Okay, this fic is yaoi and I've written it a pretty long time ago and
posted it up on the Slam Dunk Babble Club. I'm posting it up here for the
first time. Hehe. ^^;;;; Just a one-shot. ^^
[Humor] [Yaoi] [PG-13] [OOC] [RuHana] [MitKo] [RyoAya]
This fic is dedicated to Katt.
********
The Importance of Being Straight-Forward
By Nagyra
Kaede Rukawa woke up that morning to the regular sound of birds chirping and the sight of sunlight pouring in through his window. He stood up, walked to his bathroom barefoot and began to clean himself.
He washed his face one more time, brushed his teeth, got into his uniform and padded down the soft carpeted stairs of their home to the kitchen. His older brother had left for work already and had conveniently left a small plate of toasted bread and some hot chocolate on the dining table for him.
He munched on his breakfast, drank his hot chocolate, washed the dishes, and then headed to the garage after locking all the doors and turning on the security alarm. He took out his bike, carelessly draped one leg over the seat while he padlocked the gates, then headed off to school.
A few seconds into riding, he fell asleep as he wont to do, crashed into the back of an innocently parked car as he wont to do, blamed the car for not getting out of the way as he wont to do, went on his way as he wont to do, ran over a few people and some unfortunate little animals as he wont to do, arrived in school, stumbled to his classroom and sat on his chair behind his desk as he wont to do, and started to think as he WASN'T wont to do. The same as he wasn't wont to arrive in school this early.
From six in the morning up to this time, he had dedicated himself to following the strict code of the mundane. Monotony. Now, he decided to break that one cardinal code as he sat back and watched all the humdrum from his position--instead of his usual morning, er, anytime activity which was sleeping. A nice little denizen who wasn't committed too much to the tediousness of everyday living.
Why the sudden change? Simple. Today was THE day. The day he'd tell Hanamichi Sakuragi, redhead, basketball sensation and genius--though he'd never actually admit that aloud to ANYONE, and resident loudmouth of Shohoku High how much he liked him.
For three weeks, he had prepared himself for this day--more psychologically than anything else. He had marked this day on his nice little calendar that stood just above his bed beside his window. He had IMAGINED this moment coming every single friggin' minute since he'd decided to make THIS day the most important day out of the 6000 ones he'd been living. [1]
He clenched his fists and pursed his lips. Nothing could stop him now. He'd waited too damn long. Since time immemorial--Really it was just a couple of months but who gives?--he had pinned after the redhead like a dog on a leash. He pursued the object of his fixation under the pretense of being the rival that just wouldn't give. Could he be any more obvious? (Don't answer that!)
But now, he'll be saying it aloud. His blood circulation momentarily froze after the weight of today's mission really sunk in. A good ninety-nine point ninety-nine percent says he'll be going home with a broken heart and a black-eye at best, but there was still that VERY SMALL chance that this could turn out to be the happiest day of his life.
He'll tell him during lunch break. Hanamichi always hung out with that Mito Youhei person and the rest of his "army" on one of those booths at the Chess Plaza. Of course, they never were there to play chess. They just usually hang out and taunt each other, but that wasn't his concern. His main objective was to have a moment with Hanamichi and say it in one breath. Quick and simple. He only hoped that if ever Hanamichi DOES reject him, it'd be swift too. A painless death, if one would say. But rejection never really was painless. A sad "no", a gentle "no", a loud "no", an obnoxious "no", ANY "no", would be very cruel. [2]
But he shook his head. He shouldn't be thinking about this. He'd only discourage himself. Steeling himself, he paid his attention back to his class. And the class after that. And the class after that. And the class after that. And he didn't fall asleep once.
********
Lunch break. This was it. Rukawa took a very deep breath and made his way out the Main Building of Shohoku High and to the outer part of the campus grounds. As expected, Hanamichi and his "army" were lounging about in a group of benches by the Plaza, laughing and slapping each other's heads.
His heart skipped a beat when he saw HIM. He may get his heart broken today, but IF it just works, IF Hanamichi accepts . . . it would be worth EVERYTHING.
Another deep breath. He took his first step forward, and was stopped short by a nagging feeling of hesitation in his chest. He stepped back and turned around. Then again, of course he HAD waited for this day. Why turn back now? He faced Hanamichi again and made his way forward. To be stopped again by that same nagging feeling. He turned and walked away again, only to turn around again.
For a good minute, he'd been walking back and forth and he wouldn't be too surprised if someone thought he was slowly going insane--not that he cared what other people thought. Oh, and there was one of them approaching him now.
Hisashi Mitsui. How wonderful.
"Mitsui," Rukawa said stiffly, nodding his head only very slightly.
Mitsui nodded back at him. "You look . . . agitated."
"I'm fine," Rukawa said quickly, determined to get this show on the road. 'Get rid of him. Get rid of him. Get rid of him,' he thought constantly, darting a glance at Hanamichi and friends.
Mitsui caught the glance and followed it. His eyes lit up, then a wry grin formed on his lips. "What's going on?"
"Nothing," Rukawa said. Why won't the guy just walk off and play Romeo with his Kogure? He NEEDED to get through with this BEFORE he lost his nerve. "Go away." He leveled Mitsui with a very baleful glare.
Mitsui didn't budge. "You look like you're about to do something . . . big. I think I'll stay around and, you know, make sure you're not about to pick a fight with anyone in particular." He raised his eyebrow, crossing his arms.
Rukawa was VERY tempted to pick a fight with SOMEONE at the moment, all right. That someone was standing right in front of him, looking smug and doing a good job at being a snoop. "Go away," he said again.
"Not until you tell me what you're up to. Then I'll turn around and walk away. Just like that. All you have to do is tell me."
"And me."
His day was just getting worse. "Miyagi," he groaned, not wanting to acknowledge but acknowledging nevertheless since, again, this WAS supposed to be a break from the humdrum activities of the mundane little people.
"Someone's up to something," Miyagi said with a small smile. "I've been watching you a while ago. Want to let me know?"
Oh, what the hell. 'Break from monotony. Break from monotony. Break from monotony.' A new mantra in his head had begun and it would perhaps be his motto for the rest of the day. "I'm going to tell Hanamichi that I like him."
Miyagi and Mitsui stared. And stared. And stared some more.
"Excuse me?" Miyagi was the first to speak. "Would you . . . um . . . mind running me in on that again?"
"I-am-going-to-tell-Hanamichi-that-I-like-him," he said as slowly as possible.
"Well then," Mitsui said after a while, still looking a bit shocked, but he also sounded rather thoughtful. Uh-oh.. "That's it?"
Rukawa thought about it. Yeah, that's just about it. "Yes."
Mitsui turned to Miyagi. Miyagi turned to Mitsui. They frowned, then they turned back to Rukawa.
"You're just going to go and tell him?" Miyagi asked.
"Yes."
"No plan or anything?" Mitsui inquired.
"Plan?"
Miyagi frowned. "You're just going over to him and tell him you like him?"
"That IS my intention, as I have repeatedly confirmed. Now, would you move it so I could . . ."
"Well, you can't!" Mitsui said firmly.
"Excuse me?"
"You can't," Miyagi repeated this time.
Rukawa's eyebrows shot upwards. Is it possible? Could it be? "Are you . . . are YOU. . . ."
Mitsui promptly smacked him upside the head. "Idiot! No!" He draped an arm over Rukawa's shoulders, ignoring the glare that was levered at him. "What I meant is, this is GREAT stuff! YOU, Kaede Rukawa, super rookie, Ice King, is about to tell Hanamichi Sakuragi, loudmouth and Younger Brother of King Kong, that you LIKE him! For crying out loud, this is MOMENTOUS! You can't just . . . walk up to him and tell him you like him. Have a little more style."
