Yelen's uninteresting ramblings: This fic has such a corny and weird-sounding title because it is (very; extremely) loosely based on an awesome song by Jay Chou, whom I love with all my heart. In Chinese, it's called An Hao; it's popularly translated as Secret Signal, and since I don't think I can do a significantly better job, I decided to just use it.

This fic is also very long. I don't know what's wrong with me. It's obvious that many parts are redundant, but I just can't bear to delete them. Sigh. Talk about an overload of sentimentality! (Which is even worse than mere sentimentality.)

Also, this fic is utter bullshit. That's all.

Disclaimer: Yada yada yada. Blah blah blah.

Pairing: RuMit; duh. (RuMitRu? Argh I'm confused!)

Summary: When Mitsui gets dumped, Rukawa tries to pick up the pieces for him. But the way to Mitsui's heart is never easy. RuMit. One-shot.


Secret Signal: A Love Story in SMS

On the surface, everything seemed blatantly normal on that day: the sun was up, the birds were chirping, people were strolling up and down the streets, and Rukawa Kaede had just completed two hundred successive shots and was gearing himself up for even more. The weather was, as always, kind to him: the sun was bathing gently down upon him, its rays not too sharp that they completely scorched his skin, and that was how Rukawa liked his sun: just a little bit, in the right dosage.

As always, Rukawa was practicing his game at one of the meagrely few basketball courts in Kanagawa, which was quite out of the way: it took Rukawa about twenty minutes just to cycle from his house to the court, which, in his opinion, was a serious waste of time, but what could a desperate future NBA star do except to grin and bear it? (Not that Rukawa ever grinned, but you get his point.) And so, after parking his bike by leaning it against a park bench adjacent to the sidelines of the court, he embarked upon his weekly workout and, as per normal, nailed the two hundred successive shots. Sweat was pouring from his body, his hair was almost as wet as it always was when he'd just emerged from the shower, and he was breathing heavily; all good signs. The morning, as usual, wasn't in vain.

Rukawa felt a sense of satisfaction as he flexed his arms in cool-down exercise mode, his trusty Nike basketball lying motionless on the floor, next to the goalpost. Yep, the world was in order: it was going to be just another Saturday morning.

Rukawa stooped down, picked up his Nike water bottle, and took a swig from it. He looked around him: a Starbucks joint right across the street, a video rental store right next to it, a bookstore next to the video rental…oh, who cared. Starbucks seemed to beckon to him just then, and as he thought of how nice a caramel frappuchino would taste when melting in his mouth, he got a strong urge to walk across the street and get himself a lovely cup of Starbucks coffee. Well, why not? He deserved to be rewarded for his hard and brilliant work anyway.

Rukawa stuffed his bottle into his backpack and retrieved the ball. Holding it under one arm, he slung his backpack over his shoulders and advanced towards the American coffee establishment. He wasn't bothered to take his bike; nobody would want it anyway, he reasoned, since it was so old and ratty, with the paint almost completely chipped and in dire need of a new coat.

Rukawa was completely at peace with himself and with the world…so much so that the only reaction he got when he saw Mitsui Hisashi sitting across a woman whom he didn't recognise from Starbucks' display window was a sudden intake of breath and a slight acceleration of the heartbeat. Immediately, Rukawa froze in his tracks. He watched mutely as Mitsui suddenly stood up, his chair toppling over, and slammed his fists on the small round table, sending an empty cup rolling off the table. His companion seemingly did not react; she hardly appeared to move at all and merely sat there with her arms folded across her chest while Mitsui gestured wildly, his face contorted into an expression of pure anger. A few customers in the coffee joint were blatantly staring at them; even from a distance, Rukawa could see their eyes transfixed on the couple, just like his. A few seconds later, and Mitsui's companion stood up too. She began to walk away from Mitsui, who tailed her as she walked out of Starbucks, onto the streets.

"Fucking hell, where do you think you're going?" Mitsui yelled, his voice cracking. "We're not fucking done talking! Fuck! Come back!"

But it was of no use. The woman had already crossed the street, and it was red light. Traffic was pretty heavy; at least, enough to keep Mitsui from pursuing her – whoever she was – any further. The woman never once glanced back at Mitsui, and after a while, he gave up yelling after her too. He turned to the nearest piece of concrete and gave the wall a hefty kick, simultaneously letting out a screeching "fuck!". He glared at all who dared stare at him as people shuffled by, and he was so intent in his rage that he did not notice, at all, the pair of eyes that was trained steadily on him; and after a few more seconds of swearing at the sky, Mitsui shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away from Starbucks…away from Rukawa.

