Her Version
by Annie D
the_80s_chick@lycos.com
PART 2
Miyuki's good mood was not sodden even when during lunch a bunch of rather smelly gangster wannabes had come up to her asking for a "date". In fact, it rather incensed her good mood, and so she cheerfully gave the leader a sharp kick in his unmentionables and bashed the heads of the other two members together before skipping off to see if they sold bubblegum in the cafeteria.
As she disappeared round the corner, four heads popped round the wall to watch her leave in a perfect totem pole formation, all eyes wide and all mouths forming 'o's.
"That's the one that hit you, eh, Takamiya?" a guy with curly blonde hair asked.
"Hai," said the speccy one at the bottom. "And I was so polite to her, too."
"If that's what she does when she's in a good mood, I wonder what she's like when she's in a bad one," said a youngish-looking one that could've been mistaken for the weakling of the group.
The fourth guy, who sported a moustache, rubbed his hand together. "I love a challenge, don't you?"
The four of them agreed to generally stick their noses in Miyuki's business and trotted off to find her, but she was not in the cafeteria by that time as she had decided to optimistically make a round of the school to get better acquainted with the place.
It had been a nice little way to spend lunch hour. Miyuki managed to terrorise a couple who had been making out in the mini alleyway between the gym and the main school building, and then later she scared the wits out of a group of students who had been smoking (causing one of them to swallow his fag – Miyuki would never forget the look on his face) and generally made a ruckus of things, her laughter signalling triumph wherever she went.
It was a productive lunch break, and by the time it was over the word was out on the "tall new girl" and how she should be avoided at all costs. Miyuki, still dazed by how good she was feeling at the moment, noticed none of the whispers as she returned to class. And even if she did know, she probably would've been proud of herself.
The closest she came to finding out was when, during class, Fuji leaned toward her and whispered, "What were you up to during lunch?"
"A bit of this, a bit of that," Miyuki replied, still unable to wipe the grin off her face. "I really like it here, Fuji. It's so much better than my last school. It's really great."
"Really?" Fuji said uncertainly. Miyuki flashed her another blinding grin, causing Fuji to bite back any advice she had been wanting to give. Surely the gossip was exaggerating. Surely. Fuji returned a timid smile of her own. "I'm glad."
The next classes all passed by in a blur, and before Miyuki knew it, her first day at Shohoku High was over.
"Myself and a few friends are going to watch the basketball team's practice," Fuji told her as they were clearing up. "Do you… do you want to come?"
Within two seconds, Miyuki considered and decided. "Basketball's not really my thing. You go ahead. I'll see you tomorrow, ok?"
Setting off for home alone, Miyuki hadn't gotten far when the same bunch of gangster-wannabes from the lunch break incident, this time with backup, had cornered her down in an alleyway between a couple of shophouses.
"We're gonna teach you some manners," said a tall gruff one.
As cheerful as she was, Miyuki could see a bad situation for what it was. Her hands clenched themselves into fists and she raised them carefully.
"You're gonna fight us, little girl?" one of them sneered.
Miyuki started. Fight? She'd never been in a fight her entire life! Sure, she was a bit fit because of volleyball, but she'd never even—
A fist came flying toward her and Miyuki swerved to one side, propelled by some instinct she had never known she had. Her own right hook went flying, and the guy's head snapped back.
Swallowing her own surprise, Miyuki stared at the guy who was then on the ground and groaning, then at her hands. Pride swelled inside her. I am the tensai! Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at the rest of the surprised gang-fellows.
"You're gonna pay for that!" said the big guy.
"Hey!"
All eyes turned toward the entrance of the alleyway, where four figures stood dramatically shadowed by the sunlight behind them. Miyuki squinted. Three she didn't know, but number four was the same guy she'd hit in the morning, after he'd called her "sweetie".
"Six of you against one girl?" said one of them, smirking slightly. "That's hardly fair." Light glinted off the short guy's specs. The blonde one cracked his knuckles.