"Style," Rukawa repeated. His eyes narrowed into slits. "What's wrong with the one I have now?"
Mitsui backed away wisely.
"What Mitsui meant," Miyagi began, stepping forward, "was that you should try something more innovative. You know, get him some flowers maybe, or write him a poem, or sing him a song, or give him a really nice and romantic letter. Those kinds of things."
Rukawa blinked. "You think?"
"We KNOW, Rukawa," Mitsui said, getting his courage back. "Give him some sweets and some stuff to sniff and he'll be falling head over heels."
"I don't think that's how it works."
"Rukawa," Miyagi said, shaking his head. "Say nice things to Hanamichi and he'll love you forever. Trust us. It's going to work."
Rukawa took a deep breath. He didn't have much of a chance with Hanamichi to begin with. If there was ANYTHING that could increase that chance then. . . .
"Where can I get some flowers?"
********
"That's it?"
Mitsui looked at him as if the pitiful little daisies he held in his hand weren't a pathetic excuse for a "bouquet of flowers".
Rukawa stared at the five--no six, there was one wrinkled up and almost broken between two others--still-wet flowers as if they held the solution for Fermat's Last Theorem. He stared at the roots that still stood out messily on each end with bits of soil clinging onto them. He stared at the tiny little droplets of water that dripped from the wet petals. "THAT'S it?" he asked again. [3]
Mitsui glared at him. "Well? You've got no friggin' money to begin with and you did say I should get them within five minutes or I'll be the next ball for basketball practice later. What did you expect? A dozen roses all wrapped up nicely?"
"I expected something that would look decent enough to pass as flowers! Those are a bunch of . . . wilting weeds!"
Mitsui rolled his eyes and thrust his hand out--the one holding the daisies. "Just take it! It's better than nothing!"
Rukawa took a deep breath. Well, Mitsui DID have a point. He reluctantly took the flowers from him and held it as far away from him as possible as if they carried Anthrax. "What do I do now?"
"Do I HAVE to spell it out for you, Rukawa?" Mitsui said exasperatedly. "Give him the damn things! He'll get the idea."
With a deep breath, Rukawa trudged towards Hanamichi and his friends who were still busily making fun of each other by the benches. When he was only a few feet away, Hanamichi looked up and spotted him immediately.
Rukawa froze mid-step.
Hanamichi's eyes narrowed into slits and he approached Rukawa angrily. "Well it's you Fox! What do you want now, eh?"
Rukawa automatically held out his now-wet hand feeling tremendously stupid. 'Kill Mitsui and Miyagi later,' he mentally noted. 'That is if you're still alive after this.'
Hanamichi blinked at the flowers. Then he bent down and eyed them quizzically. "What the hell are those?"
"Er, flowers."
"They look like a bunch of weeds to me."
Rukawa rolled his eyes. He'll definitely kill Mitsui, that is AFTER he tells him 'I told you so.' He held out his hand farther. "Just take them, idiot."
The redhead stood up straight and grabbed Rukawa by the collar in a flash. "What did you just call me, Fox?!"
Before Rukawa knew what he was doing, his 'sarcastic-and-obnoxious mechanism' kicked in. "Idiot," he repeated. "And what does it matter if they're a bunch of weeds or not? I doubt you'd know the difference." He immediately bit on his lip after that, punishing it severely for slipping like that.
"Why you--" Hanamichi raised his fist, but a strangled sound of a whistle made both of them remove their gazes from each other to look at the newcomer.
Bob the Gardener--as he was wont to be called by most of the students--was standing there, a severely dilapidated whistle between his teeth. He was holding what looked to be a small shovel and a battered white sign. "YOU!"
Rukawa blinked and looked at the flowers in his hand. That was when the question that should've popped up in his mind instead of "That's it?" when Mitsui handed him the flowers conveniently came to surface. Just where did Mitsui get the flowers?
Bob the Gardener was marching up towards the two of them in calm but furious strides. He thrust the hand holding the sign forward. It said in bold green letters "Do not pick the flowers."
"I did not care for those flowers just so you hooligans could pluck them out and do with them as you please!" He raised the small shovel threateningly, quickening his approach.
Rukawa would've snapped a witty "Oh, so you're the caretaker? They should change you before all the plants become fertilizer." But, of course, Rukawa was smart enough to know that a very enraged gardener plus a possible weapon for homicide was a bad combination especially when the receiving end of said gardener's wrath was unarmed. Calmly, he plucked Hanamichi's hands from his collar--taking a second to appreciate the feel of touching the redhead--and took off.
********
Rukawa looked down at the face of Mitsui who was, at the moment, all red and blushing--an indication that, indeed, all the blood has practically rushed down to his face.
"Come on, Rukawa! I've suffered enough!" Mitsui argued, trying vainly to free his feet from the monkey bar where Rukawa had oh-so-conveniently threw them over. At the moment, he was dangling upside down in midair and he could feel the stares of other people--people who were concerned, but not enough to face the Ice King in his defense.
Miyagi was hovering around in the corner, keeping his mouth shut after being threatened to share Mitsui's fate.
"Okay," Rukawa said after a while then promptly let go of Mitsui's feet, sending the latter tumbling down on the lush green grass of their school's field.
Mitsui laid down on the grass, trying to catch his breath and letting his blood start circulating properly again. "It wasn't TOO bad!" he argued.
Rukawa was incredulous. "Wasn't TOO bad?! Are you kidding me?! That damn gardener's faster than a cheetah on crack! I had to scale the friggin' fence and run to thank heaven to lose him!"
"You should've just run to the boys' bathroom and lock yourself up in one of the stalls," Miyagi suggested oh-so-helpfully, finally stepping forward.
"He caught me there," Rukawa informed them. "AFTER he kicked all the stall doors open and caught a few boys in . . . uh . . . rather compromising activities. When he was in the stall just beside the one I was hiding in, I dashed out and made a run for it."
Miyagi shivered. "Ew. Who'd want that aging green thumb to catch him taking a piss? Or . . . well . . . er . . .--" He fished for the right word that wasn't scandalizing.
"Defecating," Mitsui supplied from the ground.
Miyagi frowned down at him, surprised.
Mitsui shrugged, face close to losing it's hanging-upside-down-induced color. "Kogure has a wide vocabulary."
"Oh," Miyagi nodded as if it explained everything
Rukawa, meanwhile, was tilting his head to one side looking thoughtful. "Who said they were taking a piss?"
Mitsui and Miyagi blinked. "Eh?"
Rukawa scratched his head. "They WERE in the same stall. Man, I'll never use that stall again. Come to think of it, I'll never look at my two classmates the same way ever again. Though I'd give them some credit. I never think I'd see the day Bob the Gardener would say 'Poppycock!' with that whistle of his between his teeth."
Miyagi and Mitsui blinked once more. Then with identical nods, they said "Oh!" as if that explained everything as well.
********
Rukawa stared at the small crumpled piece of paper in his palm. "What's this?"
"A poem," Miyagi answered simply, crossing his arms. After Mitsui's little blunder with the flowers--or 'weeds' as Rukawa had insisted--Miyagi had decided to take the matter into his own hands. "I wrote it."
Rukawa carefully smoothed the paper into his palm. "You did?" He examined the words and began to read.
"You are the fire that burns--
In my fireplace of love.
You are the evening cloud that floats--
In my sky of love.
You are my own, my own,
Love." [4]
Miyagi looked at him expectantly.
Rukawa looked back at him incredulously. "I can't use this!"
"Why not?"
"Because it sucks!" Rukawa said.
