~ Remember Us ~
散
歩
[Walk]
I wave good-bye to the other Kendo members—apparently they enjoy teasing me in the shower-room and it's not just the seniors but juniors too.
It seems like word travels way too fast when it comes to me and my "love-life". I only say that because it seems like everyone took notice of the vixen waiting for me after/during practice, everyone on the team knew about it after a few seconds.
I didn't care at first… until they began their foolish antics: it started with silly crap like aimless teasing, but they it started to get annoying—when I mean: annoying, I'm talking about childish songs involving: kissing, carriages and trees.
It cut my shower in half.
"Y-You didn't have to rush your shower"—now, I'm here in front of the flustered vixen with soaked hair and a towel hooding/covering my locks.
I might just take the offer of being the team-captain just to make all those idiots regret their "little teasing" parade.
"E to… (Um)" I whisper with my eyes drifting to the ground, and cheeks tinting pink.
Damn her… and those big blue eyes! How am I supposed to respond when she looking at me like an innocent puppy that I just want to cuddle, kiss and hug?! Seriously, it's hard—I can't touch her it'd be weird.
I can't look away from her: perfect lips, big eyes of wonder and erotic aura—it's tempting—her innocence is tempting. Damn you Shu and your perverted-ways—they seem to be rubbing off on me!
"Hakuchi gorira (Idiot gorilla)," I sigh effortlessly and ruffle her bangs with a soft smile. "Sore ni tsuite wa shinpaishinaidekudasai (Don't worry about it)."
A slight pause comes from the virago and I look down to see: her cheeks puffed with blush, eyes dazed and shimmering like a child. She so…so kawaii (cute).
"Don't treat me like a kid, bean-sprout," she huffs. "And I'm not a gorilla!"
I grunt as she kicks my shin—I was waiting for that—I can be honest and admit that I did plant the name in the beginning so she would hit me. It's not some perverted turn-on (trust me, that isn't the case), I just need something to kick my growing-pervert in the butt.
"Anyways, Kirisaki-san," I say while nursing my aching shin—she kicked me pretty hard. "Do you mind if we went to the store on the way home?"
Her eyes widen with confusion, and soon, embarrassment.
I nearly forgot her little perverted secret—she's probably thinking that I'm going to buy something for—god-knows-what! Probably rope and wire for bondage or condoms; honestly, sometimes I think she's worse than Shu.
"I need a few things for dinner," I tell her as I walk pass the vixen.
"Ā, daijōbu (Oh, okay)" she cheerfully calls out before scurrying to my side with a smile. "What're you making tonight?"
I glance over to see her eyes peering into my skull just waiting for my answer. "My brother Kosuke's favorite," I reply.
"Which is?" Chitoge gleefully sings.
"Well, it's a recipe my mother sort of invented before I was born," I admit—I learned the recipe from my grandmother since mom wasn't around to teach me. Also, it's something my dad would make on birthdays (mostly Kosuke's). My other brothers weren't the biggest fans of the dish since it reminded them of our mother; it always made them a little bit sad inside even if they don't admit it.
There's a few things we don't do at home—first: back talking to our dad; if one of my brother saw me speaking back to my father they would kick my butt.
Secondly, you never enter another brother's room without knocking and getting permission to go inside (Dad is the only one who can do that).
Thirdly, no one is to complain if they are asked to work at the bakery. It can be a chore in your mind, you can complain to one to my brother's, but not to my father because it was our mother's pride-and-joy besides her kids.
Last rule: never talk about mom unless it's her birthday, another birthday, my parent's anniversary or dad brings her up—it's too painful for my older brothers.
"What's the closest thing to the recipe?" Chitoge asks; I snap out of my thoughts and look around—we're standing at a cross-walk.
"Uh, well, "I chuckle, "its Asian salad but a little more sweet and spicy."
Chitoge nods with her eyes up to the sky while the sun begins to drip to the horizon and bright leaves swirl in the slowly cooling air. "It's almost fall," she whispers; hands stretched to the sky and inhaling the scent of the dying trees.
I shove my hands into my pockets as I look at the virago in her glory—she's always loved the fall and winter. Whenever the leaves started to change and snow began to fall from the sky it was like Chitoge was in her element.
