One
Those eyes are not unlike emeralds—the same shade of brilliant green as his hair. Yet they are sharp and condescending, staring down at her through those thick-rimmed spectacles. She is pretty sure that she has seen them before, but she cannot match a memory to the sense of familiarity she gets from them.
"Midorima, please take Suoh to the nurse's office," the teacher says with a sigh.
"I-I can take her!" another girl pipes in.
"No, Tanaka, you need to clean up the mess."
Ayame peers down at her hands, palms and fingers littered with narrow cuts. Her skin is discolored by the scarlet liquid. The stinging pain brings a numbing calm over her, and she lets out a shaky breath, as though relishing in the moment.
Her actions earn her a disproving – perhaps disgusted – stare from the green-haired man who has been left with the task of escorting her. Perhaps he begrudges the coincidence of the two of them being in the same hallway together. Although he is technically to blame for this whole mishap which happened just moments prior.
She had been carrying a glass bowl, and he had backed into her, knocking it from her hands. Despite instructions not to concern herself with the mess until a broom had been retrieved, she had taken it upon herself to purposefully gather the shards. It was no accident that she crushed them into her fists, creating the various wounds that now cover both of her hands. It seems as though no one else noticed, although she did catch those emerald irises peering down at her.
"You aren't going to say anything to the teacher? Going to pretend that it was an accident?" she probes with a hint of curiosity to her voice as she examines the self-inflicted wounds while the two traipse down one of the empty side hallways.
"For what purpose?" he counters.
A hint of a smile ghosts her lips as she strolls up beside him, peeking into his face. "Ah, you're the one from that time, aren't you? Peeping in on my piano playing?"
"I was hardly peeping," he snarks back. "You left the door open."
"So you do remember me. I made an impression." That remark earns her a quirked brow, as though he cannot fathom why she seems to be so proud of herself. Perhaps he is equally perplexed as to why she has purposefully wounded both of her hands so severely so as to require first aid. Ayame does not answer that unspoken question, however. She merely flashes him a grin.
When they arrive at the nurse's office, Midorima appears chagrined to discover that the nurse is out. Perhaps feeling responsible since the teacher has delegated the duty to him, he instructs Ayame to sit down while he retrieves the necessary bandages and antiseptic.
Ayame settles down on the edge of an unoccupied bed, staring down into her palms while she waits. The blood has begun to coagulate, leaving behind hideous splotches that mar her skin. She smiles to herself, as though proud.
"You won't be able to play piano."
The sound of his voice stirs her back to awareness and she beams up at him as he takes a seat on the opposing bed. "That is the point, right? I don't have to play piano. That's a relief."
"A relief..." He echoes her words with a furrowed brow but does not comment further. Instead he takes one of her hands in his and starts applying the necessary first aid. The medicine stings and earns him a grimace from her.
"You seem pretty good at this stuff," she commends facetiously. "Maybe you should think about being a school nurse and forget basketball."
The fact that she is aware of his status on the basketball team may come as a surprise, but if it does, his impassive facade does a good job of hiding it Instead he simply dismisses his work by saying, "This is simple first aid. Everyone should know how to do it."
"Well, then again, you cover your fingers in bandages all the time, so it only makes sense."
His gaze briefly flits between the wound that he is tending to and her eyes. The frown on his face does not disappear for a moment, however. He seems intent on finishing up so that he can leave as quickly as possible.
"Hey, that key chain–"
"Lucky item," he answers before she can even finish her sentence. "I always carry the lucky item of the day."
"Oha asa?" she guesses in surprise.
His eyes narrow as though he is surprised, or perhaps suspicious, that she knows of it.
Ayame's lips crease in another grin. "Ahaha, who knew that the shooting guard of our school was so superstitious? That's really cute, Shin-kun."
He flinches at the use of that nickname, and only a moment later she receives a glare for it – as though he does not see them on familiar enough terms for her to be calling him such. In order to emphasize that point, he even says, "Suoh-san. You should wait here for the nurse to take a look. I'm leaving." Perhaps he dismisses arguing the point of Oha Asa being superstition because she makes him uncomfortable. Whatever the reason, he seems eager enough to leave.
"You don't have to be in that much of a hurry, Shin-kun. Or would you prefer Shinta-kun?"
Rather than pay her antics any further heed, he disappears out the door while completely ignoring her. Ayame chortles to herself in his absence, admiring the work that he has done on her hands. The bandages seem perfectly wrapped, neither too tight nor too loose. "You're pretty good with your hands, Shin-kun," she mumbles to herself in admiration. "Green, huh... I like that. Green is my new favorite color."
—
"Ayame-chan, you're being called to the teacher's office." Tanaka is wearing that characteristic, perpetually worried expression on her face again. For a best friend, she has a bad habit of being overbearing and overprotective.
"I'm wanted, huh? Doesn't sound like it's good news. Well, thanks, Chiharu. I'll see you after school." Considering the day is about growing to a close, Ayame can guess she will be detained for the last twenty minutes that remain until the bell rings. She figures that she already knows what this is about anyways.
