Title: Stumble and Fall

Author: Avelynn Tame

Disclaimer: I do not own Gokusen.

Summary: A new teacher has arrived at Shirokin, and he's not bothering to hide his attraction to the homeroom teacher of a certain delinquent class. 3-D greet him with their usual kindness and warmth, but Yankumi is far more interested in the reaction of one Sawada Shin…

Author's Notes: Crikey. In view of the fact that I had planned to update much sooner than this (believe me), and that I want to get this story finished before my final exams in June, I am going to upload two chapters this week. Look out for Chapter Twelve in a couple of days! (It's almost done, just needs a little tweaking.)


Chapter Eleven

Her fury eclipsed everything else.

It made her heart run wild, it made her arms and legs shake, and it took away every other feeling she had in her.

I am no longer a person, she thought. I am just anger in a human body.

She knew that at the beginning, they had doubted her. They had thought she was like all the other teachers they'd ever known; that she would fail them, time and time again, and eventually would walk away from them altogether because leaving was easier than staying and trying to do something to improve the situation.

Except, of course, she hadn't left.

She'd stood next to them and defended them, believed in them when no-one else would, fought for them, shed blood, sweat and tears for them. She'd done all of that because she was their teacher, but more than that, because she fucking loved those boys like they were her own family.

The pain she felt when she realised that none of that mattered to them – that they still doubted her, and thought she was like all the rest, that all that time had been wasted…

It had crushed her. In the women's bathroom, safe inside a locked cubicle, the hot tears had poured down her cheeks as she stifled her sobs with her hand.

It had never mattered that they didn't like her, or that they thought she was weird, or even that their respect was hard to gain and never seemed to last long. None of that had been important. The only thing she had ever wanted was their trust.

She'd thought that, if nothing else, at least she had that.

But she'd been wrong. And it fucking hurt.

It was later, after all the tears had been shed, that the anger had come back – stronger and darker than she'd ever known it. It made her feel unbalanced and out of control.

It made her feel like she was losing her mind.

She loved her boys, but at that moment she really wanted to beat the crap out of them. She wanted to punch something. She wanted to make them see how much time and energy she had used up just for them, because she cared about them.

But the thing that she wanted most of all was to see Sawada Shin.

Because in a weird, distinctly un-teacher-like way, she felt as though if she could see him and talk to him, she might just be able to stay sane after all.

Maybe I do love him, she thought hazily through the fog of anger and misery clouding her mind – and felt utterly astonished when she realised that the idea wasn't as appalling as it once would have been.


After she'd gone, they'd sat in stagnant silence, wallowing in their frustration and guilt. No-one had been able to think of anything useful to say, and Shin thought that if he opened his mouth he would only have ended up yelling at them anyway.

Truth be told, he was more than a little angry at himself – he ought to have spoken up sooner. He'd assumed that the others would take out their ire on Maruyama, not Yankumi. Certainly not like that – the bitter, angry sniping of jealous children.

He felt a pang of guilt as he remembered the brief glimpse of hurt he'd seen in her eyes as she turned away from them.

He might not have been one of the boys who'd attacked her, but he hadn't done anything to stop them, either.

He suppressed a sigh. Something like this could really, seriously mess up the class dynamic. If they apologised, she would probably forgive them, but for all he knew, this could have lasting damage.

While he was considering this, it became clear that something else was going on.

A large part of the class had started to huddle together on one side of the room, muttering and whispering amongst themselves. From within the huddle, Horibe stuck his head out and gestured to Uchi. Uchi shifted uncomfortably in his seat, hesitating for a few seconds before apparently giving in and traipsing miserably towards the group.

Noda followed a few minutes later.

Shin exchanged puzzled, suspicious glances with Minami and Kuma. He could see Chikamatsu at the centre of the huddle, gesturing and drawing outlines of something with his fingers in the air. He frowned, his eyes narrowed and alert. He had a very distinct feeling that whatever they were up to, it couldn't be good. And he definitely didn't think that it had anything to do with apologising to Yankumi.