I can remember the first year, while we were friends and I was slowly seeing the fact: I was falling for the foul-mouth girl, it was near the end of October and she started humming Christmas songs. She was always so happy back then.
I tense slightly and look over to the blonde next to me, "Kirisaki-san," I breathlessly say.
"Hmm?" she hums with a quick glance my way.
I look down to our shadows as I rest my hands on the back of neck. From the sidewalk it's like she never lost her memory… like we were back in first and second year again.
"Shiawasedesuka? (Are you happy?)" I question without looking at her.
I know it may seems weird but… I want to know if the Chitoge now—the one next to me—is happy just like the late one.
"Izon (Depends)" she tells me; I cast my eyes onto her form. "I'm happy with school, home, my dad, cousin and uncle—also my friends—,"she tries.
"I meant with yourself," I interrupt.
"…Nani? (What?)" She whisper in shock. "What do you mean?"
As we walk across the street I sigh softly, "Well, there's times were I'm always putting myself down and feel sad for no reason. Plus, I know this whole voice thing that's happening with you is confusing… and I wanted to know if—if you're okay," I blush in my nervous rambling.
Suddenly I feel a hand grasp my arm and look over to Chitoge; her long golden-locks swirl in the cool breeze as she tightens her hold on my jacket.
"Kirisaki-san…" my voice trails.
My heart races as a smile comes to her lips, "Arigato, Ichijo-kun (Thank you)."
I shake off her thanks, pull her into my chest and rest my head against her red-bow, "You should know: I'm the kind of guy that worries about the people he cares about, especially you, Kirisaki-san."
As I held her there in the midst of the rushing lives of the Japan sidewalk, something sparked inside me—a feel that I have felt before. It feels like an itching in your palms, anxiety, relief, madness, fear and exhaustive joy.
.
.
.
The plastic bags ruffle as we exit the convenient store together and a brisk breeze welcomes us to the outside world.
When I hear a slight shiver from beside me I gaze for to Chitoge to see her shoulders shaking softly. "Cold?" I stop in my tracks.
"J-just a little," Chitoge grins.
My eyes are drawn to her nose as the tip turns to a ruby-red and her cheeks turn pink from the slight chill in the air—lately it gets colder at night, and from the darkening in the sky it's nearly five or six.
I search the sidewalk and stop once I catch a glimpse of a sign, warm lights and people exiting a shop. "How about I take you up on that coffee?" I point towards a café in the distance.
Chitoge swirls around to see the comforting and warm sight of people sitting inside the café sipping from white-mugs. "I-I don't remember agreeing to getting coffee with you, or did I?" stutters in a blush.
I chuckle slight as I recall the text-message she sent me after having lunch on the roof. "Trust me you did."
Chitoge sighs as we begin our venture towards the tiny-cafe. "Matte (Wait)" she grasps my arm swiftly, I look over with a raised brow.
"Something wrong?" I question—maybe she remembered something she needs to do at home or something. Perhaps she saw someone she knows from school.
"I thought you had to get home and cook for your brother's?" she points out—I blink as I recall saying that earlier.
Quickly I pull out my phone and look at the time—4:58 PM—usually my family eats at six. If I think about the preparation of my mother's recipe, it shouldn't take me that long and the walk from Chitoge's house to mine isn't that long.
"We can take something to go," I instruct after thinking for a moment. "I'm not going to let you freeze on your way home," my eyes linger to her uniform: white blouse and skirt. "Plus, you aren't dressed for this kind of weather."
She doesn't argue either of my reasoning and continues to follow me to the café without a word.
As we enter the classic smell linger around my nose: coffee beans, fresh-baked goods and cinnamon—it's a welcoming scent from the cold.
I look over the busy atmosphere and notice the smiles on everyone's face. I guess the service here is really good since all the customers seem happy. Maybe I should come here again with Chitoge—when we don't have to head home but to sit and have something warm together. That would be nice.
My eyes look over the selection of drinks—they so many that it's a little overwhelming.
"What would you like, Kirisaki-san?" I nudge over to Chitoge whose eyes are glues to the menu.
"Hijō ni ōku no… (So many)" she gawks in amazement. "I can't decide."