"Seven," Miyuki corrected. "That guy's out. I hit him! Don't underestimate this girl!" She grinned proudly, hands on hips.
The big guy growled, drool sliding through a crack in his mouth. Miyuki must have missed whatever secret-gangfight-initiating-exchange that occurred, because all at once fists were flying and a full-blown fight was underway.
Miyuki's girlie instincts told her to back off and let the boys do their thing. But something deep within her, something raw and bursting with adrenaline, told her to join, because, well… it looked like fun. She clenched her hands into fists and raised them.
Why not? So she joined the fight.
The won, by virtue of optimism and cheerfulness, which radiated from Miyuki and was reflected off the four guys that had arrived to help her. The big bullies were soon sent off scampering (minus the three that had completely been knocked out) while the victors shook hands.
"Eh, gomen," Miyuki said, scratching her head as she looked at the speccy guy. "About this morning… I didn't mean to be rude or anything."
"Oh, it's okay, I get that response all the time," he laughed.
"You really can fight," said the boyish one, regarding her with friendly eyes.
Miyuki laughed. "Actually I've never been in a fight before today!" She struck a pose. "See, you cannot underestimate the hidden abilities of this tensai!"
Something in the air changed. It was no longer cheerful, but solemn. Miyuki, sensing that she had done something wrong, carefully undid her pose. "Uh…?"
"Oh, it's nothng," said the boyish one, quickly forcing a smile. "You just… reminded us of someone."
"Oh really, who?" Miyuki asked eagerly.
"Nevermind," said the moustached one, quickly waving it away. "What's your name, then?"
"Takemoto Miyuki," she said. "And you are…"
"Takamiya Nozomi." "Ohkosu Yuji." "And I'm Noma Chuichiro."
And the headache started up again, pounding faintly just behind her eyes and taking her completely by surprise. The day had been going so well, too! There hadn't been any sense of wrongness and she hadn't lost her temper for any reason, so why now…?
"Are you okay?" Ohkosu asked.
"Ah, hai," Miyuki said, quickly smiling.
"Yes," said the boyish one. "And I'm—"
Yohei.
"Mito Yohei," he said, bowing slightly. "Please to meet you, Takemoto-san."
Miyuki blinked, jaw clenching unnaturally as she fought back the pounding headache that threatened to slice her head in two. She pressed her hands onto both sides of her head and shut her eyes, trying to squeeze the pain out. Please stop… Not now… Not anymore…
"Takemoto-san?"
And suddenly as it appeared, the pain stopped. Miyuki looked at the four boys, and upon seeing the concern there, she managed a genuine smile. "Migraine. I get it every now and then."
"Oh," said Noma. "Sounds terrible."
"It is," said Miyuki, who meant it. "Hey, I'm hungry, let's go to Danny's!"
"Oh, you know that place?" Takamiya asked. "We hang out there all the time!"
No, I don't know that place… Miyuki realised in silent shock. The name had simply popped out of thin air, and it had somehow made sense to her to want to eat at Danny's with this bunch of misfits. It was surprising, how much she felt she clicked with them, as though she had known them for longer than just a few minutes. She brushed off the thought and quickly said that she had heard about the place from someone and had always wanted to go there.
The sense of belonging was quickly taking over the wrongness she had felt for months, and that was reason enough to ignore the faint unsettlement in her stomach.
*****
Yohei waved a goodbye as Miyuki crossed the street away from the rest of the gang as they parted ways, all stomachs full from a healthy (credited) evening meal and all spirits uplifted from having fun company to hang out with. He slid his hands into his pockets and partially lifted his eyes to the evening sky as he exhaled something resembling bliss.
Today, for the first time in months, the Gundam had felt complete. Yohei knew that it was because of this girl, Miyuki-san, but why it should be her that made them complete he wasn't too sure her understood.
No one could ever replace their fifth member and his own best friend, that much Yohei had known from the beginning. No one would ever the same arrogant, immature and innocent boundless energy. Yohei had found himself believing it for ever so long, hoping that in doing so he was preserving the memory of his best friend the way it should be. Irreplacable.
