled her nose.

How the hell did things get like this?

“I’ll have some, too,” Ezra said, looking up from his phone and returning to it instantly.

“Only one—maybe even a half for me,” Jacque said.

“Of course, of course!” Imo dished some more out to the two, Maine grimacing when she tended to Jacque.

Expected her to order instead of cook… Too over the top…

Maine rolled her eyes, chewing on some beef as she looked around the girl’s room. Metal and rock band posters. Neat display of vinyls. Nail products mixed with reading books and textbooks on her desk. Dark bed. A cluttered kitchen top with stacks of plastic containers.

Pretty much what is to be expected…

“Mai, would you like some?” Imo asked.

Maine looked up at the girl, shaking the bowl over her.

“Hmm.” Maine scooped up some more rice. “No to calling me Mai and no—”

“Oh, ok—”

“—absolutely no to fried, greasy food.” She chewed and murmured, holding her hand over her mouth as she spoke. “No tolerance for junk after both practice and a run.”

“Ah, gotcha,” Imo said, frowning. “Do you have cheat days?”

Maine scoffed. “What? Want advice? Are all days your cheat days?”

“I do my best,” Imo mumbled, slumping and giving her a disappointed stare and shrug.

Maine smirked. “One or two isn’t”—she looked to the side and hummed—”ba—eh, I think it can lead people to just going too out of control and just going, like, off course—if that’s what you’re saying you do, then work on that immediately.”

“Ah, ok. Noted.” Imo grabbed her rice bowl from her desk and plopped onto the chair nearby. “It’s nice to get some advice from an athlete, so thank you.”

Maine nodded slowly, scoffing down the last remains of her food.

Suck-up.

“Hope you liked the food,” Imo said.

Maine tilted her head and shrugged. “It was”—she sniffed—”decent—aight.”

“You seemed very hungry—”

“You sure love to pry,” Maine interrupted, pulling out her phone and responding to a heap of messages from a group chat.

“Maine’s metabolism is actually nuts,” Jacque said, finishing his meal. “Thanks by the way, it was great—”

Imo smiled. “No problem—”

“—and, yeah, she gets hungry easily. And I’m sorta the same, but she’s worse.”

Imo giggled. “I can understand that.”

Hell is that supposed to mean?

Maine kept herself glued to her phone, swiping around randomly.

Food done. Jacque, we should leave quick.

“I may also have a high metabolism. I sweat a lot,” Ned said, having his phone on landscape mode as he tapped away furiously at it. He took nibbles of his food as he did so.

Imo rolled her eyes. “Gosh, Ned, stop doing your dailies and finish your food.”

Ned snickered. “You haven’t hopped on the game for a while—”

“Alright, shut up—”

“—after I wrecked yo butt—”

Imo tutted. “I have other better things to do—”

“—and you never came ba—and what may those be—”

“—while your eyes rot from all the freakin’ blue light—”

“—no, answer me, what may those be—”

Their ramble fell on Maine’s deaf ears. She sighed.

Geek speak…

Maine glanced towards Jacque, who stared back at her with the same confused expression. She pouted at him, to which he responded with an understanding smile and nod.

Good. We can finally go.

The ramble had stopped and they were back to random silence. Maine squinted, slowly lifting herself from the chair.

“Alright, done,” Ned said, finishing his food. “This was so good, thank you, Imo.”

“Glad you liked it!” Imo went to take his bowl.

“I can wash it if you wa—”

“No, no, you’re the guest.” Imo took his bowl away to the piling sink with a soft smile. “Sit, sit.”

Maine wrinkled her nose for the umpteenth time that day.

What… What kind of relationship is thi—

“Alright, now stand!” Imo clapped as Ned shot to his feet. “Let’s get this duel started!”

Ned smirked. “Of course—”

“Maine! Jacque!” Imo turned to them with a fiery glint in her dark eyes. “You ready?”

To leave? Yes.

Maine cleared her throat. “Well, actuall—”

“Yeah, sure!” Jacque said.

They locked eyes.

Maine pursed her lips.

Huh?

“The competition is simple!” Imo shouted, her voice booming through the entire gym with the five of them in it. “Let’s limit the fukiya round to one dart shot, especially since Ned is by himself!”

“Wait, why’s that actually?” Jacque asked.

