FORGOT

Ever since she woke up, Izumi had been nursing the faint suspicion that something was amiss.

She looked at her agenda for forgotten homework, but it was rare to have any assignments due before a major holiday, and this time was no exception.

The digital clock on her nightstand said, very clearly, Friday MAR 1. Besides kendo practice, Izumi never scheduled anything on a Friday. Every other day of the week was fair game for club duties and classwork, but Fridays belonged to her and her alone. Not even Kouji was allowed to violate her weekly Sabbath. It had taken weeks for her to figure out how to get him to leave her alone, but she eventually succeeded by taking his sword hostage.

Not his shinai, mind you. He didn't care about the worn out bamboo sword that he used for practice and competition. It was a rental from a nearby dojo. To the best of her knowledge, Kouji had never actually bought himself a shinai, which didn't seem terribly practical for the captain of the kendo club – but she had long stopped questioning her significant other when it came to swords. His pride wouldn't let him waste the money on a shinai when he already owned a beautiful steel katana that would do the job just fine, thank you very much. It must have been expensive as hell, because the craftsmanship on its delicately curved blade was flawless. He was insanely protective of that sword, with good reason.

Izumi only learned about its existence when Kouji brought it to school on a whim. She could still remember the sensation of a perfectly balanced metal blade in her hands…hell, it was worth spending so much time around a bastard like him if he let her play with that sword every once in a while.

She shook herself from the daydream. Now was not the time to be thinking about Kouji's katana. Now was not the time to be thinking about Kouji at all, actually. With renewed purpose, she dug through her desk. She didn't have any new messages on her phone, or on her answering machine, or in her inbox, or anywhere else.

It was impossible to shake the feeling that something was wrong, but Izumi couldn't figure out why.

So, naturally, she ignored the niggling suspicion and went on with her day.

That is, until she opened the door and was ambushed by a faceful of pom-poms.

"Orimoto-saaaan," screamed the pom-poms.

"That's me," she said faintly, wondering if she needed to dial 110.

The pom-poms lifted and a panicked face emerged from the depths of the frilly plastic strings. Long black hair was hanging between the face and the pom-poms, probably the result of running up three flights of stairs.

Izumi blinked. "What on earth?"

"Orimoto-san, I need your help!" the strange girl cried. Her limbs latched onto Izumi's arm and started dragging.

Izumi dug her heels in, but to no avail. Whoever this girl was, she was surprisingly strong, if not strong enough to pose a threat in a real fight. Izumi could have braced herself against the wall and kicked the girl away, but she decided against it. Using excessive force against an inexperienced opponent wasn't good kendo, no matter what the circumstances.

They charged through the corridor and out of the dorms, where two brunette girls were waiting. All three wore the same blue and white cheerleading outfit, pom-poms and all. Escorted by the team of determined teenagers, Izumi soon found herself on a grass field, right in the middle of soccer practice.

Soccer…? She started scanning the field suspiciously, looking for a familiar face. Kanbara noticed her at the same time she noticed him. He waved her down with an easy grin and started walking toward the sidelines. "Sup, Orimoto?"

"What the hell is going on?" she demanded, glaring at the gaggle of girls around her.

He shrugged. "I dunno. Why're you here?"

"Why don't you ask them?" With difficulty, she wrested her right arm free and gestured to her kidnappers.

Kanbura Takuya was happy to do just that. He slung his arm around the black-haired girl, the one who had pulled Izumi out of her room. "Hey, Mina-chan, what's going on?"

Izumi stared.

Oh. So this was Mina.

The girl beamed and whispered conspiratorially into his ear. Whatever it was, it took her almost five minutes to explain. Izumi waited impatiently for Kanbura to pass the message on.

The soccer star, unfortunately, was a lot more interested in sliding his hand down the cheerleader's back. Izumi rolled her eyes and wondered if they had forgotten she was there. "So?" she interrupted quickly before they could get too distracted.

Kanbura grinned at Izumi, but didn't let go of Mina. Typical. "Sorry, sorry. What was the question?"

"Why did they bring me here?" she asked slowly, trying to gauge whether Kanbura's attention was on her or on his girlfriend's cleavage.

"Oh, right!" he snapped his fingers and looked at Mina. Yeah, definitely the cleavage. "So, uh…why'd you do it, again?"

How helpful.

She gave her frantic kidnappers a stern look. The two brunettes looked uncomfortable and guilty. Mina, clearly the leader of the group, started to explain, "Well, you see, it's like this…"

"Tell me again how you managed to talk me into this," Izumi muttered.

Mina rearranged the ribbons in her hair. "Because you want to help us, of course!"

"Of…course." Well, not really, but Izumi didn't have to heart to tell her that.

The taller girl froze in the middle of fiddling with the knot. "You're not backing out, are you? Please please please! Today's the first game of the season, and we're missing almost five members, including all of our back-ups, and we really need more people, and you were the best choice!" She clasped Izumi's hands and shook them violently. "Pleeease?"