I smirk slightly for her amazement—she looks like a kid in a candy-store. "Want me to pick for you then?" I sigh and she nods.
"Welcome to Chai," a familiar voice greets from behind the counter. "What can I get for you two today?"
I look down from the sign and tense for the sight—the long sandy-blonde hair pulled back into a pony-tail, the white apron and dark-turquois eyes—it's the guy from earlier, the one that beat up the guy harassing Onodera in the hallway.
"Shun," I sudden say without hesitation.
His calm eyes don't waver for his name, "You're Ichijo Raku, right?"
"Hai (Yeah)" I simply answer. "I should thank you for earlier—"
"You don't have to," he slyly answers. "By the way, my full name is Matuso Shun," he corrects me.
I flinch for the name—this is the guy I'm tutoring for my teacher? He doesn't look like he's in class F-5. He looks like any normal student that goes to our school.
"Gomen (Sorry)" I say before looking over to the vixen—she's bent down in front of display case, eyeing deserts through the glass. "E to… (Um)" I hum with my eyes on the blonde. "Can I get one of those?"
Shun looks over to the display-case and nods, "Hitotsu no shinamonrōru (One cinnamon roll)" he repeats, "Would you like it to go or here?"
"Shite kudasai idō suru ni wa (To go, please)" I say as I pull out my wallet from my pocket. "Also, one chai chocolate and coffee," I order.
Shun nods as he types the order into the machine quickly, "What is in your coffee?"
"Two cream and three sugar," I sigh while searching for yen in my wallet as the total flashes on the screen.
Once paying Shun he starts to complete the order. He moves flawlessly behind the counter: placing the roll into a box, making the Chai Chocolate and coffee—it's seems like he's been doing this for a long time.
"Matuso-kun?" a gentle voice sings from the kitchen.
"Hai (Yes)" Shun says without glancing at the woman and continues his work.
"What time do you have to go?" she timidly asks.
"Around six," he quickly answers before presenting my order and residing the meal.
Chitoge squeals happily for the cinnamon roll in the box and looks over to me, "I could've bought my own stuff, bean-sprout," she begins.
I set my bags down and pull my jacket from my arms. "It's my treat since I'm holding you up," I tell her and slip my jacket onto her shoulders. "Besides, I did ignore you for quite a while before. This can be my final apology."
"Baka (idiot)" she says with gently eyes. "Sometimes you're too nice to me."
"I have to keep my gorilla happy. I don't need some-kind of King-Kong moment happening in Tokyo," I chuckle, pick-up my bags and coffee.
"I would kick you right now, but you'd drop your coffee," she growls slightly with her bright-eyes on the box within her grasps.
"Thanks," I simply say before we head out of the shop.
.
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It didn't take long to get to Chitoge's house after the café—actually the entire walk was mostly the vixen gawking over the hot-chocolate and asking me about different things: my brother's, plans after high-school, favorite food and hobbies. It was like she was trying to get my life-story.
I didn't mind—I wish we could've walked longer, but sadly it had to end for today.
My eyes look up to the gate and house as Chitoge sighs. "I wish we could walk longer, bean-sprout," she pouts.
"Sounds like you can't get enough of me," I tease with a slight smirk.
"Get over yourself," the vixen chirps before we both become silent.
The fall-like breeze kisses my face as I look over the window—the shadow of a man comes into view from the top and I look away with a slight discomfort—it's most likely her Uncle.
If he saw me standing here too long he'll come-out in a huff, yell at me and what-not, even run to Tsugumi about: not protecting her cousin from some convict like me. I don't think I or Tsugumi want to hear his nonsense right now—she's probably stressed out about her the karate-club and advertising during the race.
The life of a captain.
"I should get going," I announce; the vixen perks for my words as I start down the sidewalk. "See you later."
As I walk farther from the house I hear something—footsteps on the cement.
I freeze and my body rocks as two arms wrap around my torso, a face buries into the heap in my back and two gentle hands grasp my white-fabric. "Kyō, Ichijō-kun o arigatō (Thanks for today, Ichijo-kun)" she whispers into my back.
