A/N: Oh my god, finally I finished chapter one... Word of warning is that I'm not sure how frequent I'll be posting chapters. It will be a finished piece though since I have the structure sorted - and I hate unfinished things. I just needed to get this posted otherwise I would never get round to doing anything and would have procrastinated.
Chapter. 01
Arakita's mouth had never run so many curses than he had sprinting up the stairs of the engineering department. If leaping the stairs two (almost three) at a time to the third floor was not a task in itself, then it was only thanks to the burning training the captain had forced upon the 'newbies' of Yonan's cycling club. The lactic acid burned in his joints, lengthening the time he had been without rest.
After passing through the doors by the staff room, and slowing his pace to even his breathing, Arakita arrived at his supervisor's office. Short breaths heaved his shoulders forward to focus on his shoes rather than the door. Allowing himself another five deep breaths, Arakita half-knocked half-slid his hand on the door; double checking the plaque read Dr S. Saito was not a concern for the student who had been called to the office more than the scheduled slots Yonan recommended. In fact, his last visit had been when his eyes were too heavy to keep open for a safe amount of time. However, being asked by his supervisor was too much of a chore, especially in comparison to being called to the staff room in Hakone, university lecturers had the absence of prejudice towards first years that Arakita could not be labelled a delinquent.
Despite Arakita's lethargic knocking, his request to enter the office was still offered an invitation; Arakita opened the door to the office. Inside his supervisor, Professor Saito, was sat behind her desk with a small smile to greet him, "Good afternoon, Arakita. Please take a seat." Her pale hands offering the seat in front of her. Despite the hellish training he had masochistically suffered, the thought of being seated in the office did not fit well; it only implied a lengthy conversation. Curling his upper lip into a silent snarl, Arakita slumped in the chair once his rear touched the leather, keeping his curved posture intact.
Once seated and the polite inquiries of Arakita's welfare and curt replies from the undergraduate were passed, Professor Saito begun the topic of their appointment, "Arakita, do you understand why you have received this one-to-one session?"
Arakita rolled his eyes; the same question was always asked each time he entered the clean office. "It's because I failed the stupid essays." Arakita said, staring at the rushed essays laid on the desk.
"I'm sure you have read the feedback and know that these are not fails," Professor Saito thumbed one of the sheets. "However, the marks you received are of a concern when you are a scholarship student."
"Yeah, I know. I'll just redo them, then." Arakita shrugged. It would be a chore, for certain, but his eagerness to dive head first into the cycling club was too great to let his grades slip. That mind-set was not unshared by the rest of the cycling club, where marks and attendance in academics still had to be kept to ensure participation in tournaments and races.
"They were only formative essays so we don't require you to redo those." Professor Saito said. "You will, however, sit an additional exam in five weeks. To ensure that you do well, the course deputy and I am suggesting that you should be placed on the P.T. Scheme."
P.T. Scheme? The acronym sounded fairly familiar or at least familiar in the sense Arakita may have read something in an information booklet, but that had been at the beginning of the course. Then again, had he really read anything thoroughly bar his room itinerary and the Cycling club's signup sheet?
Before Arakita could feign knowledge on the subject, Professor Saito spoke, "The PTS is the Peer Tutoring Scheme…" When Arakita averted his eyes, Professor Saito sighed. "It was in your handbook… Anyway, the scheme is not for failing students. It's for those who we think are underperforming–" Arakita bit the inside of his cheek at the contradiction. "We assign you to one of your peers studying the same modules or a second year who has already been through the modules. Plus, I think a more relaxed environment would be suited for you, Arakita."
More than anything the scheme sounded potentially taxing. Arakita talked to roughly five people on his course, but of those five Kinjou was the only one who did not seem totally clueless twenty-four seven and whom he actually cared talking to. There were others on the course, whose eyes lit with awe along with a smug smirk of knowledge every time a new equation was introduced. No doubt they too could be classed as his peers. The premise of meeting up with an egoist like those made his lips curl. "How many times do I have to do this thing, then?"
"You'll meet an hour for each module you have–"
"Four!" Arakita groaned; those four hours could be spent cycling, where he would be far more progressive.
"We've already assigned you someone and we have been scheduling your timetables. That is if you decide to run with the P.T. Scheme. Hold on, I have the email…" Professor Saito shifted, facing her computer and clicked the mouse a few times. "Ah, yes, it's three times a week so you would have a two hour session on Tuesdays."
