Kudo Kids--The Mystery of the Masked Medalist

by Maia Shibutani

  “Yes!” Andy read from his screen, his voice rising in his excitement. “‘The team to correctly guess the Masked Medalist’s identity will get to be beta testers for my next games!’”

  He held his phone out and watched as his sister read the rest of the update, her expression rapidly changing from confused to ecstatic.

  “Beta testers for new games?!” she yelped. “And working with an actual Olympian?! Wow. That would be so amazing!”

  “You mean that will be so amazing,” Andy corrected her with a grin. Opening his messages, he started typing a response to Devon. “We’re def gonna win this thing.”

  OLYMPIFAN UPDATE!

  Special message from the Masked Medalist

  Hello, OlympiFans! At long last, the Olympic Games are here—which means our game is finally about to begin. You’ll find tons of

  awesome videos featuring your favorite Olympic athletes in the

  OlympiFan Gallery that officially opens tomorrow!

  Only one team will win the SECRET GRAND PRIZE . . . but not with points. To win, your team must answer one question:

  Who is the Masked Medalist?

  That’s right—the first team to correctly guess my identity will win the

  SECRET GRAND PRIZE: becoming beta testers for my upcoming games! I’m launching a new gaming company, so it’s time for the Masked

  Medalist to be unmasked. Those three medals you’re searching for come with more than points: each one includes a hint or two that will help your team guess who I am. Each team will have ONE chance

  to guess, so every hint helps! Teams who find medals can

  choose between more points, or more hints:

  Bronze

  250 points + 2 hints OR 500 points + 1 hint

  The team who wins the Bronze will immediately receive the next 5

  locations and a 1-hour head start on the search for the Silver medal!

  Silver

  500 points + 2 hints OR 750 points + 1 hint

  The team who wins the Silver will immediately receive the last 5

  locations and a 1-hour head start on the search for the Gold medal!

  Gold

  750 points + 2 hints OR 1,000 points + 1 hint

  Are you ready? Set? . . .

  GO!!!

  CHAPTER TWO

  MIKA

  BEEP-BEEP. BEEP-BEEP.

  Mika jolted upright in bed and snatched her phone from her nightstand. She swiped the screen, silencing the robot ringtone she’d selected for her alarm. The clock read 7:00 a.m., and Mika felt a thrill of excitement. This afternoon, she’d be on a plane to Tokyo!

  Opening her notes app, Mika scanned the extensive checklist she’d made the previous week. Two bags—both blue, Mika’s favorite color—sat next to her door: a large suitcase with wheels, and a matching backpack with extra straps that attached to the suitcase. She’d checked everything off her list last night as she packed before going to bed, but it couldn’t hurt to go over it again, just to be safe.

  A map on the dresser caught Mika’s eye, and she grimaced. She and Riley had gone on a tour of Marshall Middle School with the rest of their fifth-grade class at the end of spring. The building had seemed like a gigantic maze of never-ending hallways with banging lockers, loud bells, and crowds of scary older kids moving from class to class. Mika had taken the map home, intent on memorizing it, but looking at it just made her even more nervous about starting sixth grade.

  After brushing her teeth, pulling her long black hair into a ponytail, and changing into denim shorts and a blue-and-white-striped shirt, Mika headed downstairs. Her brother’s door was closed, and Mika was pretty sure she could hear his alarm still going off inside. Mom had told them to get up at seven. For Mika, that meant setting an alarm for seven. For Andy, that meant setting an alarm for six thirty. Or at least, that’s what Mika told him to do before they’d gone to bed.

  “You have to actually get up at seven,” she’d said anxiously. “If you sleep in, we’ll miss our flight!”

  “I won’t sleep in,” Andy had replied, rolling his eyes as he set his alarm for seven. “I promise.”

  Lily and Po, like two fluffy white tornadoes, greeted Mika at the foot of the stairs, dragging their leashes behind them. She knelt down to snuggle both of them and spotted Mom in the living room, rummaging through a small box.

