Cup 3: Bottlecaps
"I didn't know you could sing. Great job in the audition! :D," it showed on the screen of his cellphone. Takeshi smiled.
"It was fun :)," He sent his reply.
"Hey hey, I got into drama." The baseball player said happily to his friends over lunch at the rooftop.
"Ha! That stupid play?" The half-Italian scoffed at what the boy felt was a great accomplishment. Tsuna, on the other hand, thought otherwise.
"That's great, Yamamoto! I wish I had enough confidence to at least audition. Maybe Kyoko-chan would be impressed…" He whispered the last sentence to himself. Gokudera found it shocking that Tsuna thought so highly of the drama club's productions, which he himself thought was a total waste of time. The brunette saw how his friend's mouth was gaping open, eyes popping out, and eyebrows were in right angles. "Maybe Gokudera should try too. The shows they stage get better every year. It's a great," — he was searching for the right word, "investment…?"
"Heya, welcome to the Nami Drama." Hana tried to sound as casual as possible. She was in the auditorium with her two subordinates, facing a group that was now called the Drama Club. The students clapped and cheered.
The chairman suddenly felt a surge of confidence. She smiled. "Well, this year's production will be a musical, so we'll be collaborating with the dance ensemble, the choir, and the orchestra. Hi guys." She waved, and the students who volunteered from the said performing groups waved back.
"As we all know, this production is not all about performing, and entertaining, and pleasing the audience." She started walking towards the audience seats. "To perform is to make yourself happy too. Perform with your friends, and we all have a fantastic time. So if you came here today, after all that trouble and suspense from auditioning, just to be popular… I suggest you step out of this auditorium now. You might not be getting good roles anyway."
There was an awkward silence. Her tone was foreboding, but on her face was a sweet smile. A few feet shuffled, a few guilty souls walked out of the hall.
"Now since that's done with…," Hana continued on with a rather short carefree pep talk, and distributed copies of the script out to the students. Ayu helped diving the groups: cast, backstage, props, background… and the like.
"Yamamoto Takeshi," the English teacher called just as the boy swung his bag over his shoulders, ready to leave for baseball practice. Instead, he walked towards the teacher's table, smiling, not at all worried about what the teacher might say. "You English marks are slipping," she said, pointing on a monotone rainbow of red on her record book, "baseball games are coming up, and I have heard that you recently joined the Drama Club. If you don't improve in the next few tests, I will have to ask you to drop one of your extra-curricular activities."
"Haru-chan is so excited for the play! I can finally put my cosplay skills to good use!" The girl pumped her fists into the air, walking with Tsuna, Kyoko, and Gokudera, leaving school.
The self-proclaimed right-hand man glared at the noisy girl, "Shut up, woman. You aren't supposed to be here. Go back to your old school."
"Humph!" The brunette crossed her arms in annoyance, "No! I will do my all to be with Tsuna-kun, and learn to be the best mafia wife ever!" She was now more enthusiastic, sending the said to-be mafia boss a lovey-dovey look. Tsuna just tried to ignore her. Kyoko just let out a soft giggle.
"To think about it, Yamamoto has been spending a lot of time after school because of the drama club and the baseball team," Tsuna said, slightly concern for his friend.
" That idiot can handle everything," the silver haired boy just waved the topic off. Yamamoto Takeshi was one of those superhuman people who would always be happy and enthusiastic about everything. He was like an endorphin: both to himself and who he was with.
7:00pm.
Baseball practice had just ended. The baseball idiot had gone to get his English notes, which he had left in class, passing by the school hall on the way out. The hall's lights turned off as he passed, and someone was closing the door shut. It was Hana, supposed closing up after drama practice.
"Oi, Masaki." Takeshi called, tone happy and friendly as usual.
The girl turned around, and smiled.
"So, you're saying that Takayama-sensei said that your grades better go up, or you'll be forced to quit either baseball or drama?" Hana was confirming what she just heard, and then adjusted her glasses.
"Yep," he replied.
They were walking home.
"Eh, there's a convenience store. I want to go get something."
Hana bought a bottle of green tea and Takeshi got some milk. They decided to sit on the bench outside the seven-eleven store and rest for a while.