And yet there she was, someone who could fill in his shoes, even if she and the rest of the Gundam didn't know it yet. Yohei had only spent a few hours with her, yet he knew. She fitted. A bit too well, he reflected nervously. It wasn't only in the conventional way, but also in ways Yohei hadn't thought possible…
As Miyuki waved one last time before turning the corner, a flash of vibrant colour on her hair made Yohei's heart stop.
A trick of the light, Yohei told himself as she disappeared round the corner. Tint of the evening sun. Of course it had to be.
Of course.
*****
Miyuki walked on, humming under her breath. A very good day! Her mother had been right. A change in environment really did wonders.
Suddenly she stopped walking and turned her head around frantically. She wasn't on the street leading home! Miyuki cursed her feet for bringing her to completely different side of the bazaar, to a portion of town that she hadn't even been to before. Curses.
A soft sound, like the meet of rubber on solid cement, took her attention away from the immediate problem. It came in regular intervals, soft and sure, and then suddenly quickened to be replaced with a soft swooshing sound.
Miyuki followed the noises, which lead her to an open-air court framed by high protective wiring, with a familiar battered bike leaning against a bunch of trees just next to it.
She shimmied behind trees for cover, then carefully peered between a few branches to take a peek.
"Oh, it's that stupid boy," she muttered to herself. "So he plays basketball, eh?"
Miyuki watched him. Basketball was vastly different from her own love of volleyball, and she had never paid it much heed because she had figured that it was too grabby for her liking. But… but… as she watched the tall boy glide across the court in graceful synchronisation with the ball he was dribbling, she felt her heart skip under her ribcage. Not for the boy of course, that was ridiculous. For the ball.
She watched the ball soar and slide through the hoop, not pausing to touch the rings. Her fingers clenched and unclenched themselves against her will, and she could feel that they were wishing to touch that rubber sphere, to caress it and guide it, to see whether she'd be able to make the ball look equally beautiful in flight.
Well, of course she could! She was the tensai, after all! Volleyball tensai, really, but a true sportsman would be able to adapt to any sport, and that was exactly what she was. Holding and handling a rubber basketball would by a synch after the type of torture the hard white volleyball had inflicted on her hands.
So she stepped out of her hiding place. Well, she wasn't exactly hiding, because the tensai doesn't hide. She was watching her opponent, studying him. Opponent. That word felt right, too, when it came to describing the tall boy.
"Oi!" she called, entering the court.
The boy paused in the middle of making another long shot, and half-turned.
"You a basketballman, yea?" she asked, hands on hips. "You don't look that good to me."
He made a perfect three-point shot.
Miyuki snorted. "I can do that!" Why on earth she said that, she didn't know. It felt good, though. "I bet you think you're so good, eh? Am I right? Ah, but I don't think you're that good. Look at that, I can do better." She marched toward him.
The boy, still quiet, went to the ball and picked it up. He bounced it a few times, then turned to make another shot.
"Hey, don't ignore the tensai!" Miyuki shouted.
The boy froze. Miyuki stiffened uncertainly.
Slowly, the tall boy turned around to look at her. His eyes – bright blue, Miyuki realised – were glaring. Not just glaring, but glaring. It was like being under a particularly sharp dissecting knife.
"Oh, you scared?" Miyuki taunted, refusing to shimmer under his glare.
The boy's eyes flicked suddenly to Miyuki's hair.
Miyuki frowned. "What's wrong with you? Cannot speak? Mute?" She bounded up to him and knocked him a few times aside his head. "Hello!" she shouted into his ear. When he still didn't respond, Miyuki tried to take the ball from his arms.
He pulled the ball away sharply, causing Miyuki to stumble a bit. That was when she finally noticed his jersey.
"Shohoku?!" she shrieked, pointing. "Ooooh you're on the Shohoku basketball team! My friend Fuji says you're all really good, but if a guy like you is on the team then I don't see how could they can be. Are they all weirdos like you? Hello? Can you hear me?"