Miyagi glared at him. "Oh, yeah? Well, let's see you try writing poems! I bet the word 'idiot' would appear in it every stinking line!"
Rukawa chose to ignore the implications that pertained to his writing skills--or lack of it, for that matter. "You give Ayako this crap?!"
"No, I have a whole book of crap, er, (Damn you!) love poems for her!" He took out a small notebook from his pocket and started flipping the pages. "Here! I'll read you some of them!"
Rukawa held up his hands. "Spare me the torture."
********
"It's a nice song."
"I can't sing it."
Mitsui rolled his eyes. "Rukawa! Would you swallow your pride for once? If you want Hanamichi that badly, this isn't the time to act all shy!"
Rukawa glared at Mitsui. "I am NOT shy! I just can't sing it!"
"What do you mean you can't sing it?!"
"It's too friggin' high, that's why," Rukawa snapped. "I am NOT Mariah Carey if you haven't noticed. I'll sound like a strangled bird or something," he argued then said sarcastically, "Bet that would really sweep him off his feet, eh?"
"Then sing it an octave lower. And by the way, Celine Dion sang this one."
"Who cares? And no."
"Come on, Rukawa. Lunch time's almost over!"
"No."
"Me and Miyagi could play your second voice."
"Definitely not!"
Mitsui shook his head and let out a long suffering sigh. He looked at Miyagi who was all tied up and hanging from the monkey bar--now dubbed by him as 'The Metal Stick of Torture'--where Mitsui had hung before. "You gonna let him go?"
"No."
Mitsui frowned. "I didn't see any crazy gardeners chasing after you. What could be worse than that?"
"Don't ask."
Mitsui didn't. Instead, he asked, "Wanna try something by Britney Spears?"
********
"Rukawa!" Mitsui shouted as he hung upside down with Miyagi right beside him. "It was a JOKE!"
"I'm sorry, but I seem to have lost my sense of humor today," Rukawa said, not sounding sorry at all. He looked at his watch.
"It's over," he said with a sigh. Lunch was going to end in less than five minutes and they were all out of ideas. He seemed to have lost his nerve as well as he watched the other students return to the Main Building for their classes.
He reached forward and undid the knots that held Miyagi and Mitsui's feet in place. The two fell into an unceremonious heap on the ground.
"No it's not," Miyagi said firmly, face still a little flushed from his experience with 'The Metal Stick of Torture'. He lay on the ground with Mitsui, breathing hard.
"It is."
"It's not," Mitsui argued. "I didn't suffer two rounds with the damn Metal Stick of Torture just to quit now! We'll send him a letter in the middle of class."
"Yeah, that ought to do it," Miyagi agreed.
Rukawa shrugged. It couldn't get any worse right? "Yeah, sure."
"Well?" Miyagi looked at him expectantly. "Start writing!"
********
Rukawa looked at the blank piece of paper that lay on top of his desk, then at the black pen clutched in his right hand. He'd been doing that for the first half of his class after lunch and still his hand hadn't moved to write on the paper.
With a deep breath, he calmly reminded himself that this WAS for Hanamichi and that he better start writing before he lost his chance altogether. Moving his hand, he positioned his pen and started to scribble down a few lines. With calm and fluid strokes of hiragana and kanji and the occasional katakana, he poured out his heart. Letting all the frustrations of his failed attempts that day appear in his writing, making him sound rather desperate and passionate at the same time. Half-way through the paper, he paused and re-read what he had written.
It was perhaps a miracle that he didn't mention the word 'idiot' even once and that he had limited the insulting to a minimum. That was probably a good sign. Perhaps this letter idea wasn't too bad after all. . . .
"Rukawa."
Rukawa snapped to attention and found himself staring straight past the thick lenses his English teacher wore and into stern and inquisitive eyes.
His teacher was bent forward--but not too much as he wasn't tall to begin with and Rukawa's height WAS rather higher than average--and he was also looking curiously at the piece of paper on top of Rukawa's desk. "Hmm, what is that?" he asked and snatched the paper away before Rukawa could think.
"Writing letters in the middle of a lesson isn't something I find very pleasant, Rukawa," his teacher said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and making an even closer inspection of the letter. His eyes narrowed, then widened considerably.
Rukawa was desperate and made a grab for it. Unfortunately, his English teacher had been trained by his more than three decades of experience in handling love-sick girl students who'd spend the rest of their time in his class writing love poems and doodling that he easily evaded Rukawa's lunge sending the poor boy toppling onto the floor.
A good number of girls in his class made their way to help him up, but he quickly brought himself back on his feet and on his chair before they could even touch him.
"Oh dear," his teacher commented after finishing with the letter. "I never thought I'd see the day. . . . I knew something was up when you weren't sleeping in my class, I never thought it would be THIS."
All his classmates were leaning forward on their seats already.
Calmly, Rukawa clasped his palms together and prayed for a bolt of lightning to come and strike him--NO, he didn't want to be fried--so rather, he prayed that a bolt of lightning would come and strike his teacher, Mitsui and Miyagi at that moment.
But of course, as was the new 'monotony' that day, bad luck was on his side. No lightning came and he watched the most humiliating moment of his life unfold before his very eyes. His teacher began to read the letter. Or rather, a certain part of it.
"Why do you always make me feel so distraught? I don't know what I want when you're around. Sometimes I want to beat the crap out of you, but most of the time, I just want to hold you and touch you and keep you. . . ."
It took all of Rukawa's strength to keep a straight face and not sink in his chair as all the girls--and perhaps some of the guys, particularly the two boys that Bob the Gardener had 'walked into' a while ago--began to buzz with excitement. Some were whispering to each other, some looked extremely curious, some were giggling, while some were . . . eh, never mind. Bottom line, he was in deep shit.
". . . What does it take to make you realize how much I like you?" His teacher went on, seemingly happy that he could finally get back at Rukawa for sleeping in his class all the time--Rukawa vowed never to sleep in class again, or better yet, he vowed to look for a voodoo witch after this and ask her to put SOMEONE to sleep forever. "You're just too naive, too blind even to see it. Or perhaps I'm just really good at hiding it. But now, it doesn't matter. I know I want you. I know that I like you very much. And, damn it, I think I love you too. Do you get what I'm saying here?"
Now, the squeals were DEFINITELY close to reaching 'deafening level' and for the first time in a long time, Rukawa lost control of his inhibitions and blushed.
********
"Don't worry," Mitsui said, desperately trying to convince Rukawa that everything would be all right--because if he didn't, he was pretty sure he'll have another round with 'The Metal Stick of Torture'.
Miyagi was nodding his assent. "Yes! Come on. It was only in your class. This whole thing's gonna blow over before you could say--"
"Hey, Rukawa, what's this I've been hearing about you liking someone?"
Rukawa wished Miyagi hadn't spoken too soon--more so, Miyagi fervently hoped he hadn't as he wasn't looking forward to another go with 'The Metal Stick of Torture'.
Mito Youhei was standing there, one fine eyebrow raised. He had a small smile on his lips.
"How the hell did you know about it?" Mitsui demanded.
"It's all over the school if you must know," Youhei informed them, crossing his arms. "I overheard a bunch of girls--"
"You see that?!" Rukawa burst out, not minding the odd looks directed at him by people who were milling about the hallway. "Everyone friggin' knows! I shouldn't have listened to you! I should have been straight-forward from the start--"
Youhei took a step back. "Whoa man, you're freaking me out! What the hell did you guys feed him? He's acting all . . . weird."
"I'm frustrated, all right!" Rukawa snapped.
"Quite understandable," Mitsui said, trying to save face from the crowd that had gathered to watch the outburst. "Listen, er, class is over and we have practice later. Why don't you . . . er, try telling him then?"
