Sakuraba Haruto's Diary
Disclaimer: I don't own Eyeshield 21. If I did, I wouldn't be writing shit like this.
Summary: Sakuraba Haruto used to think that Seijuro Shin was an intimidating thorn on his side. ShinXSakuraba. On going.
A/N: I know, I can't get any lamer with this title. But bear with me, will ya? This is practically so out of my world. I wouldn't normally pair Sakuraba with someone like Shin, who might be better off with an OC girl, but I realize that what with the things floating between them, their past, their non-relationship et cetera, there's just too much that can't be ignored. I also practice writing yaoi once in a while, and am quite well-versed in its conventions, so this shouldn't turn out as hideous.
Chapter I: The Knight in Shining Armor
7 September, Monday
First day of school. First look at the campus. First shock of the year.
Oujo High School tips the scale as the all-time exaggeration of prestige. There are gargoyles on every high wall of the building, flying buttresses made up of fine concrete, stained glass windows and the whole nine yards. To top it all off, there are eerie towers around corners, the type that gives you real chills down the spine, the type you'd typically find in fairy tales. And I don't even believe in fairy tales, not even when I was eight and snotty. Now I'm sixteen, have outgrown the tooth fairy, and am smack in the middle of this architecture wonder with no magic to dispel my own disbelief. I suppose, in many ways, reality really is stranger than fiction.
Students are dressed in designer uniforms with a gothic touch to them, probably to complement the already royal environment. For some reason I'm catching looks I have no intention of attracting. There was this group of girls I passed along the corridors and I think I caught a whiff of giggles waiting to explode just as I disappeared around the turn. I tried to ignore this incident, thinking that classes, and nothing else, are my top priority. But this notion instantly evaporated the moment I stepped in late in the room and everyone decided to act startled and tossed some really sticky stares to my direction. There was a squeal, then another, and a whole string of them that it seemed that everyone's ears would burst.
I just forgot that I AM a pop idol.
I was late for class because there was a shoot I had to attend foremost and there was my agent doing his very best to delay and—I just have this sneaky feeling--exploit me. To his satisfaction, the photo shoot ended with fruitful results. I also forgot, as I was driven to Oujo, that I was still sporting a dash of makeup. Sigh. Sometimes I do feel sorry for breathing.
9 September, Wednesday
I knew it! I had the feeling that while walking idly around the campus, killing time and being utterly dumb, and attempting to dodge all this sickening attention from the female population of the school, I was hugely missing something. I just had it on good source that the American Football tryouts were held yesterday on the field. And yes, they were going to pick the passables from the lot who were tough enough to last the practice match. I'm sure there were plenty who auditioned, and only a handful who made it. Oujo is traditionally an awesome team and would only bother themselves with the best. As it stands, they've probably already filtered the hopefuls.
This is just too bad.
Apart from that, I had an extra difficult time trying to get people off my trail. As a fine, totally useless example, this big-sized girl somehow managed to chuck a bunch of flowers under my desk and the instant others heard about it, I was flooded with letters and boxes whose contents could only be horrible-smelling pink things. Once more I tried to throw myself off the scent by excusing myself to the washroom. That's when I rushed for it to the fire escape. Don't know how long it's going to take before they track me down but I do hope to survive long enough to play just one single game on the field. It's such a mess.
I have to figure out more effective ways to disappear.
11 September, Friday
At last!
I was able to convince the principal to hold a second round of tryouts for me. If all goes according to plan, I'll be occupied for the rest of the season with something other than smiling in front of the camera and striking stupid poses I'd be dead ashamed of afterward. Ah, I could just kiss the principal for making things this easy for me. I don't know what went over me to just breeze in to his office and demand a second chance. For all I know, it's out of his hands to control the team and their system. But I just had to be a part of it! That, and I swear to god I wouldn't ask for anything else.
I don't mean to expect special treatment and the likes. Neither am I aiming for further stardom (under the circumstances, that's hardly going to be my point). I just thought that it would be a waste to lose this opportunity without trying. Later that same afternoon, I received a brief message from the team manager asking me to show up next Monday. They're really giving me a shot! I didn't know I have such good persuading powers; I just know that this is something I've been looking forward to: To be acknowledged for something I'm good at doing.
While all this is better than I hoped, this is not something I want to be known to my manager. Knowing him, and his interests, he'd probably say no right on the money. He's already opposed enough to me attending school, saying that it's partially ruining my career, when all it ever ruins are his chances of milking me. I will, though, even at the cost of obeying him. Because enough is enough. And that is the only wake-up call I've been waiting for.
