Story:

Meanwhile, in the shade at the edge of the field, under the spreading shadow of the big tree where the boys who didn't intend to sweat had gathered, Bill and Yoshiro were leaning against the trunk—

Not stretching, not warming up, exerting no physical effort whatsoever, as they had no intention of spending sweat and strength on something as useless as PE class.

Their minds, all morning, had been on something far more interesting.

"Okay, so," Yoshiro was murmuring, watching the purple shirt glow out on the grass. "Same approach as before? Little sister lost in a big country, help her with Japanese homework, then—"

"Too slow," said Bill, arms crossed, red eyes half-lidded, lips curled in that new angle he'd been wearing since the sisters walked in.

"And too small. Look at them. Women like that don't fall for homework." He tilted his head, studying Violet's warm-up like a chessboard.

"You start bigger with this kind. Parties. Weekends. A little attention, a little charm, the right drink, the right favor... then the games begin."