"It's a he?" Youhei asked, not sounding TOO surprised.
Rukawa glared at him. "Go shoot yourself."
"Oh, I'm not about to let suicide get in the way of something as interesting as THIS," Youhei said, grinning. "Wait until I tell Hanamichi."
Mitsui, Miyagi and Rukawa froze.
Youhei raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"Don't," Miyagi was first to speak up.
Mitsui was shaking his head furiously. "Listen, Youhei. We've never exactly been on good terms, but for my sake, and Miyagi's--and Kogure's as I think he'd be understandably upset if something terrible happened to me--DON'T tell Hanamichi a thing."
Youhei blinked. "But why?" Then his eyes widened as realization dawned. "Oh!"
Miyagi nodded. "Yes. 'Oh!' is right. And you can't tell anyone because if you do, Rukawa's going to be blowing fire and he's going to vent everything on us."
"Why would he do that?"
In one breath, Miyagi related the gist of the day's events to a very attentively listening Youhei. "You understand now?"
Youhei, covered his mouth to keep from laughing before turning to Rukawa as if he needed some kind of confirmation.
Rukawa was, at the moment, clenching his fists. He raised his eyes and they screamed 'Murder!'. With a deep breath, he turned to Miyagi, grabbed him by the neck and shouted, "I'll kill you!"
Youhei made the sign of the cross as he tip-toed away. Yup. That was confirmation enough. "Hey, Makoto!" He shouted as he ran into the nearest classroom. "I owe you a hundred yen." Normally, he wouldn't be too happy shedding out some money, but he was feeling rather generous today. "You're right. He's gay."
********
Rukawa marched into the changing room with two very red players trailing behind him. "This is the worst day of my life! In fact, worst doesn't even begin to describe what happened to me today. No! Worst is an understatement!"
Mitsui and Miyagi turned to each other and took a step back. They seemed to have had enough of a very vocal Rukawa to last them a century. At that moment, Miyagi wished the old Ice King was back.
Rukawa leant on one of the lockers and crossed his arms. He got his breath back and ran a hand through his hair. It was perhaps a trick of the light, but when Mitsui saw the look on the rookie's face, he thought he'd never see anyone so resigned before. Of course, if perhaps this happened to Miyagi, it wouldn't be too much of a big deal. Or maybe even to him. But this was Rukawa, and seeing the normally stoic boy loose all his inhibitions over a matter of failed attempts showed him how much this really meant to the boy.
"You really do like him, don't you?"
Rukawa raised his eyes to meet Mitsui's. Then with a resigned sigh, he nodded.
Miyagi was biting his lip, then he approached Rukawa and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Then tell him. Forget the flowers, or the damn poems," he winced slightly when he said that, "or the song or the letter. I think that look on your face and the truth coming from your very own lips would be more than enough to make him realize how much he really means to you."
Rukawa looked back at the sophomore, then nodded very slightly. A few seconds later, the sound of footsteps leaked through the doors of the changing room, and then a familiar looking redhead burst through, a very serious expression set on his perfectly chiseled face.
Slowly, Miyagi and Mitsui backed away.
Hanamichi stood there and remained silent for a while. And then he spoke. "Youhei said you had something to tell me." His face softened considerably when he said those words.
Rukawa nodded and stood up straight. He took a deep breath and thought about the things he said on the letter, he even thought about Miyagi's hideous poem. Then he dropped them altogether. 'Just tell him,' he thought firmly. "I like you, Hanamichi."
The redhead stared at him, surprise registering only in his eyes. He stood still for a whole minute that felt like forever, before taking a deep breath and letting out that one word that perhaps came out of everyone's lips that day. A monotonous word that perhaps meant everything to Rukawa at that moment. "Oh." And then a small smile.
It was as simple as that. With just two quick strides, Rukawa had Hanamichi in his arms and was kissing him for all he was worth. And it came to no one else's surprise when the redhead returned the kiss with as much fervor.
Mitsui calmly tapped Miyagi on the shoulder. "I think we should leave them alone now. They still have ten minutes before practice officially begins anyway."
Miyagi just nodded dumbly.
********
The moment Mitsui came out of the changing room with Miyagi, he bid his friend good-bye and jogged up the short distance to the gym. Ayako stood at the side with Coach Anzai while Akagi talked with some of the members that had already arrived.
With a confident gait, he walked towards them, reaching out a hand to grab Kogure's arm. "A second, please." And he was pulling him to the side of the gym.
"Hisashi?" Kogure asked, confused as he was dragged to the corner. And with no premonition whatsoever, he was grabbed roughly by the arms, pinned to the wall and was given the most fervent kiss he'd ever received from his lover.
When Mitsui pulled away, Kogure was out of breath.
"I love you," Mitsui said earnestly.
Kogure was still trying to catch his breath but he managed to squeak out a, "I know," and an "I love you too." It also took a moment for the surprise on Kogure's face to completely vanish.
Leaning forward again, Mitsui planted a very soft and very chaste kiss on Kogure's lips. "Well? How was your day?"
"I think the question should be, how was YOURS? You never used to say it so easily before."
"What? The 'I love you' bit?" Mitsui laughed and didn't even need to think about the answer. "I just learned a lesson today."
Kogure raised an eyebrow. "What is that?"
Mitsui planted another feathery soft kiss on Kogure's mouth. "The importance of being straight-forward, love. The importance of being straight-forward."
********
Roughly two hours later, Miyagi walked Ayako home.
"Hey, Aya-chan," Miyagi said, looking thoughtful.
"What is it, Ryota?" Ayako inquired, hugging herself as a cool breeze passed by.
Miyagi automatically removed his jacket and placed it on her shoulders.
"Thanks."
The boy shrugged, blushing a bit. "Anyway, I was wondering--it just seems like I've loved you forever--when did I exactly say it straight out that I did . . . you know, love you?"
Ayako giggled slightly and gave Miyagi a peck on the cheek. "Actually, you said it through a poem during freshmen year. I do hope you stopped writing those things. As much as they're sweet they're just . . . well, TOO sweet for my own tastes."
Miyagi laughed and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Poems? You know it was just a phase. Besides, who needs poems when they could just say it straight out? Me still writing poems. Ha! That's ridiculous."
Ayako just rolled her eyes and playfully punched him in the arm.
Miyagi let out a deep breath and once they passed by the trash bin, he took out one hand from his pocket and threw in his small notebook without a moment's hesitation.
A few blocks away, two tall boys walked home hand-in-hand. Most of the people who saw them were scandalized but such reactions only brought a small smile on one of the boys' faces. A tribute to the pitiful activities of the mundane. And with that small smile, monotony was broken like a crack on ice.
~~~ The End ~~~
[1] I assumed Rukawa's age was sixteen and converted those years to days and the number that came up was 5696. However, this would mean he'd be EXACTLY sixteen so it wouldn't be realistic so I just put it up at a rough estimate (More like rounded off. ^^;) of 6000 days.
[2] This is another assumption. I'm not an SD expert, so I only drew up an image of Hanamichi spending time with his friends in this location during lunch break. I'm not even sure if there IS a Chess Plaza in Shohoku High.
[3] Fermat's Last Theorem is considered the greatest mathematical problem in history. For three hundred years, mathematicians have plagued over the problem until recently when two Japanese men laid down the foundation for the solution. It took more than a hundred pages to prove that x^n + y^n = z^n where n is more than 2 had no solution. ^^ Just wanted to put it in as I was tremendously amused with it. He, he.
