just a short ride away
"Do you need a ride home?" – AyaYouko. Slight AU
because we all have the tendency to look exactly where we're supposed to at exactly the right moment, even if it's just once – that's all you really need, anyway
Saturdays are her favourite days.
Aya thinks it's cliché – everybody's favourite day is either Saturday or Sunday, after all – but she likes Saturdays for a different reason. One that has nothing to do with a short trip to the hot springs, or the notion of it finally being the weekend, or even sleeping in until twelve or later.
On the contrary: on Saturdays, Aya wakes up even earlier than usual. Her alarm clock rings once before she's out of bed; five minutes later she finds herself on the balcony outside her room, clutching a cup of hot chocolate in a desperate attempt to warm her fingers. Holding her breath, she waits.
The figure appears on the horizon like it always does: neither early nor late during that indeterminate time that is early morning, radiating energy to rival the sun. Aya exhales forcefully, a little white cloud that dissipates in the morning air. She's always scared the figure won't come, but it does, every time.
She stands – to see better or as a type of salute she doesn't know – and watches in awe as the girl on her bicycle speeds past like does every Saturday. She looks so… alive, and not for the first time, Aya wonders if it has something to do with her bright red hair that sticks out of the back of her bicycle helmet, or maybe that grin of hers that splits her face in half. Resigning herself to never knowing, she finishes her drink and heads inside.
She isn't sure what started this ritual of hers. She doesn't even remember seeing the girl for the first time, but she still spends every Saturday morning staring at the horizon, willing the girl to appear.
There's something about her that just makes Saturdays for Aya. The sounds of spokes and a kickstand being pushed down as hello's are doled out along with the parcels and letters she brings. The intense concentration on her face as she pedals up the slope. Even though Aya has never had to receive anything from her, these are the things she remembers.
"Obsessed!" Karen shouts, spraying little bits of… something Aya really hopes is edible, considering the way it's disappearing into the blonde girl.
Alice picks at her side dishes, nodding a little embarrassedly. "It seems a little… intense," she agrees.
Aya sighs. Of course it would come across like this. Spending every Saturday morning in the cold for just a glimpse of someone practically borders on stalkerish tendencies.
"It's not bad, though!" Shino, ever the optimist, pipes up. "Doesn't that just mean you want to get to know her?"
"Oh, yes!" Karen joins in, "And once you do, she can come and sweep you off your feet and say 'I'll be yours forever, so be mine, too!' while holding you close, and as she comes nearer you –"
By this time, Aya's face is the colour of the red cross on Karen's UK hoodie and her hands are over her ears. "I – i – i – it… it's not like I want her to do any of that!"
Looks of disbelief from all over the room.
"I just…"
What, exactly?
"Alice," Shino interrupts, "isn't there a girl with red hair in your class?"
Alice looks up. "Mm. She sits behind me. Um… Inu… Ino… Inokuma Youko!" she squeaks. "She comes to school by bike every morning. What colour is your girl's bike, Aya?"
Yes, because she's looking at the bicycle.
"Blue… with a silver design." God only knows how she knows that.
Alice smiles shyly. "Inokuma-san's bike is blue, too."
"Sounds like the beginning of a romance story!" Karen grins, little bits of hopefully-it-wasn't-poisonous stuck between her teeth.
And even though she never thought her love life would be anything other than boring or made-up, Aya can't help but agree that maybe she can imagine her happy end after all.
"You'll have to get over your shyness, though," Shino adds.
In the classroom, the sound of shattering can be heard.
Youko bows and says her goodbyes before closing the staff room door. The clock on her cellphone reads just past five. Just on time, then, she thinks jokingly. She isn't usually this late, but forgotten English homework plus a sick Alice equal an extra hour with the dictionary, checking every second word of her essay.
Youko sighs as she yanks her bike free from the stands, nudging the kickstand up with her foot. She's just about to push off when a lone figure sitting at the school entrance catches her eye. She smiles.
"Komichi-san!" Youko calls, waving with her one arm and holding the bike with the other.
She knows the name the way she knows everybody's name: a combination of listening to gossip and watching human interactions. Quite a useful skill in her line of part-time work, really, since people like you more when you complain about something other than the weather.
Komichi Aya. Youko knows of her, but she's never spoken to her. Dark hair in twintails. Blue eyes like the sea. A name that never leaves the top five on the rankings board. The brick-and-cream house with the six trees in a row about halfway down her Saturday route. All of these come to mind.
She prefers not to formulate opinions of people before she gets to know them, so except for the fact that she is pretty, some combination of smart and hardworking, and where she lives, Youko knows very little about her.
Time to find out, she thinks, and pushes her bike forward.
Aya wishes she had brought a torch.
Or maybe a lantern. Karen keeps saying she should let down her hair and let her put on some stage make-up for Hallowe'en; add the lantern in and she could be a gruesome monster out to eat people. She shudders at the thought.
Still, the lantern would be nice round about now. Her ride won't be around for another four hours – her parents have a gala event for a charity they support – and she doesn't have enough money on her to pay for a taxi. Her house is close enough to walk there, but her new shoes are digging painfully into her heels. She doesn't think she could endure the pain for the two hours it would take to get there.
And now it's getting dark. She'd go sit in a classroom if she weren't scared of being locked in. It feels awkward asking to sit in the staff room. Alice and Karen and Shino have already left. So, in the relative safety and dim light of the school entrance, Aya waits.
Until she hears her name.
Nobody really calls her by her surname, except for the teachers. She tries to talk to as few people as possible, so her circle of friends remains small and therefore, the group people who call her by her first name remains small, too.
