[The name of my OC is Lydia Romanoff and is made up by me.]
We met outside the main entrance, always at the right side from where you walked out of the school building. Always on Thursdays. Always underneath the large windows to the school's living room lounge. Always 15:35 on the afternoon, because our classes ended 15:30.
"Are you ready?" he asked, but Makoto had gotten tired of standing in the same place waiting for me so he had already begun walking towards the direction we always headed; at right from where you walk out of the school building. Towards his home. Towards Miss Hanamiya and towards his mother.
"Miss Hanamiya" was an epithet that was either hated or loved, but both his mother and I loved it, so there it was. Makoto hated it. But Makoto hated almost everything at some point.
I walked rapidly up to his side in order to keep up with him. The walk home to him took about 30 minutes, so Miss Hanamiya always had tea ready for us after 16:00 and absolutely before 17:00. The later in case some obstacles stood in our way. (One obstacle being Hara clinging onto us, but this day we didn't have to bother with him.)
"You really hold onto this pointless tradition, don't you?" Makoto asked me when we crossed a road, looking down at me with a thick eyebrow raised.
"It's important." I gladly answered and that was all it took for the dark haired male to snort and look away.
"Important…" he mumbled to himself.
Makoto and I had gotten used to each other's presence to the point that we both could tolerate silence whenever we were social. We had walked those entire 30 minutes without saying a single word to each other once. I remember the almost grateful glances we traded when we stepped into the hall of his house, so I suppose that we both didn't have a superb day that time and didn't feel like talking.
This particular day didn't feel as heavy as that day, but we didn't say much after our minor conversation about me and Miss Hanamiya's Thursday tea tradition. And the 30 minutes went fast by. In fact, I think we managed home five minutes shorter than usual. We were almost running the last bit, and when we entered the neighbourhood, I understood why...
Makoto had actually started running. Fast. And away from me.
"Not again, Makoto!" I yelled and ran after him with my backpack bouncing against my back awkwardly. Just as I predicted, there was no way I could run ahead of him, but his house wasn't far away. I saw it behind a couple of trees.
Just when I managed to keep up with him, we were already outside his building and Makoto slammed the front door in my face with a wild, crazy smirk just when I had reached the entrance. I heard the lock click.
"MAKOTO!" I yelled and slammed the door repeatedly until he would open it. He opened it much sooner than expected. Last time, his mother had to come for my rescue after minutes of crying and begging. The door swung open and Makoto blocked the doorway with furrowed, annoyed brows.
"You sound like an abused five-year-old…" he muttered as I pressed myself through the opening into the hall.
"Makoto, haven't I told you more than once? Leave poor Lydia alone. She's my guest, so let her in at once." I heard the angelic voice of his mother from the kitchen.
"She's inside already!" Makoto shouted back to her, slamming the front door shut. "And as slow as ever." he whispered huskily in my ear when I was bending down to remove my shoes, smacking my bum with his hand before dashing up the stairs to his room.
I rolled my eyes and left my bag in the hallway, greeting his mother in the kitchen. Her hair was shorter.
"You look beautiful!" I told her, and she looked a bit shocked at my compliment, but she was smiling hugely. Her hand reached up to touch her head of black hair.
"Oh, thank you Lydia. It was done days ago, but we haven't seen each other since last week!" she said and embraced me. She laughed when she pulled away, leaving a lovely perfume scent after her.
"Makoto hates it. He said that I resemble the Kardashian mother Kris Jenner." she said and made a grimace that was supposed to be snubbed, but she just managed to look even more charming. I shook my head in protest to Makoto's accusation.
"Not at all! I think it suits you perfectly." I said, and Miss Hanamiya seemed to believe me as she put her neat hand on my cheek in an affectionate gesture. She came to think of something in that moment and looked over my shoulder.
"Where did Makoto go? There is something I need to tell him." She walked over to the table and continued the setting of the fancy teacups. It seemed like we were having tea in the kitchen.
"Should I go get him?" I asked her, feeling like I was in her way somehow.
"Yes dear. I'm waiting for a call and my phone is charging. Would you be so kind?" she said with a smile and I nodded. "Of course."
Outside Makoto's room was a table lamp on a small furniture. Miss Hanamiya told me that she had put it there only to lit it up when Makoto had late practice so that he wouldn't have to come home to a dark house.
Now the light were off, and the door to his room was half open when I entered, and Makoto himself was half naked. He was looking down at his phone in front of his window without his shirt on.
"Two minutes and nineteen seconds." he said without looking at me.
"What?" I asked him and closed the door. Makoto had told me to always close the door whenever I entered his room when we were alone. I think he did that in case he would say something offensive to me that his mom would overhear and get upset with him about.
"I collect evidence. This is just another proof that you're obsessed with me. It has barely been three minutes since we stepped through the front door, and you already disturb my privacy." he said with a pleased smirk.
Sometimes I was really impressed by how much he made an effort just to upset me. But I would never tell him that. He probably was aware of it anyway.
