Title: Outsider
Author: Kuroi Tenshi [kuroi_22@hotmail.com]
Pairings: RuHana
Warnings: Shounen Ai, cursing and some stuff but they're relatively harmless... ^_^
OOC as well, but you'll see why
Notes: This is actually important and not just minor rambling. If you've seen the episode with the "camp-shot-training" where Hanamichi learns to do jump shots [oops! You have seen it, right? ^^;; Sorry for the spoilers], you'll have to totally erase that from your memory as you read this little ficcie. Hanamichi's learning it himself, meaning he's his own sensei. That's all. Thanks. Back to your regularly scheduled fanfiction. ^_^
Oh, and I made up the names of Haruko's friends here. I don't think I caught it anywhere. So I'm giving them their names, hope that's okei. ^_^
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Part 1
The ball rolled toward him, stopping at the last second before it hit the sole of his black shoes. The boys who were playing at the court waved toward him and he kicked the ball to their direction, turning sharply away as he shoved his hands deeper in his pockets.
He had been watching those boys play basketball for some time now and he didn't want to waste any more of his time than he already had. Basketball was nothing to him anymore; it was nothing. Just a little game of ball. It held no importance to him.
The sun hid behind the clouds for a while and Sakuragi looked up, taking the opportunity to look at the beautiful blue sky before the sun blinded him again. It had been three weeks since he left the practice. After he stepped out of the court that afternoon, he never stepped into it again. He hadn't bothered showing up to the practices; he hadn't bothered talking to any of the guys from the team. Some of them had approached him, asked him what was wrong.
But he brushed them off, shrugging and lying to them that he was through with the sport. "Basketball is kid's play," he said. "I don't want to chase impossible dreams forever. I don't want to be trapped in my fantasies about having a life in that silly ball game."
Some had been surprised, bewildered and some had been angry. "Kid's play?" "Silly ball game?" "Didn't you want to impress Haruko?" "Who the hell do you think you are?"
They even had Haruko come after him and ask him what's wrong. As if that would've persuaded him to come back. He was a fool then, to have joined the team and be something he wasn't for a girl. He still wanted to be friends with her but that was that, just a friend.
Aota had come to him and offered a place in the Judo club. But as always, he refused. He would feel more of an outsider in that club than in the Basketball team. That's why he opted to refuse all the offers that came his way. Finally, everybody grew tired of coming to him and asking him to come back. They left him alone one by one. Even the gundan understood his need of solitude that they backed off as well, reminding him that if he needed them, he knew where to find them.
From a fearless gang member to a mainstay of a powerful basketball team, he became a Lone Wolf who traveled alone, ignoring all offers of companionship and liaison. He had become the outsider indeed.
He felt out of place in every group he came upon to. Always feeling like the alien, an unwanted character that can't seem to find his place no matter how hard he tried, no matter what he did. So he just accepted the fact.
Walking quietly, he kept his head low, forcing the thoughts out of his head. Thoughts of doubt that still lingered at the back of his mind. What if I'd been wrong? What if it was only me who thought I was an outsider?
Do'aho. The face of Rukawa Kaede flashed in his mind. Well, that's certainly one guy who never accepted me into the team. I was just… not talented enough. I was a beginner. An outsider.
Shaking his head in disgust for allowing himself to let his line of thinking lead back to being the team's outsider, he forced himself to think about the upcoming dinner where he was required to behave properly in front of his "family."
As he rounded the corner, he heard a muffled scream from the alley on his left and ran toward it, preparing for a fight. He was no longer a member of the team. He could afford to get into fistfights again. Not that he was the kind who looked for trouble. It was that trouble had a nick for finding him.
"Let the girl go," he said, glaring at the four guys who looked like they were in dire need of a bath. Their grim-streaked faces contorted with annoyance as they sized him up.
"Go away, kid, this isn't you business, you might end up getting hurt," one of them said, revealing a missing tooth as he spoke. The girl twisted away from his grasp but his grip on her wrists was strong. "Keep still you pretty little thing or I'll be forced to hurt you."
The girl made a face. "You're disgusting!" she spat angrily, jerking her hands away.