Aya looks to her right – the direction the voice is coming from – and scrambles away in shock. It's her.
Inokuma Youko.
Her Saturday morning girl.
She leaves her bike some ways off before approaching Aya, eyebrows nearer to hair hairline than her eyes as she takes in the sight before her. She's never had to deal with people cringing away from her – what is she supposed to do?
Youko stops about three metres away, rubbing a hand around the back of her neck. She smiles sheepishly, then bites her lip.
"Um…" she trails off. What was she going to ask again?
Aya looks up at a worried face. It looks out of place on her. She needs to smile. She…
Aya sits up.
Youko's lip twitches. Then her face splits in half with her special grin. "Do you need a ride home?"
This is weird, Aya thinks for what is possibly the sixth time in half as many minutes. She has to correct herself each time, because weird and unexpected are different words, at least according to Alice, but they're both adjectives, so does it really matter? She can just imagine Karen waving it off with a laugh and her patented 'Close enough!' and desperately tries to wish it away. When did she end up thinking like Karen?
It is still a little… odd, though. Aya can't see herself agreeing to anybody's offer of 'Do you need a ride home?', but here she is, watching as Inokuma Youko secures her bag to her bicycle's framework. Finally finished, she motions for Aya to get on the bike and just as she braces herself for the extra weight… nothing happens.
Youko turns around to find an Aya-less luggage rack. "Komichi-san?" she begins tentatively. "Would you rather wait here? I can stay if you –"
"No!" Aya surprises herself. She barely ever talks, let alone shouts. But this is important. It needs proper emphasis. "It's just… I – I don't know how to get on," she murmurs.
The sound of a guffaw followed by a stifled snicker pulls Aya out of her embarrassment. It stops as soon as she looks up, but the way Youko is trying to contain herself gives her away. In a fit of generosity, Aya forgives her.
A little while later, Youko rummages around the bike's handlebars before presenting Aya with a bicycle helmet. "I only have one, so you wear it. Can't have that IQ dropping, right?"
Aya makes no motion to take the helmet, so Youko opens the clip and places it gently on her head before closing the clip again and tightening the strap. She takes a step back to view her handiwork before making so-so movements with her head, "Eh, it's a little awkward, but it'll have to do. Does it feel okay? Not uncomfortable or anything? Just adjust it if something's wrong. And… Komichi-san?"
Underneath her oversized helmet, Aya blushes. "N – n – nothing! It's nothing! I, um, thank you! Ah…" she stops when she sees that smile again.
Youko motions for Aya to get on the bike, and she does, a little reluctantly. How is she supposed to stay on if there's nothing to –
"Grab onto me so you don't fall off!" comes Youko's voice from in front of her. In accordance with this command, Aya clutches a fistful of shirt in each hand.
"That's not going to help much. Hold on tighter." Aya fists her hands tighter.
Youko sighs and reaches behind her, roughly grabbing her forearms and pulling them around her waist. "Hold on like that, and don't let go!" she throws over her shoulder before pushing off into the evening.
Youko's back is warm.
The only reason Aya knows this is because her cheek is pressed against it, along with half her shoulder and chest. She's blushing enough to make her think she might be the source of heat, but Youko hasn't said anything, so that can't be true.
They turn a curve – the one Youko would usually take a right at – towards Aya's house, and only then does she realise how much of an inconvenience she's being. She shouldn't have accepted the offer, because her house is in the opposite direction, because it's far away, because she can't exactly ask Youko to stay because the literally just met, because –
Youko smiles over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of dark hair against an even darker sky, strands whipping in the wind. She doesn't turn any more for fear of losing sight of the road, but shrugs her shoulders to move her back so the feeling can be conveyed anyway. Aya responds by pressing her face harder between the other girl's shoulder blades.
They ride on in silence.
And just when Aya thinks her life is free of clichés (besides Stalker Saturdays, of course), she finds herself at the gate of her house, wishing the ride had taken longer than – she checks her phone – thirty-four minutes. It seems like no time has passed.
Youko pushes down the kickstand and waits for Aya to get off. "I'll wait until you're inside," she says while untying Aya's bag from the framework. "I have to be home soon, too."
Aya feels incredibly guilty as she hands the helmet back to Youko. "I-Inokuma-san, I'm –"
She's stopped by hands waving frantically in her face. "Don't be sorry! I wanted to help. Actually..." She hunts around in her pockets before brandishing a permanent marker, with which she writes a sequence of letters and numbers on Aya's hand. "There," she proclaims as she caps the marker, "for if you need a ride again. Just call! I do deliveries on Saturdays, so it's no hassle!"
"I know," Aya mumbles before she can stop herself.
"You know?"
"I – i – it's not like I'm watching you or anything! Just happenstance and… such…" Aya trails off, unable to convince even herself. This is bad, this is bad, this is bad, this is bad, this is –
"Okay," Youko smiles, because, really, what else can she do? "So you know that whenever you need transport, you just call, yeah?"
Aya nods. "Thank you, Inokuma-san."
"Youko. Nobody calls me 'Inokuma-san'. Youko's fine." She glances at Aya's phone, eyes widening at the time displayed there. "I have to get home! They'll eat dinner without me!" Throwing another grin Aya's way, Youko lifts her kickstand and turns the bike around. "I'll see you around, Komichi-san!"
"It's Aya!" she shouts at Youko's disappearing form from the other side of the gate.
"Bye, Aya!" the reply comes, already much farther off than expected.
The sound of whirring spokes and furious pedalling is long gone by the time she whispers, "Bye, Youko," wishing it was already Saturday.
Author's Note: Thoughts?