Unbaransu na Kisu wo Shite

by Rhygell

Sakuragi Hanamichi is confused. He thought that he liked Haruko, but he doesn't. He thought he hated Rukawa, but he doesn't. He thought Sendoh was just a friend, but he wasn't. Unbalanced kisses had been the cause; could an unbalanced kiss be the solution

1. Unbaransu na Kisu wo Shite

Title: Unbaransu na Kisu wo Shite (Give me an Unbalanced Kiss)
Genre: Romance
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: YAOI (and they all ran away)
Warning: OOC and slight autism? Language. Not edited. One of those spur of the moment ideas. *gasp* Eeeeeeeeeee! An author-insert somewhere?!
Notes: I've been itching to write this! I got the idea while listening to the song (where I got the title) ... I don't know if anyone had done this before ... *shrug* I haven't read any Slam Dunk fic similar to this ... anyway ... I like it well enough. Oh ... Before I forget, my thanks to Kaesaku-san *glomp* and my Redeemed Muse, who are both diehard Micchan devotees.
Read and review, onegai! Comments and criticisms are most welcome. Flames will only be glared at by the Ice King himself, as well as be laughed upon and scorned by the redhead Tensai. Sankyuu!
Summary: Sakuragi Hanamichi is confused. He thought that he liked Haruko, but he doesn't. He thought he hated Rukawa, but he doesn't. He thought Sendoh was just a friend, but he wasn't. Unbalanced kisses had been the cause; could an unbalanced kiss be the solution?
Disclaimer: The song is from Yuu Yuu Hakusho. It's the second ending track, I think. SD isn't and will never be mine. Such a sad fate. Oh, and Marge Simpson is not mine, either, along with some trademarks generously scattered throughout this fic.
Dedications: This fic is dedicated to the readers (especially to those of you who'll hopefully like this fic), yaoi fans, and most especially to him, the certified heartthrob with dark honey fox-eyes. *Rhygell rereads the last phrase, blinks, yawns, and decides to leave it as is, muttering, 'Stupid kid'.*
Unbaransu na Kisu wo Shite

It was well after an arduous basketball practice in Shohoku that breezy Saturday night, but the lights were still on inside the gym. Twilight had long since fallen, and it was about eight in the evening. Only two people were left in the gym, and both of them were in the locker room, ready to indulge in their well-earned rest, preparing to leave.

Well, that was what it looked like in the first glance, that is.

"What do you think you're doing?!" a freshly showered Sakuragi Hanamichi, clad only in a terry-cloth towel, demanded at his assaulter, as he successfully pinned the squirming redhead against the lockers. "Hell ... what the — are you drunk or high on something?" Undulating his muscled body did nothing to help him about his predicament, yet he continued struggling mightily. "If this is a joke, it isn't funny! Mou ... Yarou, kitsune, let me go!" He tried to use his headbutt, but it was merely evaded with an agile movement.

Rukawa Kaede, fully dressed unlike the other, regarded him coldly. "Do'ahou." He moved closer so that their noses were almost bumping against each other. Sakuragi, not giving him the satisfaction of recoiling even though he felt to, matched him glare for glare, brown eyes blazing with defiance, boring into the blue icy depths.

His pale full lips curled and twisted into something that resembled a smirk, before he spoke.

"Baka ... Hanamichi," he drawled.

The redhead, rather taken aback by the proximity, the action, and the reference to him, could only stand shock-still, temporarily rendered speechless. Most definitely a first.

"Haven't you thought of it?" Rukawa was saying now. His breath, quite ragged, was on Sakuragi's lips. Sweet. The redhead cursed silently, snarling surreptitiously. "Hate." Rukawa raised his clenched fist, as if to strike him. He braced himself for the blow that never came. "Love." A pair of glimmering cobalt orbs traced a line of fire along his cheekbones, and the dipping curves of his face. "To cross the blurred line separating them." The usual glacial voice was permeated with a trail of playful coy. It sent a shiver down his spine, in more ways than one.

Confusion evident in his features, he stared at him in askance.

"A punch can become a caress ..." He drew his knuckles over the frozen face almost reverently. "An insult can become a confession ..." Roaming fingers tilted his face; they were pressed chest-to-chest, aligned perfectly. "Or even a kiss ..."

Astounding! He actually used sixteen words in one go! the inane thought came to him.

Foxy sapphire eyes did not even blink as he closed what distance remained, their lips meeting in a most tentative of kisses. Barely a taste, nothing more. Rukawa pulled back then, appraising Sakuragi silently, the haze of desire barely reined in by self-control.

Surprised and stunned that Rukawa gave him a chance to shy away, and generally at the kiss itself, Sakuragi only managed to react a few seconds later. He jerked away, of course.

"What do you think you're doing?" he repeated in a hiss, incredulous, blinking rapidly. Smug bastard! Teme, korusu! "And who are you calling a do'ahou?! I'm no do'ahou, you stupid, good-for-nothing, worthless, cold, unfeeling, silent kitsune! You dare insult me, baka yarou! I'll kill you —! Are you listening to me, baka kitsune?! I asked you what the hell you think you're doing! You dare not answer me —!"

"The point is," he spoke, purposely ignoring Sakuragi's ranting and raving, which, mostly, consisted of plain insults. He craned his neck a little, so that every movement caused their lips to brush against each other, different, more casual than the first, though the contact was deeper; they were practically kissing — properly, this time — already. Talking meant kissing; Sakuragi ceased insulting him, resorting to his hard glares, rather than risk inevitable movement of his lips against his rival's. "You're inclined to me. You might even love me." There was an almost teasing glint in his dark cobalt eyes. "Admit it, Hana."

The nerve! Why you ...! "Fucking bastard!" he growled under his breath, trying not to move his lips much, in vain. "Yarou ... you're insane, that's what you are, you baka hentai kitsune ...!" He trashed around fruitlessly. "Egoistic fuck! Let me go! I don't like you!"

"You don't like me." the tone managed to sound frigid and mocking at the same time, in a matter-of-fact voice. It was a more of a statement rather than a question, though it was clearly both. Rukawa raised an eyebrow, seemingly amused at Sakuragi's implacable insolence. "You didn't like it?" The teasingly cynical voice scorned him. The raven-haired rookie eyed the cloth that curtailed his visual spree; with one swift motion, he undid the towel that held Sakuragi's modesty intact.

He stared openly, unnervingly, at the sight the redhead displayed. There was a definite smirk on his lips now. "I can see you didn't enjoy my earlier actions." Sarcasm laced his usually monotonous voice.

Granted, the redhead should be thankful that his tormentor is not a man of words, or else he would have been humiliated beyond measure. Whatever he lacked in verbal assault, though, the pale fox certainly made up for his eyes, and his piercing stare. Scary.

"Teme!" Sakuragi grabbed the towel, which had fallen to the floor, to salvage what dignity, if there were any, that had been left in him.

Smirk still in place, Rukawa turned his back, not minding the curses and protests heaped upon him relentlessly.

"Think about it, Hanamichi."

"Teme, kitsune! Come back here! Korusu!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Think about it, Hanamichi.

That was exactly what Sakuragi was doing that night. On the other hand, it could be considered morning already, given the case, with dawn only a couple of hours or so away.

Hell, it's ... he glanced at the digital clock beside his bed, the luminous numbers proclaiming the time. It irritated him to no end, knowing that he should be sleeping, and not staring at the faintly glowing digits, wide awake. Two ten ... no, make that two eleven, in the morning, and I haven't been able to sleep a wink ever since I got home ...

He was strangely and unbelievably hyperactive. It had nothing to do with his stamina, it was more like as if his brain was wired up; his body felt dead tired. It, possibly, had to do something with his excessive caffeine dosage or copious chocolate intake, but was more probably induced by the accident in the locker room a while ago.

How dare that kitsune suggest that I, Rebound King, tensai Sakuragi, like him?! he thought mutinously, twisting in bed to get a more comfortable position and, with a tidbit of luck, fall asleep. How dare that kitsune steal my first kiss?! How dare that kitsune ...?!

He sighed as he felt the familiar stirrings in his groin. Oh, shit. This is what got me in trouble in the first place.

He only shifted his weight, ignoring his erection, trying to deny the source of it.

I am NOT attracted to that cold kitsune!

A cold shower ought to do the trick. He considered the idea, then thought better of it. After all, a cold shower was a bad idea for someone trying to sleep as soon as possible, for him, at least. The thought of the cold water washing over him made his skin acutely aware, and awake, though it keeps some of the normal physical responses at bay. I could try lying on my stomach ... Nah. Bad idea, very, very bad idea.

He bristled irritably, punching his pillow a few times before settling back down the mattress. He only wished his body could obey his mind. Kicking off his blanket, he sat up, stretched, and settled back, this time, with an arm cushioning his head. He squeezed his eyes firmly shut, and tried to sleep.

I have officially acquired insomnia, and am currently suffering from it, thanks to that worthless okama of a kitsune. Shame, though. He's cute, and he's got a nice arse, too. ARGH! NO! RUKAWA KAEDE IS NOT CUTE, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE! AND I DON'T STARE AT HIS LARGE TIGHT DELECTABLE ASS!

He tried to think of chibi-Hanamichis making dunks, to take the place of the totally clichéd sheep-counting method, but the image was soon replaced with strutting blue-eyed foxes shooting a fade-away. The scene shifted, depicting battalions of nude, lissome Rukawas crawling towards him seductively. The redhead banished the rather tempting but totally uncomfortable picture immediately.

His cheeks burned. "ARGH! STOP PESTERING ME, YOU HENTAI BAKA KITSUNE!!! I FRIGGIN' HATE YOU!!!"

"Oi, keep it down, you punk!" one of his neighbors hollered. Apparently, he had been too vocal, enough to wake and bother people. Not that he cared much.

Placing a pillow just above the bridge of his nose, covering his eyes, he crossed his legs, trying to think of another technique to lull himself to blissful slumber. He almost regretted the fact that smashing his head would not let him sleep, but would only reduce the said object into a pile of rubble. Almost.

One lemon, two lemons, three lemons, four lemons, five lemons, six lemons, seven lemons ... Smiley-faced lemons? Eight lemons, nine lemons, ten lemons ...

He thumped his bed with his fists, amazed and quite irritated that it took him long enough to figure out his problem. Or someone who could help him through it, anyway.

Lemons? Smiley?

That's it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oi ... Smiley," Sakuragi, childish, on the verge of throwing a tantrum, tugged at Sendoh Akira's shirtsleeve impatiently, demanding. "Smiley, you're not listening to me."

"I am listening to you, Hana-kun," Sendoh, immersed in his large lemon-shaped beanbag, replied, as he looked at the distressed redhead. "Doush'ta na?" He swallowed a spoonful of lemon meringue pie and took a sip of his iced water[1] before prodding Sakuragi to continue.

The redhead was suddenly fidgety, pumping his foot anxiously, refusing to answer him. He would have stuck out his tongue, if chance may be given. He crossed his arms stubbornly over his well-built chest. Sendoh sighed. Kawaii. Simply kawaii.

"C'mon, Hana-kun," he said cheerfully, the charming, if not somewhat naughty and flirty, billion-megawatt smile not leaving his face pleasantly open face. "I'm sorry. You came all the way here to my house, so it must be something big. Tell me." He lifted Sakuragi's chin with his cupped palm on the redhead's jaw, not allowing him to turn away. "I won't be able to help you if you don't."

Hopeful, though hurt, brown eyes met his azure ones. "Hontou ni? You want to help me?"

"Of course, Hana-kun. Gomen ne, if I weren't paying attention a while ago. Na, don't be angry at me."

A weak smile was all the answer he needed. Damn, he's such a darling. "Un. Sumimasen."

"So, tell me your problem. I'm listening this time, promise." He held up his right hand solemnly, placing it somewhere more or less above his heart.

The redhead bit his lip hesitantly. He took a deep breath, deep dark honey eyes wary and shifty. "Smiley ... Ineedyoutokissme."

"Eh?" Sendoh pouted, his brows knitted cutely in confusion. Rubbing the back of his neck, he tried to discern the last sentence, if it can be called as such, which was managed to be uttered in 0.45 seconds. Did I hear ... what I thought I heard? "I think I didn't hear you right." He stared disbelievingly at him. "You're asking me to kiss you?"

Sakuragi kept quiet, not meeting his cerulean eyes full of understanding, and mirth.

It couldn't get any better than this ...

He chuckled softly. "Don't worry, Hana-kun, I'm not offended by your request." Doesn't even come close to it. The redhead sighed in relief as Sendoh read his mind perfectly. "I'm just a bit ... surprised." That, and I'm terribly, infinitely giddy. Waah, Hana-kun, daisuki! He cupped his chin, resting it on the base of his left palm. "Doush'te?"

"Well," Sakuragi started. "There's this guy ..." he refused to say who it was, "And he kinda hinted that ... I like him ... that way." The spiky-haired ace raised his eyebrows. "Don't get the wrong idea! I don't like guys in that way. I'm straight. I like girls. I have a crush on Haruko-san." You needn't remind me, Hana-kun. "But ... I like it when ..." he blushed chastely. "I'm with this other guy." He cleared his throat. "I think ... you know, in that way."

Sendoh nodded to show that he understood. "Sou ne. So what's my role here?" He winked cheekily, making suggestive movements with his arms and hips that made Sakuragi burn with embarrassment. "Don't tell me you're confessing your undying love for me, Hana-kun, because I've waited long enough for that! I love you and I want you so bad!"

"Eeeeeehhhh ... baka hentai Smiley!"

He laughed. Do'kawaii ... My innocent Hana-kun ... How I love perpetuating my image ... "Jodan, jodan! Na ... Hana-kun, no need to look sulky. Do you know you look so kissable, pouting your lips like that?" he puckered up and blew a loud kiss to the self-proclaimed tensai. If Sakuragi was blushing then, he looked as if on fire now. It didn't take much imagination to picture smoke coming out from his ears. "I'm joking, Hana-kun, really. So, what does kissing you had to do with it?"

Sakuragi whimsically folded his arms in front of his chest. He looked similar to a four-year-old very adorable toddler, if not for the almost visible storm cloud hanging over him. The Ryounan ace was only a few paces away from squealing outright and glomping the redhead. "I don't like guys," he kept repeating stubbornly. "Not him."

Sendoh sweatdropped. Well, that, at least, is good news. For a moment, he fancied asking if there was absolutely no chance, at all, of himself being the guy his friend was talking about. After a while, it did not seem to be a very good idea, not even the slightest bit. "Let me deliberate over this for a moment. You want me to kiss you so that you can see if you like guys, is that it?"

Sakuragi blushed again, nodding.

"Aww, Hana-kun, you didn't have to be so worried." He shrugged his broad shoulders, twisting his neck a bit as he did. In his opinion, the seemingly permanent flush on the redhead's cheeks made him look terribly cute, as if he wasn't, in the first place. "You came to the right person! Not that I like snogging, which I do, but ... They say I'm a champion kisser." He gave a short chuckle. "Anyway, if that's what you want, I can help you ..."

"So ... you're okay with it?"

He smiled. My adorable redhead. So innocent. "Sure. I mean, as a favor. You're my friend, ne?"

"Un! And if there would be any guy that I'd like, it'd be you, not him," Sakuragi agreed.

Oh ... really? "I'm ... flattered ... Hana-kun," he answered sincerely. Inside, he was already jumping up and down, nearly bursting with exhilaration. He got off from the dark purple beanbag and slipped next to Sakuragi on the plush loveseat.

"Saa ... iku ka."

He moved towards Sendoh unobtrusively, who covered the distance immediately between them. With infinite tenderness, Sendoh tipped Sakuragi's chin, tilting his face so that they could breathe through their noses. The redhead, arms wrapped hesitantly around Sendoh, had his eyes closed while the Ryounan ace watched, azure eyes drinking up the unwavering expression on his face. And they kissed.

Sakuragi was perfect, mouth passive without being slack, warm velvet heat inviting to be ravished. He nibbled on the luscious satiny flesh, nipping teasingly, eliciting murmurs of approval as his long nimble fingers traced languid circles and errant patterns on the redhead's taut pectorals sensuously. There was a certain novelty about him, and the innocent curiosity as he parted his silken lips to allow the probing, questing tongue. Sendoh almost moaned, a deep hum that heightened the sensation. Sakuragi gasped, tongue scraping tongue, drawing it in the moist recesses of his mouth. It was so good, too sinfully heavenly. Sendoh ran his tongue greedily along the row of even white teeth, skimming the palate; he shifted his angle and he felt the redhead shiver as he lapped at the heated cavern, toying with the seemingly palpitating lower lip. He tasted him thoroughly, completely, insatiably. He craved — ached — for the ecstatic moans he effortlessly elicited from the utterly compliant redhead.

It was a truly intimate act, befitting for lovers, almost a plunder of sorts; Sakuragi offering something exalted and precious. Sendoh smiled. He felt the heat and the pressure gathering at his groin, the electricity zinging his nerves, the tightness in his jeans ...

Sakuragi pulled back, irresolute, breathing heavily, chest heaving with erratic panting. Thankfully, he did, before the spiky-haired Smiley could lose himself to the sensory overload. "Gomen, Smiley. Couldn't breathe."

He smiled, sheepish. "Oh, that was long [*read: that nonstop snogging took no less than ten minutes*], don't mind. No offense taken."

He smothered a groan. Sakuragi was more composed, but the lax, sated, nearly post-coital expression on his face did nothing to help Sendoh's current state of hormone frenzy. "You okay now, Hana-kun?" 'Coz I'm not ... It suddenly felt as if he was on a kiln, smoldering, the heat was consuming his overdriven senses, a deluge of fire. His pants seemed too tight as sweat broke on his back, all over his body ...

The redhead nodded. "Sankyuu."

He raised his arm, though, as if to wipe his mouth with it. It seemed that he hesitated, however, conscious of the azure eyes on him, thinking that his friend would be affronted by the act, Sakuragi settled for drinking the nearby Gatorade TM Lime-Lemon. He guzzled down half of the bottle in one draught. The sultry cold liquid sloshing down his throat reminded him of the Ryounan ace, who was only a mere half-foot from him, of how he felt, especially of how he tasted. He could sense himself flushing inexorably, his face rivaling the scarlet hue of his hair.

Putting a considerable bit of respectable distance between them, Sendoh tried to control his berserk hormones, which appeared to be roused and needled by the sight of the redhead's bobbing Adam's apple. He licked his lips. He could still taste Sakuragi there. Yum.

"So?" He tilted his head inquisitively, questioning. He couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the slightly parted swollen lips, so inviting to be kissed again ... "How was it?" He raised his eyebrows provocatively. "Bet I kiss better than him, hmm?"

"Smiley, hentai!" Sakuragi was blushing profusely.

I'll take that as a yes. Oh, damn ...

"But, seriously," the redhead continued. "I felt ..." he took a deep calming breath. "Nothing."

Sendoh pouted, subconsciously seductive. The words struck him, affecting him more than he expected. "Maa ... Did I lose my touch? Mataku ..." It took him immense effort not to pin the redhead on the couch, and show him his exceptional talent ... Oh, it's the hormones again, somebody help me ...

He laughed merrily. "Iie. That was something. But it was ... bland. Well, you do taste citrus-like, with all those lemons you eat, but that's another thing. No offense ..."

Friggin' hormones, literally and figuratively. NOT NOW! "Nah, it's okay, don't worry." He waved off further explanations and apologies. You're really so sweet, Hana-kun. Die of envy, Rukawa! "Anything to brighten up your day. Dachi nan darou, ne, Hana-kun?"

When the right time comes, Hana-kun ...

"Hai, hai." Sakuragi's grin was irresistible and contagious. "Sankyuu, Smiley."

I'll have you ... I promise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That Monday afternoon, about ten minutes before the official practice began, Sakuragi braced himself for the ultimate challenge.

Heck, winning Fear Factor TM looks damn easier compared to this, eating live insects and all. He grimaced. Baka kitsune.

The locker room was empty; Mitsui, Miyagi, Akagi, and their other teammates were in the gym, starting early, which was usual. Assuredly, nobody would interrupt them, should they decide to do something.

Nothing is going to blow up a Tensai's plan.

He only prayed that he wouldn't die of cardiac arrest before it was over.

The redhead tapped Rukawa on the shoulder.

He turned to face Sakuragi. "Do'ahou."

Ignore ... "I have to talk to you."

Sapphire foxy eyes were suddenly alight and awake. Rukawa shrugged, adjusting his pristine armband, as he gazed at him pointedly.

"So talk."

Taking a deep breath, Sakuragi managed to make his voice smooth, which was, to a certain level, already an accomplishment. "Last Saturday you said that I was inclined to you. That I like you."

There it was again, the self-assured smirk. "I know. You do."

He flashed him a cocky mocking grin, which, for his part, did not waver. "For your information, Rukawa I'm-so-good-I'm-better-than-Sendoh-I'm-so-cool-you-should-all-bow-and-grovel-before-my-feet-and-kiss-my-shoes-when-I-pass-by Kaede, I'm not a damn faggot like you are. And my point is, if I were one, I wouldn't be inclined to you." He relaxed, pointing rudely, almost jabbing his forefinger on Rukawa's exposed collarbone, to add emphasis to his blunt words. "And I can prove it to you."

"Really." He uncrossed his arms over his bare chest, the pale expanse of skin glistening with a slight sheen of perspiration. "Show me." He paused, eyes narrowing. "Do'ahou."

"Teme! Never underestimate Tensai Sakuragi, you fox-eyes!" He sniffed contemptuously. "I will make you regret what you said!"

With those words, he pounced on Rukawa, pinning him against the lockers, and began to French kiss him fervently for all he was worth.

But Rukawa knew the game. No matter who initiated it, they were playing by his rules, and he would get what he wanted, how he wanted it. Hands that were resting on the redhead's broad shoulders snaked around his waist; he reached down and squeezed his arse firmly, and the self-proclaimed genius jerked forcefully at the stimulus, thrusting his hips against his dark-haired rival's, groin to groin. Delighting in the friction, he did it again, and again ... and again ...

Rukawa seized the moment at hand, turning the tables, Sakuragi at the mercy of his hungry and skillful mouth. He refrained from leaving ten screaming fingernail marks on the redhead's muscled back; rather, he ran a single light fingertip down his spine, the soft touch resting its warm weight on the small of Sakuragi's back, making him arch, taut as a bowstring, needy. The kiss never broke. Hearing the wanton whimpers directed to him stoked his passion, pleasurable as any touch, or as any movement of the redhead against him.

The pale ace felt sore and battered, not only on his upper arms where the self-proclaimed tensai held him tight, but also on his rear. Bruises were forming on Rukawa's back but he did not mind it one bit as Sakuragi suddenly pulled away, embarrassed by his actions. The super rookie fought back the urge to laugh and smirk, keeping his facial expressions in check.

Shimatta! I screwed up!

When Rukawa spoke, it was almost like a purr, smug and contented, coming from a cat — a fox, this time — satiated with its fill of cream. "Oh, I see. Point taken." I hope you can see this, hentai ahou. Hanamichi is mine. He sauntered off, slipping on his dark blue shirt, hips swaying teasingly, oozing feline and dignified grace, and left the flushed and cursing redhead to join the practice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sakuragi felt a hand on his ass. Knowing better than to look for the culprit, he only cursed under his breath.

"Kitsune, yarou ..."

He continued walking towards the rooftop, refusing to acknowledge the presence, and the eyes on his back, or more accurately, on his butt.

The kitsune just wouldn't leave him alone.

It had been a week since the second locker room scene, and the preceding days kept the aggrieved redhead on tenterhooks. Rukawa would startle him just when he thought he was safe: Taking him from the crowd, kissing him, then leaving him breathless and always aroused. It made Sakuragi weak in the knees, and he hated feeling that, as much as he hated the kitsune for making him feel that way.

And when that wasn't enough, the inkling that he was being watched never left him, and that whenever he let his guard down, he gets groped lasciviously.

Stalking and sexual harassment. Who would have thought?

If his shinetai ever knows of this, they're going to have a field day. The thought made him smile wryly. A row with the shinetai because of Rukawa liking him. How unlikely. How true. How probable. To think that they deem the kitsune higher than him, the Tensai ...

Almost immediately, the hairs on his nape rose, as he felt a languid touch on the small of his back, going lower before resting the warm pressure on his ass.

At least, Sakuragi noted with a measure of relief, he didn't pinch it this time. I'm running out of linen and Band Aid ... or any kind of bandage for that matter ...

"Admit you like me, Hana." That voice. Again. The pressure lifted, but not before there was a soft warm breath on his ear. "Like I do."

No question. This was definitely hell.

Rukawa had an infuriating preference for unused classrooms, corridors, crowded hallways and the like. The thrill, most specially, the possible certainty, of getting caught was so palpable, an intense driving force. It seemed to be one of the reasons why Rukawa kept doing it that way, and maybe, to catch the redhead's fancy. Since even Sakuragi was looking forward to it, enjoying the danger he, they, were flirting with.

It was enough to drive him over the edge of sanity.

He was exasperated with all of it. He was tired of bandaging his neck or keeping his shirt on at all times, trying to hide all the bruises (from being shoved against the stairs, the lockers, the bleachers, the teacher's cubicle ...), love bites/hickeys, and fingernail marks he received. Finally getting the SharpieTM-written PROPERTY OF RUKAWA KAEDE: BACK OFF, SLUT OR ELSE ... !!! erased from his abs, rear, and God knows where else, was his only comfort the past few days.

He lived between eager anticipation and frustrated arousal. And he didn't like it one bit.

The hand was back on his rear. Sakuragi knew that he shouldn't look at him, for surely, it was he again who was driving him insane, but he did it, anyway.

As soon as he faced Rukawa, he was attacked by soft insistent lips.

That was the wonder of it. However rough the assault, however harsh the actions, Rukawa's kisses were always gentle, too good to be true. He felt that he was getting shoved against the wall, but he didn't mind it, senses focused on his sworn rival.

At that, the raven-haired one pulled away, chuckling throatily. Sakuragi stared at him through a haze of confusion and ungratified desire. Then he realized.

"You're responding, at last," he murmured, brushing his fingertips along the contour of Sakuragi's swollen lips. "That's good ..."

"Yarou, kitsune! How dare you ...!"

The protests and oaths, all in a very creative and colorful language, fell on deaf ears as the Ice King started for the exit leisurely, elated, with a microscopic smile on his handsome features.

Yes ... Why not?

"Do'ahou."

"NANI?! Teme, kora —!"

Rukawa lifted his hand. "Saisho ni."

Frowning deeply, he followed the foxy-eyed freshman until the doorknob was within reach. "Speak up, kitsune. What the frigging hell are you talking about?"

He stopped walking to face the redhead and, lifting his chin rather arrogantly, rested his gaze on the do'ahou, who was peering at him thoughtfully. He leaned in, enjoying Sakuragi's even breathing on his slightly parted lips. Cobalt eyes searing and, at the same time, soft, he answered. "Here," he placed his hand on Sakuragi's chest, over his heart, feeling its steady rhythmic flutter. He bared his words of ice. "Is where we first met."

At those words, he was again set into motion and disappeared behind the door, leaving behind the confused redhead to sputter incoherent half-formed thoughts indignantly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ayako frowned thoughtfully. It was a humid Thursday afternoon, and it was drizzling outside. Not that it had anything to do with the story. Captain Akagi had called for a ten-minute break because even Mitsui Hisashi, resident former MVP and dedicated player he was, was hinting complaints that they were over-exerting themselves. As a matter of fact, the only ones who were not protesting at all were the captain, the paper-fan-wielding manageress, and two certain freshmen.

She noticed the redhead shooting an exceptionally dark look at a particular player who was ... smiling? Nah. Impossible. It's just as if someone would say that Fujima Kenji does not have a trace of any femininity in his features, or Kiyota Nobunaga badmouthing and insulting Maki Shin'ichi, or that Sendoh "Spiky" Akira was not a huge hentai, even when he doesn't smile, or ... well, that a specific raven-haired super rookie of Shohoku was smiling. But he had been, she was sure of that. She shook her head, brown curly wisps escaping her ponytail, determined to get to the bottom of it.

Because a smiling Rukawa is very dangerous.

The self-proclaimed tensai turned away, withdrawing his gaze. Rukawa only smiled wider, about a couple of nanometers more.

Not to mention very, very disturbing.

Curiosity kills the cat, but she wasn't a cat, right? Nothing to worry about, then.

"Na, Sakuragi Hanamichi." Ayako gave him a light tap on the arm with her formidable paper fan. "What's been bothering you this past week, huh?"

"Nan de mo nai, Ayako-san!" He quickly performed one of those stupid Tensai antics that had never fooled the team manager. "Ore wa tensai basketoman! Nyahahahahahahah ..."

She had to hand it to Sakuragi, the thought suddenly pushing onto the surface of her mind. Inexhaustible bottomless stamina, as Sendoh had eloquently put it. He was only sweating after the drills that the Captain had made them go through. Mitsui-sempai and Kogure-sempai bitching. But that wasn't important now.

"It's a love problem, isn't it?"

At the stricken look that suddenly flitted across his eyes expressively proved her suspicions right. She nodded and gave herself an imaginary pat on the shoulder.

Sakuragi crossed his arms over his chest and refused to speak, his cheeks burning. He was never one who could keep something hidden for too long, in her observations and opinion.

"Maybe I can help." She shrugged then hit Sakuragi with her fan as he threw dubious glances at her. "You don't trust my girl instincts?" She shook her head, clucking her tongue. "If you don't believe me ..." she stopped to smile knowingly at the redhead. "It's not about Haruko, ne? Well, not really. But it's someone else that you're crushing on." She smiled at him. "Right?"

"NANI?!" Sakuragi stared at her as if she suddenly adopted his friend's gravity-defying hairdo. She'd look like Marge Simpson, except that her hair was brown, not blue. He vaguely wondered if Ryocchin would have liked her still if she was to have that appearance.

"How did ..." he lowered his voice, glancing around cautiously. Ayako simply giggled.

"I told you so, Sakuragi Hanamichi." Hands on her hips, she tapped her foot imposingly. "So? What happened? I won't tattle, promise. And I'll help you, too."

"Bully female Gori," Sakuragi muttered darkly.

But Ayako-san might help me. He bit his lip. And I can't stand another day in HELL. And girls know more about these kinds of stuff ...

"Since the Tensai is very considerate, I will tell you, Ayako-san!" His face was another story, though. He looked dead serious, and she moved closer so that they can converse privately.

One could only hope that Miyagi Ryouta wouldn't see them and kill Sakuragi on the spot.

"Etto ..." he started. "There's this guy who kissed me." He paused, expectant. I think she'd freak out any time now ...

Ayako nodded to show that she understood. "Okay."

"Eh?" Sakuragi scratched his neck. That can't be right. "I said, I was kissed. You know. By a BOY. I mean, this is shounen ai stuff ..."

She rolled her eyes. What more could I expect? Typical Sakuragi Hanamichi behavior. "Well, unless the guy didn't have a tongue or something, I see no problem in that," she said dryly, amused at the redhead's naïveté. "I support yaoi." That halted his exclamations abruptly. "Continue."

"Ah! Naruhodo ... anyway ... but don't misunderstand me, I don't like guys in that way! Well, I used to think so, but ... I'm not sure anymore!"

"Ever since that guy kissed you," she supplied. The redhead nodded in assent and went on.

"It was so different when I kissed Smiley, but I don't like Smiley that way, we're just friends and I asked him to kiss me. Then I kissed the other guy to prove that I'm not inclined to him and that I'm straight, but it didn't work out!"

Sakuragi blathered on, oblivious of the fact that Ayako had it figured out already. She had narrowed the suspects down to two, and after a few more sentences, she was positive that she would find out who the mystery guy was. "I think that I'm attracted to him, but that's disgusting because I like girls! And I have a crush on Haruko-san! Or I used to. Or maybe not at all. But I don't want to think about that, it's like admitting that I really like that stupid guy. unI'm not worked up because this is all yaoi; the problem is the guy himself! I mean, of all the people, why him? I like Smiley better, thank you very much. Another thing: he keeps on insisting that I like him, the bastard. Yeah, right! I hate his guts! Why should I like him?! So what if he's cute, gorgeous, actually, sexy, and tempting?! Not to mention that I would be virtually the envy of almost all guys and girls?! I don't care about that bullshit! I like Haruko-san. But now ... And he keeps on hinting that he likes me in that way; why should I believe him? He even says that I like him! Hah! Yeah, right! I hate him! I like Haruko-san! If there's a guy who I'd like, it'll be Smiley, not him! ... Argh, it's so goddamned frustrating!"

He headbutted the wall with full force, and she hoped and prayed that the cement would hold. It did, barely.

"So let me get this straight," she said slowly, when Sakuragi was stable enough. Ayako narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "There's this guy you hate and he kissed you. You went to Sendoh Akira," she shook her head. Sendoh Akira of Ryounan, of all people. Not only an ace all-around player but also branded as the common pervert and biggest flirt of Ryounan, and possibly, the whole prefecture. "And asked him to kiss you, just to see if you like kissing guys, which you don't. But when you wanted to prove this point to the first guy, you actually liked kissing him. And you feel that you don't have a crush on Haruko anymore, because, you think you like the first guy, which you hate, and who kissed you. Oh, and let's not forget the tiny bit, in which you said that you'd rather pick Sendoh than that first guy." She crossed her arms. "Did I get all of it right?"

"Sugoi," Sakuragi was wide-eyed. "That's exactly what the Tensai meant!"

Ayako held her fan in her left hand, tapping her right palm. "Okay. So. Tell me about the kiss." At an afterthought, she added. "Both kisses."

He stopped short of asking why Ayako needed that tidbit of information, remembering her Paper Fan of Doom. "Hn." He blushed beet-red, his face competing with the color of his hair. "Anou ... it was different from Smiley's. Smiley was ... skilled? Yeah, I think so ... Smiley's kiss was great. I remember having a hard time breathing afterwards, about a few minutes after the original lip lock. Anyway, he tasted like lemons, which was nice. But with him ... it was amazing. He was sooooooo incredibly gentle ... and it was sweet ... It turns my knees to jelly, and I feel like swooning or something, but I don't want to because ... well ... I still want to go on kissing him. Do you get what I'm trying to say here?" She nodded, and he flushed deeper. "Truth be told ... It turned — turns — me on."

Ayako grinned. "I don't suppose it would be polite to ask what he tastes like ..." Milk chocolate, I'd bet, she added silently. She cleared her throat. "Anyway. With that reaction, there's no denying that you like him, or, to put it your way, you've got the hots for the guy in that way. And from what I gather, this guy has the hots for you, too. The only problem you have here is that you don't like him that much." Her smile became wider, knowing. "It's Rukawa Kaede, isn't it?"

Sakuragi only gaped. He knew he probably looked like a goldfish, but he was past that.

Score another point for girl intuition.

"Well, you did say that you hate his guts and he's gorgeous. And since you're friends with Sendoh Akira now, it was rather obvious that it's either him or Kiyota Nobunaga of Kainan[2]. But since you added the 'virtually envied by guys and girls' part ... " she shrugged.

The redhead glared at her. "Ayako-san, you don't have to rub it in, you know." He sighed. "Yes, it is him. Rukawa fucking Kaede. Baka kitsune, kono yarou ..." He took a deep breath. "I still hate him, actually, but for different reasons." Sakuragi sighed. "I mean, I hate him for making me feel this way. I hate him for complicating my life. I hate him for ..."

"Life isn't fair," Ayako patted him on the shoulder comfortingly, and he winced sheepishly. She apologized, making a mental note to check the changing room if the locks were still working properly. Her gaze strayed and caught Haruko, who was positively on cloud nine while watching the pale kitsune, who was — surprise, surprise! — sleeping on a bench.

Some things will never change, I guess. She nudged him in the ribs, trying to lighten up his mood. "Ah! Sou yo, ne! That's the reason why he's acting like that!" She laughed evilly. "Mari said that it was because Rukawa fancied Sendoh ..."

"NANI?!"

"Heheheh. I think Rukawa thinks of Sendoh as his rival on- and off-court!" she giggled again. "This is soooooo fun ..."

"Eh? Nan da tto, Ayako-san?"

Ayako finally noticed him. "Ah? Oh." It was her turn to sigh. "Don't you notice that he stares at you sometimes? That he talks when you're around, he talks to you most? Remember when you were first learning lay-ups? And that time when you made that dunk in the Kainan game? And don't you notice that he always draws your attention whenever certain people steals your interest...[3]"

"Smiley, Haruko-san, Nozaru ..." he slowly ticked off the names.

Ayako beamed at him. "Exactly!" She nodded to the sleeping lad's direction. "Well," she said, more to herself than to the redhead. "To think that you know now why he doesn't even notice Haruko ... it's going to be hard, Sakuragi Hanamichi. Especially if you want to continue hating him. Here's a tip for you. I suggest that you just enjoy the attention, ne!" Ayako mirthfully added with a wink.

"Oh," was all he could say after that.

"ASSEMBLE!" Akagi-captain's powerful voice resonated inside the gym. Sakuragi rose, flashing the team manager a grateful smile as he joined his teammates.

"Arigatou, Ayako-san."

Gambatte ne, Sakuragi Hanamichi. There are at least three guys after you. She shook her head admiringly. She had counted eight guys so far. I've got to admit, you do have a good taste, Rukawa, Sendoh, and Kiyota.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amethyst eyes observed the peeved redhead like a bug in a jar. "You've been having the time of your life, aren't you, Hanamichi-kun?"

"What the hell do you mean?" he snapped.

She raised an eyebrow. "You've been smooching. No, let me rephrase that. It's quite ... off. I think it's more proper to say that ... You're constantly getting kissed. Ne?"

"Nan da tto?!" he exclaimed. She smiled sweetly.

"It's really obvious, you know, the way you shape your words, and how your tongue behaves while you're talking and while you're not. Other small signs like that, don't mind them. Okay? Sheesh. Don't be bummed out, Hanamichi-kun, it's not that bad. So. Are you up to fill me in?" the girl, perched on the coffee table nimbly, checked her nails, trying not to make the redhead nervous. She did not succeed in the slightest bit. "I want every itsy-bitsy tiny little detail."

Sakuragi sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes almost sleepily. The girl was Ryuuzuki, his cousin, who had arrived a week and a half ago, and was staying with him for her summer vacation. She was studying in the States, but always makes a point of returning to Japan every year. She was a great cook and a bundle of energy just like her cousin, which were a couple of reasons why Sakuragi like her. The only problem was, caught up as he was in Rukawa's web, he couldn't help but want nobody sharing his space, Ryuuzuki included.

Amethyst eyes bored into his, behind half-rimmed spectacles. "Well? Start speaking, Hanamichi-kun."

The redhead only slumped in the chair, as if trying to hide himself, in reply.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. I may only be fifteen years old, but I'm not daft." She stretched out on a couch facing Sakuragi. "You don't want to talk about it, but you could really use ... no, you need to let it out."

"Leave me alone," he grumbled, pressing a pillow to his face, thus making his words muffled. "I seriously don't need your help."

Ryuuzuki pursed her lips disagreeably. The gaze she trained on the redhead would have shamed Rukawa. "Whatever. Idiot."

"Teme ..."

"Are you picking a fight with me now, Hanamichi-kun?" she asked pointedly, three throwing blades, in the shape of a crescent moon, already poised in each fist. Dismissing the half-concealed weapons seemingly conjured from nowhere, she hardly looked threatening, lying down like that, but a menacing aura had enveloped her; Sakuragi knew better. Ryuuzuki was dangerous with any weapon, because once she gets her hands on one, she will definitely use it.

She won't give up. It's no use. "You don't understand, Ryuuzuki."

She sat up, the blades gone in the blink of an eye, sizing him up with her penetrating slanted eyes silently. Suddenly, she burst out laughing. "You underestimate me, Hanamichi-kun. I'm hurt." Ryuuzuki stood up, drawing to her full 160-centimeter height. Running a hand through her blue-black hair, she pouted. "Mataku ... Yare, yare desu ne."

Sakuragi frowned, befuddled by his cousin's mood swing and peculiar behavior. "It's kind of complicated, Ryuuzuki. So I ..."

"Now, you really are underestimating me. I just hope and pray that it's not on purpose." She shook her head. With light steps, she approached him, placing something on his open palms. A digital video cam. The power forward raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Deep violet eyes glinted. "I know everything, Hanamichi-kun. Everything."

There was a strange emphasis on her words that made the self-proclaimed Tensai quite apprehensive. He stared at the device in his hands. "What the —"

It was the second locker room incident, on playback. Recorded by his naughty cousin, no doubt for just the fun of it. He blushed furiously. Sakuragi almost dropped the video cam, as if it were a glowing coal or a large chunk of ice that was suddenly thrust into his hands. The power forward stared long and hard at his cousin, who was watching him contentedly, amused.

"I shouldn't let my skills ... should I say... disintegrate. I do have my reputation, and I plan to keep it perfectly intact. Better not waste it, my skills, I mean, and put it to good use, like your case, here. Good for practice as any."

He bared his teeth. How dare she! So, his life was now some kind of plaything for her amusement, was it, then? "For your information, dear cousin, stalking is against the law. And I don't need your help."

"Really?" Her tone was soft in askance, gentle, not mocking; so different, yet so alike, from the one Rukawa used, the one he was getting used to. It was clear that she was talking about the second statement. She got the video cam, prying his tense fingers from it. "Then tell me this." Her eyeglasses flashed. "Why are you pretending? Why are you hurting?" Silence. "Why can't you even answer this question, dammit, tell me! If you really don't need help, why are you like this?!"

His brown eyes widened. "What ...? I don't understand ..."

She gave a curt laugh. "That's the truest thing you ever said tonight."

Sakuragi hid his face in his hands. Asking an older person, a friend, is different from asking help from a younger relative. Ego, that infuriating male pride. "Look. I'm sorry for bursting your bubble, Ryuuzuki, but you don't need to entangle yourself in my problem."

"Did you ever try to understand him, Hanamichi-kun?" It was as if she had not heard him speak. "I've done research, as usual. Didn't you ever ...?"

Girls. Why are they so intent about that kitsune and me? "I just want him out of my life, Ryuuzuki. That's all."