“I do my clan meetups on Wednesdays.” Ned flared his nostrils as he spun around his staff. “I hear many members of Imo’s called out today, so I came myself to strike at them when they’re at their weak—”

“As you can clearly see, he needs a bit of humbling—lemme get back to the explanation!” Imo pointed to the several targets that lined the walls feet away. “We’ll send in our best fukiya shooter to go against Ned in a round of fukiya! Then we’ll send in someone to have a bōjutsu spar with Ned!”

Jacque nodded.

Maine frowned. “That’s… so dumb—”

“You think ninjas only used one weapon?” Ned adjusted his specs. “Yes, clans have their specialty, but don’t count out other weapons because the best way to know the weaknesses of another weapon is to try it out yourself.”

“Variety is very—I mean very important in the CNM,” Imo said. “It’s so important that it would defeat the whole point of the movement without it. This is why a certain cheerleader is gonna be be the one doing the fukiya seg—”

“Huh?” Maine held her hips and leaned forward as if to get her point across better. “Why would I of all people get involved?”

“C’mon, you’re the newbie I wanted! You gotta train!” Imo grinned, which only fueled Maine’s spite.

She sighed. “I—hmm, wait—let me talk to Jacque real quick—”

“Of course—”

“I need to talk to him about something about school tomorrow, and all that—”

“Sure! Go ahead!” Imo gave a waving gesture to the two.

Maine and Jacque huddled together.

Jacque smiled. “What do you need—”

“You seem very interested in this geek stuff, Jacque,” Maine whispered sharply, folding her arms.

“I mean—”

“We could just go home, watch a movie—do something more fun.” She gave him a soft pout.

Jacque’s face reddened slightly. “I mean, yeah—after, for sure…”

Maine frowned. “The food was… nice. But you actually want to associate more with this?”

“Well, uh—you gotta admit, Maine…”

“Yeah?” Maine cocked a brow.

Jacque gave a tight-lipped smile. “Hearing ninjas… made my mind go ‘hell yeah’.”

They stared at each other in silence.

“You…” Jacque scratched the back of his head. “You feel me…?”

Maine stared for a few seconds before she sighed and stared into space instead.

Cute.

She looked at Imo in defeat, seeing her argue with Ned about something. She then looked back at Jacque.

Screw this… That bratty goth needs to know boundaries…

“Right, I’ll”—she sighed—”stay—”

“Oh, nice—”

“—for a bit—we go home together anyway, so I’ll stay with you.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fun—”

Maine looked at the ground. “Hmm.”

Jacque pecked her cheek and Maine returned.

“Are you guys done?” Imo asked, popping behind them.

Maine frowned as she was brought back to reality. “Look—why is it even me you’re sending in?”

“I told ya—you gotta be trained.” Imo held up a fukiya. “This is a longer fukiya than the one you used yesterday, so you need to get used to it—”

“I’m a cheerleader—do I need to spell that out for you?” Maine pinched the bridge of her nose. “I cheer—you are the blowpipe exper—”

“I think you’re doing yourself a big disservice,” Imo interjected. “From all this time I’ve talked to ya, I’ve found that you seem pretty attentive.”

“Huh?”

“I assume that’s one of the many skills you get from—”

“What—”

“—cheerleading, no?”

“What? Why are you acting like you know me?”

“Well, you were quick to know me.”

Yep, this emo’s on drugs—hell is she on about?

“Remember when I first approached you yesterday?” Imo started. “You said you were making me a standout and that I shouldn’t do so much with myself.”

Maine blinked. “What?”

“You seemed to catch on that I was hiding something or being too obvious—like, you sensed that I was possibly a ninja—”

“Girl—i can guarantee you that—”

“—and were exposing me—that’s being attentive—”

“—I didn’t catch onto jack-shi—why are you like this?”

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“What? C’mon, you’re once again not putting enough belief in yourself,” Imo said. “There’s nothing about me that would’ve made me look suspicious.”

“Uh-huh…” Maine gave a dry smile. “Sure…”

“Or ninja-like for that matter—you have a good grasp on social cues and surroundings—a good skill for fukiya.” Imo used her fingers to number her points. “Athletic, knowledgeable about athleticism—what else—flexibility for ninja tricks—cheerleading gives you so much—now pick up the fukiya!”

“You suck up too much,” Maine hissed.

“You did it well the first time, Maine,” Jacque said with a smile.

Maine pursed her lips and then smiled awkwardly. “But if you’re so desperate for my help and attention, I’ll give it to you for a bit.”

