KIND OF IMPORTANT I GUESS I DON'T KNOW: I feel obligated to point something out: The character Yamamoto Haruma isn't annoying in general. In fact, if you were to meet him, you would be charmed, swooning, in love, whatever. Only Soo-Jin finds him to be a pest overall. Then you would ask, "Well, wouldn't Soo-Jin be annoyed with someone like Himuro?" Yes, she would, but when she first met him she was unadjusted to his bishie-ness; she dealt with pretty girls, but not pretty boys. Now that she is adjusted, she is already accustomed to Himuro's personality. However, because she met Yamamoto just recently, she isn't comfortable around him.

AND ALSO: Miura was never introduced to the story until chapter 37. And, for the reviewer who speculated that I was inspired by KHR, I actually went to a website to search for Japanese surnames because I couldn't think of any new ones at the top of my head. But I can see where you're coming at, haha.

XOXOXOXOXO

Soo-Jin and Fukui were waiting at an isolated corner with overgrown bushes and that dead grass smell that she just couldn't get used to. It was technically within the school campus, but Soo-Jin speculated that she and Fukui would be in so much trouble if a teacher caught them here. She assumed that this was Yamamoto's hideout of some sorts; it turned out that there were more delinquents involved, gathering at this place. Nothing could settle her nerves.

Well, maybe except for one.

"She's not my girl," Fukui deadpanned.

A particularly tall and lanky boy who was questioning him didn't appear to believe him; neither did the others who had been listening in the conversation. "I don't get it. Then why would Miura drag in her?"

"How should I know? Besides, you know I don't go for first-years, Minami."

"Yeah? How about last year when you were dating that cute chick?"

"That's different. I'm a third-year now."

"I don't know where you're coming at, Fukui," another piped. "The younger they are, the easier the pickings, yeah?"

These delinquents making ridiculous deductions of what her relationship was with Fukui made her head spin. Although she came to reason that her life was not a televised drama series (still missing that handsome heir to fall in love with her), having some pseudo-gang members coerce her and Fukui into doing what they want made it seem like it. And factor in the probable violence? Forget the drama—this was a karate film, wasn't it? They were just waiting for the boss to enter the scene for Fukui to unexpectedly dish out crazy moves and claim his victory.

Soo-Jin already released her grip on Fukui's sweater when the delinquents were pestering Fukui about whether or not he was dating her; no matter how much he refuted, they weren't convinced, which made her belatedly realize something quite important. Even though they were aggressive and uncouth and repulsive (that guy leaning against the wall just did a snot-rocket right in front of her), they were still high school students.

And, much to her bewilderment, middle school students. She recognized the same uniform that Takeru wore that a few of these boys here were wearing. Soo-Jin couldn't tell at first given the disheveled way they wore their clothes (apparently, it was bad boy fashion to dress in droopy pants, chains, and brightly colored T-shirts), but she caught a glimpse of the school insignia stitched onto their jackets. She later noticed that everyone was wearing their school uniforms as well.

Soo-Jin swallowed a sigh, rocking her weight from one foot to the other. They had been waiting for about ten, fifteen, twenty minutes—she didn't know, but it sure did feel like a long, long, long time. When was this powerful overlord going to show up? She didn't get to eat lunch so she was hungry, thinking that whatever Yamamoto had to tell her wouldn't take so long; she was also worried that she was going to miss her afternoon lessons. She was never good at studying, but that didn't mean that she wanted to fail class.

"Well, I have some bad news."

Everyone looked up to find Yamamoto standing on the clearing. If Soo-Jin didn't know that he was an underling to the overlord, she would have found his sheepish smile to be cute. But not anymore. Not even his dimples could redeem him. "Miura-san can't make it."

"What are you on about, Yamamoto?" someone briskly demanded.

"I got a call from him saying that he's preoccupied and to cancel the arrangement."

Yamamoto's boss wasn't going to show up? Well, wasn't this oddly disappointing?

A couple of the delinquents, namely one, weren't too happy by the change of plans. "What the…" And then he proceeded to rant and rave a string of words that Soo-Jin never learned from her vocabulary list. She thought that he was using slang terminology, but then Fukui made a face and covered her ears with his hands.

"Ya gotta be kidding me. We came here to just waste our time?" was what the potty-mouthed boy basically said.