  “Plenty of food for the next few weeks, bowls, beds, two rubber bones . . .” Mom looked up at Mika. “Did I forget anything?”

  “Nope!” Mika gave each puppy a kiss. “Have fun with Riley and Turtle, guys!”

  “Be back in a few minutes.” Mom held the box under one arm and picked up the leashes. She glanced up the stairs. “Is Andy awake yet?”

  “His alarm’s going off,” Mika told her. “And I set a second one on his phone last night while he was in the shower. With a siren ringtone. I knew he’d sleep through the first one.”

  Mom laughed. “Nice job!”

  When Mika entered the kitchen, she found Dad grinding coffee beans. “Morning!” he said cheerfully, pouring the grounds into the coffee maker. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Pretty good,” Mika replied. It wasn’t exactly true. She’d been so excited about their trip that she’d stayed awake for hours. “What time are we leaving?”

  “Quarter to eight-ish.” Two pieces of toast popped up from the toaster. Whistling, Dad opened the fridge and pulled out the butter.

  Mika grabbed a box of cereal from the pantry. As she poured herself a bowl, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She sat down at the table with the cereal and pulled her phone out.

  RJ: Did you do it?!?!

  Mika’s stomach did a little flip. She started to respond to Riley, but then Dad sat down at the table with his toast. Quickly, Mika closed the message and opened OlympiFan instead.

  “Check it out,” she said, setting her phone down so that Dad could see the screen. After the opening ceremony, OlympiFan’s Gallery had opened, and there were tons of videos, each featuring a different Olympic athlete—but they were all locked, and each one “cost” twenty points. Mika and Andy had sat on the couch for hours scrolling through all of the names until Mom finally convinced them to go to bed.

  “Team MADR?” Dad’s brow furrowed. “What’s that?”

  Mika grinned. “That’s our team name. Mika-Andy-Devon-Riley.”

  “Ah.”

  “See, once you form a team you get a private chat room, which is cool because we won’t have to keep texting each other. And you can look at other players’ profiles and send them messages and pictures, too.” Mika cast a sideways glance at Dad. “It’s not that different from having an Instagram account, actually.”

  The coffee maker beeped, and Dad stood up. “Oh, really?”

  “Really.” Mika sat up straighter, watching as Dad poured a cup of coffee. “It’s practically the same thing, if you really think about it. And you and Mom don’t mind Andy and me playing OlympiFan, sooo . . .”

  “Sooo . . .” Dad sat down again, cradling the mug in his hands. “Mika, it feels like we’ve had this conversation at least twice a week this summer. You know the rule—no social media until you’re thirteen.”

  Mika slumped back down in her chair. “But it’s the same thing!” she repeated.

  “It’s not the same thing,” Dad said lightly. “OlympiFan is a game. You and Andy have lots of games on your phones, and most of them let you interact with other players. Social media is different.”

  “But—”

  “Mika, you already know what Mom and I think about this.” Dad took a sip of coffee. “What’s going on? You didn’t seem all that interested in Instagram until recently. Is it because of the masked . . . whatever?”

  “The Masked Medalist,” Mika said. “And no, that’s not why. Their account is pub
lic, so I can see their posts. I just . . . I want my own account.”

  “Why?”

  Mika shrugged, eating a spoonful of cereal to stall for time. The truth was that right after fifth-grade graduation, Riley had joined Instagram. She mostly posted pictures of Turtle and the books she was reading. But a bunch of other kids from school were on there too, and every time Mika went to look at Riley’s pictures, she could read all of their comments. Then she’d look at their photos and see Riley’s comments. It felt like there was a fun party going on without her—Mika didn’t like it one bit.

  And the night before, Mika had found another reason to join Instagram. A big one. But she definitely couldn’t tell Dad about that.

  She could tell Riley, though. Mika was itching to text her best friend back, but Dad was still watching her.

  “My photos are really good,” she said finally. “You and Mom always say that.”

  “They are really good,” Dad agreed. “You have a photographer’s eye.”

  Mika felt a rush of happiness at the praise. “And, well, I could share them on Instagram.”

  “You could.” Dad smiled. “And you will! When you’re thirteen. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Mika’s stomach twisted with guilt. She took another bite of cereal and tried to ignore it.

  “Morning!” Mom breezed into the kitchen, heading straight for the coffee maker. “I just scheduled a car. It’ll be here in about twenty minutes. Mika, would you see if Andy needs any help packing when you’re done with that?”

  “Sure!”

  Mika finished off her cereal, washed out the bowl, and raced up the stairs two at a time. “Knock-knock!” she called before barreling into Andy’s room. “Are you ready to—uh-oh.”

  Andy was sprawled on top of his comforter, fast asleep, his phone clutched in one hand. He let out a soft snore, and Mika snickered.

  “Come onnn. I know you’re faking.”

  But Andy didn’t budge. Mika frowned.

  “Are you seriously still asleep?! What about the second alarm?”

  She marched over to his bed and snatched the phone from his hand.

  “Wha—” Andy blinked blearily, then tried to grab the phone back. Mika held it out of reach and tapped the screen, but it remained dark.

  “Your battery died, you dork!” she exclaimed. “Why didn’t you plug it in before you went to bed?”

  “I meant to.” Andy sat up, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

  Mika saw the charger sticking out from under his bed. She grabbed it and plugged it in, then set his phone down on the dresser to charge. “We’re leaving in twenty minutes,” she told him. “Want me to take your bags downstairs while you get dressed?”

  “Ummm . . .” A guilty expression flashed across her brother’s face, and she followed his gaze to the yellow suitcase lying open by the door. Other than a few pairs of shorts, it was empty.

  “Andy!” Mika cried. “You aren’t even packed yet?”

  “I started to!” he said defensively, jumping out of bed and running over to his closet. “But then I started looking at the map of Tokyo in OlympiFan, and, well . . .”

  Mika groaned. Pulling out her own phone, she opened the checklist again. “Okay. You pack your clothes, I’ll go get your stuff from the bathroom.”

  “Thanks!” Andy yelled, already pulling shirts off their hangers.

  Fifteen minutes later, Mika dragged Andy’s stuffed suitcase down the stairs. Through the window next to the front door, she saw a silver minivan pulling up to the curb. “The car’s here!” she bellowed.

  Mika helped Mom and Dad load all of their luggage into the trunk, checking over her shoulder every few seconds for Andy. Finally, he burst outside and jogged down the sidewalk, struggling to zip up his bag. Mom locked the front door while Mika and Andy climbed into the back seat. Dad greeted the driver and slid into the passenger seat in front of Mika. Once Mom was buckled in, they were off.

  Exhaling, Mika checked the time on her phone. Seven forty-eight. Still plenty of time to make their flight, even if the line at security was superlong.

  Andy yawned widely. “Thanks for helping me pack,” he said. “Ugh, I’m starving.”

  “Told ya. Should’ve woken up earlier.” Mika unzipped the front pocket of the backpack at her feet. “Luckily you have a really awesome and brilliant sister.”

  She handed him a granola bar, and Andy grinned, taking it. “I do have an awesome sister.”

  “You forgot brilliant.”

  “No I didn’t.”

  Mika elbowed him, and he nudged her away before unwrapping the granola bar. While he ate, Mika opened her messages again. Riley had sent another text:

  RJ: WELL???

  But before Mika could type a response, Andy started shifting around in his seat. His eyes were wide and frantic as he patted his pockets, then unzipped his backpack. The minivan headed up the ramp onto the highway. Palm trees streamed past against a clear blue sky.

  “Oh no,” Andy mumbled. “No no no no no no . . .”

  “Forget something?” Dad asked, twisting around in his seat.

  “Probably, considering he packed like ten minutes ago,” Mika said teasingly. But Andy was too busy rummaging through the jumbled-up contents of his backpack to answer.

  “It’s okay, Andy,” Mom told him. “Whatever you forgot, we’ll be able to find it in Tokyo.”

  Andy set his backpack on the floor, then checked his pockets again. “Um, I don’t think so.”

  “What’d you forget?” Dad asked.

  Andy swallowed. “My phone. The battery died, so I was letting it charge until the last minute, but then the car showed up and . . .”

  Groaning, Mika thunked her head against her seat. “Andy!”

  Mom and Dad exchanged a look. “All right, he wins.” Mom was trying to sound easygoing, but her smile was tight. “We definitely can’t find Andy’s phone in Tokyo.”

  The driver glanced at Dad. “Am I turning around?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Dad replied.

  Mika fought down a small wave of panic as the minivan moved into the right lane to exit.

  “We’ve got time, it’s okay,” Mom said, checking her watch. “Everybody relax.”

  But thanks to a few ridiculously long red lights, it was almost fifteen minutes before they pulled up in front of the house. As Mom and Andy hustled out of the minivan and ran up the sidewalk, Mika turned her attention back to her phone. She opened the messages app and typed a quick response to Riley.

  MK: Not yet, but I’m going to!

  She hit send, then felt a wave of excitement—and guilt, too. Mika wasn’t a rule breaker. Well, not of the important rules, the big ones. But this was different.

  Besides, wasn’t a girl entitled to have a secret or two?

  OLYMPIFAN UPDATE!

  Locations for the Bronze Medal

  Good morning/afternoon/evening, OlympiFans!

  Thousands of the greatest athletes in the world are in Tokyo right now, getting ready to rock their events. Are YOU as ready as they are? Because, here we go . . .

  clues leading to the virtual Bronze medal are waiting for you in these locations:

  Shibuya

  Shinjuku

  Harajuku

  Jingumae

  Aoyama

  Happy clue hunting, OlympiFans!

  CHAPTER THREE

  ANDY

  “WE’RE NEVER GONNA make it.”

  Andy didn’t respond to his sister, who was standing on tiptoe trying to see how many people were still ahead of them in the security check line. He glanced from his mom to his dad. They both looked calm, but in that forced way adults had when they didn’t want you to know they were worried.

  He couldn’t believe he’d le
ft his phone at home. Or that he’d slept in. Well, Andy admitted to himself, maybe that part wasn’t so surprising. Especially considering he’d been up really late on OlympiFan. There was a map of Tokyo, and tapping on a spot brought up a description of the area with some of the most popular attractions. Andy had read them until drifting off to sleep . . . without charging his phone. Now, thanks to him—and a few ridiculously slow red lights, and traffic on the highway, and a long wait at baggage check, and just a ton of bad luck in general—the Kudos might miss their flight to Tokyo.

  The line moved forward, and Dad checked the time on his phone. “Boarding starts in five minutes,” he said, and Andy’s stomach plummeted. “That usually takes at least half an hour,” Dad added reassuringly.

  “We’ll make it,” Mom agreed, probably because Mika was clawing at her cheeks with her fingers in a way that made her look slightly bug-eyed. “Relax, okay?”

  Mika nodded, but she kept pulling at her face. Andy would’ve laughed if he hadn’t felt so guilty.

  “Here we go,” Dad said as the line moved again. “Shoes off!”

  Andy moved quickly, placing his sneakers and phone in a bin, then slid it down the conveyor belt along with his backpack. He went through the body scanner first, followed by Mika, and they scrambled to get their shoes back on while Mom and Dad came through.

  “All right,” Dad said, hoisting the strap of his laptop bag over his shoulder. “Shoes, bags, phones—everyone got everything? Andy?”

  “Yeah, I have everything,” Andy mumbled, grabbing his phone from the bin.

  Mom checked her watch. “Okay, it’s only been boarding for a few minutes. Gate C54 . . .” She squinted at the signs overhead, and her expression tightened. “Ah.”

  Andy followed her gaze and saw the nearest gate was C3. “C54?” he said with a groan. “It’s sooo far!”

  Dad had already started jogging through the terminal. “Well, let’s get a move on!”