Rukawa had lost all mood for basketball. Methodically, he shoved his basketball into his ball bag, which went into his backpack, and rummaged around the front compartment of his backpack and produced his handphone. He thought a while, and then typed, "Hey are u okay?"

He then sent the message to Mitsui Hisashi. That Saturday morning had just completely ceased to be ordinary.


"Hey are you okay?"

"What the fuck? What did you see?"

"I was outside Starbucks. I saw everything."

"Leave me the fuck alone and keep your fucking mouth shut about it or I'll fucking kill you."

"Okay."


Rukawa didn't mean 'okay', but he had to say 'okay' because other replies, such as "fuck you, you self-centred bastard" and "go to hell and never come back" might just add more oil to Mitsui's flaming fire and turn the older boy against him forever. This was pretty pathetic but as much as Mitsui's violent and ungrateful reply angered Rukawa, he really didn't want push him away, because…

Well, did it matter? That was not the point. The point, however, was this: That fucking ugly bitch at Starbucks made Mitsui-sempai cry, and nobody made Mitsui cry and got away with it as long as Rukawa Kaede were still alive. Rukawa clenched his fists. He wondered if anyone was there for Mitsui right now, and if he could get his hands on that bitch and snap her neck into two. He stared up at his bedroom ceiling, and in his mind's eye, he saw Mitsui's tear-stained face again, turning away from his line of vision and disappearing into the shadows.

Rukawa sighed. How he wished he were at Mitsui's place right now, taking him into his arms and letting Mitsui cry onto his shoulders. Of course, Rukawa didn't expect Mitsui to allow his guard to be lowered to that degree in front of Rukawa, but nobody said that one's wishes had to be rational or realistic; that was why he could only 'wish' and not act. He could just see the scene now if he'd acted: he'd appear on Mitsui's doorstep, Mitsui would open the door, see Rukawa, and immediately slam the door in Rukawa's face. Or: Mitsui would see Rukawa, Rukawa would say, "Hi Sempai, can I come in?", and Mitsui would reply, "Fuck off you asshole" and then slam the door in Rukawa's face. Either way, the conclusion is still the same: Mitsui would personify his violent SMS reply and Rukawa would seriously have to restrain himself from delivering a series of kicks and blows to Mitsui's stubborn and insensitive body.

If only Mitsui were less complicated and more like Sendoh; then Rukawa wouldn't be stuck in this 'I wanna go over but I don't wanna face his wrath' predicament right now. The empty whiteness of his ceiling also offered no escape, not this time, not anymore; whereas he used to be able to fall asleep just by staring blankly at his ceiling, he was now bombarded by so many thoughts that the stark whiteness of the ceiling had lost its hypnotic effect, and all his thoughts led to the exact same place: Mitsui Hisashi.

Rukawa sighed again. Life was beginning to get seriously complicated.


Mitsui Hisashi went home to an empty house. His parents were away at who-the-fuck-knew-and-cared where, and he was in no mood for company right now. He trudged lifelessly to his room, dumped himself on his bed, and stared blankly at the ceiling.

He couldn't believe that Rukawa witnessed the scene. It was humiliating, and that was just putting it mildly. How he wished…oh, who cared. What did it matter? Fuck Rukawa; he was nobody.

Mitsui scowled at the ceiling as he felt another catch in his throat, and a new wave of tears attacked. Angrily, he jammed his fist into his right eye to prevent the tears from trickling out, but they did anyway. His fist was tear-stained, as were his cheeks, and the wetness of his skin only served to aggravate his anger, humiliation and…yes, that last thing: heart-fucking-break.

Heartbreak. Mitsui never thought that it would happen to him, of all people. Gorgeous people never got dumped and they never knew the meaning of 'heartbreak', or so he fervently and complacently believed, until today, when he was painfully proven wrong.

He hated her and he loved her. Mitsui felt another clench in his chest. How he wished…

Oh, who cared. What did it matter.

It didn't matter.


"Sempai? You feeling better now?"

"Leave me alone Rukawa. I'm not up to talking to anyone."

"It's SMS. You don't have to open your mouth."

"It's not funny, okay? I just got dumped. I'm in no mood to joke."

"I wasn't joking."

"Whatever. Why do you care anyway?"


Because I'm in love with you.