"Sorry for stalking you, but Kris Jenner wants you down in the kitchen." I said and glanced around his room. It always looked the same.
"You were thinking it too. I seriously don't understand why women must change themselves so often. I hate it. You're so unpredictable." he muttered, tossing his phone on his bed.
I wanted to laugh. Makoto was the one with the personality disorder so I didn't see why changing one's haircut was that big of a deal.
Maybe I should shave my head?
My gaze happened to land on his computer which was turned on for a change. I had never actually seen him using it. He was always reading books.
"What are you doing there?" I asked and walked towards it. Makoto suddenly approached me abruptly after putting on a different shirt. It was purple.
"What's it to you?" he asked, his olive eyes trying to frighten me. I tilted my head to the side.
"You're hiding something." I guessed, suspicious by his odd behaviour.
Makoto snorted and looked away.
"Whatever." he muttered. "Let's go downstairs."
"If you're not hiding anything then why aren't you showing me what you're doing on the computer?" I asked, ignoring his wish to go downstairs. I almost annoyed myself with my words, but Makoto looked unimpressed.
"What would I ever hide from you?" he cooed softly, raising his hand to stroke the side of my face, the exact same place his mom had touched me earlier.
I grabbed his hand, holding it still.
"It's porn." I stated with a straight face, almost entirely convinced.
Makoto let out a guffaw.
"As if!" he exclaimed. "Why would I need that when I can get laid whenever I choose with whoever I want?" he asked, and ripped his hand out from my hold and away from my face.
We both glared at each other awkwardly. Obviously Makoto had said something he didn't really want to say, and something that I really didn't want to hear.
"Fine. But if you tell mom, I'll bury you alive." he said with furrowed brows, and surprisingly he actually stepped aside and gave me permission to snoop.
I sneaked towards his computer and squinted my eyes at the screen. It was a very banal website that looked like a Word document without any designed theme or pictures or even commercial adds.
"'Local mercenaries core and lab for professional street fighting'?" I read out loud.
"It's a place where guys arrange fights with bets." Makoto explained in simple language with his arms crossed over his chest.
It sounded really corny. And insane.
"That's where I'll be later this evening." he added.
"You'll fight?" I asked him, moving away from the computer like it was something dangerous lurking inside it.
He just nodded like it wasn't that much of a deal and my eyes darted away.
"What for?" I asked, thinking about it deeply. It was madness.
"Money." he answers smugly.
"Yes, because obviously, you're down at heel." I said, opening up my arms to show off his enormous room to him.
Makoto pushed himself off from the wall.
"It's a hobby, stupid. Hara and Furuhashi tags along too." he bent down and pulled out a drawer from underneath his bed and threw it down in front of my feet. It was filled with wrinkled money and other valuables like watches and apple devices.
"Your brother need a phone? Consider it as a gift." Makoto bragged.
"I won't give him anything that you've stolen." I refused, not wanting to involve my little brother in that.
"Won." he corrected gently with a finger in the air.
"It's literally pure bloodmoney." I told him, not liking the concept of this at all.
"Don't you have anything else to do Makoto?" I asked and looked at him, not wanting to see that drawer anymore in my life.
"I knew it." he said, kicking the drawer back underneath his bed. He looked down at me, flipping away the black bangs from his eyes.
"You're worried." he affirmed. Completely convinced, like I was when I accused him of having porn on his computer.
Only that he had pulled the right nerve in me.
I sniffed and swallowed and looked away.
"Let's go downstairs." I said and headed towards the hall with the pretty table lamp, hoping that Miss Hanamiya wouldn't have to turn it on this evening.
"Is everything alright sweetheart?"
At first, I didn't know I was the person who got asked that question. In company with Miss Hanamiya, I was always in my best mood. I looked up from my tea and met her gaze after stirring the hot water with a silver spoon.
"You are unusually quiet." she told me, but she looked more curious than concerned.
"What? No no, I just. Not at all, I'm fine." I waffled.
Her phone started ringing in the other room then, just in time for my rescue.
"Will you excuse me for a moment. It must be the doctor." She smiled apologetically at us both and stood up from her seat.
When Makoto's mother left the kitchen, Makoto poked me in the side gently from where he was seated next to me.
"You're acting suspicious. Cut it out." he said bitterly, reaching for the can of milk. I glared at him.
"I can't believe your hobby is fighting for money." I whispered to him angrily.
"Fighting for fun." he corrected and poured milk in his tea with such delicateness that it was hard to believe this young gentleman would ever harm someone.
I let out a sigh and adjusted the porcelain set in front of me.
"What if she finds out? What will you do then?" I asked.
"You wouldn't dare telling on me, Romanoff." he muttered close to my ear while putting the can of milk back on the table.
"That's not what I meant, get out of my face, and don't call me that." I muttered back. "I mean, what if she finds out in general?"
Makoto rolled his eyes after giving me space.