In the end, she had left 3-D alone for the entire period, then gone to do the last class of the day with 3-A. Her anger had hardly abated, however, and she didn't bother going to do the register when the school day was over. She somehow thought that if she did, she would end up saying things she would later regret.

"Come on," Fujiyama tapped her shoulder. "Let's go."

She'd agreed to go to Fujiyama's apartment before the date, as it served several purposes all at once – one, it meant that she could agree to be picked up by Maruyama without worrying that she'd have to explain her not-quite-normal house, and two, Fujiyama had agreed to do her hair for her (since she had correctly predicted that, if left to her own devices, Kumiko would simply blast it with a hairdryer and leave it at that).

Also… Kumiko didn't really mind Fujiyama all that much. And she supposed that it was probably good for her to have at least one female friend.

Of course, she hadn't realised that Fujiyama considered the words 'beauty treatment' to be synonymous with 'torture'.

"Ow, ow, owww!" she yelled. "What the hell are you doing back there?"

"I am – ugh – doing you a favour," Fujiyama grunted. "And a big one, too. How do you manage to brush your hair with all these knots?"

"There's nothing wrong with a few knots," Kumiko muttered defensively.

"This is not 'a few'," Fujiyama snapped. "My God, woman, you need a whole team of people to sort this mess out."

For all of Fujiyama's snippy comments, however, she managed to tame Kumiko's hair in a matter of minutes. She spent a while playing around with it, trying to pin it up or style it, and each time undoing her handiwork with a frustrated sigh.

"Just leave it loose," Kumiko suggested for the millionth time, but she was once again ignored.

Then the curling tongs came out, and Kumiko began to think that she would have preferred the awkward conversation with Maruyama about her family instead of this hell.

By the time Maruyama arrived, she'd had her ears burned with the tongs at least three times ("No, you do not need to go to the hospital," Fujiyama had barked. "Now shut up and put the dress on."), but she could grudgingly accept that her hair looked decent, and she'd escaped with the bare minimum of make-up.

"Remember," Fujiyama hissed as she opened the front door, "be sexy!" And then she was unceremoniously shoved out of the apartment.

"Hi," said Maruyama pleasantly. He looked her over appreciatively, and she felt a blush rising to her cheeks. "You look wonderful."

She shifted uncomfortably. "Thank you. You, uh… you look nice, too."

"Thanks." He offered her his arm. "Ready to go?"

"Sure." She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, feeling a little awkward. Just a couple of hours, she reminded herself. Then it'll be over.

She discovered, during the journey to the restaurant, that Maruyama had secured a reservation by means of 'a friend of a friend'.

"You're well-connected, aren't you?" she observed. "First the cinema, now this. Is there something I should know?"

"Like…"

"Like, you're secretly of royal blood?"

His lips twitched. "Ah, you found out. I'd hoped you never would." He feigned a wistful sigh. "I just want to live a normal life, you know?"

She laughed. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." She felt the knots loosen in her stomach, and her sense of unease began to dissipate. This was how it was supposed to be – friendly banter between the two of them. If it could be as relaxed as this for the rest of their date, she thought she might even enjoy the evening.

At the restaurant they were shown to a beautiful table on the terrace, hidden from view by the low branches of the maple trees. The red-gold leaves rustled in the light breeze, and she could smell the faint scent of the flowers blooming on the ground nearby, tough little perennials blooming even with winter just around the corner. She didn't bother to hide the fact that she was impressed.

The maitre d' came to greet Maruyama personally, having apparently met him a number of times before (presumably through the 'friend of a friend'). He smiled knowingly at Kumiko when Maruyama introduced her, and made vague statements about romance, and moonlight, and "the smell of love on the autumn air." Kumiko smiled politely and held her tongue, but Maruyama joined in on a similar wavelength, talking about how it was "a beautiful night to be shared with someone special" and so on until she wanted to crawl under the table and hide there for the rest of the night.

