Okay. I do know what I'm doing here. I just don't really feel like admitting it.
This is strange. I've never felt compelled to do anything like this before, let alone acted on an inclination such as this. I'm not entirely comfortable, standing outside his office while every single person that passes by shoots me the Curious Look that basically says, "What in the world is Rukawa Kaede doing? Did he hit his head or something?"
Maybe I should just leave. I'm guessing that I'd land myself in an awkward situation, and nobody is stupid enough to not avoid it when they have the chance to.
Too late. The door opens just as I'm about to lift my right foot, and out steps Anzai-sensei.
There goes my chance.
He sees me standing in front of him and does a slight double-take. But then, he smiles.
"Ohaiyo, Rukawa-kun," he says.
"Ohaiyo," I reply. And clam my mouth shut.
"What brings you here this morning?"
Okay, Kaede sweetheart, that's the cue for you to say the things you've came to say and get the hell out of here. So do it already, for god's sake!
Anzai-sensei's looking at me expectantly. Perhaps wishing that he could shove his hand down my throat and pull out the words so that he wouldn't be late for class. Or maybe thinking about what a doofus I am and preparing to laugh at me later, when -- if -- I tell him what I came here to tell him.
"Is everything all right, Rukawa-kun?"
I realise that I'm still standing there, all hundred and eighty-seven centimetres of me, looking like the biggest fool ever.
I clear my throat and refrain from making eye contact. I shove my hands into my pockets.
"Arigatou..." I say softly, "...Anzai-sensei."
He smiles again, and I can swear right here and now that he's Buddha personified. Everything about him simply radiates kindness; every gesture, every word, every smile.
The team is so lucky to have him as our coach.
He pats my shoulder. "You are welcome. Now go for your classes. And do your best."
How incredibly stupid of me to even entertain the notion that he would laugh at me. Anzai-sensei would never do that. He could never be mean to anyone, not anymore. It's simply not in his nature.
I nod. I want to say more -- how grateful I am towards him for what he's done for me, how much I appreciate his comments about my basketball skills, what a cool person he is -- but no words would come.
But perhaps, just perhaps, no more is needed.
*****
What was the deal again? Keep up with my 95% and refrain from being rude to teachers, right?
Yosh. I get to sleep.
I fold my arms across the table and place my forehead on my arms. It feels so good to be sleeping in class again. I feel like I've finally found a long-lost friend or something. Everything is in order now.
"Rukawa Kaede! What do you think
you're doing?"
I groan inwardly. You have got to be kidding me. I can't sleep in class too? What the hell do they want from me? My blood? My sanity? My very life?
Agonisingly, I lift my head from the warm comfort of my makeshift pillow (my arms) and look sleepily at the teacher. The English teacher. Who is looking like he is about to explode.
"Don't let me catch you sleeping again! Now write your essay!"
Kuso. I have an essay to write? Why didn't anyone tell me?
I read the questions on the board:
1. Abortion -- right or wrong?
2. Write a story entitled 'Flee'.
3. Your most unwanted memory.
4. What is the best thing about
Shohoku High?
5. You have won a special prize
in a competition that you have worked hard in. Describe your thoughts and
feelings as you collect your award from the guest-of-honour. Remember to
state in your essay the nature of the competition.
Kami-sama, thank you for number five.
Wait. I should be thanking the teachers as they were the ones who set the questions.
But thanking those morons? No bleeding way.
I pick up my pen and start to write.
**
Rukawa Kaede's essay, v1.
Question number: 5.
I have won a prize for being the best rookie player at the Inter-High games. I cannot believe it. I can't wait to show this off to stupid Sendoh and tell him that I'm better than him. As I make my way to the stage I feel absolutely delighted. I am so happy that I can actually relate to that stupid Hampster Dance song, because I really feel like dancing like a hamster right now.
Dancing like a hamster? Dancing like a hamster?! Nande kuso? Did I really write that? What's wrong with you, Hand?
I read the essay over. And I decide it's utter crap. Surely I can do better than that!
Rukawa Kaede's essay, v2.
Question number: 5.
When they announced the recipient of the 'Best Rookie of the Year' award I could hardly believe my ears. I won it! They picked me as Best Rookie over so many other competitors from all corners of Japan!
"Will Rukawa Kaede please approach the stage to collect your prize?"
My teammates were congratulating me but I could hardly hear them. All I could think of was, I WON! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!
Too many exclamation marks. And if something like this really happened to me, I would definitely have no trouble believing it.
This essay is nauseating.
Rukawa Kaede's essay, v3.
As I walked up the steps to the stage my heart was crying with joy. This was the best moment of my life. I knew those months working alongside with my crazy teammates were worth it.
