Let's see if I can keep up with it this time haha.
Walking home with Fuji Kuroda is exactly as unpleasant as Makoto anticipated.
She insisted on waiting until the day after they'd gotten their assignment so she could warn her parents she'd be having someone over, and Makoto let it go because it was more hilarious than anything. Fuji is the kind of person who has a very strict schedule, who probably counts the time it takes to brush her teeth and get ready in the morning down to the second so she knows she's still adhering to it. It makes it a little surprising that she'd dip her toes into blackmail, let alone have such a good handle on both him and Kinaka, but he's determined to figure out what makes her tick.
"Hanamiya," she addresses him coldly the moment they leave school grounds, "I'd like you to keep in mind that the only reason you're coming over is so we can begin work on the art project and finish it as expediently as possible."
He rolls his eyes. "You don't say? I nearly forgot how much I can't fucking stand you and mistook us for a couple. Thanks for reminding me, Kuroda."
She gives him a sharp glance out of the corner of her eye. "Keep the attitude to a minimum," she warns, "And refrain from using profanity. My mother will be home and my father will arrive later tonight, and I would greatly appreciate—!"
"Oh, your folks will be home?" Makoto interrupts, "You're bringing me home to meet your parents? You sure this isn't a date, Kuroda?"
She stops walking, and Makoto is secretly pleased at the reaction. "You can keep taunting me if you'd like, but it's in your best interest not to." Fuji adjusts her glasses and her eyes become obscured by the light reflecting off of them, but he feels confident that she's giving him a smug look. "I'm certain that even you can conduct yourself like a mature young adult under rare circumstances. My mother keeps a close watch over my academic life, and she'd be quite upset if I ended up with a delinquent for a project partner. You wouldn't make her demand we're both reassigned, would you?"
Makoto is still inwardly in disbelief that Fuji is even for real—he thought perfectionists with sticks up their asses who only stayed up late to study for tests and addressed their parents as "mother and father" couldn't possibly be real. He smiles. "Certainly not, Kuroda," he says in the most sickeningly sweet voice he can possibly muster, "Why, your parents will be positively thrilled that someone as well-mannered as myself is your partner for the art project."
She regards him with a scowl. "Tone it down," she mutters, and starts to walk again, but Makoto is still grinning.
Fuji lives in a picturesque neighborhood in suburban Tokyo, her family's home unsurprisingly large and elegant-looking, a neat brick path framed by tall hedges leading right up to the door where a bronze nameplate proudly bears the characters that spell "KURODA." Makoto grimaces, already imagining her parents—older versions of Fuji, emotionless robots obsessed with their jobs and netting promotions and having the nicest-looking plants in the neighborhood, utterly enamored with their boring and meaningless lives.
Makoto walks in behind Fuji, slipping off his shoes in the entryway. He hears her say, "Mother, father, I'm home," and when someone normal appears in the hall, he's shocked speechless.
Mrs. Kuroda is a tall woman who keeps her hair quite a bit longer than her daughter's, bangs tucked neatly behind her ears and part straight down the middle. She's neat but she isn't obsessive like Fuji, and she has an inviting smile on her face when she spots Makoto, which really throws him for a loop.
"Welcome home," she says, "This must be your partner for the art project?"
Makoto flashes a smile and gives a slight bow. "Hanamiya, Makoto," he says politely, "It's very nice to meet you."
"So polite!" Mrs. Kuroda laughs, "Fuji is always working so hard on her school work, so I don't get to meet her friends very often. Group projects like these can really be a good thing sometimes, can't they? You get to spend time with your friends while you get homework done."
Makoto stares, still in shock. The woman in front of him is either completely oblivious to her daughter's anal-retentive and antisocial behavior, or she's in denial. He glances cautiously at Fuji, who is eyeing the stairs like she'd really like to be working on the project, completely ignoring her mother, and he thinks it must be the latter—surely, if she's as involved as Fuji claims with her "academic life," she would have noticed that her daughter doesn't have friends and doesn't seem to interested in making any.
"Go on," Mrs. Kuroda says, "I'll bring up tea and macaroons for you later, if you'd like."
"Please don't trouble yourself," Makoto says, but she waves him off.
"No trouble at all! If you're a friend of Fuji's, you're like a child of my own."
Fuji shoots Makoto a warning glance that he interprets as a demand to get his ass up the stairs, and he smirks but follows her anyway. Her room is notably lacking in idol posters, stuffed animals or other things he'd expect for a girl her age, but it's also lacking any distinguishable personal items save for a collection of books in a short bookshelf in the corner. He doesn't see even a single stray sock. There isn't an ounce of personality in the room.
He isn't really surprised.
"Seems like I made a good first impression," he says with a grin as he sits on the edge of Fuji's bed, watching her set her bag down next to her desk in a spot worn into the carpet where she presumably sets it every day. She begins taking out her books, ignoring the comment. "Honestly, I'm not sure what to think, Kuroda. I was sure your parents would be just like you, but your mother seems completely normal. So where does your personality come from? Is it your father?"