Finally the maitre d' went away – with a promise to send his violinist over to serenade them later – and she tried to push past the embarrassment she felt by bringing the menu up in front of her face and pretending to find it extremely interesting.

"The fish looks good," she said lamely. "What do you think?"

"Yeah, I think so too. But I'm surprised – I thought you'd have the steak. Weren't you completely carnivorous back at university?"

She laughed in spite of herself. "Yeah, I guess I was. Did you used to think that was weird?"

He grinned. "No, not really. It was other things that I found weird."

"Other things?" she repeated, half-curious, half-worried. "Like… what?"

His smirk was decidedly evil. "Like, the words you sometimes say when you're all fired up – the ones that make you sound like you just stepped out of a Yakuza movie or something. And the random singing. Those things were weird."

She went back to hiding behind her menu. "Well, they make sense to me."

"Which makes them even weirder." His eyes sparkled with gentle mirth. "But don't worry. Your weirdness just makes you... intriguing."

She was incredibly grateful to the waiter for choosing to arrive at that exact moment and giving her an excuse to ignore what Maruyama had just said. Unfortunately, once their order had been taken, the waiter confiscated their menus – leaving her with nothing to hide behind.

"How's your little sister?" she asked, in an attempt to shift the focus onto him. "She was at university in Hokkaido, right?"

"She still is," he told her, pouring a healthy amount of wine into her glass – it was a 1990 Barolo, whatever that meant; the maitre d' had sent it over with a red rose tied to the neck of the bottle with a thin crimson ribbon. "She's in her final year now. She wants to go and study abroad next year."

She took a sip of the wine. "Has she decided what she wants to do in life?"

"Well, she's been talking about writing a book about the Aztecs or something – I don't know exactly, but I think she wants to do some kind of expedition in the future."

She smiled fondly. "Well, say hi from me next time you talk to her."

"Actually, I spoke to her a couple of days ago," he said sheepishly. "I was telling her all about how you and I are teaching together now. She thinks it's great." He glanced at her awkwardly. "I told her about the date, too. I hope that's okay."

"Um, yeah, that's okay." But her heart sank and she felt the nagging worry start to return. She'd just wanted to get through this and have it be over. But if other people knew, then there would be expectations. They would ask questions. They would want to know why they weren't going out again, and all sorts of other personal, embarrassing things.

"Kumiko-san," Maruyama was saying, "I've been meaning to talk to you – about this date, about our relationship…"

Oh, no. She sucked in a breath, horrified. She'd hoped they could avoid this topic if possible.

"Did Aiko-san ever tell you why we broke up?" he asked abruptly.

She stared at him, taken aback. "Um… what?" Aiko had been the friend at university who had introduced her to Maruyama in the first place – she had dated him for a couple of months, and then they had broken up in mysterious circumstances. "No – she never talked about it. Why?"

He glanced at her, barely meeting her eyes. "I broke up with Aiko-san because… because I liked you more."

Her hand, wrapped around her wine glass, went slack for a moment, and the glass tipped precariously. It would have slipped altogether if she hadn't regained control and set it firmly down on the table. "Maruyama-sensei – I mean, Takumi-san – I need to be clear about something." She took a deep breath, feeling a growing sense of relief as she prepared to be completely honest with him, once and for all.

Her phone rang, the shrill sound cutting through the silence, startling them both.

But what startled her even more was the name on the display. 'Sawada Shin.'


Yankumi had not returned to 3-D's classroom for the rest of the day, and Shin could hardly say he was surprised. He'd still stuck around, though, waiting to see if she would at least stick her head in if only to do the register after the last period.

The rest of the students – the ones who'd huddled together and started plotting something – had grown more and more restless with each passing minute, perched on the edges of their seats and looking as though they might leap up at any moment. Shin had expected them to leave well before the end of the last class – History, with the twitchy and boring Washio – but they stuck it out. When the bell rand, signalling that the class was over, he waited for them to stand up, grab their bags, and make a hasty departure.

Still they did not.

As the minutes passed, and it became clear that Yankumi wasn't coming, he realised something – they, like him, were waiting for her. They were hoping that she would return… and he watched them deflate slowly like leaky balloons as the door remained persistently shut.