Right, as if Rukawa could say that. It was close to one a.m. and Rukawa could not sleep, which had him momentarily convinced that the Apocalypse had finally arrived. He'd laid on his bed, tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position in which to sleep, but to no avail. Mitsui's face kept coming back to him, haunting him, and Rukawa couldn't stop thinking about him, such that it drove him crazy. Hence, he picked up his phone from his bedside table and sent Mitsui an SMS.

Why do I care anyway? Good question. Besides the fact that I'm in love with him, I really shouldn't. But isn't that the only reason I need to care?

"Does it matter, sempai?"


Did it matter? Of course it did. But why did it matter? Mitsui didn't know. He was surprised to receive that SMS from Rukawa, but he really shouldn't be, considering what a freak the younger boy had always been. Mitsui had contemplated deleting Rukawa's message without replying, but as he continued to stare at his ceiling for the third consecutive hour after he'd made up his mind to go to bed, he realised that he was subconsciously aching for a friendly ear.

He just didn't expect it to be Rukawa's.

Or rather, Rukawa's handphone.

Oh, fuck it. Did it matter, the specifics? No, it didn't. Who cared.

"Duh. Of course it does. You never gave a shit before this. Why now? You pitying me? I don't need your pity you know."


"I don't pity you."

"Then what is it?"

"Concern. Pretty simple concept."

"Don't sass me! I'm not in the mood for your oh-so- witty one-liners either. And hey, I was serious when I said that you're not to let anyone know about what you saw today. Understood?"

"Fine."


The lines were silent for a while. Mitsui seemed to have ran out of things to say; at least, that was what Rukawa chose to think. The possibility of Mitsui not replying because he had nothing to say was less disappointing than that of him not replying because he didn't want to.There was a difference.

And so, when Rukawa's handphone finally vibrated again, a smile almost crossed his perpetually-stoic features. Rukawa let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding, and eagerly read the message:

"Right. I'll see you in school tomorrow. Night."

Well, not quite the thanks he'd expected, but it'd suffice for now. Fingers flying over his keypad, Rukawa replied, "Night, Sempai. Take care."

With that, Rukawa finally went to sleep.


"Sempai. You okay?"

Rukawa again? Mitsui frowned as he glanced at his phone under the table in the middle of his Physics lesson. This kid was so persistent. What was it with him that'd made him all weird all of a sudden? It was barely 12 hours since their late-night SMS exchange; in fact, it was the first period of the day, and already Rukawa was…doing this. Mitsui was tempted to say 'pester', but despite his emotionally-broken state, something in him held him back and told him that Rukawa did not deserve his cold shoulder.

Mitsui pursed his lips. He didn't exactly want to reply, but he didn't want to blow the younger boy off either; he decided to settle for something neutral.

"Yep."

Oh well, Rukawa would just have to make do with that, even though it was really quite a lie. But Mitsui still wasn't in a mood to talk about yesterday, and the mere thought of what happened made his blood boil and his insides contract. Talk about preposterous, really. He never thought that anyone would ever affect him so much, but there you go, it happened to him, and all he could do was to shut up and accept it and move on.

Move on. So much easier said than done. She was the last thing Mitsui thought of before he went to bed, and the first thing on his mind when he woke; he even dreamt of her, together with him in happier times, her lips probing and willing against his. What was it about her? Simple: she was only the most amazing woman he'd ever met; that was all there was to it, really.

Mitsui let out a huge sigh. As he diverted his glance from his handphone and looked back at the teacher, he found the Physics teacher staring at him, his eyes narrowed.

"Mitsui Hisashi. What do you have under your table?"

Great. Just great. Mitsui decided to feign ignorance.

"Nothing, sensei. I was taking down notes."

"Give it to me."

"Give what?" Mitsui innocently replied, his eyes slightly widened for the effect.

The teacher stormed towards Mitsui, thrust out his hand, and, enunciating each word clearly, spat, "Your handphone. Now."

"Oh Jesus," Mitsui muttered. Irritably, Mitsui took his phone out from under his desk, and saw that he had another new message. Casually, he opened it; another one from Rukawa, which read, "Are you sure?"

"Um, can I just reply to this before you take my phone away?" Mitsui asked, looking at his teacher.

Bad move. Without even bothering with a reply, the teacher snatched Mitsui's phone away and stuffed it in his pocket. "Get it back from the principal after school. Now pay attention."

As the teacher walked away, Mitsui stared daggers at his back. Something in him was raging, his fists clenched tight, and the next thing he knew, Mitsui had stood up, his chair colliding against the wall from his forcefulness, making a loud 'thud' sound; he picked up his bag, shoved his pens and notebooks and other academic-related nonsense into his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and sauntered out of class.

