Chapter Text
The drama club had made it sound so easy. We don’t even need you to be in the show, Yachi. We’ll just make you an understudy. Just help us out. Please. I know you’re busy with managing volleyball. We don’t need your time. We just need one more name on a piece of paper. To satisfy the formalities. Show up on the day. Wear the production t-shirt. That’s it.
She was third understudy to the female lead. She wasn’t asked to rehearsals. She didn’t even have a copy of the script. The club budget paid for her t-shirt. They told her she could keep it. She wore it to volleyball trainings when she didn’t get round to doing the laundry. She wore it with slouchy pants on the weekends. While she cleaned the house. While she studied. She wore it to bed sometimes. The lettering started to crack.
One death in the family. One sudden move. One badly broken leg.
She was the lead.
Takeda-sensei waved off her apologies with a kind smile. Shimizu-senpai picked up the slack without fanfare. She wouldn’t miss all the club events. It was just for a little while. We’ll miss you. Do us proud. How exciting Yachi! Not villager B anymore, huh? She thought even Tsukishima looked a little impressed. More likely it was probably something like surprise. Later she’d realise it was vague concern, a hint of apprehension. Maybe it was on her behalf. Maybe he just had foresight of what heroine usually meant.
Behind the glare on his lenses, Yachi couldn’t see his eyes flick to Yamaguchi.
They did a read-through of the first act at her first rehearsal. Afterward, they pulled her aside to fit her for a costume. The props girl frowned at the measuring tape in her fingers. Yachi tried on three dresses. Even the smallest of them sagged. Meet with the sewing club tomorrow. Just a bit of adjustment. These dresses were meant for second and third years, after all. Don’t worry about it. The sewing club’s Riko is a great seamstress. Riko does all the drama club tailoring.
If you have one, wear a push-up bra tomorrow.
That night, Yachi took to her script with highlighter. Green for her dialogue. Pink for cues. Yellow for stage direction. There wasn’t as much dialogue as she would have expected from a lead role. Yeah, she would be on stage for most scenes, but just to react. She didn’t have so many lines to memorise. She could do this. Act 1. Some responses to obvious cues. Act 2. A brief monologue.
Act 3.
The yellow highlighter slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor.