Author's Note: This fic is dedicated to Tiger5913, who got me interested in this fandom. She also helped a lot by providing me with any info I needed. (Of course, any mistakes in this are mine alone.)
Alternate explanations for the Note:
1. It was a forgery.
Pluses: It wouldn't be a problem any longer.
Minuses: Appears to be Uriko's handwriting in every characteristic; beyond a student's capabilities, and too childish a ploy for someone truly skilled in forgery. Fails to explain why Uriko turned red when she saw the note.
2. It was a joke.
Pluses: It would be somewhat funny.
Minuses: Punchline has yet to be delivered. Too drawn-out for a joke by Uriko. Also fails to explain the sincere discomfort evinced by Uriko this morning.
3. It was a dare.
Pluses: Would explain embarrassment.
Minuses: the note's sentiments may still be sincere.
4. It was a mix-up.
Pluses: There are plenty of other "Kenji" the letter could have been meant for.
Minuses: There are not so many "Uriko". And Uriko knows very well which locker is mine.
Kenji rubbed his thumb over the nib of his mechanical pencil as he thought, absentmindedly slashing the graphite against his skin. There had to be a good explanation for this sudden development. Something he was missing, something...and then a horrible idea entered his mind and he quickly jotted it down:
5. Uriko has gone mad.
Pluses: Would explain EVERYTHING.
Minuses: Means her feelings are sincere; makes rejection even harder; Uriko's behavior has otherwise been normal. Despite trauma in past, she has overcome it. Alice would have likely noticed suspicious behavior.
But even as he squashed that idea, an even more awful notion entered his mind, one insidiously pleasing for its persuasiveness even as it presented the most horrifying implications.
6. Busuzima modified Uriko's pheromones and my own so we would become irresistibly attracted to each other once capable of reproduction and thus ensured the breeding of a strong line of zoanthropes.
Pluses: Would explain my attraction to her. Would explain her attraction to me. We were in Busuzima's custody during the same period in childhood, so it is possible for him to have thought of it.
Minuses: Heaven help me, I will KILL the man if he did that.
Kenji stared at the paper, his stomach roiling. He had only three theories that were somewhat plausible, and one reeked of paranoia (though he still felt most convinced in his gut of this one--but wasn't that the point of paranoia?); the second, that the letter's delivery was a dare, did not tell him anything about the letter's contents; and the third one was, should he take the letter at face value...
His friend Uriko had a crush on him. And that just didn't--simply did not, under any circumstances--make sense.
It wasn't that he didn't believe a girl could have a crush on him. After all, he'd received four love notes previous to this, forcing him to turn each girl down as gently as possible. He'd botched it the first time, sadly enough, and the girl had been so crushed she'd cried and she still avoided him to this very day. The second girl had taken it better, and so had the third, despite some dejection, but by that point Kenji had been a little upset at how popular he was. Why were so many girls attracted to him, the last guy they should ever want in a relationship? Sure, he dedicated himself to being polite, helpful, and dependable--but he was boring. He made a point of avoiding unnecessary excitement at school because he got enough of it from living with Yugo and working in the W.O.C. So why did so many girls seem to be interested in him?
He'd learned long ago that the best way to learn about another culture was to study its literature, the reason he was an avid reader; and so, with this wisdom, he had entered the shoujo section of the manga store, anxious to learn what views teenage girls held concerning romance.
What he learned had horrified him. Not just for the conspicuous deus ex machinas--these writers seemed to be convinced that two people could go through the nine cantos of hell and emerge unscarred, if only with a gentle nudge of "destiny" or "true love" or that kind of tripe--but, as he was reading the seventh volume and determinedly ignoring the two girls giggling at him and his stack of shoujo manga, he realized that he perfectly fit one of the character types: that of a shy and retiring, handsome (despite being a mole zoanthrope, Kenji was not blind) but not too overly masculine boy who seemed to be a model citizen. The key word being 'seemed', for, as the heroine (often outwardly cheerful and quite perceptive) grew closer to him, another side of the boy was revealed: one darker, more flawed, more human.
And that was terrifying for Kenji. Because--all right, he could see why this sort of thing would appeal to girls: just about anyone would feel a thrill of power at being the only one to know another person's fears and nightmares, to be the keeper of their secrets. To be the one who "fixed" them. And despite the shocking revelations of dark secrets, things always turned out all right in the end. After all, it wasn't like any of these boys were serial killers.
That was exactly the problem: Kenji was a serial killer. Yes, he had committed himself to doing all he could to atone for his crimes, but that did not magically wash the blood from his hands. The thought of anyone poking and prying at his past was enough to make his heart skip a beat. He had turned each girl down because of his past, the constant companion in his life, because he knew he could never be completely honest with them without earning their hatred. And the thought of anyone "fixing" him--that presumed there was something that could be repaired in the first place.
When the fourth letter came, he turned the girl down with an easy conscience, knowing that he was not at all what she was searching for. Perhaps he seemed to be; Kenji had always been adept at maintaining appearances, vainly hoping that the characteristics on his surface would pass through and into his being, like light passing through an eggshell. But the similarities between his life and a shoujo manga ended after the first glance.