"Let her go," Hanamichi said, glaring at the four thugs. "That's the last warning for you. Let the girl go and I'll pretend that I didn't see you harassing her."
"I can handle this, don't worry," the girl said, glaring at the guy holding her.
"You should've pretended you heard nothing in the first place. Now you'll get it for sure!" one of them said, charging toward the young redhead, his fist raised.
"You picked the wrong girl to mess with," the girl hissed as she delivered a swift, well-deserved kick on the groin on her aggressor's direction. Then jerking away, she elbowed him as he doubled over with pain.
Giving him one last kick that rendered him dizzy and crumpled on the ground, she turned to the other one holding a knife, pointing it at her. She noticed the guy who intervened was busy knocking down the other two. "You're turn, buddy," she smiled sweetly before somersaulting and landing on top of the guy's back, the knife lying safely out of his reach on the dirty concrete floor.
She turned to the redhead and smiled as she saw the other two were already lying facedown on the ground. She dusted her skirt and straightened up. "Thanks. But I could've handled it," she said, tilting her head towards the unconscious men.
Hanamichi shrugged. "I'm sure you could've," he said, noticing the crumpled form of the guy who was holding her captive only minutes ago. Then he noticed her hair, recognizing the long sun-kissed mane. "I know you…"
"So do I," she smiled. "But I think you only know me as 'that foreign girl who barged in at practice,' am I right?" Hanamichi only nodded in response. "Diana Brown," she extended her hand. "Sakuragi Hanamichi, basketball Tensai, right?"
"Sakuragi Hanamichi, no basketball Tensai," he smiled wryly, taking her hands and giving it a brief yet firm shake. "I won't ask if you're a foreigner, it's obvious."
She chuckled. "Yeah, grew up in America. Vincent thought dumping all the way here would stop my gangster days and teach me a lesson or two about being the proper lady."
Hanamichi sensed that she was a bit bitter about having been sent to Japan. From her tone of voice, her relationship with the Vincent-guy she mentioned didn't seem sweet and harmonious. "I'm sorry to hear that."
She laughed. "So am I. Don't worry, it's no big deal. Well, you helped me—even though I didn't really need it—I suppose ice cream would be okay enough a treat?"
"You don't really need to do that," he shook his head, shoving his hands in his pockets again.
"Where are you going?" she asked, her cheerful voice and friendly aura not matching the first impression you'd have of her. She was tall and striking, her beauty wasn't that of an ordinary girl, and it wasn't due to the fact that she was a foreigner. Her features, pretty and charming enough had some sort of edge to it. One look at her and you'd know she wasn't one to back down from any fight. And her little run-in with the guys back at the alley proved her skills in protecting herself.
"Are you done studying me? Or do you have to psychoanalyze everything first before you accept my ice cream offer?"
Her voice snapped him out of his trance-like state and he smiled sheepishly. "Ice cream sounds good," he said. "There's an ice cream parlor not too far from here. We can walk the remaining three blocks to go there."
"Then let's start walking," she said, taking hold of his arm and hooking her arm with hers.
~*~*~*~
"Look, she's with them again," Eimi whispered, barely catching herself from pointing towards the pretty first year laughing with the Sakuragi gundan as they passed by them on their way toward their classroom.
Haruko's eyes gaze at Hanamichi's back and she sighed. "It's almost been three weeks since he left the team. Sakuragi…"
Fuuko shook her head. "Don't worry about him. He's not fit to be in the team anyway. Didn't he just quit for no reason? If he's a quitter like that, the team's better off without him."
"Why does it seem to me as if you guys never really liked him?" Haruko asked, turning to her two best friends who just shrugged. "He's really nice, you know. I wish you'd give him a chance."
"As far as I'm concerned, he's a quitter, he's rude and obnoxious. And most of all, he doesn't deserve you worrying over him," Fuuko shook her head.
Then paused, she saw the foreign girl standing at the hallway. She assumed the others already went in their rooms while she stood there alone, hands on her hips. Diana, she heard her name from the grapevine, glared at her before turning around to walk toward section seven.
Fuuko swallowed hard. "I think Sakuragi and that foreign girl are perfect for each other. They both have the temper and they both seem like the type to bash anyone when they feel like it."