Yamamoto was undeterred. "I'm sure that Miura-san is grateful for your participation."

"What does his gratefulness have to do with anything? I could've spent my afternoon on something useful rather than doing diddlysquat and babysitting Fukui and his girlfriend!"

"Like trying to get the highest score in the arcades?" the person next to him snickered.

After a few number of comebacks and dry quips, the next thing Soo-Jin knew was that there was a brawl going on. If she remembered correctly, one guy said something offhandedly, which unintentionally provoked a heated reaction from another, and it continued on from there. It was rather confusing to bother thinking about it apart from the flurry of flying fists and kicks and slurs of swears, but not as befuddling as being regarded as Fukui's girlfriend. Now that was a frightening image.

She felt a tug on her arm. Fukui placed a finger to his lips and pointed to the opening of where they had entered the hiding. Soo-Jin nodded. Discreetly make their escape; if caught, shove the upperclassman to the wolves and skedaddle. Awful, she knew, but, still, it was his fault for associating with these sorts of people in the first place. He might as well suffer the repercussions and deal with it.

Fortunately for him, it never came to that. Soo-Jin and Fukui slipped away from the scene safely, and class didn't even start yet judging by the presence of students outside. She sighed in relief.

"Well, that was close," Yamamoto said happily.

They jumped and looked at him in shock. "Where'd you come from?" wondered Fukui.

"I followed you guys out when you were making your escape. Quick thinking, sempai. As expected from the former banchou of Seiki Middle."

"Please don't bring up my unsavory history."

"What's banchou?" asked Soo-Jin.

"It's nothing. Don't tell her," Fukui said pointedly, narrowing his eyes at the younger boy.

She frowned. "I go look it up when I get home."

"Great, you do that. Now, as for you." Fukui's narrowed look transformed to an accusatory glare. "I may be rusty, but I can still kick your—" He gave a fleeting sideway glance at Soo-Jin before renewing his sentence. "I can still knock your block off. I don't know what sort of dealings you have with Miura, but don't involve me or Won-san or anyone else, got it?"

Yamamoto raised an eyebrow. "Were you honest when you said that you aren't dating her?"

"Whoa, going off on a tangent that isn't relevant."

"For the millionth time," Soo-Jin remarked petulantly, resisting the urge to stamp her foot, "we not dating!"

"I would hate to ask if you guys were sure because that would be like playing a broken record, so I'll just show you something that I find to be interesting." With that said, Yamamoto fished out something from the pocket of his jacket and held it before them. It was a picture, but not just any picture—it was a clear snapshot of Fukui kissing Soo-Jin during the fireworks at the festival.

Soo-Jin's eyes nearly popped out of her sockets; panic began to rise within her. From that angling, it didn't look like Fukui's lips were aimed on her cheek, but rather…

"H-how," she choked out. "B-but—what?"

Yamamoto blinked at the unfamiliar language that spilled out of her mouth, but shrugged. "I caught a glimpse of you two at a food stall. Curious, I tailed you guys," he informed.

Fukui's reaction? Completely unfazed. "Hey, we were having a romantic nonromantic moment. I can't believe you witnessed that," Fukui complained, a crease forming on his forehead.

Soo-Jin couldn't believe how the third-year could be so—so—so blasé about this! It was them—together—on their date—looking like they were kissing! Did he not realize what Yamamoto could potentially do with that photo?

"You don't appear to be upset. Do you not realize what I could do with this?" Yamamoto voiced her thoughts, waving the key to his extortion. Well, it may would have the Korean to succumb and fall to her knees, but Fukui was as sturdy as a rock.

"Fine, go ahead. Tell everyone," Fukui replied disinterestedly.

Soo-Jin gasped. "What?" she squeaked.

He shot her a dry look. "If you think I'll keel over by lame blackmail like that, then you're more of an airhead than I thought you'd be."

She scowled at the insult—her? an airhead? please, as if—and smacked his arm. "Yah(1), babo! I don't want anyone to think we are boyfriend and girlfriend, okay?"

He scowled back and rubbed his arm. "If you're worried about Murasakibara finding out, we'll just clear the news with him."

"I don't like him anymore," Soo-Jin snapped. A second later, she slapped a hand over her mouth and a dark cloud drifted over her head.