And now a fifth letter. He'd seen the pink stationery in his locker and sighed as he flicked the note open and caught the words "caring", "love", "heart", and his eyes flicked down to the signature to find out which girl's ire he might earn today.
His eyes had widened at the scrawled "Uriko". He'd looked up and around, as though expecting an attack, and sure enough, there she was, waving hello and then hesitating when she caught sight of the note. On the spot he'd improvised a pantomime of "oh, darn, I forgot something" with the best apologetic smile he could muster, closed his locker, and fled for his life.
But he knows this only delayed the inevitable. Though he knows there is something, a stirring of affection unsuited for friendship, he cannot admit that to Uriko. Because he loves her, he cannot say it aloud. If they drew too close, he would overburden her with his sins. He has to reject his best friend. And even though it really doesn't make a difference at this point, he can't help but wonder: what made her decide to change their relationship? She isn't like the other girls. She knows very well what he is. He had even attacked her as Bakuryu, making it completely impossible for her to forget his crimes. So why choose him?
Kenji barely focuses on the history lesson; notes on the rapid modernization of the Meiji era are interspersed with jottings of polite refusals, ways to soften the rejection, even a half-baked scheme to set Uriko up with another boy (crossed out after Kenji hesitates to write down the name of an actual classmate who would be good for the cheerful optimist). It is a long class period, and an even longer walk to the cafeteria for lunch after Kenji realizes that he has no plausible excuses for skipping; his lack of club activities is the one major flaw in his "model student" appearance. When they meet each other just outside of the meal line, he smiles at Uriko easily--or at least his lips turn up swiftly--and prays she will laugh at him for taking the note seriously. "Let's get out of here," she tells him instead.
They both leave the cafeteria, lunches in hand, and wander through the hallways. They chat and smile and laugh until finally she leads him into an empty stairwell and says,
"You don't have to be so nervous. I just want to know if you feel the same."
Which is why Kenji 'just' wishes Kohryu would break into his school to try killing him again, because at least it would provide ample distraction. But instead he swallows down the last of his milk and sighs, wondering what betrayed his agitation. "It's got nothing to do with you," he says, forcing himself to use a colloquial tone--he knows he often speaks in a distant, formal voice when upset, and that is the worst way he could talk to Uriko right now. "I really do like you," and those words are all he is willing to say on the dangerous subject of affection. "But I'm just not...suited...for that kind of relationship." With any other girl, he would say 'at the moment', and give her the excuse of being too busy with studying and extracurricular activities; it is an easy stock excuse. But even if Uriko hates him for rejecting her, they will likely always be a part of each other's lives, because of the WOC and the closeness of their adopted siblings. He needs to tell her the truth.
Uriko looks at him, her eyebrow rising. "'Not suited'? Woah...sorry," she murmurs, her eyes widening, "I, uh...I knocked on the 'closet' a little hard, didn't I?"
The unexpected mention of closets creates a moment of silent confusion as he deciphers her meaning. "I'm not gay, Uriko."
She blinks a few times before tilting her head at him questioningly. "Then what's wrong? I mean, if you like girls and all..."
He wonders why she hasn't realized what is wrong yet, and then asks himself once more why someone like Uriko would want someone like him. She is cute and charming enough to pursue any boy she wants...why set her sights so low? He looks around, checking for other students, then leans in and asks her, "you remember what happened when we were fourteen?"
She understands his meaning right in that instant: he sees the confusion cleared away by her comprehension, and the brief burst of sadness that mars her expression before she smiles again. This time her grin is a little softer, a little more hesitant. "So it's about that...I get it now."
Kenji nods. "I am sorry, Uriko. But I just don't think it would work out. Can we...can we still be friends?"
That turns Uriko's smile back to full wattage as she clasps his hands in hers, their arms linking them like a bridge. "Of course, silly. I wouldn't give that up for anything. But...I have a little favor to ask," she says, pulling in close to him.
"Of course," he says, mirroring her smile with his relief.
"I call dibs, all right? So when you are ready, I'm first in line." Her cheeks are a little pink, and the blush only spreads as she pulls away from him, nearly skipping up each stair step in her giddiness. "See ya later, Kenji!" she calls, disappearing around the turn of the staircase.
Kenji waves hesitantly, a little puzzled and sure they've just had a major miscommunication somewhere, somehow. The bell rings and he weaves through a growing crowd of students to his next class.
A good portion of language studies is spent replaying the conversation and transcribing it from memory--and Kenji nearly smacks his head in the middle of class when he finds that there was indeed a misunderstanding. Though he meant that he is not suited for dating by his very nature, though he took care to not term it a momentary state, it seems Uriko still interpreted him as meaning that it is temporary. And by calling 'dibs', Uriko claimed Kenji's first date--or, at least, that is the only way he knows to understand her statement. Which could be problematic, as he never intends to date anyone and risk pulling them into a relationship.
Rather than smacking his head, Kenji settles for making a note on his paper, above his notes (which describe more thoroughly the speech patterns of a modern teenager from Tokyo than they do the grammar of classical Japanese): 'call Uriko after school. BE CLEAR.'
Still, he thinks, she persisted despite his discouragement--there must be something she finds really attractive about him, something that compensates for the darkness of his past.
He wishes he could figure out what it is.