Haruko glanced at her, slightly frowning. "But Sakuragi's…"
Eimi grinned slowly. "Oh, don't tell me. You have a crush on him!"
Haruko blushed. "No! That's not it. I'm just concerned because we need him for the IH! That's all!" She tried to cover her face, hot and blushing deep crimson. Did she really have a crush on the redhead? "I don't have a crush on him!" she insisted. Her friends only laughed.
Few hours after lunch break when her friends continued to tease her about Sakuragi, Haruko was watching the team practice with her friends. She glanced at her right, expecting to see Sakuragi's friends but her eyes lowered when she didn't find them. She forgot.
He was no longer part of the team.
There was no reason for Sakuragi's friends to hang around practice anymore. They didn't have Sakuragi to laugh at, tease and cheer on. Her gaze fell on the team at the court. Kogure had taken Sakuragi's place. The team practiced as they had before Sakuragi joined them. It was like the first year had never been there.
Why did you leave, Sakuragi? Haruko asked in her mind, desperately wanting to hear the answer. It just didn't feel right anymore. It was like wherever she looked, she expected to see him. And he wouldn't be anywhere.
She heard from the people that he and his friends, with the addition of the new American girl, had gone back to their old activity. They were cutting classes and messing around again. And she heard from a classmate of Sakuragi's that they were getting into fights as well.
"Are you really gone, Sakuragi-kun?" she asked quietly as she stared at the team practicing shooting. The gym was no longer filled with the redhead's boisterous laughter or proclamations of his Tensai-ness. The practice no longer seemed as fun and exciting as before when he was still there. Somehow, his absence created a huge void that no one can seem to fill.
~*~*~*~
Hanamichi opened the door of the tiny apartment he lived in. He deposited his bag on the floor and kicked off his shoes then slipped on the slippers. He gingerly touched the bruise on his left eye. They had gotten into a fight that afternoon with another group of second year from another school. They thought it was funny that they had a girl with them in their group.
Diana proved that even if she was a girl, she kicked ass better than any man. She single-handedly severed three of the eight guys. As he stood watching her deliver swift kicks, he had his guard down and the bastard that he was fighting took that opportunity to try and make his fist part of Hanamichi's head. He retaliated by returning the punches and kicks.
But now he had to take care of the bruise. His mother hated it when he showed up for dinner with Band-Aids. "It doesn't reflect well on your behavior," he quoted her from the last time they had dinner as a whole family a month ago.
"You're home early?" he asked aloud in a high-pitched, shrilly voice, doing a damn good imitation of his mother's voice. "You're bruised! Let me see that."
Snorting in disgust, Hanamichi dropped the act. That was how his mother used to be before she remarried five years ago. After her marriage with a well-off businessman, she moved in with him. She insisted he move with her but he declined. He didn't want to leave the apartment he grew up in for a house full of people he didn't know and care about. He insisted he was going to be all right living alone in their old apartment.
She finally relented and told him to visit them often. But after his baby half-sister was born, she seemed to have forgotten she had another child. She called every now and then to remind him of the "family dinners" at the mansion where he was to dine with the whole "family" once a month. And she sent him lots of money for his allowance. But since she remarried, Hanamichi never felt more orphaned.
He couldn't help but feel as if the woman that was his mother turned into someone else. Her long black hair which she always kept down because his father loved it's silky beauty was now always in a tight bun. And she wasn't as warm and loving anymore when they got together. She always chastised him for acting more and more like a gangster and she never seemed to have approved of his playing basketball. But she said it was okay with her. It kept him off the streets and fights.
Shaking his head, he headed for the answering machine and pushed the button as he pulled his shirt off. There were five messages for him. They were all from his mother, demanding where the hell he was.
"Hanamichi, this is your mother. Where are you, honey? Don't forget the dinn—"
Delete.
"It's already five, I suppose your practice is over since I asked your coach to let you out early this afternoon. Where are you?"
Delete.
"Sakuragi Hanamichi! I know you're there, pick up the phone or go—"
Delete.
"Where are you? Don't be late for dinner, you've been late the past month and I don't want you to be late again, you hear me? Pick up the—"
Delete.
