Disclaimer: DN Angel does not belong to me, but it does belong to Yukiru Sugisaki, who (damn her) is an absolute genius. You'd have to be to create Dark and Dai-chan.
Sakura-Angel: (wince) Sorry? No, really, I'm sorry. I'm horrible at updating things. I'm a horrible person in general. Shame! Shame!
Dark: ... or you could not beat yourself up.
Sakura-Angel: Gah! I hate schooool. But I'm going to cut myself off there because I KNOW I'm going to start ranting about how much I hate school and about how stupid my principal is and so on.
Dark: Just let it stand that he stalks around the school with a police officer to make people nervous. Heck, I'D be nervous.
Sakura-Angel: But you're a thief. You have reason to be nervous.
Dark: This is true. But. I think you should start the chapter.
Sakura-Angel: Right! Please to ignore the bumbling hostess.
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She walked in the next day with the same blast of warm air tickling her face, the same whiff of chlorine and even with the same jeans on. But. But she could sense that something was definitely definitely different. The air was charged in a peculiar way. Also, the floor was shiny to the extreme.
It wasn't until after she picked up her drink (Takeshi wasn't there) and was halfway through the turnstile (neither Atsuro or Kensuke were there, thank goodness) that she heard it.
"... won gold last year..."
"... waxed the floors just because they thought he might come back..."
"... Mousy is here..."
She felt a shock of something shoot up her spine at his last name. What was that? Excitement? Did it matter? What really mattered was why was he was here. Why would he come back again?
She pushed open the door to the staff locker room, trying to keep the bits of excitement from bursting through her fa硤e of calmness.
She couldn't help wondering if he'd come over and talk to her. Did it mean anything? No, of course not. Besides, it would never work, she'd told him too many mortifying things about herself. If he did, it was just because they knew each other somewhat. Besides, he even pulled that little known 'Windstruck' thing on her. He was teasing her entirely. Was he here to tease her some more? Was she just 'that klutzy, blabbery girl' to him? She felt a flash of indignation. Well, that was just mean. He couldn't possibly think that, could he? If he did, he was definitely not worth all these frantic thoughts. She might consider even kicking him in the nads--
"Riku?"
She nearly jumped up in surprise, hand to her chest. She whipped her head around to see who it was. "Megumi! God, don't scare me like that!"
Her friend only offered her a look of confusion. "Yeah, whatever. Listen... Takeshi has something to talk to you about. It's urgent apparently."
Buh.
"Oh... kay," She wasn't even changed yet. Would she have time to have a decent length conversation with Takeshi and get back here in time to change into her swinsuit, run out on deck and not incur the wrath of Mariko?
Yes, she decided. Yes.
She was feeling antsy, but for what reason she didn't understand.
She sprung up from the bench and bolted out the door. "Thanks, Megumi!" she called, and almost ran up to the health food stand. Joint. Glorified kiosk. "Takeshi!" she almost yelled over the counter.
He came when called and slid a drink over to her. "Yeeees?"
"Megumi! Said something about your wanting to talk to me!" She hadn't realized she was gripping the edge of the counter until now, ignoring the drink.
He leaned back on his heels, lazy gaze studying hers. She seemed something extra today.
"Yeah-huh. Head some scraps of something today," he began, deceptively calm.
Why was her heart hammering so fast? Why had she hoped he'd say that?
"There's a rumour goin' 'round that you've got another admirer..." His eyes flickered, hoping to disguise any hint of excitement and hoping to catch any in hers.
It was there. It wasn't a hint though, her eyes were full out shining. She was blazing for it.
A thought stabbed him suddenly. Did she know what he'd say?
"Yes?" she prodded him, trying to disguise her eagerness.
"Know a guy about yea-high, red hair, snorts sometimes when he laughs really hard?" He leaned over the counter at her, easy grin on his face.
At "red hair" her heart plummeted a little. No! It didn't do that! It was fine. As a matter of fact, it was unaffected. Still, she couldn't disguise the slightly sadder tone her voice had taken on. "No..."
He grinned wider and shrugged. "Well, it's not him."
"Saehara!" She was tempted to grab him by the collar and slam the side of his head into the counter. She settled for gritting and baring her teeth at him, and curling her hand into a fist.
"Whoa, whoa! Riku, Riku, Riku! No need to get all last-namey-angry-power mode on me!" He held his hands up, seemingly surrendering.
"Then stop beating around the bush! You know I hate that!" She fumed, knowing she looked like a brat but not really caring. She finally picked up the drink and stuffed the straw into her mouth angrily.
"Okay, okay then," Takeshi lowered his hands, his only barrier, slowly, as if at any moment Riku might turn on him and attack and he'd need to spring it back up again. "Know a guy about yea-high, purple hair, could be dressed in a burlap sack and birkenstocks and still be attractive to women?"