Because it is me. Most Valuable Player.
As I walked across the stage I
This is a really stupid topic.
I crumple my third essay attempt in frustration, causing a loud crackling to rip through the silence of the classroom. I glance around me. Everyone is scribbling away diligently, their heads bent low, as if mocking me for being uninspired.
I check the time. Bloody hell, I've exactly fifty-six minutes left. I better do something quick, something good. I need to maintain a good average, remember?
I scan through the questions again. My eyes rest on number two. "Write a story entitled 'Flee'."
And just like that, inspiration struck like a bolt of lightning. I don't even hesitate. I pick up my pen and begin scribbling.
It was a painful slap that stung his skin like the pricks of five thousand million pins, but he did not wince. He refused to succumb and he would die before admitting that he hurt, for it would mean revealing his weakness. He'd sworn to himself that he would never do that, no matter what. This situation definitely qualified as 'no matter what'.
"You take back what you said right now!"
His father was furious, his face a dark shade of crimson red. He noted that his father's fist was trembling.
But he didn't care.
"Never."
It was just one word. One common word, uttered by so many mouths around the world, in so many different contexts.
And all it took was that one work, lined with spite and defiance. for the father to bring his fist down to his son's jaw in a violent strike.
He tasted something coppery in his mouth, which he identified as blood. There was so much blood. He could feel it spreading over his chin, dripping onto his shirt, trickling from his wound.
He didn't know what he was doing, exactly. But instead of retaliating, he turned and fled the house without a second backward glance.
**
He hated himself for running away. He hated himself for breaking his own pact. But as tears stream down his face in tiny rivers, he wished it was blood he was crying.
He had yelled at his father, telling him that he wasn't fit to be a father. He wasn't sure now why he said that. He wasn't really sure of anything anymore. Details of that day were growing fuzzier and fuzzier; images melted into each other, until he could no longer tell them apart. And he was tired, so very tired, that all he wanted was a good night's sleep, secure in his own bed.
But he knew he could never go back again. He could never return to his old home; he was too proud for that, but more importantly, going back meant accepting his parents' divorce. And he wasn't about to do that.
He wrapped his arms tighter around himself. He was somewhere in Kanagawa, roaming the streets after twelve midnight, a peculiar-looking boy without a home, destination unknown. He was alone. All alone.
And somewhere else in Japan,
snow began to fall.
*****
I don't know what brought about all that. Honestly. Of course, very obviously, the essay's symbolic of my own life, but did I have to tell my sob story to my useless teacher?
Oh well, it's too late now, for I've already handed in the essay. I can only hope that he doesn't link it back to me.
Knowing how dumb he is though, I doubt I have to worry about that.
Walking to the toilet now. I excused myself from Physics as I couldn't bear sitting through the teacher's boring lesson on electromagnetic waves, even though I'm not very familiar with the topic. But I seriously need a breather, or I'll definitely implode; keeping myself awake for two periods to write an essay in English is no easy feat. I had to get out of the classroom. It's not like I can sleep in there anyway.
I don't really need to pee, but I still push open the door to the toilet. Ignoring the other people in the loo, I walk over to the wash basins and stare at myself in the mirror.
Okay. I suppose I don't look half bad. At least, I'm not as ugly as I thought I was.
But I have my "father"'s eyes. Of all things to inherit, I inherited his eyes. I can't ever avoid looking at them.
Which translates into this: I can't ever forget. No matter how much I want to.
*****
I'm walking extra-slowly back to the classroom, purposely dragging my feet along with every minuscule step. Technically, nobody can catch me and accuse me of cutting class. For goodness sake, I'm going back. It's just that I'm doing it slowly.
"Rukawa? That you?"
The voice came from behind me. I
look back, and see Mitsui walking in my direction.
"Hey," he says as he falls
into step beside me. "What are you doing out here? Don't you have class?"
"Uh-huh. Did you really need to pee?"
Well. I should've known he would see through that. I almost forgot that I'm talking to the King of All Slackers.
Mitsui laughs. "I just knew it, you sly fox you. No wonder Sakuragi nicknamed you 'kitsune'."
"Do'ahou."
Mitsui ignores my comment. We're
almost reaching my classroom now.
"Oh, by the way, the team's
having lunch together in the cafeteria. Come join us if you want to, okay?"
"Right," I say.
"You're skeptical about this too?" He shakes his head. "Man, Rukawa, why do you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders?"
I stop walking. "I don't," I reply, and open the door to my classroom and enter it without another word to Mitsui.
His footsteps echo down the empty corridor, and I listen to it until I can hear no more.