"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, BOY? I KNOW YOU'RE THERE, PICK UP THIS GODDAMN PHONE OR ELSE I'LL—"
Delete.
He was surprised it took his mother five tries before she lost it. Shrugging, he went to his bedroom and started to get ready for the dinner. As much as he hated going to the semi-formal affair that was the monthly family dinner, he had someone he was looking forward to in seeing.
Hanamichi, dressed in a crisp white long sleeved shirt and tailored slacks, rang the doorbell. After a while, a maid in a black uniform opened the door and smiled at him, bowing slightly as he entered. He didn't need anyone to tell him where they were. He knew the drill by now.
He made his way toward the sitting room where the family stayed before they were called for dinner. He was sure Yuuji was waiting for him inside, waiting to show him just how much he improved his mother's life by marrying her.
He knew the man loved his mother. But the older man never passed a chance to subtly tell him how lucky they were that he and his mother got married. Especially when it came to his education. He was the one supporting him.
When he entered the room, he saw that they wouldn't be dinning alone. Yuuji had visitors; probably business associates, Hanamichi shrugged. He smiled at them as his mother introduced him. Then made his way toward his mother's left side, kneeling in front of the girl he had been looking forward in seeing.
"Hello, Aisha," he said, taking the toddler's hands into his own and kissing her chubby cheeks lightly. Even if she wasn't his full sister, he still loved the little girl that was the fruit of his stepfather and mother's love. She had the same shade of brown eyes as he and had inherited her father's straight nose. But she had inherited almost everything else from her mother, making him resemble Hanamichi more.
His mother kissed his cheek as he seated himself next to her, praying that Yuuji or his visitors wouldn't pay attention to him. His prayers were heard. But somehow, it didn't make him feel the way he usually does, relieved. He felt hurt that they were treating him like he was not there.
Minako was busy playing with Aisha that she didn't pay much to attention to him. Yuuji and his friends were too engrossed with whatever business they were discussing to give him so much as a glance. He saw the clock and wished dinner would be served soon. That way, he could go home afterwards.
What is it with me lately, Hanamichi wondered, mentally kicking himself. He was feeling low all of a sudden and for no reason. He should've been used to the treatment by now. He was just a visitor in the house during these dinners. It was like out of formality.
He knew his mother kind of felt embarrassed showing her son from her first husband to her elite friends when they knew he had a history of getting into fights and trouble. And Yuuji didn't care that much about him. He would give him money but that's all. He wouldn't try to be the young man's father. He already had his little angel Aisha that he didn't need someone else's son to care for.
Finally, his prayers being answered, a servant came in and announced them that dinner was ready. Standing up from their seats at the expensive couches, Yuuji and the three with him stared to walk toward the dinning room. Minako nodded to her son to follow them as she took Aisha in her arms. They did all this in silence, except for the men who were still discussing business transactions.
Dinner ensued uneventful for Hanamichi. The men still occupied with their business talk ignored the mother and her children. The servants served them their food in silence while Minako tried to fill in the silence between them with her plans for shopping for Aisha's clothes since the men weren't trying to include them in their conversation.
"I think I'll take little Aisha to Disneyland in a week or so. I bet she'll enjoy it there. I better shop for her clothes then, don't you think, Hanamichi?" she asked, looking up from her food and smiling at her son.
He nodded, his eyes trained on the young maid feeding his sister to his left. The girl was using her expensive silver spoon as a slingshot; food becoming airborne as she laughed and clapped her hands happily. He smiled at her direction. Despite the cold pretense of care that the whole mansion emitted, he still found warmth in it through his half-sister.
Aisha looked at him and laughed, launching a mangled lump of dark green goo in his direction. Thankfully, it landed half a foot short of its destination, staining the posh lace-trimmed table cloth he knew must've cost more than his mother's old job's weekly wage. He smiled at her and gave her a wink as he heard his mother's sharp intake of breath.