Arakita ground his teeth together at the length of time the scheme was eating into the already limited time he had. "What time? I have training on Tuesdays"
Professor Saito lifted her head as if remembering additional information. "Arakita, your academic studies should take priority over any other clubs. I'm suggesting you cut down–"
"What!" Arakita swung his legs giving the momentum to sit back up on the chair. "I can't just cut down on cycling! Captain said that we have a tournament coming up and there's no way I am missing that."
"Arakita." Professor Saito's lips straightened to a line. "This is a serious matter. University is not the same as high school. Whilst I'm not imposing the scheme as mandatory, I would highly recommend you supplement your club activities to suit your academic career. If you do say there is a tournament then wouldn't that be a reason to motivate you to study."
Cutting down valuable training time would be absurd, especially so close to the first annual tournament (more importantly it would be his first tournament as part of Yonan) even if the training made him collapse from exhaustion. It would have been tempting to click his teeth whilst barking complaints if Professor Saito had not rooted his authority in the glare he sent Arakita.
"Fine." Arakita clipped his words, omitting the small degree to which he was agreeing on. Ridding himself of training would never be an option Arakita could choose, not after the years in Hakone surrounded by the not-so-sickly warm teammates that were still riding (as was their main topic in their group conversations).
"Arakita, I'm your supervisor not the bad guy." Professor Saito sighed. "If you do not pass the pass the exams at an acceptable grade, we will have to consider retaking the year. By 'we', I include myself, your peer tutor and the course leader."
"Yeah yeah, I get it. I'll do the stupid scheme." Arakita grumbled, looking at the carpet away from stupid essays he regretted rushing. "Now can I go?"
Professor Saito waited for Arakita to look up but when it was clear Arakita found the carpet more interesting, she gave up. "If you don't have any questions, I guess so."
Arakita stood up with a quick thanks to his supervisor, eager to head back to the club room.
Before he had time to move from the chair Professor Saito spoke once more. "You'll start on Tuesday so you'll have the weekend and the Monday to sort anything out. And please check your timetable." The latter part was said in a rush by the lack of eye contact from her student. Arakita gave a short bow and nodded to his supervisor before he left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar, enough for it to slowly swing open itself and have the occupant shut the door herself.
Arakita headed for the club room in the same manner he had ran to the office: profanity under his breath.
Returning to the university's sports centre, hands in the back pockets of his cycling jersey unable to dig them into any pockets on his thighs, Arakita made his way through the facilities to the cycling club facilities. The cycling team had a separate building storing spare bikes and repair equipment. Outside, Arakita spotted Kinjou sat crossed leg working on an upturned bicycle, no longer dressed in his cycling gear.
"Kinjou." Arakita spoke, creating a presence his friend could acknowledge without shifting focus from the oil chain.
He received a general nod and greeting before he was asked, "How was the meeting?"
"A pain," Arakita clicked his teeth and sunk into a crouch in front of Kinjou and his bike. "I've been forced to take part in the fucking P.T. Scheme and then there's crap about not being able to train so much even when the tournament is so close!"
Kinjou flicked his eyes to glance at his friend, through the frame, watching him sigh and curl his lip. Kinjou spoke up at the ugly face Arakita pulled, "The P.T. Scheme would motivate you. I'm part of the scheme too."
"Eh! Wait, is that how you're getting such higher marks than me?" Arakita asked, rocking slightly on his heels. If it was enhancing Kinjou's marks then maybe it would be beneficial to say the least.
Kinjou chuckled, "Partly. But no, I'm a tutor."
"Well, you better not be my tutor. If you're teaching is anything like your riding I don't want to be surrounded by your constant presence."
Kinjou suppressed the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Please do tell me what your tutor is like then."
"Yeah, yeah." Arakita waved his friend off. He dropped his head, exasperated from the past half hour of being able to rest. He still wore the jersey thanks to his rush to meet his supervisor except it no longer stuck to his skin from sweat. "I'm off to shower."
"Wait." Kinjou stopped Arakita in a half crouch wiping his hands on a rag before pulling a key from his trouser pocket for Arakita. "I put your stuff in my locker."
Arakita snatched the keys giving a nod of his thanks and apologised for dashing off after training. Kinjou shrugged in response focusing on his bike whilst Arakita headed into the locker room to finally change. The warm water would let time still before he would have to worry over underperforming and the possibility of missing races.
No, such things could not happen.