Perhaps all people struggle with stung pride and hurt feelings and struggle with the thing called love and turn into a monster while at it... and...
In his heart, wind settles deep in a heaping pile of cold.
Maybe I'm not the only one who feels these.
.
It happened-
A few years before he met Hino.
Yunoki Azuma once passed through the football court in late December. A phantom dark in the air from the early morn and already feeling like a ghost; melting with the fog as he swished by with his little Yunoki guards. Hearing sharp sounds of a dull thud, he curiously looked around just like the girls around him.
There stood that... thing.
In the middle of the dew soaked grass, loose socks and wild, mousy brown hair. That thing. Eyes sharp, bright like a predators' and fangs bared in anger at her apparent distress at not being able to goal once more.
His legs trembled.
The first of many times.
The Yunoki guards were only useful at times like these. Within days (despite the intense skepticism and reluctance of the members) he had in his hands that things' bio. Along with a lovely, Photoshop laced picture of said target.
Stalker-ish? Much. Woman-ish? Even more so.
This was madness.
And he was so very high strung.
Name: Katagiri Masami
Age: 16 (August 16th, 1997.)
Occupation: General Ed Student at Seisou. The goalkeeper for the girls' football team.
Affiliations: Katagiri Ichijo, Katagiri Msako , Katsuya Anju. (See page 2, index 5 for background.)
Summary: Average in studies with a Tn social science and lowest in physics. Low attendance with a mere 70%. Has anger management issues apparently, for in a matter of days of the investigation; she had lashed out at a fellow classmate for controversial reasons, apparently it is "normal from her." Very private otherwise.
He was little more than disappointed at the lack of detail.
But that was fine.
He crumbled the useless piece of paper, throwing it away among trash.
There would be encounters to come.
And there were.
Through her siblings, Ichijou and Masako—who, he must mention, were far more of an easy prey than the target itself—there were more chances with that flaming tiger.
But the flaming tiger had fangs. Fangs deep and shapely, digging into soft gums and blood of innocents tinting it pink. The few times he generous enough to stood by the football court and waited for the practice to end and for her to find her present in her locker.
The tiger purposefully ignored them after the first one. (A trinket box with one of those scary pop-up clowns. Hilarious reaction.) He thought it rude. Not so nice, they may be.
Perhaps... that was what triggered him into wildness.
One day he marched straight up to her and offered her a course smile, asking wether she would like to "hang out." She said no, bu it wasn't as forceful as the initial billion times.
He wanted to show dominance and that, was what made the tiger like rabbit bolt away with wary eyes. He had been starting to think that the bio was useless... But it wasn't. So he took it home.
And sometime when Miyabi and him chatted, Azuma was sure she saw it lying in the low table, may be even read it once. Along with the notes he'd made. But didn't say anything for politeness... or disbelief.
But the bio..
It spoke truth.
She really wasn't a tiger
She was a cute little bunny with deep red teary eyes and a fluffy tail.
And Azuma was never the one to back away. He went in.
With more force.
.
"Oi. Baka-bishononen." Azuma cringed at the moniker. "Y'know those girls that hang off of you everyday..." her nose twitched, red from the cold showing even through tan skin. "Who're they?" She looked genuinely curious in him. Or maybe it was the lighting's fault. Sitting in dreary libraries never helped. "Just sayin'." She added quickly, as if to correct herself.
"...are you," He paused. Looking attentively at her short bitten nails scratching at the scar across her nose. "Jealous?"
By then, Azuma was half expecting her to throw a punch at him.
The punch never came.
Instead, she cackled toothily. Her eyes narrow and tearing with the force. And for a moment, he was confused. There was nothingl funny about this situation... So why- Oh yes, she didn't have feelings for him. He forgot.
Somehow, he was more comfortable with that idea now.
His pride dissolving with the cold winds that always seemed to accompany his bunny.
.
Days later, they stopped hurling insults and complaining how cold the damned library was and instead would sneak on the rooftop between classes and share small, barely-there butterfly kisses before the locust trees that left both of them conflicted as fuck.