PS. I found a silly note between the leaves of my notebook this morning. The letter is unsigned but it does say that I am her Knight in Shining Armor. What a royal pain, isn't it, these people forming horrid ideas in their heads… But hell, would I love to be a permanent member of the Oujo White Knights? You bet.
14 September, Monday
I can't be certain how I made it here in one piece. In fact, I don't know whether to laugh or cry at what just went on there.
It was raining. The raindrops even mixed with loads of hails, the winds bordering on insane. There were puddles all over the field, mud caking around my shoes like crazy. It was such a bad time under such harsh conditions. There were the senior members of the club and another one who's in the same year as me. I had assumed this person has broken into the ranks of the officers even as a freshman, possibly out of sheer talent.
At any rate, they had to push through with the audition at the behest of the principal, who reassured me of my request's immediate fulfillment. I was practically the ONLY ONE there for the tryout. They claimed to have made special arrangements on account of what's already been said and repeated, and the looks on their faces told me that I had better be worth it plain and simple. Otherwise, well, you know… To be honest, I had never had anyone literally glaring at me as though he was ready to pounce on me and make me his dinner. That's the kind of look I received from each of their faces. Quite enough to send me to the infirmary on the spot. Part of it also seemed to appeal to my guiltiness, which at that point was already overwhelming me.
Nevertheless, I slipped forward to state my position and other personal bits of info. Quite a number of them already knew who I am, which in one sense came as no surprise. Again, that was one of those instances when false reputations precede me. They knew me for no other reason than my album was released earlier this year. Some eyebrows were raised. Someone perhaps scoffed. All of them verged on some sneering expression, at which I took a deep breath for the umpteenth time that day. It dawned on me that working my charms doesn't work on people like these.
The actual task itself, with which to measure my skills, was carried over by the starting quarterback. He is a second year by the name of Takami Ichiro, also likely to be the succeeding captain. He flipped all sorts of passes to me through the rain, never faltering in his leisure. At times he was unpredictable; others, just fine. I suppose he is an able player in his own right, but not so much as to have the kind of strong constitution fit for super-stardom. He got there, more than anything, through sheer hard work, something I also intend to do if I can't make up for it with mere physique and raw abilities.
Because I was the only one there for the audition, they were to deliberate over the results on the same day. I'm not going to thrill you any longer: I MADE IT. I made it, and maybe for this alone there's reason to rejoice. I'm just not comfortable yet at all with my social standing with the group. I reckon they all must hate me for forcing them, however indirectly, to stand in the rain for the sole purpose of seeing me receive contrived passes. Ichiro Takami made suggestions along the lines of, "I need his height", but I couldn't make much of it as of now. Most of what was said was out of my earshot, thereby rendering detailed feedbacks impossible. Perhaps they wouldn't even choose me as a first stringer. They just said they would think it—the lineup--over further.
And then, there was that fellow freshman: Seijuro Shin, who, by natural right, belongs to the elite class of the team. His opinion had to be automatically sought for in matters like this, from hereon out and beyond, everything concerns him. He had one thing to say about me, and he said that they're 'not really short on receivers'. Well, yeah, thanks for clearing that up. And if he couldn't get more straightforward than that, I'd go and hitch up with a talking duck. I don't know why it annoys me so. He certainly has nerves. He looked at me the same way one would look at stones he doesn't have much use for. I could see him, from my peripheral vision, as I labored under that storm, eyeing me steadily with a bit of indifferent air about him. One second was all it took for me to realize that he doesn't want me in there, not in this world or in the next. And that if I get in his way, he'd have me to crush like he'd crush anyone who's ever tried to drag him down. It occurred to me then what I found so creepy about those sturdy towers on the grounds of Oujo High School: These towers' peaks cannot be reached, just as Seijuro Shin cannot be touched, let alone hurled down to humility. An enormous gulf has to be bridged in order to just understand what he's made of.
Hence, I found myself face to face with the real Knight in Shining Armor. He doesn't smile, doesn't show emotions on the surface (on second thought, he seems to be capable of contempt), and he's not on a quest for selfish glory. He is a Knight sans his princess. And I wonder what his world is like, how far away it is from here, and if I'd ever be allowed a step in it.
I am not the Knight in Shining Armor. That girl who secretly stuffed the letter in my notebook, whoever she might be, was mistaken. With Shin around, it only begs the question: How could someone like me come to grips with the reality of not being on par with the very best?
Everything is just so muddled.
TBC