His teacher yelled after him, but he couldn't be bothered; he strode off without a backward glance. He'd just make another stupid visit to the principal's office then. After all, Mitsui and the principal his pal were very well-acquainted.


Rukawa was, surprisingly, awake in his Maths class, which was such a miracle that his bespectacled, balding teacher was teaching with extra fervour today. Rukawa almost felt sorry for him…almost, but not quite, and not quite because he was getting agitated that he wasn't receiving a reply from Mitsui. He thought it extremely out of form to be so affected by a simple SMS (or lack thereof), but since it was the truth, why not just acknowledge it? So here it was, the truth: it'd been five whole minutes since he'd sent that last message, and Mitsui wasn't replying. Had Rukawa pissed him off? Was that it? Had Rukawa been too persistent? Maybe he should've just left it at Mitsui's offhand-ish, nonchalant reply of 'yep' after all. But it was so…neutral and cryptic that Rukawa just had to press for more.

Rukawa glanced downwards at his phone again. Still no sign of life. He was beginning to get even more agitated when he looked out of his classroom window and saw Mitsui Hisashi casually walking past his classroom.

Immediately, Rukawa raised his hand.

"Yes, Rukawa?" the teacher said, an edge of excitement to his voice. The poor sod was probably thinking that Rukawa just had a moment of mathematical Eureka and was about to enlighten the class with his explanation of how integration worked; how naïve.

"Toilet."

The teacher's face visibly fell. He adjusted his glasses, and replied dejectedly, "Oh, okay. Come back quickly."

Yeah, whatever. Like a bolt of lightning, Rukawa was out of the door and onto the corridors, where he could see Mitsui's back in plain sight. He quickened his steps, widened his strides, and went after Mitsui.

When he was close enough, he called out, "Sempai."

Mitsui turned around, saw Rukawa's expectant face, and stopped. "Hey. What're you doing here?"

Rukawa shrugged. "Where are you going?"

"Out. Away from here. I can't stand this place. Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"What about you?"

Mitsui snorted. "What does it matter?" he muttered darkly. "Fuck it. Who cares? I'm out of here."

Without waiting for a reply, he turned away and began walking towards the school gate. Rukawa followed him, not giving a shit at all that his bag was still in class. He'd just come back for it later.

"Sempai, wait. I'm coming too."

Mitsui didn't stop, but for whatever it was worth, he slowed down and glanced backwards at Rukawa. "What for?"

"You need company."

Mitsui rolled his eyes and let out an impatient sigh. "Don't you get it? I'm getting away from company by getting out of this stupid hellhole. Could you just leave me alone?"

Rukawa had to admit: Mitsui's words hurt. In fact, as soon as they escaped from his mouth, Rukawa felt them pricking at where it mattered the most: the heart. A million tiny knife pricks to the heart, all at the same time, over and over and over; but it wasn't enough for him to give up.

"No," Rukawa said, flatly. He'd fully caught up now, and he and Mitsui are walking side-by-side, sauntering out of school in broad daylight, and the first period hadn't even ended. Mitsui was almost close enough to touch, and yet, as Rukawa glanced at him from the corner of his eyes and saw his tensed expression, Mitsui felt like he were miles and miles away.

"Okay, whatever, all right?" Mitsui snapped. "Do whatever you want. I don't give a shit either way. Just don't expect me to entertain you."

"I don't," Rukawa retorted. That's my job, you dumb dolt. Why else do you think I'm bothering with you? You obviously need company.

"Fine. Whatever. Suit yourself. See if I care."

Rukawa had to tell himself that Mitsui was just being irritatingly and excessively mean because of what happened yesterday; that was how he miraculously managed to keep his fists balled by his sides, instead of flying into Mitsui's indifferent face. Rukawa didn't bother with a reply, and after that, neither of them spoke.

They walked on in silence. Mitsui's footsteps were slow and measured, and Rukawa had to slacken his pace a few times in order not to be too ahead of the older boy. Rukawa wished that he knew what Mitsui was thinking; if only he could get to that corner of his head, he'd put everything right so that Mitsui could smile and joke and laugh again. This silence that hung in the air between them, like a deafening clap of thunder, made Rukawa shiver from a gust of wind that did not remotely exist.

Still, he didn't say anything. Mitsui would initiate a conversation when he was ready to do so.