Azuma didn't know how to feel.
It was like befriending an faraway idol and feeling jealous that this would be gone so-so soon.
.
"The fuck."
Her crudeness was enchanting, to him at least. But it wouldn't do well here, in his house where paper doors could alert anyone, anything, anymoment.
(But they weren't home were they?)
"Fine then. I'll take that as a no. If you don't want my virginity..." he feigned that he was leaving the room. (Highly impossible even if he tried, considering he was only clad in a thin white inner kimono.) "I'll just go give it to someone else."
"NO." A strong hand clutched his sleeve. "I mean, don't, like, I, um- I don't fucking know... But don't just give it up..." Her cheeks flushed with scarlet fever, eyes glassy and wide with panic and disbelief and shock and something soft and undefinable to him.
In between taking her own sleeve and spluttering because he couldn't believe she actually fell for that act-he thought how much of a natural talent she was at seduction.
.
Sweat dripped down on his eyes, the salt was tart on his lips. His heart is pounding and swelling and breaking and why does this feel so good-
What more can be funnier than this?
He had devised that he'd feel nothing. Hollow, like always.
Azuma was, for his own cheer, wrong for once.
He had not fallen in love all the over; he crashed into to it like a drunkard who didn't see the bevy of cows before him.
No one was wounded. Not at all.
Only the ache of his helplessness ate at his chest.
'Power is such a strange thing,' he looked into the bunny's dark woody eyes. So warm and flustered. She would regret it, surely, when the morn came. He knew her that much. But for now... He moved his hips.
"Ha, what a waste" a half-hearted attempt at being mean could probably save his face, "you're no fun at all."
Although the enthusiasm he displayed through his hips spoke in different words.
"Shut up already!" She tugged at his hair. It's dull, a bit sharp, mostly its frustrated. A sadistic little part of him rejoiced.
Power is such a strange thing.
It can make you feel like your heart has been eaten-raw and pumping, full of red hot blood-and spit out.
After that session, Masami dare not mention it. Avoiding him until he cornered her with a harsh glare and words like the little bunny she was. He only took comfort in that a relationship (or what's left of it) still existed between them.
"I don't regret it!" Wide eyes and fangs bared. "I just don't feel comfortable right now... Give me some space for a while yeah?"
So he did.
The next month came with winter breaks and grandmothers hurrying their children to come home. Never his though, Masami's. With a sigh and a reluctant nod, she left him standing on the platform to head to town.
January was boring.
A bit too calm.
After all, storms don't come with breezy kisses.
Azuma clutched her torso tighter as they sped through the roads. Hair tossed up and being messed into what a nightmare would be for him, he had the nerve to agree to ride her bike home. (Correction; Masami's father's bike. She stole it.)
iHe wondered all the Februaries why couples had no sense of surroundings.
Azuma put his cold nose into her neck , "What was that for, asshole?!" He snickered.
He could now understood why.
Spending all day with each other, cutting class and making fun of people don't matter, holding those perpetually cold hands and teasing if she was a vampire...
That was the happiest half of a year for him.
Then Hino Kahoko happened.
Sometimes he thought he could eat Hino Kahoko whole. To her ibig-big-big/i shiny eyes to the tip of her fake-fake-fake piercings. (Is that red hair even real? It doesn't look like it.) Draw upon the walls with her red blood and make jewellery out of her bones and give it to his sort-of-girlfriend. It would look good on her.
The first conflict started when Masami was out on a camp with her fellow club members. For football training, she said, the damned bitches can't even catch a ball here. So he got Kahoko, sorry, Hino to take up the role of his girlfriend in front of his sort-of fiancee. Never mind the irritating noisiest of his friends, it worked just fine.
"Don't you have you love?" She asked. Does making you want to consume someone and control their mind and soul count as love? "I don't." Probably not. The day left him with nothing but the feeling that the shadows that he saw twining in Masami's hair in sunlight... isn't the mark of an angel.
It was the mark of a devil.
(What he - they - felt...
Was it really love?)
Second conflict arose with little to no backing. Somehow, for some reason, Masami asked about Hino in the middle of the date.