"Hanamiya," she says sharply, "I'd appreciate it if you could focus on the project."
He fights to keep himself from grinning wider; it sounds like he's struck a nerve. Is she sensitive about being compared to her parents? Is she embarrassed by them? Is she perhaps a freak accident that came out of a completely normal home, imagining herself as the only high-achieving genius in a family of mediocrity? He wasn't sure yet, but he couldn't wait to find out.
"Of course, the project," he nods in agreement, and gets his copy of The Wild Geese from his bag, setting it on the bed beside him. "What did you have in mind, Kuroda?"
He glanced at her when he didn't get an answer and found her turning through her own copy, eyes quickly moving back and forth as she skimmed the pages. "Perhaps we should discuss what parts of the book we enjoyed the most," she suggests, "From there, we can determine how to combine our interests into one cohesive project."
Makoto shrugged. "I didn't particularly enjoy the book." He gets a little thrill out of the incensed look on Fuji's face from such a passive comment. "Why don't we just focus on the geese?" he says, "They're the most obvious recurring symbol."
Fuji's perturbed expression becomes thoughtful. "Perhaps," she says, "We could do a diptych. Each of us will complete one painting featuring our interpretation of the symbolism of the geese."
She opens her mouth to say something else, but her door opens, and Mrs. Kuroda stands just outside with a dark wood tea tray, a kettle, two cups and a plate of pastel-colored macaroons balanced on top. "I hate to interrupt," she says cheerfully, "But I thought you might like some snacks."
"Thank you, mother," Fuji says stiffly, standing to retrieve the tray, and setting it at her desk.
"Oh," Mrs. Kuroda exclaims, "Fuji, you only have one chair in here! Poor Makoto doesn't have anywhere to sit."
Fuji glances back at him, grimacing when her mother can't see her expression. "He's sitting on the bed right now."
"No, that won't do. Should I bring another one up?"
"I'd hate to trouble you, Mrs. Kuroda," Makoto says sweetly.
Fuji's mother beams. Fuji, with her back turned to her mother, looks as though she'd like him to go into sudden cardiac arrest. "No trouble at all," she says.
"It's fine, mother," Fuji insists, "Hanamiya and I were just discussing our project, and we believe we'll be creating a diptych painting. We'll likely use the kitchen table in order to avoid dirtying the carpet."
"Oh, really? Well, I guess, if that's the case…."
Makoto doesn't know if he wants to laugh or grimace as he listens to the two of them interact. It has to be her father, Makoto thinks, she isn't a fucking thing like her mother.
By the time Fuji has finally gotten her mother out of her room and closed the door again, she's noticeably flustered, a small frown on her face as she again pushes her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. "Hanamiya, you may leave now."
Makoto laughs. "Trying to kick me out already?" he taunts, "You should really listen to your mother; she said group projects are wonderful because it lets you work with your friends. Why don't we study together?"
What happens next happens so suddenly that Makoto would almost call it frightening, if he were a person who were afraid of anything. Fuji Kuroda marches over to him and takes a fistful of his uniform jacket below his throat, pushing him down on the bed and climbing over him, and glaring hellfire over the edge of her glasses. "Listen closely, because I am not going to repeat myself," she hisses, "I do not want you here. You will keep your interaction with my mother and father to an absolute minimum, and you will not speak to me unless it has to do with our shared project, or in response to a question I ask you. If behaving in a respectful manner is too much for you to handle, I will make your life at Kirisaki Daiichi an absolute living hell, and your membership on the basketball team will be the least of your worries."
Makoto doesn't say anything for a minute, letting her cool off and wearing a neutral expression. As enjoyable as it is to see her completely lose her shit—and honestly, that just now almost made the whole miserable project worth doing—getting her upset with him works against his eventual goal, which is to become Fuji's boyfriend long enough to completely destroy her life.
That being said, he's still learned something very interesting from the outburst; something about his earlier statement about her mother's words really upset her.
"I understand," he says quietly, looking away in feigned submission.
Seemingly satisfied, Fuji releases him and gets up, returning to her desk where she opens a notebook and begins working on something, ignoring him for the rest of his visit.
It's only day one of the group project, but Makoto is already confident that he'll have Fuji right where he wants her by the time their painting is finished.
When the boredom of studying in silence becomes too much to bear and it's become clear that Fuji really isn't going to even look at him, Makoto excuses himself and gathers his things, heading back down the stairs. He thinks he's made a clean getaway, but Mrs. Kuroda appears in the downstairs hallway with her usual oblivious smile. "Are you heading home, Hanamiya?" she asks.
"Yes. Thank you for your hospitality," he says with another boy and an award-winning smile.
She laughs. "Anytime," she says, "Please, think of this as your second home. I hope you'll excuse Fuji if she comes off as a bit…cold." She breaks eye contact, and Makoto sees embarrassment on her face. "She's so difficult sometimes," Mrs. Kuroda says quietly, "I just know she'd have more friends if she opened up a bit." She looks at him again, smiling once more. "Thank you for being so patient with her."