The boy was still looking at her. Studying her.
"Whaaat?! I know, I'm very pretty muahahahahahaha!" Miyuki laughed, planting her hands on her hips. "But don't think I'll date you, because I have standards, you know."
The boy finally spoke. "Do'aho."
It was only because her breath had caught in her throat Miyuki wasn't able to shriek aloud when the headache struck. It no longer consisted of pounding, but a sharp continuous POUND that radiated in, on and through her skull. The starting flash of pain rendered her blind for a moment, and Miyuki staggered forward a bit, clenching her fingers on either side of her head. Stop… please stop!
Do'aho.
The word made her angry. It didn't mean much, since she had been called worse (on that very day, in fact), but it just screwed with her nerves like sharp fingernails on a blackboard.
She blinked, forcing herself to focus through all the pain on the source of that nasty word, and she glared at the tall boy.
"You…" she growled.
The boy started toward her, and in the panic of not having total control over herself, Miyuki sent her right fist a-flying, and when she felt the comforting clash of bone and bone, she ran for all it was worth.
*****
Her mother had been concerned, of course, when greeted with the sight of her only daughter covered in scratches and would-be bruises. Miyuki had waved her off with another bright smile, capable of doing so again since the headache had dimmed, and told her parent how wonderful the new school was. The conviction in her voice made her mother back off with the questions, but not with the required maternal attention to the cuts and scratches.
As her mother was treating a scratch above her eyebrow, she asked, "What did you do to your hair?"
"Huh? Nothing."
"Are you sure?"
"YES!"
Miyuki did, later on, find out what her mother had meant about her hair. She had sulked off to the bathroom to see the damage on her face, but instead had been immediately taken with her hair.
It was slightly messy from the fight much earlier on, but still quite the same style. Long locks, pulled back in a simple (and boring) ponytail, a few strands loose to frame her face. But what was wrong was the colour. Her hair had been brown, and had always been brown since the day she was born. She had never dyed it or bleached it, because she liked it brown.
Yet there it was, brown now touched with red.
Slowly, Miyuki reached a hand up to touch the red streaks. Where had they come from? Bleached by the sun? That was stupid, the streaks weren't there that morning.
She sighed. Maybe no one would notice. Red and brown went together quite well anyway, and if she didn't stand immediately under the sun, the red streaks – which were still soft and blended well into the brown – wouldn't be too obvious.
"Nevermind, the tensai looks gorgeous no matter what colour her hair!" Miyuki told her reflection, then went off for dinner.
*****
The next day started pretty much like the one before. Miyuki took her long strides to school, popping bubbles all the way, head tilting this way and that to a tune that kept repeating itself inside her head. She wondered briefly whether she'd see the tall dark-haired basketball boy, then told herself it would be better if she didn't, because she wasn't particularly looking forward to having another head-splitting headache.
Everything went on fine and dandy, until she finally arrived on campus. She had been craning her neck on the lookout for her newmade friends of the gundam, when she suddenly slammed against someone rushing in the opposite direction.
"Watch where you're going!" Miyuki shouted.
The boy she had run into, whose hairdo resembled a muffin, glared it her. "You watch it! Baka…"
"What did you call me?" Miyuki half-screamed, raising her hands automatically into fists. Ah, the rush of the fight, even if she was in school… The boy seemed to think the same way, and flexed his wrists quietly.
"Ryota, stop it!"
Miyuki turned to see a rather angry-looking girl with curly brown hair rushing toward them. The muffin boy's face had gone strangely pink, and he said in a much softer voice, "Aya-chan."
"He started it!" Miyuki protested, pointing at the muffin boy. "Cannot see where he's going, bumping into a girl… So rude!"
"What kind of girl are you?" the muffin boy shouted back. "Not a girl at all, if you ask me…"
"What?!" Miyuki started to fly toward the muffin boy when the gundam appeared out of nowhere and simultaneously held her back by her arms. "Woi!"
"Miyuki-san!" Yohei admonished.
The muffin boy scowled. "Mito-san, you know her?"