[4] Er, this hideous poem was provided by my little brother. He said he heard it somewhere but he couldn't remember so, er, to whoever made my poor little brother listen to this poem: Shame on you! Hehe. ^^
[Humor] [Yaoi] [PG-13] [OOC] [RuHana] [MitKo] [RyoAya]
This fic is dedicated to Katt.
********
The Importance of Being Straight-Forward
By Nagyra
Kaede Rukawa woke up that morning to the regular sound of birds chirping and the sight of sunlight pouring in through his window. He stood up, walked to his bathroom barefoot and began to clean himself.
He washed his face one more time, brushed his teeth, got into his uniform and padded down the soft carpeted stairs of their home to the kitchen. His older brother had left for work already and had conveniently left a small plate of toasted bread and some hot chocolate on the dining table for him.
He munched on his breakfast, drank his hot chocolate, washed the dishes, and then headed to the garage after locking all the doors and turning on the security alarm. He took out his bike, carelessly draped one leg over the seat while he padlocked the gates, then headed off to school.
A few seconds into riding, he fell asleep as he wont to do, crashed into the back of an innocently parked car as he wont to do, blamed the car for not getting out of the way as he wont to do, went on his way as he wont to do, ran over a few people and some unfortunate little animals as he wont to do, arrived in school, stumbled to his classroom and sat on his chair behind his desk as he wont to do, and started to think as he WASN'T wont to do. The same as he wasn't wont to arrive in school this early.
From six in the morning up to this time, he had dedicated himself to following the strict code of the mundane. Monotony. Now, he decided to break that one cardinal code as he sat back and watched all the humdrum from his position--instead of his usual morning, er, anytime activity which was sleeping. A nice little denizen who wasn't committed too much to the tediousness of everyday living.
Why the sudden change? Simple. Today was THE day. The day he'd tell Hanamichi Sakuragi, redhead, basketball sensation and genius--though he'd never actually admit that aloud to ANYONE, and resident loudmouth of Shohoku High how much he liked him.
For three weeks, he had prepared himself for this day--more psychologically than anything else. He had marked this day on his nice little calendar that stood just above his bed beside his window. He had IMAGINED this moment coming every single friggin' minute since he'd decided to make THIS day the most important day out of the 6000 ones he'd been living. [1]
He clenched his fists and pursed his lips. Nothing could stop him now. He'd waited too damn long. Since time immemorial--Really it was just a couple of months but who gives?--he had pinned after the redhead like a dog on a leash. He pursued the object of his fixation under the pretense of being the rival that just wouldn't give. Could he be any more obvious? (Don't answer that!)
But now, he'll be saying it aloud. His blood circulation momentarily froze after the weight of today's mission really sunk in. A good ninety-nine point ninety-nine percent says he'll be going home with a broken heart and a black-eye at best, but there was still that VERY SMALL chance that this could turn out to be the happiest day of his life.
He'll tell him during lunch break. Hanamichi always hung out with that Mito Youhei person and the rest of his "army" on one of those booths at the Chess Plaza. Of course, they never were there to play chess. They just usually hang out and taunt each other, but that wasn't his concern. His main objective was to have a moment with Hanamichi and say it in one breath. Quick and simple. He only hoped that if ever Hanamichi DOES reject him, it'd be swift too. A painless death, if one would say. But rejection never really was painless. A sad "no", a gentle "no", a loud "no", an obnoxious "no", ANY "no", would be very cruel. [2]
But he shook his head. He shouldn't be thinking about this. He'd only discourage himself. Steeling himself, he paid his attention back to his class. And the class after that. And the class after that. And the class after that. And he didn't fall asleep once.
********
Lunch break. This was it. Rukawa took a very deep breath and made his way out the Main Building of Shohoku High and to the outer part of the campus grounds. As expected, Hanamichi and his "army" were lounging about in a group of benches by the Plaza, laughing and slapping each other's heads.
His heart skipped a beat when he saw HIM. He may get his heart broken today, but IF it just works, IF Hanamichi accepts . . . it would be worth EVERYTHING.
Another deep breath. He took his first step forward, and was stopped short by a nagging feeling of hesitation in his chest. He stepped back and turned around. Then again, of course he HAD waited for this day. Why turn back now? He faced Hanamichi again and made his way forward. To be stopped again by that same nagging feeling. He turned and walked away again, only to turn around again.
For a good minute, he'd been walking back and forth and he wouldn't be too surprised if someone thought he was slowly going insane--not that he cared what other people thought. Oh, and there was one of them approaching him now.
Hisashi Mitsui. How wonderful.
"Mitsui," Rukawa said stiffly, nodding his head only very slightly.
Mitsui nodded back at him. "You look . . . agitated."
"I'm fine," Rukawa said quickly, determined to get this show on the road. 'Get rid of him. Get rid of him. Get rid of him,' he thought constantly, darting a glance at Hanamichi and friends.
Mitsui caught the glance and followed it. His eyes lit up, then a wry grin formed on his lips. "What's going on?"
"Nothing," Rukawa said. Why won't the guy just walk off and play Romeo with his Kogure? He NEEDED to get through with this BEFORE he lost his nerve. "Go away." He leveled Mitsui with a very baleful glare.
Mitsui didn't budge. "You look like you're about to do something . . . big. I think I'll stay around and, you know, make sure you're not about to pick a fight with anyone in particular." He raised his eyebrow, crossing his arms.
Rukawa was VERY tempted to pick a fight with SOMEONE at the moment, all right. That someone was standing right in front of him, looking smug and doing a good job at being a snoop. "Go away," he said again.
"Not until you tell me what you're up to. Then I'll turn around and walk away. Just like that. All you have to do is tell me."
"And me."
His day was just getting worse. "Miyagi," he groaned, not wanting to acknowledge but acknowledging nevertheless since, again, this WAS supposed to be a break from the humdrum activities of the mundane little people.
"Someone's up to something," Miyagi said with a small smile. "I've been watching you a while ago. Want to let me know?"
Oh, what the hell. 'Break from monotony. Break from monotony. Break from monotony.' A new mantra in his head had begun and it would perhaps be his motto for the rest of the day. "I'm going to tell Hanamichi that I like him."
Miyagi and Mitsui stared. And stared. And stared some more.
"Excuse me?" Miyagi was the first to speak. "Would you . . . um . . . mind running me in on that again?"
"I-am-going-to-tell-Hanamichi-that-I-like-him," he said as slowly as possible.
"Well then," Mitsui said after a while, still looking a bit shocked, but he also sounded rather thoughtful. Uh-oh.. "That's it?"
Rukawa thought about it. Yeah, that's just about it. "Yes."
Mitsui turned to Miyagi. Miyagi turned to Mitsui. They frowned, then they turned back to Rukawa.
"You're just going to go and tell him?" Miyagi asked.
"Yes."
"No plan or anything?" Mitsui inquired.
"Plan?"
Miyagi frowned. "You're just going over to him and tell him you like him?"
"That IS my intention, as I have repeatedly confirmed. Now, would you move it so I could . . ."
"Well, you can't!" Mitsui said firmly.
"Excuse me?"
"You can't," Miyagi repeated this time.
Rukawa's eyebrows shot upwards. Is it possible? Could it be? "Are you . . . are YOU. . . ."
Mitsui promptly smacked him upside the head. "Idiot! No!" He draped an arm over Rukawa's shoulders, ignoring the glare that was levered at him. "What I meant is, this is GREAT stuff! YOU, Kaede Rukawa, super rookie, Ice King, is about to tell Hanamichi Sakuragi, loudmouth and Younger Brother of King Kong, that you LIKE him! For crying out loud, this is MOMENTOUS! You can't just . . . walk up to him and tell him you like him. Have a little more style."