It is perhaps unlucky coincidence that when she arrives and is about to enter, the door suddenly swings open and nearly knocks her in the face. She takes a step back to avoid it, mildly surprised at the green hair that ducks out of the office.
"Ah, it's Shin-kun," she remarks with glee.
He does not look nearly as happy to see her. His expression remains stoic as he gazes at her momentarily, a stack of papers held in his hands. It seems as though he is being sent on errands for his class – not something particularly unusual with the advent of the cultural festival. "Suoh-san, I would prefer if you did not pretend that we are familiar in the hallways," he tells her.
Her forehead creases. "Hm? What's wrong with that? Are you embarrassed by me?"
"Suoh, is that you?" a teacher pipes in, peeking out from the opened door, where Midorima is still standing in the way of her entering. "Hurry up, your music advisor has been waiting for you."
"I can already tell this is going to be a pleasant conversation," she responds sarcastically, though the deceptive tone of her voice is probably enough to fool the teacher at least. Midorima does not look half as convinced, however.
"You... what is your sign?"
She can already guess as to why he is asking, and she finds herself grinning. "Of course it would only make sense if we're polar opposites, right? The sign that you should probably avoid like the plague today. The one that is coooompletely incompatible with yours." Although she exaggerates, he does not seem to discount that she is telling the truth. It is easy enough to see upfront that the two have little in common and that their personalities can easily conflict.
"I see... then you are..."
He is interrupted in the middle of his sentence as she brushes past him, nearly knocking the stack of paper from his hands. "Excuuuse me, Shin-kun~ I have a meeting, you know? I'll see you later though!" She gives him a stiff salute before laughing and disappearing within the teacher's office.
As soon as her advisor spots her, he motions for her to take a seat. "I heard you injured your hands today in an accident," he says gruffly. Judging by the expression on his face, he does not seem so inclined to believe that it was not self-sabotage she committed on purpose. That gives the impression that this is not the first time she has done such.
"Hm, that sounds right. An accident." She grins up at him as she settles into her seat.
"That's enough of your games!" he bellows back. "Your parents have placed all their time, effort, and money into this since you were a child! You are being groomed to enter the musical world as a prodigy – to go abroad where your talent can be recognized. Why must you insist on ruining it for yourself? On destroying all the effort that everyone has put into it to see that you will succeed?"
Her gaze wanders all across the room and she seems utterly content to ignore this entire lecture. Ayame has heard it dozens of times before. Being yelled at is like a routine; it is not a normal school year if she manages to get out of it without hearing the same spiel three or four times.
"Ayame!"
Everyone else in the office grows eerily silent at the sound of his yelling, but she seems completely unaffected. "Hm? What's up?" she responds, completely nonchalant.
"This next performance is the difference between whether you stay in Japan and flounder, or you go abroad and make a successful career. I don't want your immaturity and your insecurities to blow it. Stop holding yourself back, stop disappointing your parents. This is your final chance!"
"Good. I'm glad it's the last one. So then when I screw it up, you can't get mad anymore, because it will all be over. And my parents will finally give up on me—or who knows? Maybe they'll disown me. Can I go now?"
His exasperation can hardly be conveyed in words and he finally settles on breathing a reluctant, shaky sigh. It is obvious that he is barely containing his anger with her. This is neither the first (nor most likely the last) time he has grown livid with her antics. Finally he settles on his last words to her, "Fine, Ayame. You can go. But keep in mind that it is your life you are ruining and no one elses."
"That's nice. Bye-bye, Koyama-san." She gives him an exuberant wave and smile before marching out of the office. Yet as soon as the door slams behind her, all traces of cheer melt away and she seems almost crestfallen. It is only a moment of vulnerability and she is certain no one else sees it, at least until she lifts her head and finds Midorima standing in front of her.
He seems somewhat surprise, his eyes widened ever so slightly and brows arched. Although he just as quickly appears stone-faced again.
At first she wonders why he is loitering outside of the office again, but she soon spots a small piece of paper in his hand – a list? Apparently he is still running errands. She lifts her eyes to gaze into his. "Hm, you caught me, Shin-kun!"
Rather than play along, he merely sighs. "I have to deliver this to the office, Suoh-san. Move." He seems content to tack on that '-san' repetitively as though to remind her of the distance between them, to solidify the fact that they are nothing more than students in the same school. Senpai and kohai, though he does not refer to her as such.
"Hey, Shin-kun, your keychain fell on the floor!" She makes an animated show of pointing toward his feet where it has supposedly fallen.
Without questioning the validity of her words, he cranes his neck down and bends as though to retrieve it. It takes a moment for him to realize that the keychain is still, in fact, hooked to the jacket of his uniform. But by the time he realizes, it is already too late.
Ayame has closed the distance between them, grasping his collar to stop him from moving away. And their lips collide for a brief moment. It is rough and uncomfortable – at least on his part – although short enough that he has no opportunity to react.
"There," she declares triumphantly when she leans back. He can feel the warmth of her breath caressing his lips as she hovers close enough to his face that the tips of their noses are almost touching. "You can't pretend like we're strangers if we've kissed, right? I like you, Shin-kun. So let's see each other more often from now on."