Ryu elbowed his way through the corridor. The school was crammed with people, and tomorrow should be worse; Sunday and open house and all.

He guessed none of the students would need to pay very much for the anticipated second year field trip late February. The festival would generate a huge surplus.

There was an errand for him. One Yukio had assigned to him. Ryu navigated his way between the shoe lockers until he finally made it to the student council bulletin-board.

I'm sorry Yukio. Not a joke. It didn't matter all that much. Kuri would win the beauty contest hands down, so Kyoko didn't have to worry all that much. He smiled and laughed. Wonder what she'll look like on the catwalk though.

The boys' contest was a more open affair though. Himself or Nao-sempai. A couple of weeks earlier Ryu wouldn't have given Nao-sempai much of a chance, but with Urufu all over the place enough first year votes were bound to move in his direction to make the competition interesting.

Now it all hinged on the third years, which was only fair. Sure, they had two contenders of their own, and before the cultural exchange club came into existence and changed all the rules, one of them ought to have won.

Now they didn't stand a chance. It didn't help them that the club had saved the day when the entire festival fell into disarray, and all because Urufu suddenly displayed almost godlike powers.

Damn, I'll never catch up to that guy! Not bloody fair! Ryu swallowed his resentment. Calm down. He's over fifty. He's done this shit for a living the last twenty years now.

Which was true. And that truth wasn't enough. Ryu knew only one person on the planet he'd have trusted to run the show by wire like this, and that was his father. Grimly he admitted his father would likely have come running to Urufu for advice. There was a difference between superb and godlike after all.

He can't play ball, he's just hiding what a crappy athlete he really is behind that absurd stamina of his. He's stupidly insensitive with the girls, his Japanese sucks and he doesn't know how things are run here. And yet. And yet.

Normally Urufu made people around him shine with glory, which usually turned him relatively invisible, but given the current bedlam Urufu wasn't given that opportunity and had to take command in person. Ryu could understand that, and he could forgive Urufu that. What he couldn't forgive was how Urufu had hidden his true ability for half a year.

Dammit, I don't mind you being superior, but don't bloody lie about it to my face you shit head!

“Besides, what's so damn good about Urufu anyway,” he murmured. That was unfair, but he didn't care.

With a grimace the picked up his cell and mailed Yukio. Preparing Kyoko to take the stage was her boyfriend’s job after all. Ryu didn't envy him in the least.

After that he elbowed his way through the cafeteria turned restaurant, the shaded area outside under the great sails and sauntered towards the gym. On his way there he made an effort to flirt a little with the middle school girls he met. That earned him flustered giggles from the girls and scowls from their parents.

All in all the short walk from the cafeteria did wonders to his mood, and when he entered the gym he truly felt like the prince of Himekaizen again.

Inside the hall filled up with parents and siblings. He guessed the relatives of those in 6:1 were present in force. The play should start shortly, and after that the fashion show.

He unclipped his radio and pushed the button. “Urufu?”

“Urufu here,” the answer squelched. Reception was less than optimal inside the gym.

“Ryu here. How's staffing at the plaza? 6:1 have a play on stage soon and then it's time for us. Over.”

“Thanks for the heads up. I'll send some extras from 9:1. Jirou can take it from there. Over.

You really never bother with the honorifics. “OK, guess you have it covered then. Over and out.

A few adults looked at him. He guessed they weren't used to the sound of a walkie talkie. He looked back at them while his radio relayed the conversation between a security patrol and Noriko for everyone to hear.

“Kiddo, you in the student council?” The man who asked the question looked like he could have been one of the parents, but something in how he moved was off.

“Sorry, no. I'm just helping out,” Ryu answered.

“Damn, I need someone in charge for the show.”

So he's working here. Uniclo or television I guess. “I can help you with that. It's our club doing the show.”

“You can? Great. We need space for the mixer table and some place from where we can control the spots.”

That needed a translation. “Technicians and equipment, and you need a place for them?”

The man nodded affirmation.

“Would two by two metres do?” There was a trick to keep the flow going. Urufu once taught him that during the field trip in August. By asking the question he bought himself some time to think while handing off the responsibility to act.