One person flooded Mitsui's thoughts: her. He didn't even want to say her name; that was how much it hurt. What he really wanted was to be alone with just his thoughts for company for a while, but chance would have it that Rukawa just had to tag along. Mitsui was still puzzled by Rukawa's sudden interest in his welfare, but in all honesty, he was too damn tired to think about it right now. All he wanted to do was to…mope. Like a moronic junior high school girl, but he didn't care; nobody would when they were in his shoes.

They were in a park. How convenient, Mitsui thought. It was the same park that he'd gone to with her just two weeks ago, to…well, did it matter? Mitsui's memories were jumbled up now, and there was not the slightest semblance to coherence that he could see where his memories were concerned. In fact, Mitsui suddenly changed his mind: he didn't want to think about her anymore. There was really no point; it was over, clear as daylight. Wasn't that what she said in Starbucks yesterday? "It's over between us, Hisashi. And you know me: I don't ever look back."

Fuck you, bitch. But that wasn't what he meant. What he really wanted to say was this: Don't leave me; I can't take it; I don't know what I'd do without you.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," Mitsui said softly. It was only when he sensed Rukawa's eyes on him that he realised he'd spoken out loud.

"Sempai?" Rukawa said, cautiously, his eyes still on Mitsui.

"Sorry," Mitsui answered; he laughed a little, though there was no mirth in the sound he produced. "I was just thinking and…I guess I kinda spoke out loud without knowing it." He shrugged. "I wasn't talking to you, so yeah."

He sat down on a bench, and Rukawa followed suit. Mitsui sighed. If only…

"I'm sorry."

He looked at Rukawa. "For what?"

"What happened."

Mitsui wanted to reply, but as he looked at Rukawa's stoic face, that face which so did not match the words that'd just escaped from his lips, and Mitsui could swear that he just saw a flicker of…something on Rukawa's face, and all of a sudden, Mitsui did not know what to say; he was rendered speechless.

But perhaps, maybe there was no need for words after all.


When Rukawa's lips left Mitsui's, he could swear that his heart had stopped beating. He couldn't believe that he'd just kissed Mitsui Hisashi, and it was the best kiss of his life, even if Mitsui didn't exactly kiss him back. It was unplanned, really; Rukawa wasn't trying to take advantage of the older boy's moment of vulnerability. It just…happened, and so naturally, too, his instincts leading the way, as if that was precisely what he was meant to do at that very moment.

"What's going on, Rukawa?" Mitsui said, his eyes trained steadily on Rukawa's, his voice low, with an edge of confusion to it. "Why are you doing this?"

"I love you," Rukawa replied, simply. "That's all."

Mitsui's eyes never left Rukawa's face, and Rukawa was beginning to squirm under the intensity of Mitsui's scrutiny. Had he made a mistake? He hoped not, but he had to admit: he really didn't know what the hell he was doing…just that it felt completely natural to do it, for whatever that was worth.

"Okay," Mitsui said slowly. "Right. So, I can't deal with this right now. I have too much on my hands. I don't know what the hell's got into you, but…" Mitsui's voice trailed off. He stared at Rukawa some more, as if trying to unravel the mystery that was in front of him, but not knowing where the "start" arrow was. "Forget it, okay? Don't be insane. We can't do this right now."

Surprisingly, Rukawa felt extremely calm as he replied, "I can wait."

"Wait?"

"Yes. For you."

A moment of silence. Then,

"I'll SMS you tonight. I need to go off and think. Or something. Whatever. Just…talk to you later." With that, Mitsui stood up and walked away without a backward glance at Rukawa.

This time, Rukawa simply let him be.


"Hey."

"Hi Sempai. What's up?"

"What's up?! I think you know what's up. What was today about? At the park?"

"Nothing I haven't already said."

"But why?"

"I don't know."

"What the hell do you mean, you DON'T KNOW?!?! You have to know! You're the one who said you loved me!"

"I know but I don't know."

"Goddamn, Rukawa, please, for once in your life, just make sense, okay? I can't take anymore fucking drama."

"I just love you. Do I need a reason for that?"

"Actually, yes. You do. You don't just tell your seniors that you love them, especially when they're guys. Like you. You know?"

"Don't tell me you didn't like the kiss."

"That's quite beside the point. Actually, that's entirely NOT THE FUCKING POINT. Okay? So can you just explain the whole thing to me? I'm really confused."

"Did you like it?"

"What??!?!!??!!?!?"

"It's a simple question, sempai. Did you like it or not?"

"This is fucking insane. I'm going to bed. Good night Rukawa."

"Night, Sempai."