"Alright, alright," she said, just a little freaked out by the girl's outburst. "But why me?"

"Isn't it obvious? You're athletic and pretty and a total crowd pleaser."

She opened and closed her mouth soundlessly, not sure how to react to the odd compliment. When did she get a reputation as a crowd pleaser?

Mina must have read her mind, because she said brightly, "It's true! I know soooooo many guys who have a crush on you. And, uh, no offense, but we need the publicity, and you have no idea how many people would come just to see you in a skirt."

"You get plenty of publicity without me," Izumi said, purposefully avoiding the main point of the conversation. "I've been to our home games before." Well, technically, she had only been to one…but one was more than enough. She had been too distracted by the terrible body paint that her friends smeared on her face to enjoy the game.

"But we'd get even more with you," Mina pointed out. Then, with a mischievous grin, she added, "Some of those guys are really hot. Want me to introduce them?"

"Those guys?"

"The ones who have a crush on you," Mina explained impatiently.

Izumi grimaced. "I hope," she said faintly, "that you don't tell Kouji about any of them, hot or not."

The other girl broke into a huge grin. "Awww. Does he get jealous?"

"I guess," Izumi mumbled, because he probably would.

"That's so cute!" the girl squealed. "Wow, he's just like a typical boyfriend, huh? Who woulda thought?"

Izumi looked at her blankly. "He's not my boyfriend."

"He…isn't?" Mina faltered visibly.

"No."

"Oh," the cheerleader murmured, clearly disappointed. "But…Takuya said…"

She was going to kill him later. "We're not dating," she repeated, in a voice that brooked no arguments.

"But you're always together."

"He's the captain, I'm his vice…captain."

"That's it?" Mina asked doubtfully. "I thought you were best friends at least."

Izumi blinked. Kouji? Best friend? Kouji? No freaking way. Kouji just wasn't best friend material.

Mina noticed her discomfort and quickly changed the subject. "You know, I really envy you."

"You do?" Izumi was genuinely surprised. There was only one thing about herself that she really took pride in, and that was kendo. She doubted that a girl like Mina would be jealous of that.

"Yeah." Mina looked almost upset for a brief moment. "People look at you after you win a match and they say that you must've worked really hard to do that and that it's so amazing that you can beat the boys. But people look at us and they don't realize that it actually takes a lot of time and energy and drilling to get ready for a game. You know, they even say that if you don't make the cheers look completely effortless, you're not doing it right."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean..." she laid her hand over her torso. "Most of the girls even wear padded bras because that's what people want to see."

Izumi stared at her, feeling oddly guilty. "Mina-san. Why did you become a cheerleader?"

The other girl gave her a brilliant, sudden smile. "Why? I mean, isn't it obvious? Because it's fun."

Yeah...Izumi could definitely understand that. Kendo was also a form of performance, if she thought about it. She suddenly felt much more comfortable about going out in this skimpy little uniform and helping them out with the show. There seemed to be more to it than shameless exhibition.

Mina suddenly brightened. "Oh, yeah! And there are always the cute guys, of course."

She laughed out loud. "Of course."

"Like Takuya," she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I feel so lucky, you know? He could probably get a prettier girl if he wanted, but he likes me."

"I can see why," she replied, smiling indulgently.

Mina blinked.

"Mina-san," she said patiently, "There aren't any prettier girls at the University. You realize this, right?"

She actually turned bright red. "No way. What about Sakura-sempai? Or Keiko-chan? Or – "

Izumi felt oddly...girly for taking part in this conversation. It wasn't a bad feeling. "I don't know about that. But, you know, I've never understood the point of ranking girls based on how pretty they are..."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Glancing curiously at Izumi, Mina asked, "Have you thought about ranking the boys, though?"

Izumi shook her head. "That doesn't make any sense to me either."

"But sometimes it's really obvious. Like, Shibayama and Minamoto. Obviously, Minamoto is way hotter."

She snorted. "It's his only redeeming characteristic."

Mina's eyes glittered mischievously. "Well then, why are you on better terms with Minamoto than Shibayama?"

"I'm not," she protested, which was clearly a lie.

Mina grinned even wider. "Sooo? What do you like most about him?"

"Nothing really – I don't really like him." What was the saying - give an inch, take a mile?

"C'mon, you can tell me! You just admitted that he was hot!"

"Okay," Izumi rolled her eyes, "Yes, he's attractive. But he's not relationship material."

"Well," Mina murmured slyly, "maybe he just needs the right girl? Or maybe he's just shy?"

"He's not shy."

"Ahaha, okay, okay. But maaaaaybe if you give him a push in the right direction...like, with mistletoe or something?"

"Trust me," she said dryly, "he doesn't need any excuses to do that sort of thing." Oh. Shit. Did she really just say that out loud?

Mina – along with everyone else within earshot – turned to stare at her. Then the whole room broke into excited, congratulatory chatter.