"Style," Rukawa repeated. His eyes narrowed into slits. "What's wrong with the one I have now?"
Mitsui backed away wisely.
"What Mitsui meant," Miyagi began, stepping forward, "was that you should try something more innovative. You know, get him some flowers maybe, or write him a poem, or sing him a song, or give him a really nice and romantic letter. Those kinds of things."
Rukawa blinked. "You think?"
"We KNOW, Rukawa," Mitsui said, getting his courage back. "Give him some sweets and some stuff to sniff and he'll be falling head over heels."
"I don't think that's how it works."
"Rukawa," Miyagi said, shaking his head. "Say nice things to Hanamichi and he'll love you forever. Trust us. It's going to work."
Rukawa took a deep breath. He didn't have much of a chance with Hanamichi to begin with. If there was ANYTHING that could increase that chance then. . . .
"Where can I get some flowers?"
********
"That's it?"
Mitsui looked at him as if the pitiful little daisies he held in his hand weren't a pathetic excuse for a "bouquet of flowers".
Rukawa stared at the five--no six, there was one wrinkled up and almost broken between two others--still-wet flowers as if they held the solution for Fermat's Last Theorem. He stared at the roots that still stood out messily on each end with bits of soil clinging onto them. He stared at the tiny little droplets of water that dripped from the wet petals. "THAT'S it?" he asked again. [3]
Mitsui glared at him. "Well? You've got no friggin' money to begin with and you did say I should get them within five minutes or I'll be the next ball for basketball practice later. What did you expect? A dozen roses all wrapped up nicely?"
"I expected something that would look decent enough to pass as flowers! Those are a bunch of . . . wilting weeds!"
Mitsui rolled his eyes and thrust his hand out--the one holding the daisies. "Just take it! It's better than nothing!"
Rukawa took a deep breath. Well, Mitsui DID have a point. He reluctantly took the flowers from him and held it as far away from him as possible as if they carried Anthrax. "What do I do now?"
"Do I HAVE to spell it out for you, Rukawa?" Mitsui said exasperatedly. "Give him the damn things! He'll get the idea."
With a deep breath, Rukawa trudged towards Hanamichi and his friends who were still busily making fun of each other by the benches. When he was only a few feet away, Hanamichi looked up and spotted him immediately.
Rukawa froze mid-step.
Hanamichi's eyes narrowed into slits and he approached Rukawa angrily. "Well it's you Fox! What do you want now, eh?"
Rukawa automatically held out his now-wet hand feeling tremendously stupid. 'Kill Mitsui and Miyagi later,' he mentally noted. 'That is if you're still alive after this.'
Hanamichi blinked at the flowers. Then he bent down and eyed them quizzically. "What the hell are those?"
"Er, flowers."
"They look like a bunch of weeds to me."
Rukawa rolled his eyes. He'll definitely kill Mitsui, that is AFTER he tells him 'I told you so.' He held out his hand farther. "Just take them, idiot."
The redhead stood up straight and grabbed Rukawa by the collar in a flash. "What did you just call me, Fox?!"
Before Rukawa knew what he was doing, his 'sarcastic-and-obnoxious mechanism' kicked in. "Idiot," he repeated. "And what does it matter if they're a bunch of weeds or not? I doubt you'd know the difference." He immediately bit on his lip after that, punishing it severely for slipping like that.
"Why you--" Hanamichi raised his fist, but a strangled sound of a whistle made both of them remove their gazes from each other to look at the newcomer.
Bob the Gardener--as he was wont to be called by most of the students--was standing there, a severely dilapidated whistle between his teeth. He was holding what looked to be a small shovel and a battered white sign. "YOU!"
Rukawa blinked and looked at the flowers in his hand. That was when the question that should've popped up in his mind instead of "That's it?" when Mitsui handed him the flowers conveniently came to surface. Just where did Mitsui get the flowers?
Bob the Gardener was marching up towards the two of them in calm but furious strides. He thrust the hand holding the sign forward. It said in bold green letters "Do not pick the flowers."
"I did not care for those flowers just so you hooligans could pluck them out and do with them as you please!" He raised the small shovel threateningly, quickening his approach.
Rukawa would've snapped a witty "Oh, so you're the caretaker? They should change you before all the plants become fertilizer." But, of course, Rukawa was smart enough to know that a very enraged gardener plus a possible weapon for homicide was a bad combination especially when the receiving end of said gardener's wrath was unarmed. Calmly, he plucked Hanamichi's hands from his collar--taking a second to appreciate the feel of touching the redhead--and took off.
********
Rukawa looked down at the face of Mitsui who was, at the moment, all red and blushing--an indication that, indeed, all the blood has practically rushed down to his face.
"Come on, Rukawa! I've suffered enough!" Mitsui argued, trying vainly to free his feet from the monkey bar where Rukawa had oh-so-conveniently threw them over. At the moment, he was dangling upside down in midair and he could feel the stares of other people--people who were concerned, but not enough to face the Ice King in his defense.
Miyagi was hovering around in the corner, keeping his mouth shut after being threatened to share Mitsui's fate.
"Okay," Rukawa said after a while then promptly let go of Mitsui's feet, sending the latter tumbling down on the lush green grass of their school's field.
Mitsui laid down on the grass, trying to catch his breath and letting his blood start circulating properly again. "It wasn't TOO bad!" he argued.
Rukawa was incredulous. "Wasn't TOO bad?! Are you kidding me?! That damn gardener's faster than a cheetah on crack! I had to scale the friggin' fence and run to thank heaven to lose him!"
"You should've just run to the boys' bathroom and lock yourself up in one of the stalls," Miyagi suggested oh-so-helpfully, finally stepping forward.
"He caught me there," Rukawa informed them. "AFTER he kicked all the stall doors open and caught a few boys in . . . uh . . . rather compromising activities. When he was in the stall just beside the one I was hiding in, I dashed out and made a run for it."
Miyagi shivered. "Ew. Who'd want that aging green thumb to catch him taking a piss? Or . . . well . . . er . . .--" He fished for the right word that wasn't scandalizing.
"Defecating," Mitsui supplied from the ground.
Miyagi frowned down at him, surprised.
Mitsui shrugged, face close to losing it's hanging-upside-down-induced color. "Kogure has a wide vocabulary."
"Oh," Miyagi nodded as if it explained everything
Rukawa, meanwhile, was tilting his head to one side looking thoughtful. "Who said they were taking a piss?"
Mitsui and Miyagi blinked. "Eh?"
Rukawa scratched his head. "They WERE in the same stall. Man, I'll never use that stall again. Come to think of it, I'll never look at my two classmates the same way ever again. Though I'd give them some credit. I never think I'd see the day Bob the Gardener would say 'Poppycock!' with that whistle of his between his teeth."
Miyagi and Mitsui blinked once more. Then with identical nods, they said "Oh!" as if that explained everything as well.
********
Rukawa stared at the small crumpled piece of paper in his palm. "What's this?"
"A poem," Miyagi answered simply, crossing his arms. After Mitsui's little blunder with the flowers--or 'weeds' as Rukawa had insisted--Miyagi had decided to take the matter into his own hands. "I wrote it."
Rukawa carefully smoothed the paper into his palm. "You did?" He examined the words and began to read.
"You are the fire that burns--
In my fireplace of love.
You are the evening cloud that floats--
In my sky of love.
You are my own, my own,
Love." [4]
Miyagi looked at him expectantly.
Rukawa looked back at him incredulously. "I can't use this!"
"Why not?"
"Because it sucks!" Rukawa said.
Miyagi glared at him. "Oh, yeah? Well, let's see you try writing poems! I bet the word 'idiot' would appear in it every stinking line!"
