AN: I apologize if this chapter is a little short. Currently, I am trying to update my other fics, so this chapter might be a little bit dry. Once again, I am sorry. The next chapter will definitely be a lot better... :) Here, I mention the mysterious OC once more. Of course, It will do everyone some good to keep guessing. I won't reveal her identity until the end...Hehehehehe...Me soooo evil! ;D
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"Wrestling is ballet with violence"
--Jesse Ventura
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Makiko trudged wearily through the sidewalks of Kanagawa, hefting her bag over her shoulder as she spouted out curses, all of which were directed at one person.
"That jerk! That colossal, no good, sorry excuse for a human being!" She grated, puntuating each word with an angry stomp. Images of Mitsui flashed through her mind, making her stop in her tracks. She sighed just then.
'Even after how he treated me, I still...' Makiko shook her head to cancel that particular thought and continued on her way home, tightening her jacket around her and clutching her bag closer. Next time, Mitsui would get his come-uppances, she swore to herself as she quickened her pace. The twilight had settled in but she still had somewhere to go before heading home, hoping to work out her anger by practicing one last time at the studio.
~*~*~
"Oi..."
Mitsui turned to the source of the voice that was barely above a whisper, surprised that it was Rukawa who owned it.
"Rukawa...what's up?" He asked the rookie.
"You shouldn't treat her like dirt," Rukawa spoke in a flat monotone.
"Huh?"
The tone of Rukawa's voice was devoid of feeling, but looking into his eyes, Mitsui could see the torrent of emotions that his kohai normally kept hidden. "Whoever she is, you shouldn't treat her like dirt. You just might lose her."
Mitsui was taken aback. This was a first. Rukawa was actually TALKING. Not just in monosyllables, but in FULL sentences. And about which topic was even more amazing. Of course, ever since...well ever since SHE came along, Rukawa had become a totally changed man.
"Dude, I really don't know what you're talking about," the senior replied, closing his locker and leaning against it.
Rukawa shook his head, unruly bangs flying with the movement. "Believe me, sempai, I KNOW what I'm talking about. I came close to losing...I..." He stopped here and looked down at his shoes, shutting his eyes briefly. "I almost lost her and for a moment I was helpless..."
Mitsui placed a hand on Rukawa's shoulder. "Daijoubu, Rukawa. She loves you just as much as you do. That's what matters, ne?"
The taller boy looked up. "Then what about you, sempai?" He wanted to know, looking Mitsui dead in the eye. "What about this girl of yours?"
"Once and for all, Rukawa, I DON'T HAVE A GIRLFRIEND. And I don't plan on having one," the shooting guard replied. "You might as well tell me to drop my pants before that ever happens."
'Especially if it were Makiko who'd be your girlfriend,' a small voice in his head spoke up.
But though Mitsui tried to block out the image of Makiko when he insulted her outright, he couldn't stop thinking about her. Especially when he saw the pain etched on her face earlier that afternoon. Her words had been like a punch to the gut, had hit him harder than Hanamichi's powerful blows. He knew he had been wrong and had offended her but his stupid pride wouldn't allow him to grovel in front of her for forgiveness.
Seeing that look on her face, he had wanted to catch up with her and tell her he was sorry, but somehow his feet had been rooted to the floor and all he could do was stare after her. He couldn't take back what he said anymore.
"Sempai...it's not too late," Rukawa said, as if reading his mind. "You can still establish your relationship. You don't always have to dance around each other in circles."
Mitsui smiled in thanks and immediately packed up to go home, bidding everyone else a hasty goodbye. Maybe if he got home early enough, he'd be able to look up Makiko's phone number in the directory and talk to her...not tease her and embarrass her but make decent conversation with her...
Maybe...
~*~*~
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all...
For the nth time, Mitsui couldn't get his fingers to dial Makiko's number. Each time he grabbed the receiver and tried to dial, his hand would start to shake and he would slam the receiver down again. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration as he sat down beside the phone, staring at it angrily.
'WHAT is wrong with me?!' He groused silently. 'It's only Makiko, for crying out loud!'
Only Makiko...Yeah right. So why was he so fucking nervous?
'Admit it, Mitsui. You're scared of what she might say...'
Scared. Yeah, maybe he was.
He shook his head. Okay, he REALLY was.
But he couldn't go to sleep with a guilty conscience. And he didn't want any nagging feeling that he had botched up good. He needed his peace of mind. With jaw resolutely set and squared shoulders, Mitsui lifted up the receiver once again and slowly punched out Makiko's phone number.