"Oh, you don't, do you?"

Dang it—why did she have to complicate things for herself?

She had her eyes fixated on the tree behind Yamamoto; however, judging from the tone of his voice, she didn't need to look at Fukui to tell that he was smiling smugly at her. "I'd hate to tell you that I told you so, but… I told you so."

"I never said you were wrong," she pointed out curtly.

"True, but you never did admit that I was right."

Before she could open her mouth to retort back, Yamamoto, who she miraculously and momentarily forgot about, said something that spiked her horror. "Won-san…liked Murasakibara? Like, romantically?"

There was a stretched silence that in that duration Soo-Jin didn't (couldn't) even breathe. "Yes," Fukui answered finally without batting an eyelash.

Great, Yamamoto not only had a picture of them, but he now knew that she liked Murasakibara. And Fukui had to confirm the latter. Why did he have to friggin' confirm to Yamamoto that she used to like Murasakibara? Because he was an insensitive prick, that's why.

"Now look at what you did!" she fumed. "He knows now!"

"Hey, you were the one who admitted to not liking Murasakibara anymore. And why do you keep transitioning from Korean to Japanese? Just stick to one language, woman."

She chose to ignore the addendum as she snapped, "I can't help it if you were the one who brought him up!"

"That just might be the first grammatically proper sentence I heard out of you," Fukui said seriously.

"Argh!" Soo-Jin cried in agitation, throwing her arms in the air.

In amidst of the girl's throes of agony (oh, the sheer pain of having to put up with an aggravating person like Fukui), the deep resonant chiming of the school bell was sounded. Lunchtime was over.

"Well, the fun's over." Fukui placed his hands on his hip and frowned. "This wrapped up slower than I estimated it to be. Yamamoto, take Won-san to class. I got vice-captain duties to tend to and, thanks to you, to check to see if those delinquents are still hanging around."

Soo-Jin quickly caught hold of his sleeve. "Are you crazy?" she hissed with wide eyes. "You leave me alone with him?"

"Geez, calm down, would you?" he said, gently extracting her hooked fingers from his sweater. "He's not going to do anything to you here at school campus. I mean, what can he do? Stab you with a pencil?—oh, wait a minute."

"Don't worry, Won-san," Yamamoto cut in. "It's just as what sempai says. I don't hurt girls, anyway. And, if it's of any reassurance, I won't do anything with that picture that I took anymore."

"Anymore?" Fukui repeated. "What'd you do with it the first time?"

"Show it to Miura-san, of course."

"Of course," he sighed. "Is that why he ordered you to drag Won-san into this mess?"

"Of course. Anyway, seeing how it doesn't seem to affect you, it won't be any fun carrying it around."

"We're still going to have that chat about your affiliation with bad people."

"Like yourself?"

"I'm reformed, for your information. I don't go around beating the crap outta other guys or ditch my classes anymore. And I take notes."

"Good on you. I'm still curious about your relationship with Won-san is, by the way—ah, Won-san, don't leave me behind."

"Hurry up then," she said, scowling again. Her face was probably going to stick that way some time soon.

"Hold on, I want to know something," Fukui called after her. "What did you do when you got home after our date?"

"Wash my cheek with soap," she returned snippily, not once looking back.

"Yeah, I kinda figured. Just making sure."

XOXOXOXOXOXO

At first, Soo-Jin couldn't understand why it felt awkward when she and Yamamoto ran into Murasakibara. And then she remembered why. Yamamoto knew.

Murasakibara was frowning, which made Yamamoto grin. This left the Korean rather puzzled.

"Well, fancy meeting you here, Murasakibara-kun," Yamamoto said, smiling his dimply smile. His arm snaked around her shoulders, bringing her closer to him.

"Who are you?" Murasakibara gruffly said.

"You don't recognize me? Don't you remember joining the basketball team together?" he said, feigning hurt.

"I don't care." He drew in closer and placed a hand on Soo-Jin's head. Then, with one jerk of his arm, he ripped her away from Yamamoto. "Go away."

"I thought you wanted to know who I am."

The taller boy sniffed derisively before entering the classroom. Yamamoto nodded to himself and gave So-Jin a secretive smile.

"You learn something new every day."

XOXOXOXOXOXO

(1): A Korean version for "Hey!" or "Oi!".