"She won't find out- (he made rabbit ears with his fingers and changed his voice to a stupid one) 'in general'." he said, mocking my choice in words, exaggerating his pronouncement and grabbed his teacup.
"Not unless you're stupid enough to actually tell her." he hurriedly added before taking a sip of his Russian tea.
"What if you get hurt?" I asked. My voice had suddenly turned concerned and I had a hard time drinking my tea as easily as the basketball captain.
"Then you'll lick my wounds for me, wouldn't you, Romanoff?" he crooned in a sentimental, low tone, his hand going down underneath the table to rub my thigh.
I was so indifferent that I didn't even bother him doing that.
"Worry about yourself. You're holding onto a very delicate secret you know..." he said. "Be careful."
I looked at him and our gazes met. He was smiling at me, and I didn't know if I should smile back or not. It didn't feel like the right thing to do in this moment.
His mother came back into the kitchen. Makoto's hand snatched away from my leg and hit the underside of the table. I held my breath, trying not to laugh at him hurting himself.
"I've spoken to Doctor Shigure now, and your medication will be able to get received on Monday." she said to her son, and I couldn't help but look at him in disharmonious curiosity.
"Medication?" I asked, but Makoto didn't seem interested in talking about this at all. He had completely ignored his mother.
"You haven't told Lydia about this?" his mother asked in mild concern as she sat down again, grabbing the can of hot water. Makoto got annoyed. He clicked his tongue and leaned back in his chair.
"And why exactly would that information interest her?" he asked and waved a pale hand at me nonchalantly.
His mother looked at him, deeply in thought. She was almost frowning. Almost.
Makoto sighed under his mother's stare and his head lollied to his side and he looked at me.
"I have gotten stress-related heart palpitations so I need meds." he said calmly and my eyes widened at these sudden news. I left the silver spoon next to the cup on the table and put my hands in my lap.
Makoto only smirked at my perplexed reaction. But then, he sniffed and bit his bottom lip. His thick brows turned upwards in distress.
"And… I only got two weeks left to live." he said like he was about to cry.
"MAKOTO!" Miss Hanamiya stood up sharply, the porcelain rattling around on the table. Makoto chuckled, putting his large basketball-hands in front of him.
"Calm down mom. I was just kidding." he said, back to his gentle self.
"That's the problem; I don't want to hear such jokes in my house." she said in a strict voice that even managed to intimidate me.
I sat there awkwardly, taking a sip of my tea. It was cold.
I understood his mother. I would react equally if my only son was joking about his death in that careless way.
"Sit down mom." Makoto said after a while and she shook her head at him, but sat down slowly.
"I'm sorry, Lydia. Don't mind my son." she said, giving me an apologetic look.
"Yes, don't mind me." Makoto chimed and took a slurp of his tea. I wondered if his was cold too.
Miss Hanamiya gave Makoto another glare before looking at me once more.
"It's not very serious, but I still think that it's important to bring up because we're such a small family. And since you're here so often, it's only fair for you to know." she said, and I felt how warmth entered through every fibre of my being.
Makoto put down his cup and looked at me.
"You want to read my diary from middle school too?" he asked sarcastically.
His mother didn't even bother with him that time.
"That's why I waited for the doctor to call today. Well, now… Shall I put on another pot of tea?" she asked, managing a smile.
I nodded my head and smiled back at her.
But inside, I was aggressively hoping that Makoto's heart would work like the average.
Or at least like a healthy heart should.
I lay in bed. Time 01:59, and I had school in only a few hours.
And Makoto got his stress-related heart palpitations. He didn't have just a two weeks to live, but I still had the right to be worried about him.
Having a heart that isn't perfectly healthy whilst being the manager and the captain of an entire basketball team and being in the disciplinary committee and keeping secrets from one's mother didn't seem very great.
Makoto and his secrets.
I wondered if he had gone to that fight? Nonsense. Of course he had. He had told me he would so he would. But how did it go? I wondered if he was at home now, and whether the lamp in the hall was lit or not.
This was ridiculous.
I sat up in bed and grabbed my phone and called him.
One signal. Two. Three.
He was awake.
Four.
He must be.
Five.
He's dead.
"Romanoff. What do you want?"
His voice spoke to me through the phone like he was in another dimension.
"I can't sleep." I said. It was the first thing I came to think about.
It was silent on the other line for a little while.
"I told you not to worry about me."
He sounded awfully kind. I wondered if he was alone.
"Where are you?" I asked him, looking around my dark room.
"I just left Hara's."
Good! That was a good answer. I think.
"You're going home, right?" I asked him.
"Where else should I go, school? It's the middle of the night idiot."
I smiled and closed my eyes. I heard him chuckle all of the sudden.
"I made a twenty-nine-year-old cry." he said.
"Goodnight thug life." I said, rolling my eyes.
"Go to sleep Lydia, and be proud of me dammit!"
Click.
I lay down slowly, the phone still in my hand.
It was horrible and tragic, but I would go to sleep.
And I would be a little bit proud of him.