A/N: So after four years of quiet, these series inspired me to start writing again. I hope I managed to do the characters justice and that you'll enjoy.
Thanks for reading, MisSs005 : ))
Hyuga Tohru doesn't like to waste time.
In fact, if there's anything he hates more than wasting time it is being physically surrounded by people who are a waste of time.
Too bad that Asahina refuses to understand this very simple and straightforward fact and for a split second Hyuga almost feels sorry for destroying a whole room of young idealist with a few casual words. The key word is almost. It will probably take him another two lifetimes before he can cut others some slack. Maybe.
So after completely crushing the hopes of yet another young university fool who has the audacity to think he can impress him, Hyuga lazily settles on the stage, intending to stop this parade. Has he mentioned yet he has wasted enough time here?
But then his eyes focus on the girl sitting right across him. She is by herself and miserably fails at avoiding his gaze. She reminds him of a recent sketch he made for an online game- one of a terrified mouse trying to escape the clutches of a bored cat.
He smirks inwardly when their eyes finally meet. The imagery of it all is too amusing for him to deny himself the pleasure of crushing just one more soul. Might as well.
"You…"
"Yes!" She shoots up without hesitation although her voice shakes.
Mouse-san is a little faster than he anticipated.
"How many job offers have you got?"
He knows he's on the right track when she slumps and looks down defeated. Bingo.
"I still haven't…" Her voice trails off, tinged by embarrassment.
Hyuga doesn't feel bad at all for what he's about to do to her. On the contrary, it's in his nature to separate the good from the bad. That's how he got so far in the first place.
He knows good. He makes good. He simply is good.
"Not one in this season?" He pushes himself off the stage and walks towards her.
"You graduated from an obscure university, right?"
She stands a little taller, he notices, and wonders whether Mouse-san has yet fully grasped her impending doom.
"No, from the University of Tokyo." The smallness of her voice doesn't change, yet he can sense a slight spike. Feeling proud, are we?
"I see. We live in an era where illustrious universities are not rewarded." He reigns in his impulse to point a finger at her and laugh. After all, he's got a lesson to teach here.
He further closes the distance between them and casually leans onto the chair next to her. "Do you have any fundamental flaw?" He wonders out loud, feigned innocence dripping from his tone.
All the crueller.
Then he turns around without even as much as glancing her way and skips onto the stage once more. The mouse has been devoured.
"Those who haven't had an offer, please go." His bored tone elicits gasps throughout the entire room. Once the students find out he is not kidding, half of the room, some disgruntled, some scared out of their minds, stand up and head towards the exit.
He is pleased.
Toying with Mouse-san has proved itself to be useful. Now that the trash will throw itself out, his job is easier. He half contemplates using this tactic in the future.
His eyes glide over the now nearly empty room before resting on her form. Unlike the rest, she is still standing there as if frozen onto the spot.
"Miss University of Tokyo," he says in an attempt to shoo her out of the room, "it's over."
She finally looks up and their eyes meet for the second time. He thinks he sees something more than only defeat etched in those eyes, but it must be his imagination, for she has already turned around and is on her way.
Normally he would stop here. He's won. The lesson is over.
Even he isn't the type that traumatizes people for life no matter how much joy he gets out of giving others a free reality check.
But something edges him on. He must know whether she really is a mouse or not. She plays the part, but he feels like he's missing a piece of the puzzle. So he continues relentlessly.
"She is the living example of our Japanese educational system's failure. "
His lips curl up when she falls down.
"Or rather a victim."
Yes, now crawl like the mouse you are…-
"She has been studying as she was told, yet she's become a redundant person."
…- but the unthinkable happens.
She stands up and starts sprouting the data of his company with a neutral voice as if it is the most natural thing in the world.
Unlike the rest, the display of her rote memory skills doesn't impress him. He doesn't mind vocalizing this small fact to her. Yet when she faces him, her back straight and gaze unwavering- capturing his own, challenging him in front of everyone else … he can't but help himself to give her a little bit credit.
"Your rage is not a bad thing. Miss Tokyo University…"
He has instinctively risen to her bait, his body removing the distance; he is drawn into her vicinity. Interestingly, she doesn't pull back either. "That's not my name." In fact, it's quite the opposite.
Something about the way she captures his eyes puts him on edge. She's too confident and it irks him to not know why.
"It's Sawaki Chihiro." Her voice is steady, in control.
His world is anything but.
That name…
An avalanche of emotions crushes into him, rendering him incapable of functioning. His system is shut down and for once he is honestly at loss for words. His sarcasm and wit fail him.
Immobilized.
Defeated.
"So you are Sawaki Chihiro, eh." His own voice sounds distant to his ears.
"Something wrong?" He knows she is fully aware of his discomposure. She has won this round.
"Nope… I will remember your name, although I'll probably forget your face."
…but for some strange reason he finds out he cannot forget. Her name and face keep hunting him and he spends the entire night tossing and turning until he finally reaches consensus.
A round two is in order.
After all, he always has the final say in anything.
And why should this time be any different?
終わり