Rukawa chose to ignore the implications that pertained to his writing skills--or lack of it, for that matter. "You give Ayako this crap?!"
"No, I have a whole book of crap, er, (Damn you!) love poems for her!" He took out a small notebook from his pocket and started flipping the pages. "Here! I'll read you some of them!"
Rukawa held up his hands. "Spare me the torture."
********
"It's a nice song."
"I can't sing it."
Mitsui rolled his eyes. "Rukawa! Would you swallow your pride for once? If you want Hanamichi that badly, this isn't the time to act all shy!"
Rukawa glared at Mitsui. "I am NOT shy! I just can't sing it!"
"What do you mean you can't sing it?!"
"It's too friggin' high, that's why," Rukawa snapped. "I am NOT Mariah Carey if you haven't noticed. I'll sound like a strangled bird or something," he argued then said sarcastically, "Bet that would really sweep him off his feet, eh?"
"Then sing it an octave lower. And by the way, Celine Dion sang this one."
"Who cares? And no."
"Come on, Rukawa. Lunch time's almost over!"
"No."
"Me and Miyagi could play your second voice."
"Definitely not!"
Mitsui shook his head and let out a long suffering sigh. He looked at Miyagi who was all tied up and hanging from the monkey bar--now dubbed by him as 'The Metal Stick of Torture'--where Mitsui had hung before. "You gonna let him go?"
"No."
Mitsui frowned. "I didn't see any crazy gardeners chasing after you. What could be worse than that?"
"Don't ask."
Mitsui didn't. Instead, he asked, "Wanna try something by Britney Spears?"
********
"Rukawa!" Mitsui shouted as he hung upside down with Miyagi right beside him. "It was a JOKE!"
"I'm sorry, but I seem to have lost my sense of humor today," Rukawa said, not sounding sorry at all. He looked at his watch.
"It's over," he said with a sigh. Lunch was going to end in less than five minutes and they were all out of ideas. He seemed to have lost his nerve as well as he watched the other students return to the Main Building for their classes.
He reached forward and undid the knots that held Miyagi and Mitsui's feet in place. The two fell into an unceremonious heap on the ground.
"No it's not," Miyagi said firmly, face still a little flushed from his experience with 'The Metal Stick of Torture'. He lay on the ground with Mitsui, breathing hard.
"It is."
"It's not," Mitsui argued. "I didn't suffer two rounds with the damn Metal Stick of Torture just to quit now! We'll send him a letter in the middle of class."
"Yeah, that ought to do it," Miyagi agreed.
Rukawa shrugged. It couldn't get any worse right? "Yeah, sure."
"Well?" Miyagi looked at him expectantly. "Start writing!"
********
Rukawa looked at the blank piece of paper that lay on top of his desk, then at the black pen clutched in his right hand. He'd been doing that for the first half of his class after lunch and still his hand hadn't moved to write on the paper.
With a deep breath, he calmly reminded himself that this WAS for Hanamichi and that he better start writing before he lost his chance altogether. Moving his hand, he positioned his pen and started to scribble down a few lines. With calm and fluid strokes of hiragana and kanji and the occasional katakana, he poured out his heart. Letting all the frustrations of his failed attempts that day appear in his writing, making him sound rather desperate and passionate at the same time. Half-way through the paper, he paused and re-read what he had written.
It was perhaps a miracle that he didn't mention the word 'idiot' even once and that he had limited the insulting to a minimum. That was probably a good sign. Perhaps this letter idea wasn't too bad after all. . . .
"Rukawa."
Rukawa snapped to attention and found himself staring straight past the thick lenses his English teacher wore and into stern and inquisitive eyes.
His teacher was bent forward--but not too much as he wasn't tall to begin with and Rukawa's height WAS rather higher than average--and he was also looking curiously at the piece of paper on top of Rukawa's desk. "Hmm, what is that?" he asked and snatched the paper away before Rukawa could think.
"Writing letters in the middle of a lesson isn't something I find very pleasant, Rukawa," his teacher said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and making an even closer inspection of the letter. His eyes narrowed, then widened considerably.
Rukawa was desperate and made a grab for it. Unfortunately, his English teacher had been trained by his more than three decades of experience in handling love-sick girl students who'd spend the rest of their time in his class writing love poems and doodling that he easily evaded Rukawa's lunge sending the poor boy toppling onto the floor.
A good number of girls in his class made their way to help him up, but he quickly brought himself back on his feet and on his chair before they could even touch him.
"Oh dear," his teacher commented after finishing with the letter. "I never thought I'd see the day. . . . I knew something was up when you weren't sleeping in my class, I never thought it would be THIS."
All his classmates were leaning forward on their seats already.
Calmly, Rukawa clasped his palms together and prayed for a bolt of lightning to come and strike him--NO, he didn't want to be fried--so rather, he prayed that a bolt of lightning would come and strike his teacher, Mitsui and Miyagi at that moment.
But of course, as was the new 'monotony' that day, bad luck was on his side. No lightning came and he watched the most humiliating moment of his life unfold before his very eyes. His teacher began to read the letter. Or rather, a certain part of it.
"Why do you always make me feel so distraught? I don't know what I want when you're around. Sometimes I want to beat the crap out of you, but most of the time, I just want to hold you and touch you and keep you. . . ."
It took all of Rukawa's strength to keep a straight face and not sink in his chair as all the girls--and perhaps some of the guys, particularly the two boys that Bob the Gardener had 'walked into' a while ago--began to buzz with excitement. Some were whispering to each other, some looked extremely curious, some were giggling, while some were . . . eh, never mind. Bottom line, he was in deep shit.
". . . What does it take to make you realize how much I like you?" His teacher went on, seemingly happy that he could finally get back at Rukawa for sleeping in his class all the time--Rukawa vowed never to sleep in class again, or better yet, he vowed to look for a voodoo witch after this and ask her to put SOMEONE to sleep forever. "You're just too naive, too blind even to see it. Or perhaps I'm just really good at hiding it. But now, it doesn't matter. I know I want you. I know that I like you very much. And, damn it, I think I love you too. Do you get what I'm saying here?"
Now, the squeals were DEFINITELY close to reaching 'deafening level' and for the first time in a long time, Rukawa lost control of his inhibitions and blushed.
********
"Don't worry," Mitsui said, desperately trying to convince Rukawa that everything would be all right--because if he didn't, he was pretty sure he'll have another round with 'The Metal Stick of Torture'.
Miyagi was nodding his assent. "Yes! Come on. It was only in your class. This whole thing's gonna blow over before you could say--"
"Hey, Rukawa, what's this I've been hearing about you liking someone?"
Rukawa wished Miyagi hadn't spoken too soon--more so, Miyagi fervently hoped he hadn't as he wasn't looking forward to another go with 'The Metal Stick of Torture'.
Mito Youhei was standing there, one fine eyebrow raised. He had a small smile on his lips.
"How the hell did you know about it?" Mitsui demanded.
"It's all over the school if you must know," Youhei informed them, crossing his arms. "I overheard a bunch of girls--"
"You see that?!" Rukawa burst out, not minding the odd looks directed at him by people who were milling about the hallway. "Everyone friggin' knows! I shouldn't have listened to you! I should have been straight-forward from the start--"
Youhei took a step back. "Whoa man, you're freaking me out! What the hell did you guys feed him? He's acting all . . . weird."
"I'm frustrated, all right!" Rukawa snapped.
"Quite understandable," Mitsui said, trying to save face from the crowd that had gathered to watch the outburst. "Listen, er, class is over and we have practice later. Why don't you . . . er, try telling him then?"