The final bell rang, and Shin was the first to move. He, Minami and Kuma seemed to be some of the only students who hadn't been included in the rest of the class's plans, and as they walked together out of the school, they were finally able to discuss the subject openly. "You think it's got anything to do with Yankumi?" Kuma asked first.

"No," Shin replied, hands deep in his pockets. "No, I think this is something else."

"It's got to be related to the Meibi High guys," Minami muttered. "They were pretty pissed off about it."

The three of them lapsed into silence as they thought about this.

Minami was right, Shin thought. For as long as he'd known his classmates, they had always been easily provoked and prone to rash decisions in these situations. They would want to go and get revenge – and unfortunately, their argument with Yankumi had probably put them in a worse state of mind. Anger alone was bad enough, Shin had learnt in the past, but anger and guilt could be a nasty combination. Guilt had a way of making you feel as though you'd already done something bad, so how could anything else make things worse?

There was something else nagging at his mind… a faint feeling of having forgotten something. He couldn't place it, but it felt important. What the hell was it?

"Man, Yankumi was really steamed, huh?" Kuma broke the silence, attempting to sound cheerful and failing. "I've never seen her like that before."

"You think she'll get over it?" Minami asked.

Shin looked up to find them both watching him, waiting for an answer. "What's that look for?" he muttered. "How would I know?"

Kuma shrugged. "You seem to understand her pretty well. Aren't you guys kinda friendly, or something?"

Shin had had no idea that anyone else had even noticed his relationship with Yankumi, let alone formed an opinion on it. He supposed he should be grateful that no-one had realised that his feelings ran any deeper.

Minami's eyebrows wiggled suggestively. "Oi, Shin, don't tell me that you and she are…?" He left the rest unsaid, lifting his two index fingers and pressing them together to look like a kissing couple.

Shin suppressed a groan. Fantastic. "No, you idiot. And… yeah, I think she'll get over it, eventually. But if those guys do something, and they get into trouble – well, she's not going to be thrilled about it, you know?"

The other two made noises of agreement. Just as Shin was breathing a quiet sigh of relief that he had dodged a potentially very awkward bullet, he heard two familiar voices some distance behind them.

Uchi and Noda.

He stopped to wait for them, and Minami and Kuma came to join him. He noticed that Uchi wasn't talking much at all; he walked with his head down and his shoulders hunched, and he looked utterly miserable. Noda didn't seem much better. Neither of them noticed their observers until they were right up close – too late to split off from the path without it looking deliberate.

"Hi," said Shin mildly. "What's up?"

They scuffed their feet awkwardly. "Nothin'." Noda muttered eventually. "Why?"

"No reason." He gave them a friendly smile. "Want to go to the café?"

"No, we've got –" Uchi began, but Noda kicked him sharply in the ankle and he yelped. "Uh, I mean… we were just going home. Maybe some other time."

"Sure," Shin replied pleasantly. He waved. "See you guys tomorrow."

"Uh-huh." They shuffled away, Uchi casting nervous glances back at Shin.

"Well, that was pointless," remarked Minami.

Shin, staring after the two departing boys, disagreed. "Uchi's our way in," he said. "He definitely wants to tell us, even if Noda and the others don't. I think we'll be able to get more out of him if we try."

"What I want to know is, why aren't they letting us in on it?" Minami muttered, sounding offended. "It's not like we haven't all been in fights together before."

Shin didn't answer. He was still staring after Uchi, wondering what his next move should be.


In the end, he didn't have to make a move at all.

He'd parted ways with Minami and Kuma, gone home and spent a while just sitting on the couch thinking – about Yankumi, about her date, and about 3-D. Finally he'd put the kettle on to boil water for his usual evening meal – ramen – and while he was trying not to dwell on the fact that right now, Yankumi would be sitting down at a fancy restaurant with someone who had made it very clear what he wanted from her.

Would she think of him, even once, this evening?

