Sucked into a Fantasy Game

It was their second semester of their first year now.

Kiyomi started spending more time with Sako the more they hung out. They spent lunchtime together, and even went home together after Kiyomi waited for Sako to finish her extracurricular activities. She would play phone games as she waited.

Sako became so notorious for her fighting prowess and sudden appearances in the middle of conflicts that her reputation spread, and the seniors took interest. People knew her. She was popular. And of course, everyone kept all the fighting they all did a secret from the faculty and Student Council. No one wanted to be a snitch. Snitches were uncool. If anyone needed help, they went to Sako.

The seniors never intimidated Sako. No one did. She kicked their asses too if they deserved it. Their ages made no difference. 

Despite her aggressiveness, her fighting style had a stunning grace, like an elegant, white swan gliding across a still lake under the moon. Sometimes, Kiyomi pictured that whenever she saw Sako in action. She didn't write poetry, but fuck. Her moves were refined, confident, and smooth. She had speed, strength, knowledge, physical flexibility, and adaptability—she adapted to her situation and improvised when she needed to. Her flexibility and knowledge of martial arts were what gave her an edge over most boys: they tended to rely on strength, sometimes speed too, but she remained 20 steps ahead.

It wasn’t just her own training that gave Sako her skills. Her dad was a soldier, and he taught her well. No hesitation. Always go for the target. If the target began retreating, chase after it and put it down for good. Her kicks felt like “cinder blocks”, someone said one time after leaving the nurse’s office. She had the habit of finishing her fights with a powerful kick to the head. No one ever saw it coming. It just happened. She didn’t pull her punches for the girls either. Everyone got the same treatment.

Kiyomi and Sako took some classes together this semester including PE, so they changed together in the locker room. Kiyomi always got the chance to see Sako’s muscles for the few seconds she had her shirt off. She tried not to make her staring obvious and just looked occasionally. She had abs too.

One day, they got to the locker room earlier than everyone else, so it was empty. Sako caught her staring as she took her unbuttoned shirt off. “Do you… wanna feel them?”

Kiyomi’s heart jumped, and she looked away. “...Sort of…”

“You can.” She paused to give her a chance.

Kiyomi looked at her arms. Even just looking at them, she could tell they were toned and tough, built from years of experience.

“Don’t be shy.” 

She moved closer and felt her arms. “And…”

“My abs?”

“How did you know?”

“Girls like to feel them a lot, so I know what to expect by now.” Sako cracked a smile.

“Oh.” Kiyomi flushed. Thankfully, they were alone. She ran her hand over Sako’s stomach. It was tough like steel. She was impressed. “Don’t… tell anyone about this.”

She burst out laughing and wiped a tear from her eye. “Of course not.”

Sako wasn’t just a musclehead. Her grades were outstanding, and she even tutored Kiyomi and helped her pass her classes.

At the end of the school year, a bully had enough and told the Student Council. He didn’t care about incriminating himself. His spite for Sako was greater than his fear of admitting that he too had been in the wrong during his scuffle with her and even before when had been harassing a girl who had run to her for help. Naturally, he became an outcast, and people couldn’t trust him with anything.

During final exams, the president called Sako into her office.

Kiyomi eavesdropped by the door.

“Someone reported it?” Sako stood before the prez’s desk.

“You were fighting in broad daylight, so of course there were witnesses! How dense can you get?!”

“Pretty dense, I’d say,” the vice prez mumbled from his seat in the corner on the couch as he sipped his tea.

“Um…” Sako tried to find a plausible defense. “He looked sketchy… and he was stalking this girl—”

“Kosetsu! You can’t turn violent simply because of that. Even if things turned physical, you don’t solve violence with more violence! You talk things through.” The prez glared from her chair behind her desk.

“But talking doesn’t solve anything.” There was a hint of gloom in her tone. She hung her head, staring down at her own shoes.

“We’re talking now, aren’t we? Are you saying that our conversation is pointless? Should I just slap you with a harsh penalty and send you on your way?”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t.”