Imo smiled. “Great! But before we move on with that, you need a demonstration of how to perform a fukiya shot!”

Maine furrowed her brows. “Wha—you just blow into the thing and shoot—”

“Nuh uh uh.” Imo wagged her finger. “Remember, I told you that there is a sorta—a little ritual before you actually shoot.”

“What—”

“Ned can wait while we give you a demonstration.” Imo turned to Ned, who stood off to the side with a grin as he held his bo staff and tapped at his phone. “Right?”

“Of course—expect a long oration, Maine, because—”

What does that word mean—

“—Imo will ramble—”

“I’ll keep it short,” Imo snapped.

“Yeah, yeah.” Ned grinned. “Even if Maine’s a beginner, I’m still gonna lose since I suck at fukiya.”

Maine scowled.

Is that nerd taunting me right now? Trying to trick me?

“Right, let’s get started,” Imo said, clapping. “Ezra.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ezra said, standing next to them with a long blowgun.

“Would you be able to demonstrate for Maine?”

“Sure thing,” Ezra said, smiling at Maine. “Don’t know how familiar you are with breathing tech, but it’s nothing complicated, no worries at all.”

I didn’t even know you were here.

“I’ll put it in easy terms.” Ezra threw off his hoodie, revealing a ninja outfit under. He stood at a cone and took a small bow towards the target several feet away. “Bow. Always bow at the target before you shoot rounds of darts. Respect the target you’re about to shoot a dart through.”

“That’s dark,” Jacque murmured.

“Agreed,” Maine said.

“Shh, this requires respect from the audience as well.” Ezra held a finger to his lips, which he formed in a seal. “And this tight seal I’m making with my lips is important.”

“This is why you can’t cheer during a person’s go,” Imo said, giggling at Maine.

“Who the hell said I was gonna do that?” Maine facepalmed.

“Legs shoulder-width apart.” Ezra stood in his said position. “I like to think of it similar to if—you guys know tennis serves, yeah? Sorta like that.”

He picked out a dart from his pocket, sliding it into the hole in the tube.

“Insert a dart in like a suppos…” He thought for a second. “Eh, nah, I can’t say that—insert it in—“

What kind of crud was this man about to say?

“—and make sure it really is in or else it will fall out… obviously.” Ezra sniffed, coughing to mask a laugh. “Anyways, here’s the most important part, so listen up.”

Ezra held his right hand up and traced the skin between his thumb and index finger.

“I think this is called a web space.” He held the fukiya using both his hands. “You need to hold it with your fingers, like, straight and held within the space on both hands—just for this small breathing exercise before the shot.”

Ezra held himself firm and straight.

“INOM—sorry, I like using acronyms—INOM. In Nose, Out Mouth.” Ezra breathed in slowly through his nose, then out through his mouth. “This is how you get yourself in a calm state, so you do it like this.”

He raised the fukiya and breathed in slowly through his nose. He then breathed out at the same pace, lowering the pipe steadily.

“Right,” Ezra said under his breath as he held the fukiya in the form Maine noticed was the one she used the other day.

Gosh.

Ezra tightened his lips around the fukiya, forming a firm seal around where the mouthpiece would usually be.

He inhaled.

A sharp exhale.

A dart zipped through the air, knocking square into a target with a bang. Maine and Jacque widened their eyes.

Ezra lowered his fukiya in the same fashion before he had taken the shot. He sighed slowly and smiled at them with a thumbs up.

“That’s how it’s done.”

Jacque and Imo clapped.

“Well done, very well done,” Imo said, turning to Maine. “Simple, is it not?”

“Of course,” Maine said a bit too quickly.

“If it were a real fight, throw all the breathing strategy away and just blaze ‘em,” Ezra said, running toward the target. “Or do it all at the speed of light!”

“And for an extra bullseye luck boost, you can put on the Fukiya clan merch!” Imo pointed at the logo on her attire’s sleeve, being a dart piercing through a glass of green liquid with a skull on it. “It’s a dart through a vial of poison!”

Maine hummed. “Tacky.”

“It looks dope,” Imo said, tapping it as if Maine hadn’t understood it.

Maine looked at her dyed hair, then looked at the logo. She snorted.

“Rude much?” Imo asked.

“Way too on the nose with the branding,” Maine said, rolling her eyes. “Seriously—“

“I got a 5,” Ezra said, walking to them. “So that’s the red second-most inner circle—close to a 7.”