A blush comes to my cheeks for the gesture and place a hand one of hers. "No wa itsuka sore o yatte mimashou (Let's do it against sometime)" I smile as her breath crawls through the fabric of my uniform, leaving her scent on my clothing.
"Hai (Yes)" she agrees before the warmth vanishes from my back and the vixen scurries to her front-door. "Bye-bye, bean-sprout!" she waves and I wave back.
Once she vanishes into the house I feel the same feeling as earlier creep into my heart.
~ Remember Us ~
The blade cuts through the cabbage as I aimlessly stare down at the vegetable and steel knife—I can't get her out of head—the vixen has some-how pulled me into a never-ending trance.
I keep thinking about her, about what happened on the way: her bright smile, emotional waves of blue, the way her nose and cheeks perked red from the cold, how my jacket fit perfectly on her shoulders and her endless questions.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I've fallen for Chitoge before. How could I forget the stalker and overprotective prick she brought out in me? Simple, I couldn't.
This, this is much different. I can recall being unchanged in the first-stages of my obsession with the blonde—minus the aftermath of overthinking things and trying to figure out my feelings, but this is different—it's intense.
I place the knife down and lean over the wooden-cutting board.
Since separating from Chitoge: I can't stop thinking about her (which is normal), my body is tingling uncomfortably (that's different), my fingers are itchy and I don't recall touch any weird plants or spices.
I feel completely uncomfortable right now.
"What's the matter?" I tense as the sound of the fridge door closing fills the air.
"Don't eat too much," I brush away my discomfort and continue cooking. "Dinners almost done."
He narrows his brown eyes as he walks around the counter to face me. "You're avoiding my question, Raku," the red-head states as he takes a cringing bit of an apple. "You never avoid questions."
"Keep taking like that and you make me seem completely self-absorbed," such a reply makes Kosuke snort and raise a brow along with his apple.
"Something happened, huh?" my brother leans over the counter annoyingly.
I look away from his eyes and continue the meal—Kosuke is the last person to turn to when it comes to love or something along those lines. I will admit that he can give me advice on anything else, but not love, he's never experienced such a feeling for another person… only cars.
"Nani demo arimasen (it's nothing)," I try but he doesn't buy it.
"Īe (Nah)" he chuckles teasingly. "Something is definitely up," Kosuke says as he pushes away from the counter.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I sigh while I wipe my hands on the apron. "I think all those car fumes are finally making you insane."
Kosuke laughs playfully for the jab and peers at my form—it feels like I'm an ant under a microscope. The lens is huge in my tiny eyes, lights way too bright and glass cold on legs as this…person, looks at me through a scope.
A chill runs down my spine just from imagining such a sight.
"Your falling in love again"—what?!
I freeze for Kosuke's quick analyst—that would explain a lot about how I feel right now.
Could I seriously fall in love with Chitoge all over again? It's not the same as lost time, but then again, it's been years since I first fall in love with the vixen. Did it really feel like this? No, no it couldn't have—I don't really remember being uncomfortable or anything remotely like that. But, back then I was an awkward teenager who just wanted to get through high-school and get a girlfriend; now I'm nearly an adult and have some-what of a plan—did I change that much?
"I'll take the long pause as a yes," Kosuke snickers as he brings the fruit to his lips.
When I think about it, it makes sense. During the walk I couldn't take my eyes off Chitoge, I said things that would embarrass me otherwise—giving her my jacket, buying drinks and food, it was like a date! Plus several signs of tender-care and admiration.
"Oi, Raku," Kosuke places a hand on my shoulder. "Come on, it's not that bad. At least it's the same girl—"
"No it's not," I interrupt; Kosuke flinch for my sudden voice and looks at me with confusion. "This is a different side of Chitoge that I've never encountered before."
"What're you talking about?" Kosuke sighs. "It's the same girl."
"No, it's the same body and mind but a different personality," I lean against the counter and look over the disarray of food. "I know it sounds weird, trust me I know," I tell him. "But the girl I fall for the first time wasn't like this—she didn't show weakness this easily, never opened up unless I picked at her for it, she would never (in a million years) do cutesy things like this."
Kosuke rubs the back of his neck roughly and looks over the kitchen in silence, "Sounds like that theory about the brain."
