Hunt

Emi, Mrs. Kozue, and I stood in the parking lot of the school. Emi hadn't been able to get me a spot in the marching band's cheerleading team. It was disappointing, of course, but my hopes weren't that high to begin with. Trying to join a purely-physical activity club while being stuck in each other's bodies was already dodgy, to say the least.

However, it affected Emi more than I would've imagined. I understood the guilt, but seeing her cry was unexpectedly crushing—and weird, since I was seeing myself doing so.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you tried your best," I smiled. "Regardless, any club will be fun, so why don't we go look for one together?"

She glanced at me. Her frown made me doubt if she was going to accept. After a few seconds of silence, she swept her tears away.

"Sure," she replied.

Even though the opportunity to join the club I wanted was lost, Emi's reply made my shoulders loosen up.

"Let's go."

Emi and I had just turned around when, out of nowhere, Mrs. Kozue said, "Wait—" but stopped. She glanced at the both of us before smiling, "Nevermind. Take your time, I'll be waiting for you."

We both nodded and headed back into the building.

In short, we were unable to find a club with free spots after visiting eight of them. Emi's eyes gradually dimmed down with every "I'm sorry" we heard.

My hopes went through the floor too. Although getting into a club wasn't mandatory, I wanted to spend my afternoons doing something productive and not staying at home all the time. The thought of giving up crossed my mind multiple times, but I wasn't going to give up.

Only fifteen minutes remained before the school closed down when we arrived at the only other club we had yet to visit: the Sewing Club. Although it didn't sound very interesting to me, I wasn't against the idea.

The seven people inside were shocked when we entered the room, which was quite small. Four sewing machines sat on top of two tables lit by the sunlight coming in through the windows behind them, while tools and supplies lay across shelves and two smaller tables.

Their hospitality made me feel welcome right away instead of feeling like they were trying to sell me their club—which wasn't a bad thing, but it was far more artificial.

Everyone introduced themselves before showing us around the room, which didn't take long. Emi's silence made me realize I was going to struggle to socialize in such a tight space where everyone was already friends with each other, but I was willing to work to overcome it.

Not even five minutes later, I joined the club.

Emi and I returned with Mrs. Kozue, who was already sitting in the driver's seat of the SUV. As soon as we hopped in, she looked at me through the rearview mirror and asked, "Were you able to find a club?"

"Yes," I answered as I fastened my seatbelt.

Her eyes opened wide. "Really? Which one?"

"The Sewing Club. To be honest, sewing isn't very interesting to me, but they were incredibly friendly and made it sound quite fun."

"I'm glad to hear that," she smiled. "I… was hesitant to let you look for another club because they always fill up within an hour, now I'm happy I didn't stop you."

She turned the car on and drove us back home.

Not much happened during the rest of the afternoon and the evening, but I did notice that Emi was feeling under the weather during dinner even though she was trying to act normal—perks of knowing your own body.

She went to her room as soon as she was done eating. Although I was worried for her, I decided not to disturb her.

The next morning arrived. I was choosing what to wear for the day when I heard footsteps on the other side of the door, then the door of Emi's room closed. That was the signal for me to know that the shower was free.

Even though I had gotten used to showering in Emi's body, the temptation to take a peek down never went away, but I knew that aside from the guilt consuming me, Emi would've tortured and then murdered me. Nonetheless, I was also sure she was tempted as well.

The smell of the breakfast being prepared tickled my nose as I walked back to my room, but they hadn't called us to eat yet.

I grabbed the knob of the door but didn't turn it. Instead, I stared at Emi's room, arguing with myself whether I should bother her or not. My brain was telling me it wasn't a good idea, yet my body moved on its own and knocked on the door.

She usually answered within a few seconds, but not this time. I knocked again, to no avail. About to turn the knob, I stopped myself; I had watched too many animes and movies to know it wasn't a good idea, which also was a weird thing to think about since she was in my body.

I gave up and returned to my room.

