Rock, Paper, Scissors
Author: Pixelated Optimism
Did Ryoma-kun, or even Kintarou-kun consider doing stuff together like . . . moaning and grunting and ragged breathing?
Moan.
"K-Koshimae"
"Hmmm?"
"I-I-Itai"
"Itai?"
"S-S-Stop it"
"Yada"
"B-B-But"
"I'm doing it gently"
"K-Koshimae!"
Gasp.
"W-Wait a sec-"
Grunt.
"Itai!"
Huff.
"Bear it"
Whimper.
"N-Not t-that p-please"
Chuckle.
"Eh?"
Ragged . . . breathing?
She literally died.
She stood frozen on her spot, gripping her box of takoyaki and hanging on to the bag where she dumped all of Tooyama Kintarou's manga collection. Sparks and excitement and giddying happiness on the thought of a wonderful afternoon with Ryoma-kun and Kintarou-kun suddenly evaporated on her chest, leaving her in the not so pretty realm of painful curiosity.
Suddenly, as if possessed by the keen accuracy of picking up the minuteness of details, she felt a solitary sweat trickle down her left temple, momentarily stopping at her cheek, before proceeding down to her chin. It was cold, but the trail it left on her sensitive skin was scorching hot and . . .she wanted to wipe it off, really, because it sent things swirling on her stomach and everywhere but . . . but her arms felt numb and stupid and senseless. A lump blocked her throat, leaving her gasping for air and giddy and it became too unbearable that she was forced to gulp it all down. The act seemed to shatter the very still silence around her, and for a moment she was afraid she might get caught eavesdropping outside Ryuuzaki Sakuno's room.
Her very own room.
With Ryoma-kun inside.
Ryoma-kun and Kintarou-kun.
Inside.
Together.
Alone.
She breathed silently and took a step forward, dazed as to how she managed to move her leg. Reluctantly, she tipped her head towards the door and cursed herself as she pressed her right ear at the surface, hoping to amplify the heathen noises inside.
She knew she shouldn't be doing it, that she should barge in, that their cries where more than enough to suggest what was happening, yet stupidity and innocence still chased off her rationality. Suppose one might think childish and innocent and good and mild-mannered Ryuuzaki Sakuno knew nothing beyond being a really nice sweet girl and Ryoma-kun but she . . . she knew things too, thank you very much. Ever since she convinced herself something had already shifted between her and Ryoma-kun she made it her civic duty to know how boys think, let alone how Ryoma-kun's mind mechanisms work. Whispers from secret conversations of the First Year Trio gave lessons and hints her school teachers never dared to whisper, let alone discuss to their students. Even Momo-chan-senpai and Tomo-chan, the great perverts, dropped her suggestions. They always said she was way too cute and way too innocent and she'll never find a way with boys and that liking someone as cold as Echizen Ryoma would take a lot of effort.
So she took all of their jeers and jests and jaunts and followed their suit, even though they were a bunch of preposterous ideas.
"M-Mou, Koshimae"
Smirk.
"Hurt?"
Cry.
"If we stop it-"
Sigh.
"It would spoil the fun"
Shuffle.
"But I'm hurting real bad, you know!"
Murmur.
"Yada"
She wasn't foreign to those things. Somehow, that little part of her did not completely taken for granted that small curiosity every time Kintarou-kun brought those mangas Koharu-senpai said were for the sake of their edification. But the thought was always shrugged off. Ryoma-kun was far better than alienated stuff.
Did Ryoma-kun, or even Kintarou-kun consider doing stuff together like . . . moaning and grunting and ragged breathing?
She learned what those secret messages her senpais always hid behind their sick perverted smiles. Awareness kicked in, and shame crept along with it. Those sheets they always spoke of, sheets belonging to one ochibi, sheets he always hid before anyone could see it, sheets that were witnesses to those spoiled parts of his brain where someone was an active participant. For weeks thereafter she'd hide and immerse herself with whatever girly things Tomo-chan planned or in tennis until she got so sick with it.
Ryoma-kun is different. So is Kintarou-kun.
She takes care of them, makes them treats, gives them special bentos, supports all their matches.
They were different.
She knew Ryoma-kun and Kintarou-kun looked at her just the same. But they never communicated verbally about it. Every time they were together all they did was play tennis against each other, do group readings, wolf down parfaits, beat some tennis freak down and eat takoyakis. Talking about relationships are garbs of those who are bored. They always had tennis to distract them. They never thought about silly stuff Kintarou-kun's mangas always depicted.
Squeak.
"Sakuno-chan"
Irritated sigh.
"Are you thinking—?"
Jittered breaths.
"She—She's —"
Muffled silence.
"Shhh"
Rustle.
"Koshimae"
She may be dense, but she knew there was a possibility.