~*~*~*~
"I don't want to see any scars or bruises on you next time, alright?" Minako said, keeping her tone stern as she eyed the Band-Aid on her son's face. She reached for his hands and pushed a wad of money on his palms. "I know it's not that much but take it. I shudder at the notion you're still stuffing yourself with that no-cook, instant cup noodles you love so much. Didn't I tell you there are too much additives in those?" She shook her head disapprovingly. "At least let me send Mena to cook your meals."
They were standing at the door of their mansion and Minako was giving her son her last minute "do's and don'ts" for the hundredth time as she always does before he leaves after the dinner. Aisha was standing by her side, waving at him happily and laughing every now and then for no apparent reason.
Hanamichi shook his head, pocketing the money his money gave him. He kissed her on the cheek and smiled. "Don't bother. Besides, I like those cup noodles. I'd rather have them than those steaks you cook only halfway."
"It's better that way, honey," Minako said wryly. "Take care of yourself, alright?"
Hanamichi nodded, feeling his cheeks burn. Even though he wouldn't admit it aloud, he missed his mother hovering around his back like a mother hen; always minding his business. At least it made him feel assured that she cared and was concerned for him. "I've survived the last five years, don't worry. Tell me when you'll go to Disneyland. Maybe I'll even go with you."
She nodded. "That's a good idea. Oh, by the way, ask around your school for someone who wants to baby-sit Aisha, okay? Her last sitter quit yesterday after Aisha accidentally burned half of her skirt," Minako shook her head in exasperation. "Youngsters nowadays. Can you believe what that girl said? She told me my little angel was naughty and had a devious streak in her even in her young age. Can you just believe that?" She shook her head again.
Hanamichi smiled. That was the third sitter this month. "Don't worry, I'll ask around. And if I can't find anyone, I'll take care of her while you do some shopping," he said, patting Aisha's head lovingly. He was rewarded by a smiled. "Well, I better be off. I still need to get up early tomorrow."
"Won't you let me send you home through the family car?"
"No need for that."
She sighed. "If you says so. Alright, angel, say bye-bye to Hana-chan."
Aisha lifted her arms and Hanamichi took her in his arms then raised her above his head, turning around as she squealed in delight. After a while, he put her down and kissed her on both cheeks. "Now be a good girl and don't try burning skirts again, okay?"
"Ayi-chan will be good," the toddler promised, eyes widening as she displayed the very picture of earnest innocence with her cinnamon eyes. Then smiled. "Hana-chan will go to Disneyland?"
"Maybe," he said, tugging playfully on her silky black hair. "Okay, I'll go now. See you next time?"
"Next time!" the girl cooed, clapping her hands happily. Then tugged on her mother's skirt. "Hana-chan stay longer?"
"He needs to go to school early tomorrow," Minako tried to explain to her little girl. "Don't worry, he'll be back."
"School…" Aisha nodded. "Ayi-chan go to school too!"
Minako nodded. "Yes, angel, you'll go to school soon too. She turned to her son and smiled. "Alright then, be careful on your way. It's not that far but I know how tiring walking toward the station is. Be careful," she repeated. "And no fights."
Hanamichi sighed, shaking his head. When would his mother understand that trouble loved finding him? "Okay. I'll be going now. Thanks for the dinner. Goodnight," he said, stepping out into the porch. Halfway across the driveway, he turned and waved at them before they closed the door and he continued on his way home.
The rest of the way home had been humdrum. It was when he was a block away from his apartment that strife showed its ugly face. He passed by a basketball court while he walked toward his apartment, not minding the semi-darkness he was walking in, as the only light source was the streetlight with its dim light. The moon's light provided little assistance as the trees that lines up the neighborhood shaded every inch of the street.
He paused by the court, a hand gripping tightly the metal railing while he shoved his other hand deeper in his slack's pocket. He missed the practice they had every afternoon. He missed having the feel of the hard rubber ball in his palms as he passed it to his teammates. Most of all, he missed the rewarding euphoria brought about by the sound and feel of the ball slamming against the basket as he dunked. Leaving the team left him feeling somewhat empty as he longed for the times he played basketball.
But he couldn't get over the impression that he was still the outsider. That he was merely a visitor who had been appreciated but had worn out his welcome. That's why he couldn't bring himself to go back to the team. It had always been his rule not to impose himself on others. Sure, he fought. He was rowdy and he demanded a lot of things. But one thing his father taught him that he never forgot was never to force yourself onto others. And if the team didn't want him, he'd go.
