Title: Running Parallel
Fandom: Gokusen (drama; post-series)
Pairing: Shin/Kumiko
Rating: PG
Summary: It wasn't as if waiting a day or two would make much of a difference.
Disclaimer: The characters appearing in the following story do not belong to me.
Going to see Yankumi on his first day home was a little bit pathetic; besides which, Shin thought, it wasn't as if he was so hung up on her that another day or two would make much of a difference.
Shin had always considered himself to be fairly levelheaded, but being so close to Yankumi after so long was beginning to turn him a little crazy--there was no other explanation for the ridiculous fantasies that sprang, fully formed, into his mind whenever his self-control began to slip.
Shin was cool, dignified--and showing up on Yankumi's doorstep in suit and tie, a dozen red roses in hand, was not. Embarrassed at himself, Shin couldn't keep the scenario from unfolding in his imagination: Yankumi, wide-eyed and wanting, hands warm against his. He'd cup the back of her head, lower his mouth to hers, and make Kumiko forget that he'd ever been one of her precious students.
Shin snorted. That wasn't Yankumi, and it certainly wasn't his style.
Other dreams found Yankumi perched on the edge of her desk, hands fisted in Shin's hair, her legs hooked around his. Glasses cast aside, hair free--Yankumi as she was when serious, and finally, finally focused completely on Shin. That was the kind of dream best kept to long nights and faraway places.
Shin suspected that Yankumi would punch him before letting him enjoy a kiss--shocked and appalled at her own actions, of course, but the blood would be a perfect excuse to forget the preceding intimacy.
Sometimes, Shin was struck by how truly ridiculous his situation was, and wryly wondered if he'd have better luck gaining Yankumi's attention if he gave her pigtails a good, hard tug: "hey, I like you; wanna go out with me?"
Maybe, he thought, he could win Yankumi's heart through a bout of hand-to-hand combat with the woman herself. Not the worst strategy he'd come up with, Shin thought, and couldn't stop his sudden smile.
He had been thinking about Yankumi so often since returning home that at first, he suspected that the woman racing towards him was a figment of his imagination, or a memory. A whooping war cry rose from the gang of teens pounding down the street, and yes--yes, it was Yankumi in the lead, her pigtails whipping out behind her as she ran. For a second, time seemed to collapse in on itself, and Shin was a boy again, watching as his teacher and friends rushing towards him.
This really wasn't how he'd imagined meeting Yankumi again.
Yankumi's stride hitched; she'd caught sight of Shin. Her eyes widened. "Sawada!" she cried. Her class let out a roar of disapproval as Yankumi slowed--had he been such an ill-mannered brat, too?--and she flashed Shin a smile as she sped up again, moving past him.
So what if this wasn't the tender embrace he'd been fantasizing about? This was the Yankumi he'd fallen in love with--and he wasn't going to let her run headlong into trouble without reliable backup.
He'd long ago figured out that it was easier to give into the chaos around Yankumi than to fight it. He fell into stride next to her, easily and without qualms. It felt good to be running at her side, finally.
She beamed at him. "Welcome home, Sawada!"
--end