“Good job, Ezra!” Imo high-fived him. “Tell Maine that the merch works—“

“It works, trust trust,” Ezra said with a nod.

“So convincing,” Maine said.

“How much?” Jacque asked with a serious look on his face.

Maine gave him a stern stare.

“Come on, babe—ninja outfits are cool!”

“Of course Imo’s promoting pay-to-win strategies,” Ned said, looking up from his phone and walking to them. “After that horrid loss—“

“Why do you always gotta—“

“—in the clan war”—Ned shook his phone—“you’ve been led astray by virtual capitalism—“

Imo gasped. “Lies! Lies! Haven’t spent a single dime on the game—“

“Hold yourself to that or I’ll look down on you more—“

“Shut it—“

“—than I already do now.”

Maine sighed a heavy one.

God, get me out of here.

“Can I just, y’know, shoot?” Maine asked, staring off to the side.

“Do you want to have a test shot before your real one?” Imo asked.

“I’ll skip to the real one. Don’t got all the time in the world for thi—“

“Mai, this is slightly different from what you shot yesterday.”

“I’m sure it’s the sa—“

“If you lose to…” Imo looked at Ned and grimaced, the man returning the gesture. “You’ll kick yourself.”

“Where did your sucking up go?” Maine asked, frowning and squinting.

Imo raised her hands in defense. “Hey, you did just call the Fukiya clan logo tacky to the clan head—the fukiya gods won’t be pleased—“

“Fukiya… gods?”

“—not one bit—yes, gods.”

Maine let it sink in before breaking out into laughter. “Just gimme the pole thingie!”

“Sanitized mine,” Imo said, handing her fukiya and a dart to her.

Maine swiped it and hurried to the cone and held the pipe on the webs of her hands. She performed a half-baked bow and slid a dart into the pipe.

“Good luck, Maine!” Jacque said.

“Thanks.” Maine managed a small smile as she locked onto the target.

Fukiya gods… I really am getting involved in some LARPing crud.

“So stupid,” she muttered, raising the pipe and breathing in slowly.

Imo jogged toward her and put her hands on her shoulders.

“Huh? What are you—”

“Right foot’s not facing forward,” Imo said, lightly kicking at Maine’s foot, urging it to shift forward.

“Ok, fine—just get—”

“Woah, woah, woah—you felt less tense a second ago.”

Maine scowled. “I’ll calm down—I can do it myself—”

“Straighten.” Imo tapped Maine’s elbows, in which the cheerleader responded by keeping her hand straight. “There we go—I’ll give you your space now, sorry.”

Imo backed off and Maine sighed, looking towards the target.

That target is damn far…

She breathed in, raising the pipe. She breathed out and lowered it.

The pipe feels more weighty… Where’s the right balance?

She imitated the grip she had done the day before, but struggled with finding where her flat left palm would hold up the fukiya. She squinted.

Am I overthinking it? Crud, maybe I should’ve—

She pursed her lips and exhaled sharply, the dart smacking into the wall as the pipe quivered.

“Damn it…” Maine cursed, balling her hands.

“It was a fair shot!” Imo called out.

“Yeah, all good!” Jacque said.

Maine gritted her teeth and blew out a heavy breath. “Whatever.”

Ezra hummed. “You should go confirm that—”

“Oh, shut up!” Maine barked.

“Aight.”

Maine whipped her head around to Imo. “That was a test!”

“But I thought—”

“Is that fine?” Maine stared at her intensely, increasing when she caught a smile on the girl’s face.

“Go ahead. We did say you could.” Imo handed her another dart.

Maine swiped it and pushed it into the fukiya, walking back to the cone.

“I knew she’d take it,” Ned said, tipping his glasses up. “Psychological warfare is something even ninja today must use, even if the CNM is much tamer.”

“What?” Jacque asked, raising a brow.

“Well, calling it warfare would be a mockery to what they actually did back then.” Ned laughed. “Have only known Maine for two hours and she’s already predictable—”

Imo clapped. “People, she’s about to shoot. Shoosh.”

I may just turn and shoot at cocky four-eyes…

Maine held the pipe to her lips, her blood practically boiling.

“Mai—sorry for disturbin’—you do the breathing exercise after every shot,” Imo said quickly.

Maine’s protest rose up her throat, but she swallowed it back down.

Whatever, I might need this…

She stood there, her eyes straining as she attempted to make sense of the target.

Breathing… Breathing… Breathing—uh…

Her heart pounded.