“Then let’s try to reason through this together. I can’t have you going around attacking bullies. You’d be no better than them, and you’d be setting a bad example for prefects and students. Next thing you know, we have fights breaking out more frequently because they saw a certain prefect.”

Part of Sako regretted her actions earlier, but part of her also thought the boy had deserved the kick to the face, which then knocked him out cold. She thought about it in the long silence that the prez allowed for her to reflect. Mom wouldn't be proud of her, so she wouldn’t tell her. But… what would Dad say?

“You know what…” She lifted her head, walked up to the prez’s desk where the prez sat, and looked the prez straight in the eye. “I’d do it again.”

Instantly, she replied. “You’re no longer a prefect. Get out.”

Sako pulled the pin from her shirt, put it on the prez’s desk, turned around, and walked out.

At the start of the second year, she continued strong, and her popularity spiked. Many feared her. Many saw her as reliable. They came to her for advice on many things—from academics, clubs, and sports to friendships.

But then midway through the semester, someone had it out for her. Someone made an anonymous report. Neither Kiyomi nor Sako could figure out who or why. Maybe out of envy. Maybe the same boy from last year. They asked around, but no one could tell them the culprit.

The principal slapped her and some bullies with a 3-week suspension, non-negotiable.

Kiyomi reached out to her, but Sako never answered any of her calls or messages. She wanted to go over to her house and check on her, but she didn’t want Sako to yell at her and tell her to go home, so she gave her space.

After those 3 weeks of silence, Sako came back as a different person. She was much quieter and kept to herself. She pushed everyone away and started ignoring most of what Kiyomi said whenever they talked. In fact, Kiyomi did most of the talking.

Kiyomi found her sitting on a desk in an empty classroom one evening after school.

Sako was staring out the window at the sunset.

“Hey, don’t you have stuff to do?” She had forgotten her textbooks, that was why she had come back.

Sako mumbled something back, keeping her gaze on the orange sunset.

“What?”

“I quit.”

“Quit what?”

“Everything.”

Kiyomi walked up to her desk and sat next to her. “Do you want to talk about it?” They hadn’t had a good talk in a while. Because Sako was moody recently, Kiyomi was back to playing video games alone. She waited patiently, but Sako didn’t reply.

She didn’t know how to fix this. Sako wasn’t a video game character with chat options.

Silence lingered in the air.

She mustered up the courage and tried again. “There’s this cool movie out. We can go weekend—”

“Why are you always so fucking clingy…” Sako mumbled.

“...I was just offering…”

She stayed quiet.

After 10 long minutes of digging through her mind for the right words, she gave up and went home. That deep, bleeding wound stayed inside her for the rest of the year. They stopped talking.

In their third year, Sako gradually came around. She had cut her hair and was almost as peppy as she used to be in her first year. She had mellowed out: she was meek, polite, honest, and never chose violence. She had lost her spine and was a mere shell of her former self. A weak pushover who apologized to everyone for everything. She didn’t even defend herself and instead took the hits.

Honestly, this new Sako annoyed Kiyomi. She couldn’t respect her as much as she had back then. Sako wasn’t as attractive anymore. Because of this, Kiyomi found it easier to be less clingy and more independent. But she was still happy to have her around most times; her love for her was the same.

Rarely, she caught Sako frowning, and whenever she asked what was wrong, Sako said, “Nothing”.

Eventually, Sako and a boy started hanging out. Her friends had given her advice, so she had gone with it, and it had worked. Day after day, they became a bit closer.

Kiyomi was happy for her, but also sad, since Sako didn't spend as much time with her anymore.

~~~

Kiyomi missed Sako’s old self. She longed to see that side of Sako again—when she would take a stand and fight her enemies without a second thought with that intimidating but admirable and unwavering ferocity that used to break through everything in its path. Sako had been the epitome of coolness. But then all her resolve had melted away.

Murdering Luna with that chair had been the best thing Kiyomi had seen from her since their first year. That dangerous rage had been a small spark of her former self… That had been why she had enjoyed seeing her lose her composure—lose that tameness and timidness that confined her nowadays.