She felt her knees slowly betraying her balance against gravity as images swam on her very thoughts, the very same images that haunted that small part of her brain when suspicion first ran havoc inside her; of the rustle of sheets, of ruffled hairs, blushing cheeks, closed eyes, napes, collarbones, their . . .their arms and . . . a tangle of whimpers and moans and feather-light kisses with mingled breaths and skin and . . .parted legs and hands running down and ruffled shirts and partially opened clothing and . . .legs and . . .and how they hungrily wolfed it all down with those nasty cat-eyes of his and his ever smirking mouth and his pixie face and his bright eyes. Revulsion boiled inside her as realizations kicked her shocked senseless brain to life.
They were breaking their unspoken code.
No, she knew he'd broken it a long time ago. She knew they were kind of . . . together and Ryoma-kun wasn't the kind of guy who'd talk things like relationships and stuff. She didn't breathe a word about it because she wasn't much of a talker and she doubted what was between them. But she knew, nonetheless. She knew there was something binding Ryoma-kun and Kintarou-kun together, more than friendship, or tennis and passion and takoyakis and parfaits or her bentos. She knew that Ryoma-kun marked him down as his and his alone. Who was she to intervene? She was just an irregular somebody, an in-between. True, Ryoma-kun may have liked her and her bentos, liked her support and her presence, liked her as a girlfriend. But that's it. She was a dear friend. Just.
They may be friends. But between their worlds she held no place.
Ryoma-kun and Kintarou-kun . . . together.
She felt herself biting her lip. A sting made her stop as the taste of blood registered on her mouth.
They are always head-on.
They are bound for greatness and they are unstoppable and their potentials are as boundless as the sky. They are driven by a common thing and they knew whenever and whatever they do at the end of the day they'll meet at the same spot.
Together.
And she was always the one following them, a puppy chasing approval and attention. Clueless and lost.
She stepped back and tried to repress the tears welling on her eyes. Turning her heels she cradled her box of takoyaki and slowly shuffled for the stairs.
"Sakuno-chan!"
She jumped and turned around as a flash of red and a tight hug draped all over her. Giggling, Tooyama Kintarou leaned away and peered at her as she watched Echizen Ryoma emerge from her room, yawning.
His giggle faltered.
"Mou, Sakuno-chan, why are you crying?!"
She brushed off the wetness in her eyes with the back of her hand.
"I-I'm not"
"You're crying?"
Ryoma-kun walked towards her, thumbing a tear off her cheek, concern registering on his smooth face.
"I-I told you I'm not" she stammered, waving them both off.
"Mou, why are you walking away? You're supposed to come inside, you know!" Kintarou-kun interjected.
How could he say that?
"I—I don't want to be a bother"
She could have laughed despite herself. It was a small sentence, but the effect it gave was priceless. Ryoma-kun's face went blank before he squarely looked at her, irritated. Before, when she used to say stuff like this to Ryoma-kun, he'd just shrug and pretty much it made her think he was thinking she was indeed a bother.
"Who said you're a bother, Sakuno-chan?" the red-head wailed "Don't think that way!"
Ryoma-kun furrowed his brows.
"Sakuno, you were never a bother" he breathed.
That was nice, considering Ryoma-kun was an expert in hurting feelings. But there was no point hiding it. She should be completely honest and supportive. She had to be a good friend to the both of them.
"No, I—I'm so sorry"
She had to say it straight.
"I—I eavesdropped" she managed. "I know it was rude of me and I am very sorry, but I do promise that I would keep my mouth shut if that is what the two of you want"
Kintarou-kun leaned at her.
"I . . . I don't understand . . ."
She breathed hard.
"I—the two of you—t-t-together and—"
The red-head giggled.
"Oh, you heard us playing rock paper scissors!"
Wha?
What?
"Koshimae and I are playing rock paper scissors" Kintarou-kun said, as if answering her very thoughts "One who wins get to tug a hair off the looser"
He patted his unruly bushy red hair.
"I always lose. Koshimae's great with it. I felt like he was trying to make me bald"
Gulp.
"Y-Y-You t-two are—are just playing?"
They looked back at her innocently.
"Yeah" answered Ryoma-kun "What else do you think we'd do?"
Blush.
She died.
For a moment she never really cared if Ryoma-kun, or even Kintarou-kun considered doing stuff together like moaning and grunting and ragged breathing. All she cared for that particular time was to disintegrate herself in guilt.
I have to admit that was bloody fun. Oh no kill me, I'm being happy.
Forgive me if I am killing RyoSaku fans, but I assure you I am doing this because I want to get myself killed too.
Sakuno's a great drama queen sometimes, so it's a comic relief to have Ryoma-kun and Kin-chan running round, chasing each other and kissing—err, yeah. I know, shut my hell of a trap up. But you have to admit they look cute together . . .
P.S I posted and deleted this for five times. Sigh.
Grinning in the middle of darkness T(^=^)T
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