She furrowed her brow at his last description. "Uhhh."
"Three guesses," Takeshi smiled at her, strange for him, kindly.
Her brow relaxed itself and her heart began pumping furiously again. The only guy she knew who had purple hair was Dark! But it wouldn't be Dark. He couldn't possibly--
"Dark?" She blurted, and clapped her hands over her mouth immediately after.
"On a first name basis with him, eh?" Takeshi leaned on the counter, chin cradled in his hand. He raised his eyebrows and grinned a predatory grin.
"No!" She blurted again, hands hovering over her mouth in case she said something even more stupid. She didn't know if that was even possible at this point.
"You're a sharp one, 'Ku," Takeshi teased her. "Luring him right to you the second he walks in. Very smooth of you."
Her hands dropped and she glared at him. "I did not...!"
"You did not what?" A firm hand on her shoulder, a figure leaning into her.
She stiffened, flight reaction shot. God, Ohgodohgodohgod. Why her? Why whenever she was talking about someone did they have to show up or at least catch the tail end of a conversation? Her eyes widened and she was filled with the tiniest sensation of dread. "Mister Mousy," she forced herself to spread a smile over her face. "I was just telling Saehara that..." Her eyes darted all over the place for an explaination, too busy to catch a hint of amusement passing over his features.
"I was telling him... that I... that I did not order this drink!" She slammed the cup on the table for emphasis.
"You seem to have drunk a lot though, have you not?" The man leaning over her questioned, poking the cup in her hand.
Shit. She forgot that.
"N-no!" She seemed to be saying that an awful lot today. "That was him drinking it, and telling me... how good it is..." She kept her eyes on Takeshi the entire time, watching him watch Dark. Who was watching her. It was a staring triangle. A highly uncomfortable one, she might add.
"I see," said Dark, in a way that made it clear to her that he wanted to finish the statement off with 'that you're clearly lying'. She felt her knees weakening.
There was a strange silence. He stood up straight, hand dropping from her shoulder and nearly brushing her lower back. "Well I really must be going. I will see you later, Saehara. And I will see you at the pool, Riku." And he was gone.
She could see Takeshi practically counting to ten in his head before he burst. "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME? God, LOOK at him, leaning like that, staring like that, HOW could you NOT KNOW?"
She was tempted to rub her temples. "I--"
"KEEP IT UP! Whatever you're doing! You GO, RIKU!" His fist pounded the counter, attracting more than a little attention from passersby.
Dear God, she thought he'd start whooping with his level of enthusiasm. How embarassing. She wanted to run and hide, but at the same time she wanted to burst out smiling and skip over the tiled floor, waving her arms and exclaiming "He likes me! He li--"
But no. She didn't care if he liked her or not. Besides, a little leaning meant nothing. He was just making sure she heard him was all, there were a lot of people around...
Okay, so there weren't. Unless five people counted as a lot.
But that didn't matter! All that mattered was that she definitely did not like him, and he definitely did not like her, right?
Right, she thought to herself. Right.
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"You're veering into the other lane, Kosuke!" Riku yelled to her student about to hit the seperator.
"Rei, your stroke is off! Stroke, stroke, stroke!"
"You're not letting yourself glide, Sora! Put more force into your kick!"
Riku was anxious. And when Riku was anxious, she drove her students. Hard. They could tell completely that she was feeling tense, so they went along with her. She was lucky that she had students like these, others would have threw tantrums or splashed her mercilessly.
She paced behind the starting blocks, watching her students intently. She couldn't let her mind wander. She had to give one hundred percent to this, had to be quaking with intensity, or her mind would drift and she'd think about something she definitely did not want to think about.
"Hey."
Speak of the--
"Hello."
"Have a minute?"
"You know, I really don't think I can get away," she informed him, not turning to look at him. This was mostly because he was undoubtedly in his swimsuit and looking very, very attractive.
"Oh come on," he nudged her with his elbow, and his bare skin on hers made her stand up even straighter. "You don't trust your students to take care of themselves for a little while?"
"Yeah, teach," a voice piped up from behind a starting block. Kosuke. "Go talk to the nice man."
She could KILL him. She knew he was her student, and she was bound by some sort of unwritten code to NOT maim her students (not to mention many legal documents), but Kosuke was reeeeally pushing it.
"You know," she said through clenched teeth, eyeing her rambunctious student with murderous intent, "I could make you do ten more laps if you want."
He pursed his lips, knowing he'd lost. "Did I say go? I meant stay. Stay forever and ever because I love you." And he dived off the starting block back into the water.