So she isn't completely oblivious.
Interesting.
"Truthfully, I don't find your daughter difficult at all," Makoto says, "I think she's rather charming, if that isn't too bold a thing to say."
"No!" Mrs. Kuroda says, sounding delighted. "You really think so?"
"I do. In fact," and here, Makoto has to look away, because he isn't sure he can hide his smile. He tries to disguise it as a shy, nervous one. "I'm very fond of her. I've admired her since my first year at Kirisaki Daiichi. I'd actually like to try asking her out."
Mrs. Kuroda looks like she might faint. "Oh, Makoto," she says, "That would be wonderful! Please, don't be discouraged by Fuji's behavior; I'm certain, if someone was willing to give her a chance, she'd be more than happy to do the same for them."
Well, maybe a little oblivious.
But it's a start. Makoto has Mrs. Kuroda positively wrapped around his finger for being probably the first person Fuji has ever had over and claimed to enjoy her company. Finding an excuse to continue coming even after the project's completion won't be difficult now.
Makoto leaves the Kuroda residence positively walking on air, whistling to himself with a smile on his face. A passerby he's just had a nice afternoon with his girlfriend, and the thought makes him laugh all the way home.
"So?"
Kinaka Daicho finds Makoto the next morning before class starts, barging into the classroom as usual and leaning against his desk with her arms crossed over her chest. Makoto glances up at her, smiling. "So what?"
"Have you made any headway with Kuroda?"
He chuckles. "You could say that."
She sighs. "You're not going to tell me anything, are you?"
"I'll tell you what you need to know, which isn't anything that's happened recently."
"Are you sure you can even pull this off?" she asks.
"Don't you worry your pretty, little head, Daicho, I've got this in the bag."
The classroom door is opened violently and Kinaka flinches when she looks back, scurrying away when Fuji Kuroda comes into the room, looking straight at Makoto, who gives her a coy smile and wave. She makes a beeline for him, glancing around the room at the handful of other students who are early.
"Good morning, Kuroda," he says.
She nods, her usual unpleasant frown on her face, but it seems a touch anxious. "Good morning, Hanamiya," she says. She brings her hands together in front of her and stands with her legs together, suddenly looking much smaller and less authoritative than usual. "I'd like to discuss something with you in the hall."
Curious, he nods and follows her outside the classroom door. Fuji shuts it and glances own at her shoes. The timidity is so out of character for her that Makoto takes a good look to make sure it's actually Kuroda he's talking to. She doesn't say anything for a while, standing awkwardly in front of him with her eyes averted. "What did you want?" Makoto asks impatiently.
Fuji doesn't look at him. "I…." She hesitates, and he sees her shoulders rise and fall as she takes a steadying breath. "I wanted to confess my feelings for you."
The words don't register at first. Makoto opens his mouth to respond, and then closes it, thinking. He wonders if he's still in bed having a bizarre dream. Kuroda is still avoiding his eyes. "What?" he asks finally, because he doesn't know what else to say.
"I am confessing my feelings for you, Makoto Hanamiya," she repeats.
This doesn't necessarily dampen Makoto's good mood, but he is confused and trying to figure out just what in the fuck is going on. Fuji's cheeks are just a bit flushed, probably from embarrassment, and he doesn't know where this is coming from. Did she overhear him talking to her mother the previous night? Did her mother tell her what he'd said? It seems far too coincidental that it would happen the immediate day after, especially since Fuji hasn't shown even the least bit of interest in him before.
Which is when it hits him.
Fuji knows—maybe from Daicho, maybe from her mother, maybe just a lucky guess—that Makoto is up to something, and she's trying to play the same game with him. Makoto could laugh. If she really thinks she's going to have any success, that she'll be able to seduce him and get him even further under her control, she has another thing coming. Surely, she has to know it won't be so easy.
"Well, Kuroda," he says with theatrical shock, "Honestly, this comes as a surprise. I would never have guessed." He catches her lips twitching in irritation. "But you'll be happy to know that I return your feelings. I'd like to be your boyfriend."
She still doesn't look at him when she says, without a hint of emotion, "I'm very glad to hear that." Makoto inwardly scoffs; for someone who's trying to manipulate people around her, she's terrible when she tries to come off as sincere. "You'll come over again tonight, won't you?"
"I have practice, actually."
"Then I'll wait for you."
Makoto smiles. "How thoughtful of you, Fuji."
She looks up at him then, visibly disgusted at the sound of her name coming out of his mouth. Makoto almost says it again, but her business apparently finished, Fuji turns on her heel and walks back into the classroom, and doesn't say a word to him for the rest of the day, which he really doesn't mind.
The entire exchange is bizarre and sticks him with him long after it's over, but Makoto doesn't dwell on it. He can't imagine Fuji honestly expects him to lower his guard when she lied so poorly, but he knows there's some ulterior motive, something that made her go to the trouble of embarrassing herself with a confession, and he's not going to be caught off guard.
Makoto's not entirely sure what she's playing at, but he's sure he won't lose to her, no matter what it is.