The phone rang twice before it was picked up. "GoodeveningTskukiyamaResidenceMayIhelpyou?" A voice answered in one breath, sounding bored.
Well, it definitely didn't sound like a girl's voice. Mitsui relaxed. "Good evening. May I speak to Makiko, please?"
~*~*~
Hideaki sighed when the phone rang and got up from his homework to answer it. Everyone else was just as busy and since he was the only one nearest to the phone, there was nothing else he could do except answer it or risk getting a scolding from his mother. He was mildly surprised when the caller turned out to be a guy. And he certainly didn't sound like Eito.
'Who's this guy? Oneesan's boyfriend?' The twelve-year-old wondered, shifting his weight from left to right. "May I know who's calling, please?" He asked.
"Tell her I'm a friend of hers from school," the caller replied.
Hideaki rolled his eyes. "Okay, I'll get her. Chotto mattete."
Placing his hand on the mouthpiece, Hideaki pressed the intercom that connected to a small speaker in Makiko's room. Their father had insisted that they use it instead of shouting for each other and disturbing the neighborhood, so he had it installed.
"Neesan, you've got a phone call. A friend of yours from school."
Upstairs, Makiko was getting her Trigonometry done when the intercom beeped. After hearing Hideaki, she pressed the intercom button. "I'll switch to the cordless in my room, you can hang up now, Hideaki."
As soon as she lifted the handset to her ear, she heard the phone downstairs click, telling her that her younger brother had replaced the phone in its cradle. "Hello?"
Nobody answered so Makiko tried again, "Hello? Who's this?"
The sound of a throat being cleared was heard at the other end and soon someone spoke up. "Makiko."
She froze in her seat. There was no mistaking that voice. The timbre was the same, a baritone that was as smooth as a cup of frothy cappucino, able to melt your insides once it settled down in your stomach. But right now, she just felt like slamming down the phone.
"What do you want?" She asked, hoping that her voice sounded cold enough.
At the sound of her voice, Mitsui winced. She sounded like she had swallowed a spike and wanted to spit it out with the pointed end aimed between his brows. He hesitated. Was this a good time? She didn't sound too happy that he called.
'Well, d-uh! Who would after what you did?'
He closed his eyes. It was now or never...
"I called to say I was sorry."
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To be continued...
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"Wrestling is ballet with violence"
--Jesse Ventura
=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=
Makiko trudged wearily through the sidewalks of Kanagawa, hefting her bag over her shoulder as she spouted out curses, all of which were directed at one person.
"That jerk! That colossal, no good, sorry excuse for a human being!" She grated, puntuating each word with an angry stomp. Images of Mitsui flashed through her mind, making her stop in her tracks. She sighed just then.
'Even after how he treated me, I still...' Makiko shook her head to cancel that particular thought and continued on her way home, tightening her jacket around her and clutching her bag closer. Next time, Mitsui would get his come-uppances, she swore to herself as she quickened her pace. The twilight had settled in but she still had somewhere to go before heading home, hoping to work out her anger by practicing one last time at the studio.
~*~*~
"Oi..."
Mitsui turned to the source of the voice that was barely above a whisper, surprised that it was Rukawa who owned it.
"Rukawa...what's up?" He asked the rookie.
"You shouldn't treat her like dirt," Rukawa spoke in a flat monotone.
"Huh?"
The tone of Rukawa's voice was devoid of feeling, but looking into his eyes, Mitsui could see the torrent of emotions that his kohai normally kept hidden. "Whoever she is, you shouldn't treat her like dirt. You just might lose her."
Mitsui was taken aback. This was a first. Rukawa was actually TALKING. Not just in monosyllables, but in FULL sentences. And about which topic was even more amazing. Of course, ever since...well ever since SHE came along, Rukawa had become a totally changed man.
"Dude, I really don't know what you're talking about," the senior replied, closing his locker and leaning against it.
Rukawa shook his head, unruly bangs flying with the movement. "Believe me, sempai, I KNOW what I'm talking about. I came close to losing...I..." He stopped here and looked down at his shoes, shutting his eyes briefly. "I almost lost her and for a moment I was helpless..."
Mitsui placed a hand on Rukawa's shoulder. "Daijoubu, Rukawa. She loves you just as much as you do. That's what matters, ne?"