"I can help you with your English, actually. I'm free on Saturdays unless stated otherwise," the girl offered, "but I think you need to see that Italian-transfer student of yours for Maths."
"Eh? Gokudera? How did you know?"
"He's rather popular in my class. He's quite a hit with the ladies," she let out a chuckle, opening her green tea drink. Yamamoto smiled. Gokudera was mostly unaware of it. He usually spent his spare time- if there were any- on Sistema CAI or with his cat. The boy took a swig of his milk.
Hana looked at the inside of her unscrewed metal cap of her bottle. "Here, for you." She passed it to the boy beside her, then taking a sip.
"Impossible is nothing. –Adidas." He read it out loud. It was so nice of that juice company to put quotes in the caps of their drinks.
The two made a compromise. The drama girl would put the baseball idiot through a crash course in English if he'd spend more time learning his lines. He got the most popular role after all: Prince Charming.
The venue was his house, on Saturdays. Takeshi's father was nice enough to give her free lunch during those tutorial sessions. After two hours of English cramming, the pair would practice on lines or Hana would start fixing up Takeshi's costume.
"You don't write I has, but it's I have," Hana underlined the words on Yamamoto's essay that didn't do very well with her lime green marker. "The same goes for you."
The poor boy blinked twice, "What?"
"Unleash her you fiend," Takeshi said, but in the wrong tone. He was still all sing-song-y.
Green marker was tapping on the table.
"Why do you like to drink milk so much?" Hana asked over a short sushi break. "It doesn't even go well with Japanese food." She, on the other hand, sipped her green tea.
"Maybe that's why you're so short." Yamamoto laughed, earning him a glare. "Why do you like tea so much, then?"
"Because it keeps me awake, and it has this really calming smell."
The boy's room was filled with post-its that labeled things in both Japanese and English.
Takeshi had "Baka: stupid" post-it stuck on his forehead, while Hana had "Kawaii: Cute" on hers.
" Do you have any complaints about this body?" Hana was demanding an answer.
Takeshi put his hands up in defense, "No, no it's not that…"
" Humph! Then why don't you do it already?"
" Ehh… it doesn't seem right…"
" Tch.." Then there was the sound heavy bare footsteps and of cloth being rubbed together and being thrown into the air like parachutes.
" Oi, oi… Don't go there… OI. BE GENTLE…"
Tsuyoshi couldn't help eavesdropping anymore. The man slammed the door open, face red as the tuna he had been slicing a few moments ago
Awkward silence filled the air. The boy's hands were both in the air, still in his t-shirt and shorts, with a red cloth draped over his shoulder and a blue one on his torso. The girl was also fully-clothed (cue father's sigh of relief), needle on one hand, and the other holding the blue cloth together.
Unaffected by the bang, Hana continued what she had been doing, "Stop moving. I need the body of your costume done by the end of this week."
Wooden chopsticks poked on something pink and soft. Poke. Poke.
"How do you eat this?" The English tutor demanded.
"Like this," the student dipped his piece of uncooked fish into a muddy mix of soy sauce and wasabi, and put it into his mouth. Cue dumb smile.
The girl's face twisted into a disgusted look.
From those days, the two seemed to get to know each other better. How they liked their food cooked, their favorite drinks, and their strengths and weaknesses as a person.
"Pssst. Takeshi-kun," Haru whispered to a certain baseball idiot while testing out her costume as an apple tree. The boy simply turned to her from sloppily painting a piece of wood blue. "You weren't in our last meeting because of baseball practice. Reborn said that the Vongola should watch out for suspicious people. Another famiglia is out to get us."
"Next time, don't leave me out, okay? I can skip a few practices…"
A certain vice-chairman appeared out of nowhere. "Yamamoto-kun! Can you help me paint this the same blue?" She dragged a thin sheet of wood that was about the same size of a single-size mattress. "Thanks!" then she skipped off to another corner of the room.
"Talk to you later," he told Haru, "Got work." He held up the paintbrush and smiled.
He continued to do the painting job. It was only a flat colour, so whether or not the boy had any artistic talents, the product should be satisfactory. Halfway painting, the bucket he held had already become empty. Takeshi went to get a new can. It was amazing how this club had enough budget to buy so many cans of paint. He popped the metal lid open, to see that the underside of it was also glazed with blue.