Rukawa was fucking bold; that was for fucking sure. Fancy him asking Mitsui such an audacious question! Jesus Christ, Mitsui could just…kill the guy. Chop him up into little bits and pieces and deep-fry them and feed them to the neighbourhood dogs, because Rukawa Kaede deserved nothing less. For crying out loud, who the hell could take advantage of a guy at his most vulnerable and still have a clear conscience? It was just wrong.

Mitsui pulled his sheets closer to him as he tried, for what must've been the ten millionth time, to go to sleep. The funny thing was, it had been more than three hours since he told Rukawa that he was going to bed. He thought that he would fall asleep pretty quickly, considering how enervated he felt and how onerously tiring his day had been, both physically and emotionally; physically because he had to run to the principal's office before the school gates closed to get back his phone (which was surprisingly fuss-free, probably because the principal was in a hurry to go home) which inspired a 30-minute jog around his estate after that; and emotionally because…well, it was rather obvious, wasn't it? He had to deal with his poor broken heart, and then he had to deal with Rukawa's weirdness. What was the world coming to?

Mitsui closed his eyes. In his mind, he saw her face, looming closer, closer…his lips against hers, that old, familiar feeling that he'd grown to expect; he opened his eyes to smile at her…but instead of her face, he saw Rukawa's instead.

Mitsui's eyes flew open for real, his breath quickening. He laid motionless in bed for a few seconds, his mind blank…and then, a realisation dawned upon him.

He finally had an answer to Rukawa's audacious question that wasn't really so audacious after all.

Not that it made things any easier.


The next morning, when Rukawa finally found his phone buried under a pile of dirty clothes at a corner of his room, he discovered that he had one missed call. His phone was still on vibration mode; that was probably why he didn't hear it ring.

It was Mitsui. He didn't leave a message, but, upon seeing Mitsui's name on the missed-calls list, Rukawa almost smiled anyway.


"You called me?"

"Yeah."

"What for?"

"I need company. Let's do something."

"One-on-one?"

"Okay. Where?"

"My place."

"Fuck, I didn't mean that! I was talking about basketball!"

"So was I. There's a court nearby."

"Oh."

"Bring a ball."

"What's wrong with yours?"

"Lost my pump."

"Jeez. Fine, I'll bring the ball. See you."


"Nearby, huh? Which is exactly why it took us twenty minutes to get here," Mitsui grumbled. "The one near my place is only fifteen minutes away. Thanks a lot, Rukawa."

Rukawa rolled his eyes. "You need the exercise, sempai."

"What?!"

"It's true," Rukawa pointed out, casting a sidelong glance at Mitsui's bent-over body, panting from exhaustion. "Admit it."

Mitsui only managed to shake his head indignantly in reply. Together, they sat down on the court, under the basket, both leaning against goalpost, with Mitsui clutching his basketball between his feet. They were silent for a while.

"Why aren't we playing?" Mitsui suddenly said.

Rukawa shrugged. "You can start anytime you wanna."

To Rukawa's surprise, Mitsui remained seated, and continued to stare blankly/wistfully (Rukawa wasn't quite sure which one it was) at the sky. Mitsui shook his head. "I don't really feel like it. Let's just talk."

"Okay."

And just like that, Rukawa had melted the thin layer of ice surrounding Mitsui's heart, or whatever it was that Rukawa finally, finally, finally had exclusive access to. To Rukawa, this moment was almost surreal, like something directly out of one of his many fantastical day/night dreams involving Mitsui Hisashi…but the fact that it was real and happening right now strangely made it less intense, more…well, real. Perhaps it was the gentle subtlety of the moment, lightly prodding the two of them closer together, that momentarily escaped Rukawa, but even so, Rukawa's surprising sense of serenity that supplanted the usual increased heartbeats and shortness of breath whenever he saw Mitsui around was a sign that Rukawa was ready to follow wherever Mitsui wanted to take him.

If Mitsui wanted to take him places, that was. But hey, a cumbersome detail to sort out later; for now, Rukawa decided to simply enjoy Mitsui's company, and to offer him a listening ear.

"I miss her," Mitsui stated. "No, that's not really true; the fact is, I love her and I'd die for her and right now I feel like I'm dead. She was my entire world. Do you know why that is, Rukawa?"

Rukawa shook his head.

"Me neither," Mitsui said. He laughed darkly, without humour. "I'm such an idiot. I mean, I'm supposed to be Mitsui Hisashi, you know? He who never knows heartbreak, he who never gets dumped, stuff like that. But she came along and left and now I'm…this. You know?"