Or would she be wined, dined and seduced?

He ripped the lid off the ramen pot with more force than necessary. He wished, for the millionth time, that she'd just said no in the first place. All of this stress was going to give him a stomach ulcer or something.

Not to mention that feeling he'd had earlier – the nagging, pestering one that had bothered him all the way home and was still going strong even now. Maybe he was losing his mind…

He was just pouring the water into the plastic packet when his phone rang. He kept the kettle steady and reached into his pocket with his other hand, glancing down at the name on the display. "Hey, Uchi," he answered, trapping the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he pulled a pair of chopsticks out of the drawer. "What's up?"

There was a brief silence at the other end of the line. Then Uchi said, "Shin. I need to tell you something."

"Okay. I'm listening."

"Are you alone?"

"Yeah, I'm at my place. You want to come over?"

"I can't, I…" he hesitated. "I'm meeting the others in ten minutes. Shin – we're going after the Meibi guys. Chikamatsu found out where they hang out, and we're going to settle this tonight."

Shin set the chopsticks down, ramen forgotten. "You're going tonight? Why?"

Meibi High. The niggling feeling – it was something to do with that school, he knew it.

"Shin, they beat up three people from our class. We can't take this lying down – we have to do something. And besides…" A sigh whispered from the earpiece. "Yankumi's occupied tonight. We don't have to worry about her interfering."

"Uchi, do you know anything about those guys other than where they hang out? Like, how many of them there are? Or whether they fight with knives?" He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, it's not like I don't understand why you want to do this – I'm just saying you should wait instead of rushing in tonight."

"It's too late. We already decided." Uchi sounded half-apologetic, half-resigned. "The others – they didn't want me to tell you guys because they thought you'd try to stop us, or tell Yankumi. But I wanted to at least give you the address… in case you want to come help us."

"Uchi –"

"It's in Shinkawa, near the Eitai Bridge. The warehouse by the fish yard. You know where I mean?"

"Yeah, but Uchi –"

"I'm on my way there now. So is everyone else. See you later, Shin." And the line went dead as he hung up.

Shin sighed, frowning down at the phone in his hand.

He had less than ten minutes to decide what to do.

Damn it. If they hadn't had that fight with Yamaguchi, they wouldn't have been so tightly-wound this afternoon, and maybe this wouldn't be happening. He'd never liked the idea that they relied on her to save their asses, but it would be a lot better than going into a situation blind, ready to fight some jealous bastard and who knew how many goons –

Wait. That was it – Meibi High! Why the hell hadn't he remembered before?

One quick call to the operator, followed by endless ringing, and he was connected to a kid he never thought he'd speak to again. "Tennouji Ryu?" he asked, barely pausing for breath. "This is Sawada Shin."

There was a brief silence, and then, "You mean, Sawada from Shirokin?"

"That's the one. Listen, I don't have much time – what can you tell me about a guy in the senior class at Meibi? He used to date a girl called…" he racked his brain for the name of Chikamatsu's girlfriend "Kyouko? Or Kahoko, maybe?"

"Kanako?" Ryu sounded worried. "She was dating Sasaki Osamu – and let me tell you, you do not want to mess with a guy like him."

Crap. "Why, what's he like?"

"A thief, a bully and a thug," Ryu replied succinctly. "When I was still there, I heard a rumour that he'd stabbed some guy for looking at him funny."

It got worse and worse. "So, he carries a knife, then?"

"Hey, I can only tell you what I've heard. I've never really met the guy, so I guess I'm the lucky one. Why do you want to know, anyway?"

"Long story," Shin said curtly. "I'll tell you about it another time." He hung up abruptly; no doubt Ryu was spitting and cursing at the other end, but that didn't matter right now.

He grabbed his jacket, and as he headed out the front door, he thumbed the keypad on his phone, dialling the one number he'd wanted to call all afternoon.

And several miles away, in a classy French restaurant, Yamaguchi Kumiko's phone began to ring.


Author's Note: To come – one fight in a warehouse, one fight in the street. Good times…