Twenty minutes later, Mom's shout called me to come to eat, making my stomach growl. I paused the video I was watching on my laptop and rushed downstairs. Weirdly enough, Emi was nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, Mr. Araki approached me from behind. "Were you looking for Emi?"

I jumped and turned around, which did the complete opposite of easing my fear. My mouth trembled as the words struggled to come out.

He continued, "She's in the garage. Why don't you call her for us?"

The situation was already weird enough and his request didn't help the confusion.

"Okay," I replied.

As soon as I walked past him, he grasped my shoulder and scowled, "Don't take too long."

"Y… Yes!"

I ran away and stepped into the garage to escape his glare. I took a deep breath before looking around the room, which I hadn't been in before. However, I noticed two legs sticking out from beneath the sports car.

Suddenly, Emi said, "I told you I was coming."

"Emi?"

The legs jolted and something clanked. She slid out and caressed her forehead as she sat up and looked at me. She had just taken a shower and her face was already dirty.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yes, don't worry. You shouldn't scare someone that is under a car repairing it…"

She stopped talking and snapped her head away. Aside from her forehead getting redder, her cheeks and ears were too.

"I'm sorry, I didn't…. You repair cars?" I asked.

"…I do, is there a problem?"

"No! I just thought that you were into robotics."

"It's a long story."

Instead of being logical and not pressing her for details, I sat down on the floor in front of her and said, "We have time. Actually, we don't. Your dad sent me to tell you breakfast is ready and threatened me not to take too long."

"He sent you? But he just called me a minute ago…"

Realizing what Mr. Araki was trying to do, both Emi and I looked away from each other. I didn't expect this from him.

Emi continued, "I do like electronics. I wanted to join the Robotics Club because they make electronics even more fun, but also because it's the closest I'll get to mechanics in school. Repairing cars is what I like the most."

"That's cool!"

"Really?"

I nodded. "It's fascinating how cars work. They have so many parts and systems that take years to master, it was the reason why I stopped looking into it, just like electronics in general."

"I understand that," she smiled. "But my goal is not only to repair cars, I also want to race them."

"Huh?"

"Have you seen those videos where people meet up with cars they have modified themselves?"

"I think I have."

"Aren't they amazing?"

"They are interesting, yes, but do they race with them?"

"Some do. Legally, of course."

"I see. How did you find out that you liked this?"

"Around ten years ago. It's one of the first memories I have, actually. My parents and I were driving somewhere when the SUV started turning off on its own. We had to stop at a workshop to get it repaired. I remember I kept bothering the mechanic by asking what he was doing, despite my parent's best efforts to stop me. To be fair, the mechanic seemed happy to answer everything," she giggled.

"It's cute imagining a little girl so eager to know about a car."

"Now imagine my parent's despair every time I asked for permission to tamper with the SUV. I had to wait until I was ten and it still took me a year to convince them with presentations to show them that I knew enough not to ruin their car."

"That's even cuter," I giggled. "What about racing?"

"It was a side effect of watching car meetups. I actually go to a go-kart track every time I can."

"That sounds really fun, although I've never driven a go-kart."

"Seriously? We could go together next time."

"Sure."

The conversation came to a halt. I looked away in every direction, not knowing what to say or do. Luckily, Emi continued talking.

"What about you? How did you find out you liked dancing?"

"It's not as interesting as your story. I just stumbled upon some dancing videos and wanted to copy them. What I didn't know was that Mom had been spying on me while I practiced, then she surprised me by signing me up for dancing lessons. I turned out to be a fast learner."

"That's an interesting story to me. Don't you have dancing lessons anymore?"

"No, I'm taking a break after three years of non-stop dancing. I also…. It's also good to try new things."

Although her smile stayed, she scrutinized me in silence. "You quit the lessons because you were going to join the cheerleading team, didn't you?"

She saw right through me.

"I… did. But it's true that I wanted a break and that it's good to try new things."

"Sure," she smiled. Something didn't feel right, yet her smile still felt genuine. "We should go eat before the food gets cold," she said as she stood up.

"And before your dad kills me," I laughed nervously.