*****
The cafeteria is, as usual, jam-packed with people when I step into its vicinity. Immediately, I begin to regret my decision. The noise level in here can definitely rival that of a heavy-metal concert's. Trust me, I would know, considering I saw Meatloaf live in concert once.
Still, I scan the crowd for familiar faces, and at the same time pretending not to hear the absurdly excited cries of 'Weeee! Rukawa-kuuuuun!' all around me. Finally, I spot a patch of red amongst the sea of mostly black and brown. Not that it's much of a relief.
Kuso. The do'ahou is here too. Okay, awesome. Time to split.
Seconds after I turned to go, somebody yells my name.
"Rukawa! Over here!"
Guess I wasn't quick enough.
The first thing that greets me when I approach is not a friendly smile. Not even close. Sakuragi "do'ahou" Hanamichi stalks over to me and shoots me his evil glare.
"What are you doing here?" he demands.
I exhale. What an inherently stupid question. I don't even bother with a reply. Ignoring him, I saunter over to an empty spot and sit down, just in time to see Akagi execute a well-deserved punch on the do'ahou's head.
"Urusei, baka-saru!" Akagi bellows.
'Baka-saru'? That's certainly something new. Beside me, Mitsui and Miyagi are sniggering away while Kogure has a pained expression on his face.
"Hi Rukawa," he says to me, the wince still present. "Nice of you to join us."
I nod.
"Just ignore Sakuragi," Akagi mutters while shooting daggers in the do'ahou's direction, challenging him to create another outburst.
"Teme, Gori!" the do'ahou screeches, his eyes blazing. "Stop siding with the kitsune!"
Yare yare. There they go again. I tune them out and begin to check out the food on the table.
What? No food? Just great. I have to join the horribly long queues, thus getting close to the half-lives around me, thus dirtying my skin, just to get something to eat. This is so not worth it.
Okay, so I left my lunch at home and it's my own fault. So what. I never claimed to be perfect. And why didn't they buy anything anyway? Bunch of morons.
"I thought you weren't coming." Mitsui
nudges me in the rib. "What happened?"
I shrug. "Nothing better to do."
Mitsui's mouth falls open. "Gee, thanks a lot! Oi, Miyagi, did you hear what this impudent punk said?"
"Loud and clear," Miyagi answers slowly, fixing his eyes on me. "How very flattering!"
I roll my eyes and let out a heavy sigh. Whatever. I just want to eat.
"Food?" I ask.
Miyagi arches an eyebrow. "What about it?"
Oh forget it. These idiots are impossible. I stand up, push my chair back and embark on a journey to hunt for something good to eat.
I'm only ten paces away from the table when Mitsui stops me.
"Rukawa, hold on for a sec!"
I stop and turn around. He's half-standing, counting money in his hand.
"Get me a Coke and Miyagi a Sprite, will ya?"
He flashes me a smile, one that I bet he hopes and probably believes is disarming, and stretches his hand out to me.
"Oh, jesus," I mutter. I walk back and take the change from him.
"Thanks!" Mitsui and Miyagi chorus cheerfully.
I roll my eyes. Whatever.
*****
When I get back to the table, balancing my tray on one hand and holding my seniors' drinks in the other, the team is engaged in a discussion. A serious discussion, apparently, judging from the expressions on all of their faces.
Akagi looks up when I set my tray down. Mitsui and Miyagi immediately grab their drinks out of my hand and pull open the tab, then guzzle the contents down as if they haven't drank in ages.
"Good, you're back," Akagi says as I take my seat. "This is really important. We're discussing our game strategy for the match against Kainan on Saturday, and we need your input. What do you think?"
I nearly choke on the strand of ramen in my mouth, not just because we're discussing game strategy over lunch like a bunch of Science geeks who can't wait to get started on their latest Science experiment, but also because, in the Captain's very own words, they 'need my input'.
This is something new too.
"I don't know why we're wasting time here," the do'ahou suddenly pipes up. "It's obvious that the stupid kitsune isn't going to say anything. He's mute! Don't you all know that?"
I glare at the do'ahou. "Shut up," I growl. To the rest of the team, I say, "Run and Gun."
"You think so?"
I nod and shove another wad of noodles into my mouth.
The rest of the conversation goes something like this:
Akagi: Yeah, we were discussing that method too. You all think we should make swift and fast attacks?
Mitsui: Good idea. We'd be up against Kainan, and that's no joke. We should try to get as many points as quick as possible.
Miyagi: Yes, but how do we know they wouldn't be all over our asses when we attack? Maybe it's better to take it slow, get our pace down and get steady points.
Kogure: Yeah, Miyagi has a point.
Mitsui: No, I still think fast and quick is better. I mean, think about it. Kainan would be scoring baskets left and right. But they aren't perfect, so Sakuragi would be grabbing the offensive rebounds. Once he does it, we have to make a break for it, or the ball may be turned over. You know?