"Broken?"

Mitsui narrowed his eyes a little, slightly irritated that Rukawa immediately hit the bull's eye. "Yeah, if you insist in putting it that way. Broken. Fuck, what a disgusting, dirty word." Mitsui sighed. "Do you know the feeling, Rukawa? Have you ever felt it before?"

"Might've," Rukawa replied, seemingly non-committing. He didn't really feel like going into it just then.

"Yeah? Tell me about it," Mitsui said, shifting his position so that he was looking directly at Rukawa. "Help me take my mind off things. It might make me feel better to know that someone else went through the same thing too."

"Everyone goes through it, sempai."

"True, but not everyone's good-looking, you know? But you…I think you belong in the same league as me."

Rukawa lifted an eyebrow; a slight action that barely conveyed the tremendous feats his insides were performing, where Mitsui could not see. "Really?"

Now, it was Mitsui's turn to shrug. "Easily. But you should know that already, considering your insane heart-throb status in school and everything. Don't you?"

Yes, but it's different when it's coming from you, sempai. Aloud Rukawa said, "Perhaps."

"So tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Your own experiences in the heartbreak department," Mitsui said impatiently. "I need to know that I'm not alone, or it'd just be too fucking retarded. I mean, I could always find someone else, but right now, I don't really feel like it." Mitsui stopped, realising that he was about to ramble, and steered the conversation back on the track that he wanted. "So tell me. Now."

"There's nothing to tell," Rukawa replied evasively. Frankly, he was getting just a little bit irritated. If Mitsui wanted to rip Rukawa's heart from his ribcage, he could just say so and stop beating around the bush. It was already obvious that Rukawa's affections (what a mild, useless word) for Mitsui was not mutual, and despite himself, a nauseous feeling gnawed its way to Rukawa's chest where it tore off Rukawa's cherished wall of defence and exposed his already-wearing thin patience for the insidious acid in the air to distort. As much as Rukawa wanted to be there, here, everywhere, for Mitsui, he found it almost, if not completely, impossible to ignore the part of him that longed for Mitsui to feel the same, and the fact that Mitsui didn't was enough to erode the sense of peace Rukawa felt only minutes earlier.

Funny how fickle the human heart is.

"Come on, Rukawa. Don't be a spoilt sport. I've already exposed my bloody soul to you; it's only fair that you do the same." Mitsui gently poked Rukawa in the sides. "Just tell me about the time you felt like one single person could make or break your happiness. When was it?"

Rukawa looked at Mitsui's expectant face, felt his presence next to him, close enough to touch, heard his words, I could always find someone else, but right now, I don't really feel like it in his head, saw all his memories of Mitsui, real and imagined, crashing and sweeping into his mind like an unstoppable tidal wave, replayed the Starbucks scene once more in his mind, felt his lips on Mitsui's again…and then, his voice flat, he said, "Now."

Mitsui blinked. "Come again?"

"Now. Now, sempai. This moment." You have absolutely no idea how much you're killing me.

"Oh," Mitsui said. He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, I forgot. I mean…" his voice trailed off; he looked at Rukawa uncertainly, trying to gauge the younger boy's reaction. "I kinda forgot about…I was just so wrapped up in myself, you know?"

"You never answered my question."

"What question?"

"Did you like the kiss?"

Mitsui turned away. "Could we please not talk about that?"

"Isn't that why we're here?"

"No, it's not," Mitsui snapped. "We're here because I thought you cared enough about me to pay attention to me and not to yourself. I needed someone to talk to; I thought you were the best person for it." Mitsui snorted. "I guess I was wrong. But of course. You're Rukawa Kaede. They don't call you an Ice Prince for nothing. I guess I really am fucking stupid."

Rukawa felt like he'd been slapped, but instead of recoiling from it, his face hardened. "Fuck you," he spat, standing up. Rukawa started to hurl a string of obscenities at Mitsui, but on second thoughts, he decided against it. Instead, he merely turned away from Mitsui, who remained seated on the ground, and walked away.

Rukawa half-expected, half-wished that Mitsui would call out to him, beg him to stop, or at least ask him to turn back…but Mitsui never did. Moments later, Rukawa heard the sound of a basketball hitting against concrete, its hollow bounce louder and emptier than usual. Reluctantly, he listened to it, listened to Mitsui's footsteps, until he could hear no more.


