Lemon Boy and me started to get along together.
Entering the League, he had never expected the man who made his knees wobble and a thin layer of sweat to form on his forehead out of fear would have been the man he wanted to grow old with. He had never expected that Muscular- Shishio Miuchi, he had found his actual name to be- would be able to overcome his bitterness to love someone.
I helped him plant his seeds and we'd mow the lawn in bad weather.
He remembers vividly how Shishio had reacted when he had got the bravery to tell him that he had a romantic crush on him. He didn't even laugh, didn't deck Netaro in the face, didn't even seem to care at all.
"No, you don't. Nobody ever has."
It's actually pretty easy being nice to a bitter boy like him, so I got myself a citrus friend.
He was nearly discouraged, but Netaro was an intelligent young man. It was almost as if he was trying to defend his feelings rather than tell the boy to screw off to Hell where he belonged. Netaro didn't leave things incomplete. Rather than taking the hint to go bother someone else, he pushed. Slowly, at first.
He would greet Shishio whenever he got to the hideout after school, and although for a long time all he got was a glare, it paid off. Soon, the older man would take time to actually greet him back- mostly consisting of 'go to Hell's and 'die in a hole'. It was endearing to Netaro all the same.
But soon his bitter sweet began to rub off on me.
Netaro drifted away from his mostly non-fatal methods, and soon he was practicing his shot by killing teenagers that were close to his own age. All to impress Shishio, the man of his dreams.