"She's a friend," Yohei said, carefully waving his arms in a peaceful gesture. "No problem."
"He started it!" Miyuki screeched.
"I did not, you bumped into me!"
"What's going on here?" Another innocent new voice entered the fray, this one a girl's.
Miyuki slowly turned her head, and saw a really pretty girl with shoulder-length brown hair. Her bright brown eyes were looking from person to person with nothing but innocent curiosity in her face. Something in Miyuki's heart flipped.
"Gomen," Miyuki said, looking as bewildered as she felt. She had no idea why she suddenly felt all embarrassed or why her blood had suddenly decided to rush to her face. "Uh, uh… I think I'll be going to class now." She ran off, leaving a smoke trail in her wake.
Everyone watched her leave with general sweatdrops.
"What was that?" Miyagi asked.
"I have no idea," said Yohei, although the expression on his face suggested that he was having at least a few ideas. He slowly looked from Miyuki's disappearing form to the pretty brown-haired girl. "Haruko-san, do you know her?"
"No," said Haruko, shaking her head. "Never saw her before."
"That's the Miyuki I was telling you about," Fuji said, appearing behind Haruko. "The new girl in my class, remember?"
"Oh," said Haruko. "She seems familiar, doesn't she?"
Very. Yohei drew his eyebrows together, wondering whether he dared confront the strange questions that had been circulating his head. Not possible… He looked at the others. They wouldn't understand, and would probably tell him that he was still missing his best friend and that he was seeing things that weren't there. But what if I'm seeing things that are meant to be seen?
Yohei turned to leave when he spotted a familiar tall dark-haired boy casually leaning against a nearby wall. He had been watching the proceedings, and when the group began to disperse, he too turned to leave. Ah, so even the Ice King had noticed, eh?
Not one to lose a possible accomplice, Yohei ran after him. "Oi, Rukawa-san!"
*****
Miyuki was grateful that the expected headache didn't come. But she was feeling very confused all throughout class, which was very bad because it meant that she could barely concentrate (not that she ever really concentrated anyway, but at least she was usually able to fake it). Miyuki was pretty sure she'd never met the brown-haired girl before, but still…
Whispering carefully when the teacher had his back turned, Fuji managed to tell her that her name was Akagi Haruko.
Akagi. Haruko. Both names meant something. Miyuki cursed mentally at her own inability to point out what that something was, and idly twirled a pencil in her longer fingers.
"She's the assistant manager of the school's basketball team," Fuji added in another soft whisper.
Miyuki nodded. Basketball again. What was it with basketball? She had never liked the game. True, she had never played it either, but she was already a volleyball tensai, so that other game wasn't worth her time. So the tall bike boy was a basketball player, Haruko was the assistant team manger… Next thing she knew that muffin boy and the curly-haired girl were also involved, and that would be peachy, wouldn't it?
The image of Haruko appeared in her head, surrounded by mysterious sparkly pink stars.
The pencil went flying and hit the teacher's head.
The teacher, whose name Miyuki still couldn't be bothered to remember, turned slowly, a vein pulsating on his temple. "Who did that?!"
Miyuki faked the best innocent look she could, bambi eyes and all.
The teacher slowly turned back round to face the blackboard to continue writing, but he was still shaking angrily. Miyuki clasped her hands together, not trusting herself to handle stationery at the moment. Maybe she could ask Yohei about it.
*****
During lunch time when Miyuki finally did meet up with the rest of the gundam, she realised that she also had the problem of not knowing what question she should be asking. She scratched her head a bit.
"What, Miyuki-san?" Yohei asked, leaning toward her a bit. "You want to ask something?"
"Uh, hai." Miyuki thought about it again.
"It's about Haruko-san?" Yohei pressed.
"H-hai."
"She's the assistant manager of the basketball team," said Yohei.
"…"
"She's very pretty, yar?"
"…"
"Want to go see the basketball practice after class?"
"Err… Maybe… Maybe another time?"
Yohei grinned. "If you say so."