Shaking his head sadly, he wondered briefly if Yohei was still up. He needed to talk to someone who understood him well enough. As he was about to leave, he saw that whoever played on the court before had forgotten their ball as it lay at the middle of the dimly lit court.
Shrugging to himself, he walked toward the entrance and took the ball in his hands, marveling at how it felt perfectly in his hands. Dribbling the ball, he wondered if his skills had gone rusty. He hadn't played in weeks and his exercise had gone back to fighting. Performing the lay-up shot Haruko taught him months ago; he smiled in satisfaction as it landed perfect at its aim, at the middle of the hoop.
The team may not let him play with them but that didn't exactly mean he couldn't play basketball altogether. He undid the top few buttons of his shirt and started dribbling the ball again, loving the sounds of its dull thud against the cemented floor. He continued to play for a few minutes longer, oblivious to the scrutiny he was being subjected to.
Rukawa was surprised to hear someone playing at the court he left only minutes ago. He took a quick break from practicing to check on his bike and make sure that it wasn't heaping with fan mail as it had been three nights ago. And when he returned, someone was playing on the court. Probably even using my ball, he thought darkly as he increased his pace to see who it was.
If he was surprised to hear someone playing, he was stunned to see who it was.
Sakuragi Hanamichi stood under the ring, dribbling the ball expertly. The yellow light from the court's corner did wonders to Hanamichi's skin, as he seemed to glow as he played. Rukawa's breath hitched when the redhead stopped and looked at him, his chocolate brown eyes staring right back at him.
He stopped with his dribbling and the ball hit the ground with one last thud before it rolled away from him. Rukawa's pounding heart paused from its rapid beating and did a triple somersault as Hanamichi's eyes softened for a second. Then frowned. "Kitsune?"
The fox-eyed boy blinked as his heart's beating returned to normalcy. "Do'aho," he muttered, walking toward the court and picked up the ball. "Playing basketball alone?"
He stiffened. "No, I just saw the ball and thought I'd see if my skills were still there as I've not played for a while. I was right, I'm still the genius!" he said proudly, followed by his annoying laugh. Then he gestured at the ball. "That must be yours."
Rukawa nodded. "I practice here at night." He didn't know why he said that. What could have made him lose his sanity that he told this baka that he practiced here at night? What purpose would it serve him? Or the do'aho in front of him?
Sakuragi shrugged. "You need the practice anyway," he said. Not losing even a bit of his conceitedness after all this time. "Good luck with your ball-playing club," he said, starting to walk away.
Rukawa didn't understand it but he didn't want to him to leave just yet. "Why?"
The other boy paused, not sure if he heard anything or it was his imagination. Rukawa's question was spoken so softly it was almost inaudible. "Huh?"
"Why?"
"What do you mean why?"
Rukawa's blue eyes were trained on the ground as he felt those beautiful brown eyes on him. "Why did you leave?" He looked up in time to see the visible stiffening from the boy in front of him.
"That's none of your business," Hanamichi replied. "I realized I had too much talent to waste it on something as meaningless as basketball. I don't like wasting my time playing a stupid sport."
"You used to like it."
"Those who like basketball are idiots who don't have anything as they cling to something as playing ball. They don't have anything better to do."
Rukawa was hurt by what Hanamichi said; but didn't show it. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing him affected. "You live around here?" Hanamichi nodded.
"I didn't know what." Liar! Rukawa shouted in his head. He knew Hanamichi lived a block away from the court. That's why he chose that particular court to practice at. He also knew Hanamichi lived alone. And he knew the exact address he lived in. Yes, he was stating to turn into a stalker. It was scary.
"I better go, assignments," Hanamichi said. He gave Rukawa a wave of his hand that was meant as a goodbye that seemed too dismissive to the raven-haired boy but said nothing.
After he left, Rukawa held the ball close to him since Hanamichi had touched it moments ago. Then sighing at how silly he was being, straightened up and walked toward his bike. "Do'aho," he muttered; not sure himself of he meant Sakuragi or himself.
Tbc