Disclaimer: Incontestably not mine.

A/N: Yet another one from As Deep as the Sky that got out of hand (I'm getting a lot of mileage out of these). The idea of that ficlet collection is you put your music play-list on random and have to write a fanfic based on whatever song pops up, but you only have the duration of that song in which to write it. Since I didn't follow the rules and spent far longer than just three minutes on this one, it gets its own space to breathe.

Stuck on You

© Scribbler, September 2008.

Then in a frozen bar
I claimed I didn't care for you
But your verse got trapped inside my head
Over and over again

-- From Stuck on You by Paramore

Haga was at the end of his rope and considering just turning it into a noose to save time and effort. Defeated by everyone and their kid brother, dumped on by the media, and forgotten by the world despite his duelling credentials, he had sunk into a melancholy usually reserved for middle-aged divorced men and bitter women who frequented seedy bars. Since Haga wasn't old enough to drink, he drowned his sorrows in smoothies at the mall, where he tried to forget all the crappy things that'd happened to him and convince people he really was the Japanese Duel Monsters Champion.

"Nah," people would reply, either laughing or scorning him. "That's Yuugi Mutou."

To which Haga would gnash his teeth and spit that Yuugi freaking Mutou had never been crowned Japanese Champion. World Champion, yes. And Champion of Battle City. And the Kaiba Corp Grand Prix … look, the point was he'd won a lot of stuff, but he hadn't even qualified for the Japanese Tournament. That was Haga's crowning glory.

"Whatever, dude."

It was the most frustrating answer of them all, because it implied either disbelief ("I am Japanese Champion, you ignorant cretins!") or indifference ("Listen to me when I'm talking to you!"), as though Haga's achievements were nothing compared to all that Yuugi Mutou had done. And if it wasn't Yuugi Mutou they brought up, it was Seto Kaiba, or Katsuya Jounouchi, or Leon Von Schroeder, or any of the other recent high-flying media darlings.

But never Insector Haga. He was the country's representative, and he'd earned his title fair and square, but apparently national pride didn't extend to him.

They couldn't have … nah. No way. Nobody was in America except Ryuzaki and Mutou's crowd, and none of them would squeal on what happened.

Still, Haga stared miserably into his strawberry and maple smoothie and wondered whether this was that karma thing so many people bleated about. Sure, he'd done some stuff he wasn't proud of, and yeah, so he'd gotten down on his knees and begged to join Doma, but that was only because he'd been driven to it. He got no respect, even when he didn't cheat, and was only after what he was owed. Could anybody blame a guy for bending the rules a little to make sure he wasn't disrespected?

Apparently yes, because since his stunt on the ferry to Duellist Kingdom, he'd been the target for the bowels of every karmic pigeon in the known universe – and they all had horrific accuracy.

His smoothie was puke-inducingly sweet, but he slurped mercilessly at it through a straw. He was in his usual seat, perched on one of the neon pink round stools along the edge of the smoothie bar, just to the left of the mixers with the humanoid spoon mascot on top. Haga wanted to smash the stupid cheerful thing every time he saw it.

"One, um … ooh, I don't know. I'll try a raspberry and mint smoothie, please. I think I have the exact change. Here you go. Thank you."

Haga blinked. Someone had sat down beside him. Nobody ever sat beside him. The regulars here thought he was a crackpot, but he didn't cause any trouble so the proprietors couldn't ban him from coming in. Obviously this customer didn't know his reputation.

Or maybe not.

"Don't I know you from somewhere?"

"Me?"

"Yes. I'm certain I know your face." The girl smiled, embarrassed. "I'm sorry; you must think I'm incredibly rude. You seem very familiar, but I'm sure I've never met you before."

"Maybe we went to school together," Haga said morosely. He'd had a bad day and was in no mood to be told once again that he wasn't who he said he was. Even Ryuzaki had deserted him these days, unable to take the sheer desperate depths to which Haga had sunk while trying to claw back some street-cred. Ryuzaki had some harebrained idea that he should start from the bottom again and work his way up, but Haga couldn't stand the thought of going back to being a nobody and accepting that was what he now was.

"No, I'm not from around here. Hey, I know! You were on television. Insector Haga! You're the Japanese Duel Monsters Champion, aren't you?"