"It's a he?" Youhei asked, not sounding TOO surprised.
Rukawa glared at him. "Go shoot yourself."
"Oh, I'm not about to let suicide get in the way of something as interesting as THIS," Youhei said, grinning. "Wait until I tell Hanamichi."
Mitsui, Miyagi and Rukawa froze.
Youhei raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"Don't," Miyagi was first to speak up.
Mitsui was shaking his head furiously. "Listen, Youhei. We've never exactly been on good terms, but for my sake, and Miyagi's--and Kogure's as I think he'd be understandably upset if something terrible happened to me--DON'T tell Hanamichi a thing."
Youhei blinked. "But why?" Then his eyes widened as realization dawned. "Oh!"
Miyagi nodded. "Yes. 'Oh!' is right. And you can't tell anyone because if you do, Rukawa's going to be blowing fire and he's going to vent everything on us."
"Why would he do that?"
In one breath, Miyagi related the gist of the day's events to a very attentively listening Youhei. "You understand now?"
Youhei, covered his mouth to keep from laughing before turning to Rukawa as if he needed some kind of confirmation.
Rukawa was, at the moment, clenching his fists. He raised his eyes and they screamed 'Murder!'. With a deep breath, he turned to Miyagi, grabbed him by the neck and shouted, "I'll kill you!"
Youhei made the sign of the cross as he tip-toed away. Yup. That was confirmation enough. "Hey, Makoto!" He shouted as he ran into the nearest classroom. "I owe you a hundred yen." Normally, he wouldn't be too happy shedding out some money, but he was feeling rather generous today. "You're right. He's gay."
********
Rukawa marched into the changing room with two very red players trailing behind him. "This is the worst day of my life! In fact, worst doesn't even begin to describe what happened to me today. No! Worst is an understatement!"
Mitsui and Miyagi turned to each other and took a step back. They seemed to have had enough of a very vocal Rukawa to last them a century. At that moment, Miyagi wished the old Ice King was back.
Rukawa leant on one of the lockers and crossed his arms. He got his breath back and ran a hand through his hair. It was perhaps a trick of the light, but when Mitsui saw the look on the rookie's face, he thought he'd never see anyone so resigned before. Of course, if perhaps this happened to Miyagi, it wouldn't be too much of a big deal. Or maybe even to him. But this was Rukawa, and seeing the normally stoic boy loose all his inhibitions over a matter of failed attempts showed him how much this really meant to the boy.
"You really do like him, don't you?"
Rukawa raised his eyes to meet Mitsui's. Then with a resigned sigh, he nodded.
Miyagi was biting his lip, then he approached Rukawa and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Then tell him. Forget the flowers, or the damn poems," he winced slightly when he said that, "or the song or the letter. I think that look on your face and the truth coming from your very own lips would be more than enough to make him realize how much he really means to you."
Rukawa looked back at the sophomore, then nodded very slightly. A few seconds later, the sound of footsteps leaked through the doors of the changing room, and then a familiar looking redhead burst through, a very serious expression set on his perfectly chiseled face.
Slowly, Miyagi and Mitsui backed away.
Hanamichi stood there and remained silent for a while. And then he spoke. "Youhei said you had something to tell me." His face softened considerably when he said those words.
Rukawa nodded and stood up straight. He took a deep breath and thought about the things he said on the letter, he even thought about Miyagi's hideous poem. Then he dropped them altogether. 'Just tell him,' he thought firmly. "I like you, Hanamichi."
The redhead stared at him, surprise registering only in his eyes. He stood still for a whole minute that felt like forever, before taking a deep breath and letting out that one word that perhaps came out of everyone's lips that day. A monotonous word that perhaps meant everything to Rukawa at that moment. "Oh." And then a small smile.
It was as simple as that. With just two quick strides, Rukawa had Hanamichi in his arms and was kissing him for all he was worth. And it came to no one else's surprise when the redhead returned the kiss with as much fervor.
Mitsui calmly tapped Miyagi on the shoulder. "I think we should leave them alone now. They still have ten minutes before practice officially begins anyway."
Miyagi just nodded dumbly.
********
The moment Mitsui came out of the changing room with Miyagi, he bid his friend good-bye and jogged up the short distance to the gym. Ayako stood at the side with Coach Anzai while Akagi talked with some of the members that had already arrived.
With a confident gait, he walked towards them, reaching out a hand to grab Kogure's arm. "A second, please." And he was pulling him to the side of the gym.
"Hisashi?" Kogure asked, confused as he was dragged to the corner. And with no premonition whatsoever, he was grabbed roughly by the arms, pinned to the wall and was given the most fervent kiss he'd ever received from his lover.
When Mitsui pulled away, Kogure was out of breath.
"I love you," Mitsui said earnestly.
Kogure was still trying to catch his breath but he managed to squeak out a, "I know," and an "I love you too." It also took a moment for the surprise on Kogure's face to completely vanish.
Leaning forward again, Mitsui planted a very soft and very chaste kiss on Kogure's lips. "Well? How was your day?"
"I think the question should be, how was YOURS? You never used to say it so easily before."
"What? The 'I love you' bit?" Mitsui laughed and didn't even need to think about the answer. "I just learned a lesson today."
Kogure raised an eyebrow. "What is that?"
Mitsui planted another feathery soft kiss on Kogure's mouth. "The importance of being straight-forward, love. The importance of being straight-forward."
********
Roughly two hours later, Miyagi walked Ayako home.
"Hey, Aya-chan," Miyagi said, looking thoughtful.
"What is it, Ryota?" Ayako inquired, hugging herself as a cool breeze passed by.
Miyagi automatically removed his jacket and placed it on her shoulders.
"Thanks."
The boy shrugged, blushing a bit. "Anyway, I was wondering--it just seems like I've loved you forever--when did I exactly say it straight out that I did . . . you know, love you?"
Ayako giggled slightly and gave Miyagi a peck on the cheek. "Actually, you said it through a poem during freshmen year. I do hope you stopped writing those things. As much as they're sweet they're just . . . well, TOO sweet for my own tastes."
Miyagi laughed and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Poems? You know it was just a phase. Besides, who needs poems when they could just say it straight out? Me still writing poems. Ha! That's ridiculous."
Ayako just rolled her eyes and playfully punched him in the arm.
Miyagi let out a deep breath and once they passed by the trash bin, he took out one hand from his pocket and threw in his small notebook without a moment's hesitation.
A few blocks away, two tall boys walked home hand-in-hand. Most of the people who saw them were scandalized but such reactions only brought a small smile on one of the boys' faces. A tribute to the pitiful activities of the mundane. And with that small smile, monotony was broken like a crack on ice.
~~~ The End ~~~
[1] I assumed Rukawa's age was sixteen and converted those years to days and the number that came up was 5696. However, this would mean he'd be EXACTLY sixteen so it wouldn't be realistic so I just put it up at a rough estimate (More like rounded off. ^^;) of 6000 days.
[2] This is another assumption. I'm not an SD expert, so I only drew up an image of Hanamichi spending time with his friends in this location during lunch break. I'm not even sure if there IS a Chess Plaza in Shohoku High.
[3] Fermat's Last Theorem is considered the greatest mathematical problem in history. For three hundred years, mathematicians have plagued over the problem until recently when two Japanese men laid down the foundation for the solution. It took more than a hundred pages to prove that x^n + y^n = z^n where n is more than 2 had no solution. ^^ Just wanted to put it in as I was tremendously amused with it. He, he.
[4] Er, this hideous poem was provided by my little brother. He said he heard it somewhere but he couldn't remember so, er, to whoever made my poor little brother listen to this poem: Shame on you! Hehe. ^^