As Told By Uryuu
Author's note: It's written for a fanfic writing challenge at Senkaimon LJ Comm (go check it if you have time, pretty neat comm with great stories), but it's written like, a month ago. I'm just slow with updating my archive. Of course, again, for everyone's enjoyment.
If there's something about Japan's gradual change in norms, it must be the maximum level of accepted public displays of affection. Ishida Uryuu was sitting at the edge of a seat in a train back to Tokyo from an academic seminar in Okinawa and there were three couples, one each on his right, front and left in that overcrowded train. He was reading the latest book from Salman Rushdie but it failed to distract him from the recurring coos of the ladies, or the gentle flirtations from the guys, or the sudden movement of those people standing so close to him.
That was one of the times where he had wished that the Japanese transit system hadn't thought of designing any noise reduction device; because at least with the roaring sound of the speeding train he wouldn't be able to realize that there were such things happening around him.
Wait.
You might have misunderstood Uryuu. He's not an ultra-conservative bookworm who couldn't get a girl on his own that he has to spat resentment over other people's happy moments. But it was a small space overloaded with human traffic and private moments. And it's Christmas Eve. Japanese people loves Christmas Eve; no worries about whether or not you'll receive homemade chocolates (if you're a guy) and no worried about whether he will willingly accept your homemade chocolate (for girls). It's an occasion for romance to bloom further in an already-blooming romance; or at least as far as the more positive ones go.
Speaking of Christmas, Uryuu remembered an occasion in his final year at high school where a junior (who, prior to the occasion had approached him one too many times – the first because she wished for an inspirational talk on academics; the second was on the idiosyncrasies of Physics; the third and subsequent ones were for the idiosyncrasies of the many subjects offered in the Japanese high school education system) had surprised him with a pink woolen muffler she knitted herself just a few days before the holiday itself.
"Please accept my gift, Ishida-sempai!" she said.
As you might have guessed, Uryuu was not only surprised, he was petrified at that gesture. Not that he was that much of a heartthrob as he knew it (if only he knew that the term nerdophilia existed underground Karakura High School); he also didn't expect himself to be this surprised. It's not that he hadn't realized what her real reasons were for approaching him; he just would rather avoid this complication.
"I know you have someone, Ishida-sempai, but I wanted to thank you." She was so enthusiastic.
In a usual Uryuu manner, he replied with some appreciation for the….handiwork. "Great threads you have, just the right thickness and the fabric would definitely keep one warm."
"I know you would rather have one from Inoue-sempai, and I'm totally fine with it!"
You think that mortified Uryuu? See the next line.
"Ishida-sempai would have made a move if it wasn't for Kurosaki, right?"
Not that he cares what happened between Kurosaki and Inoue, but really, listening to a junior saying that was rather uncomfortable.
Of course, it was cut short with Uryuu reluctantly accepted that pink muffler she gave (but never used); and Uryuu was taken aback by a question raised by his own memory that he had never really answered.
What if there wasn't Kurosaki?
At one too many times (he's 20 at the moment of this story, you didn't know?) he had been asked the inevitable questions about his rather shady lovelife by people he met in University because some rather lovely girls happened to be spotted in his usual clique.
"Ah, Ishida-san sure is a wonderful man, right? He's so smart, and handsome! But he has a girlfriend…"
Girls are the same no matter how prestigious the university you attend, and Uryuu learnt the hard way. Nevertheless he had to admit that the last thing about him having a girlfriend, while false, did do him favours. He'd rather not have the attention if they were to be superficial about it.
The train slowed down, with the female voice of the announcer announcing the name of the station they were about to leave. Uryuu packed his books into his bag and raised, his hand clutching on the handbar, preparing to leave the train and the crowd of over-romantic couples.
Inoue was waiting in front of the station.
"Hey, Ishida-kun!"
He had asked her for a dinner together, and she agreed. Things have changed since they grew up; leaving teenage awkwardness behind them, sharing unbreakable bonds that transcended gender. It's not uncommon to see Sado and Inoue or Tatsuki having a drink at the nearest ramen stall. Or even Kurosaki and Uryuu … though it always ended up with them having a go at each other over the pettiest thing available. Like the colour of Uryuu's shirt, or the size of Kurosaki's bracelet, or the amount of books he's borrowing per week … and so on.
Uryuu smiled at her, head gesturing towards their usual hangout place, their favourite Ichiraku Ramen stall, which served the best hot and cold ramen.
Inoue jabbered about her school, her subjects and her fellow college mates; Uryuu had only one thing in his mind.
Inoue's crush on Kurosaki wasn't something you could identify as the secret of the century, and Uryuu's closeness to her had, more often than not, spurred unlikely stories about the three of them.
There was even once when it was rumoured that Uryuu was so jealous of Kurosaki, he sabotaged his essay that was to be entered as a literature competition among the schools in Tokyo. The truth was that Renji and Rukia got married the night before the submission date and Kurosaki (drunken one; they had conveniently forgotten being underage since they were … technically not human at time of alcohol consumption) screamed "SCREW THAT" on top of his lungs just to yell "WHAT THE HELL?" the day after in the same magnitude upon learning about his unfinished masterpiece.
Still, the fact remained that he cared for Inoue. She's the one that he would go through hell for without hesitation. And she cared for him. She was always the first to notice his tumultuous feelings for his future, his family and his obligations. With her it's always simple, no second thoughts, no holding back.
He watched her as she clasped her hands together and exclaimed "Itadakimasu!" to start her ramen-eating spree and followed suit.
The answer to his own question is unbelievably simple too, he supposed.
He didn't care for her because he wanted her to the same. He cares for her because he knew he could help her, and she the same.
He would tell her the time is right, just not now when she's indulging ramen like she had never eaten the whole day.
Then he remembered that she did tell him she hadn't eaten the whole day, when he was busy with his own thoughts.