It worked perfectly. The man made a call and when he was done Ryu felt prepared to handle whatever was coming his way.

“Better make that two by three.”

Ryu had already picked up his own cell when the question came. “Hang on,” he said and dialled Kuri. She answered almost immediately.

“Hi, I need three guys, the male version with muscles, to carry some stuff for ten minutes or so.”

Ryu nodded at the man who waited for the call to finish.

“Where?” he asked.

Ryu pointed him to a set of chairs in the very middle of the gym hall. “We'll have the area cleared and you can set up your equipment there. Would that work for you?”

“Perfectly,” the man answered and grinned. “Can I use the muscle you send over here?”

“Ten minutes, no more,” Ryu said. “They're models for the show as well, and I guess you want them prepared.”

“Good boy. Ten minutes. I got it. By the way, are you part of the show as well?”

Ryu nodded, and that was enough to raise a few admiring eyebrows around him followed by the giggles he was used to.

Looks like it could be fun after all, he thought. He waved to the man and went for the stage. Kuri was waiting for him together with Yukio who won the booby prize, and had to take the stage when it became clear Urufu wouldn't have time to play his part.

***

Yukio could smell the anticipation in the air, mixed with a bit of fear but also with a lot of joy.

With the school crammed with guests every attraction filled beyond expectations. Even the display room showcasing Himekaizen's history saw a decent turnout.

At the moment, however it was time for 6:1 to shine. Urufu's suggestion to set up West Side Story gave way to a modernised version of the original. Romeo and Juliet was simply a more recognisable title.

For most of the festival he was tied up with the club, especially as their responsibilities had expanded far beyond what was decent to ask of them, and with Urufu at the helm there was no end to the requests.

Yukio suspected Principal Nakagawa was involved somehow. Urufu could be as tight lipped as he wanted, but Yukio wasn't an idiot. An innocent comment there, a spoken oversight here and a determined glance when Urufu mistakenly believed no one saw him all added up to a single conclusion; Principal Nakagawa knew the truth about Urufu and Kuri.

With a deep sigh Yukio rose from his chair backstage and offered a false smile to Hitomi-chan. She held one of the leads. She rather unsurprisingly held it given her undisputed position as class beauty.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

During the months since she joined the club her side as a reliable friend shone through more and more, but like the other princess in the freshman left wing, and to a certain degree Kuri as well, all too often she relied on her looks. Which was why he only offered her a false smile.

Kyoko would be in the audience, because he got shanghaied a week earlier to stand in for a small role in the play. The role was originally assigned to Urufu until it was clear the workload would become impossible.

“Almost time for act one,” he said to no one in particular.

Behind him Kuri laughed together with one of the girls from the drama club. She offered her services with costumes, but he knew she really wanted to make a last ditch recruiting attempt. A couple of the go home club members participated in the play as well.

“Good luck!” Kuri said. She also volunteered for applying make-up and handling costumes, but in her case it made more sense as the fashion show came directly after the play.

At the moment he fingered his prop sword. How anyone had come up with the idea to mix swords with modern day clothes was beyond him.

“Good luck to you as well,” Yukio said and turned.

“Good luck to us, you mean. You're part of the club as well.”

Yukio shrugged and walked onto the stage. Through the curtains he heard the audience and it was barely light enough for him to see where he should be.

Why am I this irritated? The very concept of fun long gone he wondered what had made the festival a chore. Kyoko, I'm afraid how she'll react to the contest, he admitted to himself.

The curtains opened.

***

Christina watched the play from behind. They were better than she expected, the students from 6:1.

I'd have liked to be part of them, but then 6:1 wouldn't be 6:1.

Lights and sounds were close to perfect. Having professionals handling it did wonders, and Uniclo were adamant when it came to who ran the all-important lights. In the end she caved in and let them use highly skilled technicians for the sound as well.

I'd prefer being in 6:1. That thought still haunted her. Due to Ryu and her 3:1 had become a popularity circus. The Watabe twins didn't help and nor did Noriko's close to perfect test scores. But that wasn't the real reason, was it? I want to spend more time with Ulf.