Izumi shut her mouth with a click and vowed not to open it again for the rest of the day.

From there, things spiraled even more out of control.

Oh, the game was fine. Her cheering was also fine, surprisingly enough. But then she saw Kouji and the rest of the team standing at the sidelines halfway through, and she stopped moving so suddenly that Mina had to shake her by the shoulder to see what was wrong.

Kouji, naturally, marched right up to her, completely ignoring the referee's shout of warning.

Izumi expected a lot of things when she saw him. Kouji was not the type to quickly forgive people for missing practice. She readied herself for an angry rant of epic proportions. Maybe even a few profanities thrown in for good measure. Instead, much to the shock of every other student within hearing distance, he examined Izumi's outfit and commented, "Cute."

She almost died. "What?"

"It's cute," he repeated.

Izumi couldn't stop gaping.

Kouji scratched his head slightly. "What?"

"Nowa…I…wha…"

"I don't understand," he told her impatiently.

"Totimdu," she finished intelligently.

"What?"

"I thought I misheard you," Izumi repeated, this time much more understandably.

"Misheard what?"

"Did you just use the word cute?"

He instantly became defensive. "What, you want me to call you ugly?"

"Well, no…"

"Then don't complain. It's a compliment. Take it or leave it."

God, she probably had a maniacal grin on her face right now. "Thank you," she replied, dogging him as they made their way to the rest of the kendo team.

Instead of saying "You're welcome," like a normal person, he gave her a semi-offended look. "You don't have to thank me. I was just stating a fact."

Izumi rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Sure."

"What? It's true."

"I'm just surprised that you actually noticed my appearance."

He stopped walking and just stared at her for a while. Then he said, matter-of-factly, "Izumi, we've had sex."

She glared at him. "I know. What does that have to do with anything?"

A disbelieving look crossed his face. "It has everything to do with it."

"I hope you're not saying that you only slept with me because I'm pretty," Izumi said critically. Then she cringed. Calling herself pretty was just so…egotistical.

Kouji scoffed. "Trust me, that's not it."

She glanced at him.

He sighed. "Okay, maybe part of it, but not all."

"Kouji!"

"How shallow do you want me to be, Izumi?" he snapped. "I like the way you look. You've got an amazing figure. Hell, I – " he glanced around to make sure that no one was listening to them, but there were a few students who were openly pointing and whispering, so he broke off. "Never mind."

"What? You can't just leave me hanging like - "

"Izumi," he said patiently, "We have plenty of time to talk later."

That was true. He sat on the bleachers and patted the spot next to him. She sat down obediently and they watched the game silently, without even commenting sarcastically to each other. It was interesting enough, but she would have preferred a kendo competition instead. Towards the end she started dozing off from sheer exhaustion, only to be jarred awake hours later by a rocking motion.

Kouji was carrying her on his back.

And she was still wearing the cheerleading outfit.

If she had been fully awake and aware of herself, she would have been embarrassed, but she didn't think about the people watching them. At this point, it was too late to deny anything anyways. She forgot about the game, and the missing cheerleaders in the squad. She didn't give a crap about the rest of the world in general. It was just too nice to lie there, thinking about everything that had happened on her very unorthodox Friday.

"Hey," she murmured, half-asleep on his shoulder. "I still can't believe you called me cute today."

"To be honest, I can't either."

"Naturally, O Stoic One." She smiled drowsily. A strange thought suddenly struck her. "You...wouldn't mind if I became a cheerleader, right?"

"Please don't. It'd be so much harder to get people to come to practice if even the vice-captain doesn't attend."

"Stupid," she mumbled, "I wasn't talking about cheerleading for soccer."

"Then what...?"

"Well, I know it's not traditional for kendo, but maybe...?"

He tilted his head, earnestly considering the idea. "I...wouldn't ask you to do something like that," he said finally.

"No?" she was genuinely curious to hear his rationale. On a purely logical level, it would make sense to have somebody to do a little cheering for the sake of the team's morale. Everybody could always use a little more motivation to do their best at matches. Even if there was no obvious benefit, it wouldn't do any harm, would it? And Kouji certainly didn't mind the way she looked in a cheerleading uniform...

He was silent for the longest time. Just when she concluded that he was actively avoiding the question, he stopped moving and let her slide down. Then he turned around and laid his hands on her waist.

She gawked at him.

"Listen very, very closely, Miss Vice Captain," he said quietly, but commandingly. "I'm only gonna say this once."

"Okay," she said, just as quietly and seriously.

"I don't want you to be a cheerleader because I'm a selfish bastard. I'm a selfish bastard because I like the way you look in this uniform. I'm a selfish bastard because I don't want anybody else looking at you the way I do. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes."

"Now, wipe that stupid grin off your face, because I'm going to kiss you, and I don't give a shit if this appears on the campus newspaper tomorrow."

"Yes," she said, but the stupid grin that he mentioned was so stubborn that it was the first thing she saw in his bathroom mirror the next morning.