The Thief

to get to the front of the room. Camille merely walks around the edge of the group, coming to a stop in front of him, one hand resting on the identical practice sword at her waist.

“Everyone else have a seat,” Ikeda says, amusement coloring his voice. As the rest of the class sits where they were, placing their swords beside them on the mat, he steps back to lean against the wall. The two look totally mismatched – Hyde tall and sinewy with dark spiked hair and metal glittering from every facial feature, Camille tiny and golden, with the exception of that weird iron bracer on her left arm. You’d think she’d take that thing off for something like this.

Hyde holds his wooden sword out at arm’s length, pointing it at Camille. “This is your only warning,” he sneers at her. “I love fighting newbies, and I don’t care that you’re a girl.”

Camille merely inclines her head, and then dips into a perfect Japanese bow. Hyde just laughs again, a throaty cackle. I slip a glance at Destin. She’s in trouble.

When Camille straightens up, Ikeda says, “Begin.”

Hyde’s first move is a flurry of power. Camille doesn’t even draw her sword. She sidesteps and ducks. Hyde blows right past her. He cocks his head and straightens up as he turns.

“Dodgy,” he comments, and swings at her again with a yell.

I flinch. If he connects with her, she’ll definitely sustain a serious injury, like Poggio, wooden sword or no. But Camille still doesn’t draw. She merely spins where she stands. He oversteps, compensating for the lack of impact. Her foot catches his ankle. She hooks his leg out from under him. Hyde drops on the mat with a grunt of pain, but immediately scrambles to his feet.

“What the hell are you playing at?” he snaps, pointing his sword at her again.

“You, it looks like,” Jacques calls. Several chuckles rise from the class.

Hyde’s face flushes. “Use your freaking sword!” he growls at her.

“When I need it,” Camille says, sounding bored.

He comes at her a third time, wilder than ever. In a flash, Camille drops into a roll and pops back up behind him. She plants a foot in his back as he goes past. He stumbles, out of balance, and falls flat on his face. The entire class breaks into laughter.

“Settle down, settle down,” Ikeda holds up his hands, stepping forward to stand by Camille. “I think that’s enough for one day.”

“What? Sensei!” Hyde protests, rubbing his nose. “Come on! She didn’t use her sword! This isn’t karate class!”

“No, it’s not,” Ikeda says, the same amusement coloring his voice. “So you’d better hope I don’t ask you to fight her tomorrow.”

That’s when I notice her belt is black. Holy crap. She’s a black belt. How had I missed it?

Ikeda starts talking to Camille in Japanese, and she replies fluently, happily, and they share a laugh about something – but I have a feeling it’s at Hyde’s expense. So does Hyde, apparently, by the flush that creeps up his neck. Ikeda and Camille chatter back and forth unintelligibly, and it’s clear Ikeda has found a new favorite.

The sudden sense of admiration I feel for the foreign girl becomes tinged with concern as I see the way Hyde is looking at her. As she placidly puts away her sword in the rack against the far wall, I see the murder hatching in his eyes. I glance at Destin, and I can tell he’d seen it too.

I was right after all. Our new classmate has no idea what she’s just stepped into.

Destin and I catch up with her on the way out. “That was some awesome non-sword work there,” I tell her as we walk alongside her.

“Ari- Thank you,” she says, correcting herself.

“You uh, you may not have noticed, but I think you pissed off Hyde.”

Camille glances at me dismissively. “I noticed.”

“No, I mean, you’re new and all, so you might not be aware that he’s really not the kind of enemy you want to have.”

Camille snorts softly. “I’ll be fine.”

“He’ll try to fight you again,” Destin says.

“And not in class, either,” I add.

“Not a problem,” she says.

In my opinion, a day really ought to contain only a limited amount of disappointment. The universe apparently disagrees with me. When we get back to our lockers, Destin’s is empty. I can almost see his soul departing out his ears as he gazes forlornly at the slender metal void.

“I had four new releases in there...” he says hollowly.

This just doesn’t make any sense. Candy bars? Soda? Comics? I peer closely into his locker. There’s some kind of scratch on one wall...three thin, parallel lines...

“I hadn’t even read them yet,” Destin murmurs, still in shock.

A cackle behind us announces Hyde. “Is wittle baby Heron missing his woobie?”

Realization lights through me. “You!” I declare, pointing at him, “All this is your fault!”

“Me?” he sneers. “Well that would be convenient. Go ahead and try to pin it on me, midget, I dare you. I am untouchable.” He shoves me and I hit the lockers with a loud metallic rattle. “You on the other hand...” he chuckles, strolling away down the hall.

“Alright that is it!” I declare, turning to Destin. “This will not go unanswered! We are coming back here tonight and we are staking out this hall until we catch Hyde in the act!”

“We are?”

“We are.”

“And what happens when he turns around and kicks our asses?”

“We have a more credible story when we tell Principal Umino about it tomorrow.”

“I’m going to go on record as not liking this plan.”

“Mac.”

I try to ignore him. We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile. If anyone catches us in the school at night, we’re in for a heap of trouble. Also, there’s no way we can catch Hyde if he sees us first.

“Mac.”

“What?” I whisper.

“If this doesn’t work...” Destin trails off.

“It’ll work,” I insist.

“If it doesn’t work,” he says, “You owe me a new Sandman.”

“Your sacrifice will not be forgotten,” I assure him.

We had talked about this, but it obviously still bothers him. I had pointed out that the thief was only going for the good stuff - the food, the books, the comics. It’s the kind of stuff I would steal, honestly, if I had no sense of human property. Also I would get caught.

Like I expect that spiky-headed pincushion-face to. He’s finally going to get it, for once. Well, for twice. Camille had thrashed him good in kendo, undeniable. I grin at the remembrance. I’m going to keep that like a movie in my head, to play whenever I need cheering up.

Since Destin’s locker had already been cleaned out, we stuffed mine with chocolate, soda, and his comics. And a dozen mouse traps. It’s not so much that I expect Hyde to stick his fingers in one – it’s that I expect them to make a ton of noise when he opens the locker. It’s dark in the hall, after all, and we can’t see that well. So we need to know when to flip the lights and end that jerk’s locker spree.

No one pilfers my candy beans and gets away with it.

“Okay, here’s what I don’t get,” Destin says under his breath. “I get that Hyde would mess with us. But why the comics? He has zero interest in them. And why swipe from other people’s lockers too? You’d have to be insane to swipe from Chase.”

“Chase went straight to us,” I say. “It’s got to be about framing us. And you heard him, he thinks he’s untouchable. Freaking teacher’s pet. Principal’s pet? Is that the right term?”

“Maybe,” he says. “But here’s the thing...I put the comics in right before we went to kendo. Hyde was at