The do'ahou (sniggering): Ooh Mitchy!
Now you know the true value of the tensai!
Akagi (punching the do'ahou on the head): Be serious! This is no time to joke!
Mitsui (ignoring the do'ahou): Okay. So, opinions?
Akagi: Here's my plan, actually. I would get the ball after tip-off and one of us would run straight for the goal and wait for my pass. When he gets it, he scores immediately. This would throw the opponent off-guard and we'd have the upperhand.
Mitsui: Wonderful idea.
Miyagi: Yeah, I think we can work with that. I mean, if Akagi's pass gets intercepted, I can always steal it back.
Kogure: I have no objections.
Akagi (a tad glaringly, to Miyagi): What do you mean, if my pass gets intercepted?
Miyagi: Hehe. It was just a hypothetical 'what if'...
The do'ahou: And this tensai would be that player, right? (patting Akagi on the shoulder) I totally agree with your plan, Gori. Very good idea.
Akagi (trying to maintain his cool): No, you wouldn't be that player. I was thinking Rukawa.
The do'ahou: Nandatou? You're going to entrust that lazy fox with such an important task and not this genius?
Mitsui: He has a higher chance of scoring than you, so, yeah, I agree with Akagi.
Kogure (looking worried): Maa, Sakuragi, calm down...
(The bell goes.)
Akagi: Okay, time is up. We'll discuss this more at practice. Don't be late. And be prepared to stay late today, we've got lots to do if we're serious about beating Kainan.
Mitsui (stretching): Yes, father. We hear ya.
Miyagi: It's no problem, no problem at all.
The do'ahou (bragging as usual):
Don't worry Gori, this tensai is in his best condition as always!
Akagi (ignoring the do'ahou): Rukawa, you're okay with everything, right?
Me: Yeah.
Kogure: Yosh, it's all set then, we'll see you all later.
*****
Mitsui is apparently going in the same direction as me, which explains why he's walking with me again. I would complain, but then, I would be lying to myself.
"You know," Mitsui is saying. "It's good that you showed up. It was supposed to be a meeting but I forgot that part. So if you didn't show, Akagi would be yelling at me right now."
"Hn," I reply.
"Yeah." He suddenly stops talking, as if contemplating something. For a moment, I thought something is up, that he's going to tell me things that I don't want to hear and put me in the spot. I mean, I know I'm an accommodating person at times, but nobody wants to be burdened with other people's problems.
He leans in close to me. "By the way, can you help me find out if that girl who sits in the front row by the window is currently in a relationship? You know, the one in your class? I think she's really cute."
Is he kidding me? He's asking me for such a stupid favour? Does he know that he's still talking to Rukawa Kaede? Just because I very kindly bought him a lousy drink just now doesn't mean I'd do him favours all the time. Especially not something as dumb as the one he's asking me now.
"No."
"Aww, come on! Help me out here!"
I shake my head. "No way. You can take a hike."
Mitsui glowers at me. "Fine then. I'd just ask somebody else. It's not like I don't have any alternatives. Suit yourself."
"Yeah, whatever," I mutter. "Ja."
"Ja."
A/N: Funnily, I completed this faster than I thought I would. I was up till 3 a.m. a couple of days back just writing the first half of this chapter. Inspiration rocks.
I'm reaching the end of the fic already. Just a few more chapters, and this is done. Trying to keep it under 20 chaps. I think I can do it.
Oh, and I apologise if the funny font is hard to read. I figured Rukawa should have a messy handwriting so I chose that font. Bwahahaha.
Meatloaf is an 80s rock band. I think 'nande kuso' means 'what the hell' but of course, I may be wrong. Bwaha... er, yes.
hagane: Yeah, the ten days off is due to the SARs outbreak. I'm back to school on Wednesday though. Can't be more glad. Thanks for still reading. I appreciate it. :)
Fizah: Haha, the girl? You'll read about her sometime later. And boy, was I surprised when I saw your email in my inbox yesterday... you got power ah!
lambie: LOL. You're funny. Lucky you, getting another week off school. Have fun stoning at home! Bwahahahaha. (You are in secondary school right?)
iNsAnEbEL:
Haha. At least you bother screaming out answers during Maths. My Maths
classes in SN went something like this:
Teacher: And the answer is?
The class: (Silence)
Teacher: Class? Are we alive?
The class: (silence)
Pretty sad. Anyway, thanks for the
review. Have fun during your extra week off!
Okay, the formatting is all screwed. I bloody hate Netscape Composer. Sorry about that. Ru's messy handwriting did not show. God, I'm pissed.
-Yelen