Hana looked at the inside of her unscrewed metal cap of her bottle. "Here, for you." She passed it to the boy beside her, then taking a sip.
The baseball idiot smiled to himself. He was usually the one that gave people encouragement. He never thought that the bottle cap of a drink could make him worry so much lesser than before.
He took the opened can in his hand, on the walk back to his gigantic plank, was stopped by the voice of a certain Mafia-wife-wannabe, "Yamamoto-kun! I just got an sms from Tsuna that—"
At that exact moment the boy had stopped in his tracks and turned towards Haru's direction, he bumped into something—or rather, somebody—in front of him. By the time he turned his head back, he saw Hana, sweater and whatever she was holding, all awash in blue paint. The look on her face could send just about anybody down all six layers of hell.
"Masaki…" It felt like there was a frog in Takeshi's throat.
The apple tree took whatever she could use as a tissue paper (which was apparently, a random rag near wherever she was) and ran to the aid of the club chairman, in the process, frantically screaming incoherent things along the lines of "oh my god," and "I'm so sorry. As the rag touched the blue-coated grey sweater, a rainbow of colours followed, worsening the damage. Haru had no idea that the rag had been used to clean used paintbrushes and hasn't been washed yet.
"Miura." Her voice was like the calm before the storm: foreboding. "You're not from Namimori, right." It was more like a confirmation than a question. With that Haru stepped away, stripped off her tree costume in one corner of the room, and left, unconsciously carrying the rag with her.
After the students were dismissed, Hana stayed back to clean up whatever little mess was left and to lock the hall up. She took off her grey sweater and used it to wife off any paint on the walls or floor. She wouldn't want the Drama Club to get in the Disciplinary Committee's bad side. She noticed that there was a lot of blue…
Yamamoto didn't leave yet. He felt rather guilty for spilling paint on her, and the floor as well. He tried to help, moving back certain pieces of furniture in the hall.
The air was undeniably tense, as the girl did not talk at all. The boy did not know how to start.
By the time she was locking up, she asked in the most monotonous voice, "Why are you still here?"
"Shouldn't leave a girl like you all alone, especially at this time of the night," he flashed her one of his warmest smiles. She couldn't help but smile a bit, no matter how much she wanted to fight it. A blush was creeping up her cheeks as well.
On the walk home, the duo stopped at the seven-eleven store that they always passed by. They got the usual, milk and green tea.
"Ahh," Hana gave out a relieved sigh after a sip of tea, "I feel so much better now."
"I said I was sorry," guilt was still bugging Yamamoto. Wasn't his apology enough? Did she still need tea to calm her down and make her happy.
"Its not you," she replied. A shiver went down her spine as the cold wind blew at their direction. The baseball idiot didn't fail to notice this. It was because she threw the now-technicolor-used-to-be-grey-Namimori-sweater into the trash bin, and the rainy season was coming soon.
Yamamoto put his milk aside, and stripped his own sweater off. "Here," he draped it over Hana's shoulders. "I kind of owe you," he ended off with an unsure chuckle.
Hana denied it, saying that there was no need to, pushing it back to the boy beside her. As if on cue, another cool breeze blew, that sent her shivering. Takeshi took her bottle of tea from her, and told her to wear the sweater or she wouldn't see her green tea again. Not like she had a choice now…
Obviously, the baseball player was a few sizes larger than the girl. The sleeves were even long enough to hide her fingers from the cold.
"Thanks. But won't you be cold?" Hana asked, now holding on to her tea after its kidnap.
"I can handle it," he replied with his trademark grin.
The girl decided to focus her attention to something more interesting, like her drink, before her face would turn pink. "Oh yah, midterms are next week," the change of topic was called for.
"I… I can handle it."
Hey guys. Its me again. :) After what seemed like eternity, yes, another chapter is here.
Gee, how long has it been since the last update? D":
Anyway, I do appreciate all the faves and alerts.
Gives me a sense of being loved. ish. :I
But 2 reviews? C'mon guys. you can do better than that...? :D
Please review. ;_; *begs* lol.
Critique will be much appreciated. :D