"You see?" She said with renewed conviction, and turned to look at Dark, forgetting that she wasn't looking at him. But what she noticed was not how nicely toned his body was (that was for later), but how he was chuckling at her and her students' banter.
"You really..." He smiled at her and opened his eyes. "Do love kids, don't you?"
She was taken aback. "Y-yes," she managed to stutter. What had posessed him to say that? "I told you that before."
"It's obvious that you do," he said, still smiling, only now he turned his head to look at them, swimming up and down their lanes.
She did likewise, if only because she didn't want to keep looking at him and his nicely muscled arms. Yes, that was it. "I remember once," she began absently, "That one of my younger students, an adorable seven year old, told me that she used to hate swimming, but she loved it now because of me... it felt so good to know that. That, because of me, she learned to love something."
He turned his soft eyes on her, but she was barely aware of it.
She was truly extraordinary. She wore her heart so clearly on her sleeve, showed her emotions so clearly on her face. He saw in her so many things he could not see in himself. She intrigued him.
Clearing of a throat. Hers, to be precise.
He cut off whatever she wanted to say next. "Would you do me the honour of joining me for a drink? I'll make sure to not get what you had this morning," he added charmingly.
She was about to demure politely, suddenly feeling sapped of her energy from earlier on. But instead she, surprising herself (she seemed to do that more lately too), said yes.
--------
"Two raspberry lemonades please," he told the girl behind the counter of the food stand, slapping a bill down for her. She looked mildly shocked, but seemed to recover the second he turned away, physically shaking herself.
Riku, coming up behind him and taking a seat at a table, tilted her head at him funny. What was that for?
"What's that for?"
"What?" she cocked her head to the other side instantly, soliciting a laugh from him.
"This." And he made it a point to tilt his head far too much to the right.
She stiffened a little, blushing. She didn't know how all these little things she did made him want to laugh.
"Um... it's just that. You. Um." She chewed at her lip. She was always anxious when he wasn't around, but when he was, she was fine. She was so caught up in... him. Why was that?
He smiled again. It seemed to him that he always smiled when she was around. "I..."
"You remembered what I said. About liking raspberry lemonade." Her eyes shifted from the tabletop to his chin. "I didn't think you would remember something that... stupid."
"Riku," he bit at the end of her sentence, instantly serious, reprimanding even. "Nothing about you is stupid."
She blinked multiple times, surprised. Her eyes were wide in an almost vulnerable way, staring him straight on. "Oh."
Another laugh held back. Her responses to everything were just... endearing. "It's true. You may not believe it, but it's true."
"I just meant... I didn't think you would remember anything I told you. It wasn't... really important."
He wanted to talk about her, she wanted to talk about him.
"Of course it was. It still is, clearly." He gestured to the waitress coming with the two lemonades, as if on cue. She placed them on the table slowly, lingering too long and eyeing Dark, then leaving reluctantly, tapping her shoes loudly.
This fact was not missed by Riku. In fact, it might have been played up in her mind into a full blown scenario in which the waitress was sitting in Dark's lap and twirling a lock of his hair, giggling flirtatiously and hiking her skirt up higher every five seconds.
"Are you serious?"
Her eyes widened, but then she realized Dark was not talking about her scenario. He was pointing at his cup of raspberry lemonade.
Not having shaken off her daydream yet, she coughed out a "Huh?"
He sputtered a little after taking another sip of his red drink. "Nope," he said, wiping his mouth, "It doesn't get any better."
She was instantly defensive. "How can you say that? It's so yummy!"
He bit his lip, holding back a laugh. "'Yummy'?"
"Yes!"
"I haven't heard anyone past the age of ten use that word," he bit at her unintentionally.
"Well now you have," she bit back, and smirked triumphantly.
He let himself smile this time, watching her take a sip of her drink.
He wanted to talk to her. Or even just listen to her talk, like he had those few days ago in the coffeeshop. "So that time, that sleepover, when you were twelve... what was that game you mentioned?"
She looked over her glass at him, anxiousness fading. "Truth," she replied, and went back to her drink, trying her best to not slurp it greedily. "All we did was ask questions and tell the truth..."
"And why," said he, taking another unconcious sip of his drink and spluttering all over again, "Would this game be entertaining?"
She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Because it was drama-inducing. You asked really hard questions and the other person had to tell the truth, no matter what."
"Ahhhh," came his understanding sigh.
"Why are you asking?" She couldn't help asking him about his asking.
"Why don't..." he started, tapping at the tabletop. "We play?"
"Truth?"
"Yes."
She wasn't quite comprhending. "You," she pointed at him, in an I-Tarzan-you-Jane sorta way, "want to play Truth, a total girl's game, with me." A finger pointed at herself.
"Yes."
She nodded slowly, unable to quell a strange sensation in her abdomen. "Okay."