The taller boy looked up. "Then what about you, sempai?" He wanted to know, looking Mitsui dead in the eye. "What about this girl of yours?"
"Once and for all, Rukawa, I DON'T HAVE A GIRLFRIEND. And I don't plan on having one," the shooting guard replied. "You might as well tell me to drop my pants before that ever happens."
'Especially if it were Makiko who'd be your girlfriend,' a small voice in his head spoke up.
But though Mitsui tried to block out the image of Makiko when he insulted her outright, he couldn't stop thinking about her. Especially when he saw the pain etched on her face earlier that afternoon. Her words had been like a punch to the gut, had hit him harder than Hanamichi's powerful blows. He knew he had been wrong and had offended her but his stupid pride wouldn't allow him to grovel in front of her for forgiveness.
Seeing that look on her face, he had wanted to catch up with her and tell her he was sorry, but somehow his feet had been rooted to the floor and all he could do was stare after her. He couldn't take back what he said anymore.
"Sempai...it's not too late," Rukawa said, as if reading his mind. "You can still establish your relationship. You don't always have to dance around each other in circles."
Mitsui smiled in thanks and immediately packed up to go home, bidding everyone else a hasty goodbye. Maybe if he got home early enough, he'd be able to look up Makiko's phone number in the directory and talk to her...not tease her and embarrass her but make decent conversation with her...
Maybe...
~*~*~
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all...
For the nth time, Mitsui couldn't get his fingers to dial Makiko's number. Each time he grabbed the receiver and tried to dial, his hand would start to shake and he would slam the receiver down again. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration as he sat down beside the phone, staring at it angrily.
'WHAT is wrong with me?!' He groused silently. 'It's only Makiko, for crying out loud!'
Only Makiko...Yeah right. So why was he so fucking nervous?
'Admit it, Mitsui. You're scared of what she might say...'
Scared. Yeah, maybe he was.
He shook his head. Okay, he REALLY was.
But he couldn't go to sleep with a guilty conscience. And he didn't want any nagging feeling that he had botched up good. He needed his peace of mind. With jaw resolutely set and squared shoulders, Mitsui lifted up the receiver once again and slowly punched out Makiko's phone number.
The phone rang twice before it was picked up. "GoodeveningTskukiyamaResidenceMayIhelpyou?" A voice answered in one breath, sounding bored.
Well, it definitely didn't sound like a girl's voice. Mitsui relaxed. "Good evening. May I speak to Makiko, please?"
~*~*~
Hideaki sighed when the phone rang and got up from his homework to answer it. Everyone else was just as busy and since he was the only one nearest to the phone, there was nothing else he could do except answer it or risk getting a scolding from his mother. He was mildly surprised when the caller turned out to be a guy. And he certainly didn't sound like Eito.
'Who's this guy? Oneesan's boyfriend?' The twelve-year-old wondered, shifting his weight from left to right. "May I know who's calling, please?" He asked.
"Tell her I'm a friend of hers from school," the caller replied.
Hideaki rolled his eyes. "Okay, I'll get her. Chotto mattete."
Placing his hand on the mouthpiece, Hideaki pressed the intercom that connected to a small speaker in Makiko's room. Their father had insisted that they use it instead of shouting for each other and disturbing the neighborhood, so he had it installed.
"Neesan, you've got a phone call. A friend of yours from school."
Upstairs, Makiko was getting her Trigonometry done when the intercom beeped. After hearing Hideaki, she pressed the intercom button. "I'll switch to the cordless in my room, you can hang up now, Hideaki."
As soon as she lifted the handset to her ear, she heard the phone downstairs click, telling her that her younger brother had replaced the phone in its cradle. "Hello?"
Nobody answered so Makiko tried again, "Hello? Who's this?"
The sound of a throat being cleared was heard at the other end and soon someone spoke up. "Makiko."
She froze in her seat. There was no mistaking that voice. The timbre was the same, a baritone that was as smooth as a cup of frothy cappucino, able to melt your insides once it settled down in your stomach. But right now, she just felt like slamming down the phone.
"What do you want?" She asked, hoping that her voice sounded cold enough.
At the sound of her voice, Mitsui winced. She sounded like she had swallowed a spike and wanted to spit it out with the pointed end aimed between his brows. He hesitated. Was this a good time? She didn't sound too happy that he called.
'Well, d-uh! Who would after what you did?'
He closed his eyes. It was now or never...
"I called to say I was sorry."
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To be continued...
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