Rukawa didn't know what hurt more: that Mitsui momentarily forgot about Rukawa's feelings for him, or that Mitsui accused Rukawa of being cold. What a wholly ludicrous charge, really, after all the SMSes Rukawa had stupidly wasted on Mitsui, his futile attempts at showing the older boy that he cared, so desperately, for him. But if Mitsui wanted Rukawa to be the Ice Prince, then by fuck, Rukawa would certainly enact the part, no sweat. After all, it was so much easier not giving a shit than to constantly preoccupy oneself with worried thoughts of the welfare of another person, who turned out to be completely unworthy.

That was it, then. No more SMSes. For Rukawa, the line was shut.


Two weeks had passed since the incident at the basketball court. Mitsui was still the same.

Except this one thing…


Rukawa was sleeping peacefully in his Biology class when he was suddenly awaken by a vibration in his pocket. Swearing mentally, with his eyes still closed, he groped around his pocket and fished out his handphone. He opened his eyes slightly and squinted at the small screen of his phone. New message – well, duh. Whoever it was from, that person had better pay for waking him up from his precious slumber.

He opened it, and immediately, he sat up. It had already been one month, twenty-four uncomfortable basketball practices, and millions of unsent SMSes. It seemed unbelievable…but there it was, Mitsui's name at the top of his inbox.

"I have to talk to you. Meet me at the rooftop after school. Don't cop out on me."

For a few seconds, Rukawa didn't move; he merely stared at the words on the screen, as if by doing that they would begin to make more sense, but they didn't. Somewhat dazed, Rukawa slipped his phone back into his pocket, murderous thoughts about teaching the annoying bugger who woke him up a lesson all forgotten.

Oh fuck it. I'll just go see what he has to say.

With that, Rukawa put his head back onto the table and went back to sleep.


When Rukawa arrived at the rooftop, Mitsui was already there, his back to Rukawa as he rested against the railing, looking down at the people below. Rukawa walked over to Mitsui and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Oh hey," Mitsui said, and lifted a corner of his mouth in a wry half-smile. "I wasn't sure if I should expect you to show up."

Rukawa shrugged. "I wouldn't if I were you."

Mitsui nodded. "Right," he said, more to himself than to Rukawa. "Okay, let's make this quite quick, all right?"

Rukawa raised an eyebrow. "Suit yourself."

"So the thing is," Mitsui began, a little too loudly, betraying the nervousness that simmered beneath the surface, "I realised that I said some pretty mean things that day which weren't exactly very accurate, and that I wasn't giving you the credit that you deserved. And so, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. Um…yeah. I'm sorry, okay?"

Again, Rukawa shrugged nonchalantly. "Okay. That all?"

"Well, um," Mitsui said, his voice faltering; he didn't expect Rukawa to be so indifferent and aloof. "I guess so. Do you…were you expecting anything more?"

Another shrug. "I think you know the answer to that."

Eye contact, and its intensity made Mitsui draw in a sharp breath. Mitsui closed his eyes; Rukawa was right. He knew the answer, what Rukawa wanted, better than anyone else, and nobody could ever guess what it was; it was revealed in the secret signals that Rukawa had sent to him, more than a month ago, his feelings traversing through invisible phone lines, until an interference blocked his signals. That interference was Mitsui's obsessive self-involvement which blinded him to what he always had in front of him, and a girl that didn't really matter after all.

Mitsui sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out. Training his eyes on Rukawa's, he replied, "You're right. I don't know why you're right, but you are. And I just…" his voice trailed off. He stared at Rukawa, and then the words didn't work anymore.

But maybe, perhaps no words were needed after all.

Rukawa beat Mitsui to it. Just as Mitsui was about to lean into the younger boy, Rukawa wrapped his arms around Mitsui and kissed him, right on the lips. Instant contact, and Mitsui was falling all over again…

But this time, seeing the look in Rukawa's eyes when they broke apart, listening to Rukawa's breathing, feeling the warmth that lingered from Rukawa's kiss, Mitsui knew that things were completely different this time round.

"Love you too," Rukawa murmured. Seeing Mitsui's furrowed brows, he added, "That was what you wanted to say."

Mitsui laughed. "You know me well," he teased. He took Rukawa's hand in his, and, not giving the slightest fuck to who was watching and what wild guesses they might be making, Mitsui and Rukawa walked hand-in-hand down the staircase, out of the school compound, and into a world of their own that was only complete if the two of them were in it, together.

-end-

January 5, 2005

More ramblings: That was the stupidest and crappiest ending I've ever written. You have the permission to shoot me in the head. (How the hell do you translate 'yong you ni wo de shi jie cai nen wan mei' anyway?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!)