Atop their rooftop and a can cold coffee in hand, he wondered how she knew. (Perhaps she was more intelligent than she seemed. But that is more blasphemous than the question itself.)
"Why, are you jealous?" He recalled asking this once before. And he can see the unconscious anger and depression on her eyes, questioning him: What if I want you to be laid upon my chest like an obedient wench, eyes heavy with the scent of me?
Possessiveness suits you.
If only those emotions were real.
.
That scene left him with little more than feeling of guilt, shame and liberation. As if he was doing something bad away from his grandmother's hawkish eyes. Liberation; though he couldn't make out what that was for.. He had a gues.
He was happy he could get under Masami's thick skin. While he was the one that proposed dates and feelings-she had never been the one to initiate or even suggest. Or say yes to them. Vague and ignorant. It was almost as if she "going with it." Never revealing her feelings, never revealing...
She loved him like a stone wall.
It annoyed him.
Always: Football this, my team that, the players this-
He didn't want to be at the mercy of his emotions.
Wasn't it only fair for him to see the depth of her emotions too? See how much... Before she decided to bolt with a part of him that he thought he could give away to her without fear.
Before he gave away something precious.
And so, the day he was supposed to meet Masami - he spent it on Hino Kahoko instead. Masami would know, who he was with. She was smart enough for that.
And through that, he would get his share of feelings. Being poured out like a dame from her stone heart. Only then would he gorge upon that feast, filling his hunger.
But Masami would be left wether she liked it or not.
His grandmother wasn't exactly the benevolent type. It was easier to do what he was told.
He had to go overseas.
There isn't a choice of picking summery air and holding tight on someone's leather jacket.
.
"You're leaving..." Masami clutched at a handful of her hair. They are in front of her house. Someone can easily wake up and see this fiasco. "I told you everything didn't I? I like you. What's this with you being such a little bitch. Just refuse her-"
He spoke, eyes dry. "I don't have a choice."
Silence.
"...You fucking wuss."
Azuma had probably dug his own grave. But what a painful grave it was. Not dark at all. But filled with the thorns of ambrosia.
"You just leave like that!?"
He expected to feel a punch. And he did.
He pushed a on the left side of her chest, as a last defence against her beatings. Thick pounds of the heart push against his palm. Precious. Exotic. Musical. Heartbeat after heartbeat passed like growling streams.
"You're a fucking pussy, y'know that right?" She chucked. Eyes dangerously sharp. "You're just gonna go along with what that bitch says, okay, I get it. What a obedient boy little boy. Aww. Tied to your grandma's apron strings are you?" That ticked something in him. For the next he feels his fist pushing against her cheeks in a steely punch that rang deep into his bones.
"Don't-!"
"Yeah.." She didn't back away. Masami stood up, proud in her smug assessment. Hurt fleeing in those irises he loved. "Why don't you be like to your folks? Put that spunk to some good use...
—EH?!"
He doesn't look back at her. Calmly standing up from the rough pavement to turn an alley.
"Fucking wuss."
The last of her he heard was a trash can being kicked before he entered his car and left.
Some things just aren't meant to be.
.
But I can try—
.
With a heavy heart and head, he enters his grandmothers room and gives the woman a piece of his soul.
"I can't go. I have to finish competitions. Sorry." Wuss. Idiot. Was the sorry necessary? And as expected of her, his grandmother couldn't be less than proper in her response.
And he doesn't hear of Masami. She could be avoiding him on purpose or...
He couldn't say what he felt. Disappointment, loss, the mild urge to go jump in a ditch?
And now... His car waits on the perimeters until his mood is satisfied.
Spring wasn't more or less beautiful than the one in last year. Azuma lifts a delicate hand to touch one of the many roses in the park. Birds chirping, children playing with their mates. Making friends for a bright future.
Suddenly, a breeze flows through the park. And some weak blossoms fall down into the grass. He bends down to pick at them. A shadow falls in his path. Then—
"Oi. Baka-bishonen."
He sees the last person he expected.
"Masa..."