Yamamoto Megumi didn't understand herself sometimes. For example, why could she not sing, even though she was supposed to have the genes of Yamamoto Rin, international superstar?
Why could she not make a perfect bento, even though she had seen Akira make one a thousand times?
Most of all, however, why couldn't she fall out of love with someone, even when he treated her like a piece of gum that had gotten stuck onto the bottom of his shoe? She just couldn't let him go.
She was hopelessly, madly, ridiculously in love with Saiga Yahiro. And it just wasn't fair.
Why did he have to be so… so…? She frowned.
It was hard to find a good adjective for Yahiro. After all, one of his biggest issues was that he was a liar. A big one, since he had kept Akira in the dark for so many years, making her believe that he had simply broken up her best girl friendship out of spite, when he was actually protecting her. Also, he was mean. He enjoyed teasing Megumi and it just was not nice!
So he was a sadistic liar. Sometimes, Megumi really could not understand herself. When she was younger, she always imagined dating someone kind of like Papa, who was warm, or someone like Ryuu, who was strong and protective, or even someone like Jun, who was understanding and gentle. She never thought she could fall in love with such a stereotypical bad boy.
"Yo."
Megumi's train of thought was broken and her head snapped up as Saiga Yahiro seated himself across from her. She blinked in confusion and slight surprise. She hadn't heard him entering.
"Hey now," Yahiro smirked. "Where's your happy greeting? After all, your precious loved one is here, isn't he?"
Megumi turned a rather lovely shade of fuchsia and quickly scribbled on her magic slate.
\Hi. Thanks for coming./
He shrugged. "Yeah, well I didn't have anything else to do."
Megumi hid a smile. Even though he said that, the two of them had faithfully been meeting every Saturday, 2:00, at the same café they had gone to on their first, uh, date.
\What do you want to do today?/
"You know, you ask me that every week," Yahiro leaned back arrogantly. "But in the end, we never really do anything fun."
\Do you want to watch a movie?/
"Seen 'em all."
\Sing karaoke?/
"With you? No thanks."
\Have a walk?/
"I just walked all the way here," he rolled his eyes.
\Then… do you want to cook something with me?/
"…cook?"
"Ah!" Megumi exclaimed. "Yahiro, look out! The pot is bubbling over!"
Yahiro swiftly removed the lid and the golden stew burbled down. He turned to her, scowling.
"Stop using your voice," he ordered sternly. "You know how important it is for you to protect it."
She swiftly whirled around so that he couldn't see her blushing. It was good that she had brought him to the Special A's kitchen after all. No one was there that day so they could be alone… just the two of them.
\Thank you… Yahiro./
He stared, then snorted. "Don't get the wrong idea."
She smiled and began to slice the carrots as Yahiro stirred the curry. For a minute, there was a soft, sweet silence between them as they worked simultaneously.
"I didn't know you knew how to make curry," Yahiro chuckled. "You always seemed kind of like a klutz in the kitchen."
Megumi puffed her cheeks out indignantly.
\I am going to make the best-tasting curry ever and then you'll have to take your words back!/
"Uh-huh, sure," he teased, and he had to dodge as she brandished a wooden spoon at him.
\It's done!/ Megumi smiled hopefully as the curry was ladled onto gleaming plates, with steaming bowls of rice on the side.
"Who's to say it tastes good, Megumi?" he teased. She glared at him as he seated himself.
She eagerly sat across from him, and after bowing her head (Itadakimasu), she began to eat. Yahiro stopped after the first bite.
"Eh. Not that great," he said offhandedly, clearly trying to push her buttons. Megumi's ears were practically blowing steam out.
\What are you talking about? It's wonderful!/
"I've had better," Yahiro said arrogantly.
\I'll have you know, Akira taught me how to make this perfectly!/
Megumi instantly regretted the moment she turned the board around to show Yahiro what she had written. His expression changed in an instant.
"This is… the curry Akira taught you how to make?"
Megumi lowered her head, berating herself. Why did she have to remind him of his most painful memory?
He managed a small grin. "I see."
He continued to eat, but Megumi saw his hand shaking.
"Y- Yahiro?" she asked tentatively.
"Don't use your voice, stupid," he retorted without looking up.
"Y- Yahiro, I'm sorry, I didn't-"
"I said, don't use your voice."
Megumi whipped out the board and began to scribble on it.
\Yahiro… I didn't mean to mention Akira./
"What do you care?" he muttered. Megumi felt a stab of pain as she gazed at the light-haired boy.
\I care. Of course I care about you, Yahiro./
"No you don't."
\I do./
"You just want to make sure your precious SA doesn't get hurt," he sneered. She shook her head.
\That's true, but… I'm not lying when I say I care about you./
"Oh yeah?"
Yahiro's eyes took on a gleam, almost maniacally.
"If you really love me…"
Megumi slowly inched away as he came closer.
"…"
…
"…"
…
"…get me a glass of water. This curry is spicy."
Megumi's eyes widened and she immediately puffed out her cheeks.
\What kind of request is that?!/
"Stupid," he chortled. "You don't really think I'll believe you that easily?"
\I'll prove it to you./
He paused. Now that, he hadn't been expecting.
"All right," he smirked. "Go right ahead, Yamamoto Megumi. Let's see how you can prove this oh-so-great love of yours to me."
Megumi swallowed.
\Agreed./