The rest of the day flew by. For the first time since I had gotten stuck in Emi's body, my shoulders weren't tense every time I thought about it. Sadly, it still was a burden to go out knowing I had to be extra careful in public, which didn't help my anxiety, so we merely stayed at home.

Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on which angle I saw it—the school's Egg Hunt was going to take place the next morning.

However, I barely got any sleep, not because I was nervous, but because my stomach started aching. Not only that, but it also felt like having a muscle cramp. It became even more worrying when I realized that the spot that was hurting wasn't in the same place as usual.

I thought it was something really bad, but then the pain would stop before returning several minutes later.

It happened over and over again throughout the whole night until it was time to leave for school. Although I knew it was a stupid decision, I didn't want to worry anyone and ruin the day, so we simply drove to school as I tried my best to hide the pain.

To my surprise, they didn't seem to be suspicious about me. Despite the trip feeling like an eternity, I suddenly found myself in one of the school's gardens. Opposite of what happened during the night, the pain didn't go away again. Instead, it kept growing.

I could see the principal giving a speech in front of the students, but I couldn't hear anything. Time had slowed down, yet I was teleporting from one place to another.

Emi talked to me, and I was sure I was replying and doing what she asked me to do, but I couldn't process anything.

Before I realized it, I was standing behind a sea of people. For some reason, I could hear an air horn blasting. Everyone ran away, including Emi, but I couldn't move anymore. The only thing I could do was kneel down on the grass.

Someone approached me and asked something. Even though I could hear him, I wasn't able to understand him. Regardless, I replied, "Yes."

He helped me stand up and I finally realized it was Mr. Tokugawa. He helped me walk for several minutes, yet we were in the infirmary in the blink of an eye.

Another person helped me lie down on a bed, then she asked, "You're Keita Umehara, right?"

Hearing my name woke me up. "Yes," I groaned.

"Okay. Can you tell me where the pain is?"

I quickly put my finger on my stomach.

"I see. Can you describe what you feel?"

"It feels like… something is being crushed and kneaded… like cramps."

"Got it. On a scale of one to ten, how bad is the pain?"

"Ten."

"Okay. I'll give you something for the pain, alright?"

"Please."

She walked away.

The pain had stopped increasing, making it slightly more bearable.

The nurse returned and helped me sit up. She handed me a glass and a pill. I hated eating pills, but for the first time in my life, I didn't choke and gulped it down right away. I lay down again.

A few minutes later, the pain gradually subsided. Even though it still made me groan, it was nothing compared to before.

Now that I was able to understand what people said to me, I asked the nurse what was going on with me. She only said one word and it became obvious.

Out of nowhere, someone pushed the door open: it was Emi, sweating and panting. She approached me and asked, "Are you okay?"

"I am now that I've taken a pill."

She glanced at the nurse, who glanced back at her, then she asked me, "Did she tell you…?"

I nodded. "Do you really go through this every month?"

"I do, but I also take some pills to ease the pain. The nurse recommended them to me back in middle school, actually. I arrived at the infirmary almost passing out," she laughed nervously.

"Just like I did," I laughed, but the pain made me groan and cut it short.

Emi's smile changed into a frown. She stared down at me as her hands shook on the bed and her eyes moved up and down.

"Emi?"

Out of nowhere, she placed her hands on my shoulders and moved her head toward me. In the blink of an eye, our lips touched.

We stayed like that for a couple of seconds until I opened my eyes and saw Emi's face in front of me; I was back in my body.

The relief didn't last long, however. Extreme dizziness hit me, and before I realized it, I was on the floor.

The nurse rushed to help me stand up and lay down on the bed next to Emi's. My vision slowly became clearer as the nurse asked a few questions.

Finally, I was able to think straight. The stomach pain had been replaced with a headache a thousand times milder, which I obviously preferred.

Emi and I glanced at each other and we both let out a deep breath.

"Don't you dare think that kissing in an infirmary means we're dating," said Emi.

"What if we kiss in another place?" I joked.

I was waiting for her to joke back. Instead, she turned her attention to the window. After a moment of silence, she answered, "Depends."