And Jacque’s here, too…

She cursed under her breath.

I shouldn’t be getting worked up over this stupid game… But I will never be under that nerd’s level—won’t let that happen—crud, crud, crud…

She rose the pipe a bit before lowering it with an exhale.

Breathing… Breathing—wait, wait…

She tightened her lips.

I may have been pursing my lips—was I? Maybe…

She loosened them.

If I was pursing the first time… then I was doing recovery breathing—right? Yeah… yeah, that should be right…

She breathed in.

With stress too… Made me breathless—it’s terrible for something like this… I can loosen it maybe…

Then out.

4-4-4-4… 4-7-8… belly breathing… power breathing…

In.

My hands are being used, so belly breathing is a no…

Out.

Power breathing is necessary for intense motions… 4-4-4-4 is shorter than 4-7-8…

“I’m here,” she whispered to herself countless times.

But 4-7-8 helped me get over back handsprings when they were new to—yes, I will try—ok, ok… This is new to me so… It counts—right… Right.

She raised the pipe, inhaling through her nose. Her eyes shut.

1… 2…

She visualized the target in the void of her mind.

3… 4.

She held her breath, cutting air off.

1… 2…

All sounds filtered out.

3… 4…

She singled out her heartbeat.

5… 6…

Pressure surged through her.

7.

It released as she lowered the pipe, her pent-up breath blowing out in a long, soft gust.

1… 2… 3… 4…

She loosened her lips, ensuring they weren’t too tightly pursed.

5… 6… 7…

Her body and stress deflated.

8.

Her eyes opened, glued onto the target. She raised the pipe to her lips.

I’m here…

She breathed in through her nose, feeling her lungs and diaphragm expand.

1…

She reached her limit.

2!

Her lips sealed with a snap as a sharp exhale and dart burst the air.

The dart drilled into the target, the pang echoing through her being and releasing every ounce of tension.

So she breathed. Her pipe lowered. She breathed again.

The four behind her clapped.

“Yo, great one, babe!” Jacque whooped.

Maine looked back, wearing a shaky frown.

“Amazing!” Imo said.

“Pretty good, pretty damn good!” Ned said.

Maine sighed and turned away from them.

“Yeah, sure—lemme just see what I got,” she said, folding her arms as she hurried to the target.

As she approached the target, her frown deepened and straightened. The dart stuck into the white ring.

It’s further from the black than it was yesterday…

She turned around and walked back. “Psh, just another 3! Whatever.”

“That’s still good!” Imo said. “Still an amazing shot—it’s all about practice!”

“It was cool as hell!” Jacque said, hugging her as soon as she walked past the cone.

Yeah, like I’m ever practicing this again…

She rolled her eyes, but embraced the hug.

“A 3’s usually what I get too,” Ned said. “Fukiya can be hard, but I manage decently.”

Ugh.

“You do, to be honest,” Imo said. “But you still won’t win.”

“50-50 tossup, we’ll see,” Ned said.

Alright, let’s see what trash I’m up against.

She turned her face from Jacque’s chest, her expression contorting the moment she saw Ned launch his bō staff across the room like a javelin.

What the—

The staff’s butt smashed into a target, knocking the stand it was attached to to the ground. A bang resonated through the room as wood clattered on wood.

Silence came after. Ned adjusted his glasses as he leaned forward.

“Ah, in fairness, I’m pretty sure I hit a 1.” Ned turned to Maine with a smile. “Good game, you win the fukiya rou—”

“Why the fu—why did you do that?” Maine shouted.

“What? I played the game, no?” Ned asked with a head tilt. “You good?”

“Huh…?”

“And yes, I used to do javelin.” Ned wore a smug smile.

“Wha—Bu—”

“Variety is the spice of life,” Ezra said, nodding.

“Well, as expected, you lost,” Imo said triumphantly. “You’re regressing—couldn’t even get a 3 like last time—”

“My loot boxes were terrible today,” Ned said. “Ruined my damn mood—”

“Keep makin’ excuses.”

“Wha… But…” Maine drew the ninjas’ attention towards her, the three laughing at her bewilderment.

She looked up at her only ally to find some common ground.

“Yo—dude…” Jacque looked at Maine with a dropped jaw, then back at Ned with a chuckle. “Chill—my girl is literally right here—what the hell?”

They snickered and high-fived.

And all Maine could do was facepalm, inhale, and then exhale.