"Which one?" I perk.
"The art side and the mathematical side," the red-head points to his head as he explains. "You know, they say: the right-side is more creative and artistic than the left. People who think with the left-side of the brain are usually straight to the point, assertive, dull and statistical."
"How does that reality to this?" I raise a brow for his theory—I remember the teacher going over this once or twice while handing back test-marks. Apparently telling students that their grades are different because of the way they think is more effective than saying: you suck at this subject.
"Well, Kirisaki-san is the type of girl that is loud and aggressive—she's a total tsundere type," he points out, "I mean: she does things and tells you something else—like: make you chocolates on white-day. She'll stay up all night making them, come to school, give them to you along with a punch and say something like: I accidently made too much, so here".
"That's exactly what she would say," I chuckle lightly.
"Exactly," Kosuke sighs. "Perhaps the accident some-how pushed that side of her back a bit, and let the cutesy side of Chitoge-san out to play—it's crazy, but shit happens."
"Grandma and grandpa were right," I smirk and the red-head perks. "You could've been a doctor or something."
"Don't preach that bullshit to me," Kosuke glares.
"But I'm glad you didn't," I pat his shoulder. "You'd be overbearing as a doctor and probably some sex-crazed guy in a lab-coat who sleeps with nurses in the broom-closet or his office."
I watch as his face twist with the thought, "You're probably right."
"Trust me, I know I'm right."
~Remember Us~
After dinner I'm left with nothing to do—usually I would do homework to keep my skills sharp, but the teacher didn't assign any to the class which seems pointless. I've seen some of my class-mate's grades and they need all the homework they can get.
Regardless I still have a little work to do since I'll start tutoring Shun tomorrow—I still can't get over the fact: he looks like a normal student. Honestly, when I made the deal with the teacher, I thought Shun would be some big, drooling and loud-mouth guy who wears sun-glasses twenty-four-seven along with the phrase: 'Gotta' problem with that, punk?'—but he's none of those things.
Actually, he's a pretty good-looking guy, there'd be tones of girls who would want to date him. But then again, most of the girls at our school want a guy with brains and a romantic-heart. Maybe that's why I'm so popular and loved by the student-body.
Besides me and the school fan-girls—Shun seems like that type of guy in manga's, books, anime's and movies. He's prince-like—I mean, the way he saved Onodera and beat-up that guy was incredible. Then his eyes and hair give a vibe that he has another culture in his veins—maybe American or Britain—he some-what looks like Chitoge but more cool, calm and quiet.
If that's the case, I should start him off with some English and Writing work. Not to mention the report-card results the teacher gave me at the end of the day, show that Shun's best subjects are English and writing. Perhaps he wants to be a writer or something along those lines.
I huff as I toss the book onto the desk and lean back into the leather chair while my eyes rest on the blank ceiling. It seems like my idea of creating work-plans have turned into questions and assumptions about Shun—it's never productive.
Maybe this is too much for me to handle—I mean, I may be smart and first rank in marks, but that doesn't make me a qualified teacher. I should tell sensei this is too much for a mere student like me to handle—teaching another student? One in the bottom class and with the last ranking—like hell I can deal with that responsibility.
Then again, how many teachers and tutors have given up on Shun? Probably tons—heck, there's been teacher who've stormed out of F-5 because none of the students were absorbing the material like their supposed to.
When I think about it, it's quite sad really. To think there's a group of students who're being deprived of an education because teaching books aren't fitted to their way of learning—for all those frightful teachers know the person to find the cure for cancer can be in that class, even the next great inventor (anything can happen).
I can't give up on Shun! I just can't!
Standing from the chair I look over the room we call: "the library" aka, Yui's room. It's a decent size and well-made since she forced a group of my construction-talented brothers to build the attachment to the house.
There's an extra-long explanation to this room, but to break it down: my sister collected books throughout the years. Mostly science, history, language and geography but there are some teaching techniques 101 (somewhere). I should know since she used it them on me not too long ago—I just have to find them.
My eyes wonder over the dusty bookshelves covered with red, blue, green and brown spine leather books—their Yui's babies.
"Something for teaching," I whisper; tapping my finger against my lip I look over the books.