Haga gaped. "Uh." Great. Someone finally gave him the recognition he deserves and he did his best impression of a Neanderthal. "Uh, yeah. I am."

"You're the youngest ever Champion, too." She flushed slightly. "I'm not being a rabid fangirl or anything. I just watch a lot of Duel Monsters on TV. My brother plays, you see, and I've been trying to learn all the rules so I know what I'm seeing when I watch him. Plus, it's still a real novelty that I can watch television without it being blurry."

Haga didn't understand what she was babbling about, but what he did catch he liked.

"I saw a repeat of your match against Dinosaur Ryuzaki on the Industrial Illusions Channel. You were really good."

He sat straighter and said indignantly, "I still am!"

"I'm sorry." She bowed her head at him. "I just keep being rude to you. I'm sure you didn't even want anyone talking to you in the first place. I was just waiting for my brother to meet me and you looked so lonely … but I was being disrespectful. I'm sorry. I'll leave." She got up to go.

"No!" Haga yelped, and then forced his voice back to a lower pitch. "Uh, no. It's okay. You can stay."

She sat back down.

He shifted uncomfortably, his reserves of smalltalk drier than a desert in a drought. Only Ryuzaki had ever been able to stomach his company for more than five minutes, and girls usually took one look at his glasses and dorky hair and turned the other way. As a child Haga had remedied this by finding the creepiest, crawliest insects he could and putting them down the backs of their dresses, thereby starting his obsession with bugs. Now, however, he was at a loss for what to do next. And the girl kept smiling at him, which was a novelty. Was he supposed to smile back? Should he offer to buy her a smoothie? No, wait, she already had one, and she hadn't touched it yet. What was he supposed to say?

"So, uh, you know my name. What's yours?"

Her smile wrinkled her nose a little. Haga wondered why that level of detail ever registered with him. She wasn't a bug or a duellist, after all. "I'm Shizuka Kawai. I'm pleased to meet you, Insector Haga."

"Just … just Haga will do."

"All right." She stuck out her hand. "Then I'm just Shizuka."

Argh! She expected him to touch her? His palms were embarrassingly sweaty. He frowned. He'd never cared about sweaty palms before. Damp fingers were better for picking up winged insects without tearing their delicate gossamer. If anything, they were a good thing, but right now he wanted nothing more than to wipe them off on his pants without it looking like he was committing indecent acts in front of a girl he'd just met.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Haga," she prompted.

"Uh, likewise, I'm sure." Still, he didn't take her hand.

She frowned slightly, and then her expression cleared as though she'd suddenly remembered a piece of good advice. She grabbed his hand and enthusiastically pumped it up and down. Haga yelped, nearly falling out of his seat. His glasses slipped down his nose. For a second he thought she was laughing at him, but then he realised she was giggling in that way some girls did just because they were happy.

He stared at her. Nobody ever giggled like that with him around. He was the social equivalent of a fart in a spacesuit – unwanted, uninvited, and everyone was desperate to get out of there the moment he turned up.

She turned away and took a sip of her smoothie. "This is really good. I've never been to this place before."

"Uh …"

"They must have smoothie bars in Tokyo, but I've never been to one. My mom is usually so overprotective. It was a miracle she let me come to Domino on my own, but as long as my big brother promised to meet me she allowed it. They both mollycoddle me too much. my brother never tells me anything about his life unless I badger him, and even then I have to figure out a lot on my own."

"Uh …"

"Are you all right?" she asked with concern.

Haga boggled. "I'm, uh, fine." He flushed scarlet at her expression – someone actually cared if he was all right? – and hastily turned back to his own smoothie. However, it was empty. He waved for the server to come over, which usually took ages because they liked to pretend he wasn't there. This time, however, Shizuka called and the guy behind the counter came running, boggling just as much when he realised she'd summoned him on Haga's behalf.

"You're with him?" the guy asked incredulously. "This guy? Seriously?"

"Sure. And can I have another one of these raspberry and mints, please? They're to die for."

Haga wondered whether he should pinch himself. He had to be dreaming. Nothing this good ever happened to him.

When it arrived, Shizuka pushed his smoothie towards him with a radiant smile.

Maybe, Haga thought, he wasn't quite at the end of his rope just yet.

Fin.