They waved once and hugged once, but that was it for the festival thus far.

Over the radio she heard him running the festival in a way that would have had her consider kidnapping during her years as the billion dollar empress. Superb organisers were usually hard to come by, but until now she had believed the rumoured genius to be a fairy tale.

Until now. Listening to how critical problems dissolved and noting how less critical ones climbed a self-escalating ladder of importance filled her with an almost sexual desire. She accepted that part of herself. How watching almost inhuman competence turned her on.

“Kuri-chan!”

Christina winced and swivelled on her chair. Crap, she saw my face! “Yes, Hitomi-chan?” That girl was way too perceptive, and a beauty in her own right. She had seen, and Christina was certain she recognised what she saw.

“Missing Urufu-kun much?”

Christina felt her cheeks heating up. No way she could play the innocent any more. “Yeah, I do. What of it?” She was surprised how hoarse her voice came out.

Over the radio another terse conversation played out, and another minor disaster vanished.

“Nothing. I envy you,” came Hitomi-chan's frank answer. “Had you chosen Ryu-kun I'd make him mine.”

You wouldn't, but I can't tell you the reason why. “You like him?” Facing a rival made it easier for her to dial down her racing emotions.

“No,” Hitomi-chan answered and climbed into her dress for the last act. “He'd look good by my side, that's all.”

That was one aspect of Japan Christina couldn't come to terms with. When the kids here grew beyond their years they acted like adult in ways that scared her. “Would you really settle for a trophy that way?”

“Yes, why not?” came the surprisingly calm answer. “But you got him first. I guess I ought to congratulate you,” Hitomi-chan said and climbed the stage.

She really doesn't understand how much I love him? A trophy? It was a sobering thought. If most who knew they were a couple saw him as her trophy boyfriend more rivals were bound to line up after the festival. I don't want that. He's mine! Her possessiveness frightened her a bit. Too much like how she used up people and discarded them during the years when she built her empire.

“No, I didn't get him first. I just fell in love with him first,” Christina whispered to the stage. Pangs of loneliness gripped her, and fear. Am I losing him? Sato-sensei is our handle from today onwards, and she wants us to break up. Lieutenant Colonel Sato. A formidable adversary. I'll fight you all the way. If I lose him at least allow me to make it my own fault you bitch!

More students entered the stage around her. A few of them threw her questioning glances.

I need to get my act together. She rose and started handing out the remaining props and clothes she had prepared earlier.

The play would conclude without her help from now on and she turned her attention to the last preparations for the fashion show.

From the back doors her models started arriving. Ryu merrily chatting with Nao-sempai, the second beauty from the left wing clinging to them like a stamp to an envelope and a stunningly good looking Midori-chan. Make-up artists had worked miracles with her hair.

Everyone on the beauty contest short list were pressed into participation, including a shocked Kyoko and a swearing Ulf. And Yukio as well, even though he didn't know it yet. Noriko knew of her own participation though, but to Christina's surprise she didn't protest at all.

Even the Watabe twins grinningly accepted together with a couple of girls from the softball team. Those four were central for the display of sports clothes. Ryu would wear some as well, and Ulf had the build for it, but he moved like a gorilla whenever she forced him to wear sports casuals, so she gave up on that idea.

Strangely enough he walked with an aura of self-confidence in those awful outdoors clothes of his, but he only frowned when she showed him Uniclo's line in that section.

Christina had her own plans for him. Costumes and sports jackets. No one else, not even Nao-sempai could compare when it came to dressing up and still behave like someone in jeans and T-shirt.

Because those were your jeans and T-shirts for half your life. I want to see you in a high quality costume when you're thirty. Damn, you'll probably look like a Greek god! And that thought had her all flustered again. I guess... She blushed even more. I guess… That seed of a thought both scared her and filled her with joy. I guess I want to marry you.

Helplessly in love. Not as a teenage girl but an adult with a good grasp of what forever meant. I'd share my life with you. I'd age with you. I'd love you forever.