Greek History 101—Biology 101—Geography 101—Psychic's 101—Anthropology 101. Where's teaching 101?
Sighing in defeat I pull out my phone and dial my sister's number. Knowing Yui she knows exactly where to find the book, even though she's far away right now and hasn't been in this room for about three months.
As the phone rings in my ear I run a finger over the wooden shelve and narrow my eyes for the thick layer of dust that covered my finger. "I should really clean this place—deep cleaning to be prosiest," I mutter.
I've never really cleaned this room since Yui took care of it, plus she didn't want me to "harm" any of her precious books.
"Moshi! Moshi! (Hello)" a familiar cheerful voice sings through the device. "This is Sensei K—"
"Yui-chan, where's your teaching books?" I cut her off; every-time I call her she answers the phone like that—I think she enjoys stating her line of work or she's just waiting for some random online-guy to contact her.
"R-Raku?" the teacher stutters.
I narrow an eye, "You make it seem like I can't contact my older sister, what's with that?"
"You can call me all you want!" Yui snaps through the phone. I can picture her sitting at her desk marking test at the moment, probably from the sudden sound of papers being ruffled in the background. "What did you call me for anyways? You barely call me, which is pathetic since I'm your one and only sister! And I'm your sensei!"
I hold the phone from my ear as she begins to lecture me about crap I've heard several times—what would you do if I died tomorrow and you never called me?—Blah, blah, blah!
"Will you shut-up for a second?" I say in irritation.
"What bit you in the ass today?" she snaps like a dog during a fight.
"I'm tired, emotionally confused, thinking and completely frustrated. Last thing I need is some bull-shit lecture through the phone, got it?" I growl with a narrow eye. At the moment I don't know what's going on with my feelings for Chitoge, also, I'm exhausted from Kendo practice and frustrated with the whole teaching Shun thing.
"You're the most stressed and frustrated high-school guy I've never met," Yui sighs and clicks a pen.
"Not a lot of guys have been through what I have," I say as I skim through a book before placing back in place. "Anyways, where's your teaching books? I can't find them."
Yui hums through the phone as she ponders over her little room, most likely imagining her personal library and her books placement. "In the deck draw on the left—wait, teaching?! Raku don't tell me—"
"Hate to burst your bubble, Yui-chan, but I love business and want to be the family's heir to success. So, no, I don't want to be a teacher," I state with a soft glow to my cheeks.
I can't lie—besides the vixen and my love for her, I adore business. My grandparents like to think of me as: the chosen one because I'm the only son of my father who wants to take our business branches. Everyone was worried that there would be no one to take my dad's place at the head of the family, but once I started learning about business in school—I couldn't resist the subject.
"I still don't understand why you like business so much. It's boring," my sister whines through the phone.
"We all have different preferences—like you love teaching and Kosuke adores cars. I just love business, there's no reason why I do but I do," I answer her.
Opening the desk I see the books she told me about and snicker for the title: "Teaching for Dummies 101". I found it amusing to know my sister, one working with privileged kids, used a dummies-guide to educate such a high-status class.
"If that's the case, then why do you need my books? I've got nothing on business," she points and I narrow my eyes for her words.
Sitting back in the chair I begin to look through the pages of the yellow covered novel. "I'm tutoring a guy from F-5 and wanted to see if there's anything that can help."
"F-5? Did you do something wrong? Fail a test?" Yui chirps—it's no wonder she knows about the reputation of F-5. She graduated from my high-school just like the rest of my siblings. It's easy to say: the Ichijo family has made the school our own—literally, one of our branches funds the school and helps with events. I think it's my father's way of saying: 'thank you for educating all my off-springs, even though they can be a handful at times.'
"No, it's just a favor," I answer Yui—that's all she needs to know.
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Happy Tuesday everyone!
I hope everyone is having a good day so far—honestly I hope you are since I've been through the shitty days and know the feeling!
Anyways, tell me what you thought about the chapter. I lover hearing your thoughts.
Also, the race will be in about a chapter or two—I might do it like I did the training, if you know what I mean. If you have any suggestions please tell me in review or message since it's my first time doing this kind of thing.
Anyways, until next Tuesday.
~BleachLover2346