Princesses Don't Cry
By Hayai Akurei
Hana-Kimi © Hisaya Nakajo
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Love makes people weird. It was confusing and frustrating but yet it was still so very wonderful.
From where he stood on the dance floor in the main ballroom of Saint Blossom High, Nakao Senri watched the familiar form of his dark-haired heartthrob from the edge of his vision. As usual, the young man carried himself with a masculine grace that Nakao had come to cherish and also covet. Unfortunately, Nakao wasn't the only victim who was attracted to such a specimen of perfection – judging by the mass numbers of girls clamoring for him to dance with them.
Why, he asked himself, out of all the guys in Osaka High, had he fallen in love with Nanba Minami?
Of course, Minami was by all definitions, extremely attractive, with his silky, dark hair and dark eyes. And while somewhat slight of frame, the senior was rather well built. Many swore it was a curse and a crime to possess such good looks. But apparently it ran in the blood. Nakao had gotten a glimpse of Minami's mother once, and he knew instantly where exactly his beloved had inherited all his good looks.
In short, the RA of his dorm was drop dead gorgeous.
But of course, Nakao wasn't as shallow as to love him only for his looks. But that didn't mean that he couldn't appreciate them.
Absentmindedly, the boy shifted a little in his dress, the pure white fabric hissing about his feet. He himself was as pretty as they came for his particular sex – with perhaps Ashiya as an exception. He knew that and prided himself on it, but unless he somehow managed to magically get the right…parts, Minami would never look in his direction.
The only time he ever would was during the Miss Osaka competition, because only then, Nakao served a purpose. And although the young man knew he was only a means to an end (gaining honor – and points – for the dorm), if it meant making Minami happy, he would do it without question.
Love lacked any plausible logic, he mused, only half watching with a haughty air the several guys at his feet who were asking for a dance. Not one of them really knew that he wasn't a girl.
Should he have been disturbed by that?
Earlier, he had whisked Minami away from the crowd of Saint Blossom girls, but had been practically manhandled as the aggravated senior detached him from his arm and returned to his adoring public.
Although this sort of thing occurred on a regular basis, it hurt.
Love was a beautiful thing, but when said love was unrequited and plainly unwanted, it was bitter.
Time and time again, Nakao attempted to get the man to see just how much he cared for him. But his insistence soon mutated into an unhealthy obsession, and every time Minami distanced himself more and more from the younger student. It was a vicious cycle: Nakao would try and get Minami to pay attention to him, Minami would refuse and leave, which only fueled the boy's determination.
Apparently, love made you do selfish and stupid things too. Since when had he become such a masochist?
Because every time Minami turned and left, some part of his heart broke.
Over the years, Nakao's composure had developed a shield rivaling the strength of thick, tempered steel. It would never show on his face or in his actions just how terrible he felt, but he still felt the sting of rejection and loss as he watched Minami's back recede from sight.
And yet, he couldn't help but want to be closer to him. Every part of his body screamed for some kind of interaction with him. Practically wherever Minami went, Nakao was sure to follow. But he was going to college soon, and had already been given several offers from varying universities.
And that meant that he would soon be left alone. The very thought made the boy shudder.
Gazing down at the boys still trying to vie for his attention, Nakao went over a new possible plan to get Minami to notice him. It was risky and just a little underhanded, but definitely worth a shot.
"Hmm…I think I'll dance with…" He put on his best thinking face as he looked at the half a dozen expectant young men. Brown eyes landed on the kneeling form of one of Dorm One's basketball stars. "Ichihara-kun."
The athlete's face lit up as he bowed graciously, offering the "girl" his arm and cordially leading the way to the dance floor. They stepped into the song easily, sweeping along with the crowd of other students who filled the hall.
Nakao felt his heart ache deeply as he saw Minami and his partner dance by.
He felt like Scarlet O'Hara, trying to make her beloved Ashley jealous. And Minami was certainly fitting into the part well, oblivious and preoccupied. He and Kishinosato Juri waltzed gracefully across the floor, chatting idly, totally oblivious to Nakao's watchful glances.
An unpleasant feeling roiled in the boy's stomach, wanting nothing more than to rip her from Minami's arms and smack that fake smile clean off her face. The memories of her sabotaging his practice – as well as those of the other Osaka boys filling in as girls – didn't help matters either. She was a witch under all that makeup, and Nakao wanted to scream. However, he was in a public place and wasn't about to let his rival emerge triumphant by losing his temper and making a fool of himself.
But it was when Minami placed a small kiss in the girl's blonde hair – earning from her a coquettish giggle – that Nakao felt something slip.
His nerves went cold, numb even. It felt as thought something had just died inside, soon yielding to a bubbling sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"Is something wrong?" Ichihara asked, looking down at his partner worriedly. "Do you not feel well?"
They came to a gradual stop along the outskirts of the ballroom floor and his partner's gaze dropped to the ground.
"I'm sorry, Ichihara-kun," Nakao apologized, happy to hear that his voice wasn't shaking, "I just can't."
"It's all right," he said gently, "I knew there must have been someone else, but it was nice to dance with you while it lasted."
With a gentle nod, Nakao made an elegant curtsy.
"Thank you."
Before his mask had the chance to fall off, Nakao quickly and quietly strode from the dance hall. Upon reaching the bathrooms, he sat down on one of the chairs in the little sitting room and buried his face in his hands.
His shoulders began to shake and soon several teardrops landed on his dress with a soft plip. Once the first fell, the others quickly followed, and Nakao found that he didn't have the strength to keep them back any longer.
Princesses weren't supposed to cry in public, but that didn't mean that they couldn't cry at all.
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Lordy, a Hana-Kimi fanfic? Yup, it's been my latest kick as of late. Can't get enough of it. And if you think about it, Nakao's situation is actually quite tragic. I know he's a bit of a brat and really clingy and annoying but he's in love. Give the kid a break.
I love some of the minor side characters, especially Nakao, Kayashima and Kadoma. They have such personality.
As always, please review! And if possible, constructively. There's nothing like good karma you get from letting people know what you think of their work!