"Honestly, Hanamichi-kun," she crossed her arms in front of her chest, leaning on the wall. "I don't see why you like the Akagi girl. I mean ... what's her name again, that girl a year ago? Shimamura? She's cute. She's friendly and nice. But the Akagi girl? I don't think so."

"What does Haruko-san have to do with this?!" The redhead demanded, less violently than anticipated. Huh? Why am I not that angry, even though she just insulted Haruko-san? "She's nice! She's kawaii, too!"

Sending ripples through her cascading ebony locks, Ryuuzuki cocked her head. "Everything, Hanamichi-kun. Think, and for the first time, please don't be biased on this. I'm not saying all this to offend you, or to impugn your taste, mind. What makes her so different that makes you so adamant? The fact that she's as dull as dirt? The other fifty didn't last this long; I've been tracking your progress." She shrugged noncommittally. "After all, as you've said, I am a stalker. Tonikaku, what do you like about her?"

Yes, what? What? I ... I ... "I ... don't know."

"Predictably." Ryuuzuki nodded. "But you are sure of something: You absolutely abhor Rukawa Kaede. Isn't it so?"

Might as well give in. I should feel lucky that she's wasting her time on me. Damn Rukawa Kaede. He's the source of this mess. "Yes." There was a hardened resolution visible in the way he held himself. "It's because ... of Haruko-san. I like her, and it's so unfair that she likes him. I could have let it pass if he liked her back, take Oda and Yoko-san, but he doesn't," he explained in a rush, feeling that his assent needed justification.

She clucked her tongue. "Let me tell you something." Hips swaying, she sat cross-legged in front of her tall, tanned cousin. "Do you remember Akagi's friends? Well, one of them, Fujii, has a crush on you. Other than the fact that you're still ... into ... Akagi, she's really that subtle, but I could tell it in one glance." She smirked smugly, the plain arrogance of the gesture only highlighting her classic features. "She likes you, big time. But you like Akagi, which, of course, she knows. The only one who still doesn't know is the girl itself. On the other hand, everybody knows she's got a thing for Rukawa, no? Of course, the Ice King doesn't like her. I doubt he even knows she exists. Going back to my question." She played with her fingers absently, ignoring the shock she had given the power forward at her revelation. "Could Fujii fault you for not liking her? Could she fault you for liking her best friend? She knows that she pales in comparison to Haruko, in your eyes. Could she fault Haruko for not seeing you, and liking Rukawa? Answer me."

His mouth was set in a firm, tight line. "Why do you ask me these questions? WHY?"

"Here's another example. I really, really like Mitsui Hisashi. We had a two-day fling, during my last year visit, which I think he had forgotten. Anyway, he likes ... surprise, surprise ... Kogure. Yes, and Megane-kun's been crushing on him for a while. In other words, it's a mutual thing. The catch is, this Shoyo player had liked Mitsui since ... whenever. Junior high. That porcupine wannabe." She pursed her lips, then decided it was a trivial matter, knowing that player's name.

"Hasegawa." The redhead supplied mechanically. So Micchy and Megane-kun like each other. Good for them, then. What does it have to do with me?

She waved her hand dismissively. "Whatever. So. This Hasegawa guy could go hate everybody, right? He could hate Mitsui for not liking him back. He could hate Kogure for taking Mitsui away from him. He could hate himself for even liking Mitsui. Hell, he could hate you, for instance, because you can go hug Mitsui any time and get away with it, like duh! Oh, and have I told you that Mitsui said that you look okay, as in okay? So, anyway, forgetting that last statement ... Most importantly ... the Hasegawa fellow could hate Mitsui and/or Kogure ..." she paused relevantly. "Because, he knew in himself that, even if pigs fly or tomorrow's the end of the world, Mitsui wouldn't like him back." Amethyst eyes haunted him, their beauty and knowledge painful, a knife twisting in him. "Even if Kogure wasn't in the picture, Mitsui will never be his, and he knows this. But then, how could he hate Mitsui? Hate and love are separated by a blurred line, after all. So all the resentment and abhorrence would be focused on Kogure."

Is she trying to say ... Ryuuzuki, you must be out of your mind. His thoughts showed on his face.

Ryuuzuki continued. "Kogure is better than him; nice body, nice appearance, perfect personality, sweet, caring, understanding, everything one would want one's lover to be. Hasegawa knows this, and lives with it. He wants to top him, of course ... but what difference does it make when Mitsui won't even care, won't even look at him twice?"

The rather subdued power forward managed a laugh. "What you're suggesting are ridiculous, Ryuuzuki."

"You're affected by all of this." She only smiled sadly, pouting. Ridiculous, yet the truth. "Self-inflicted blindness. You should be aware, Hanamichi-kun. Too much is going on right under your nose that you don't even suspect. Well, I've gathered that Rukawa wanted to go to America."

"Yes, he did, but that was a few weeks back, before you arrived." He sighed. "Seriously, Ryuuzuki, from who do you get all of this info? It's as if you're here since spring."

"I promised not to tell." Amethyst eyes glittered. "Hanamichi-kun, I've only noticed this. Curiously enough, you seem to have soft spots for blue-eyes pips." She waggled her fingers playfully. The redhead raised an eyebrow; she snapped her fingers suddenly. "Damn, I almost forgot! Hanamichi-kun!"

And I thought she couldn't get any madder ...

"Why did you lose at that one-on-one? What really happened?"

A carnal flush of embarrassment and shame crept to Sakuragi cheeks, down to his neck. "I ... uh ..."

"Don't lie to me, Hanamichi-kun."

Damn. Might as well ... "He winked at me."

Ryuuzuki looked anything but startled. She actually seemed eager. "Expound. Go."

"I was with the ball then. The score was two-three, in favor of him. I refused to end the game, so we made it first to five." He paused to wet his lips. "I was going for a dunk, when he bloody winked at me. I was so shocked that he got the ball, cleared it, and it was too late when he shot a long-two." The redhead placed his face in his hands, groaning. "It was one of the most humiliating experiences in my life."

Ryuuzuki nodded sympathetically, but held up a hand when her cousin continued relating the story of what happened after their match, a pout on her lips. "I know that trick already. You're stalling me, aren't you? It won't work. Tonikaku ... Didn't you even think of that linked to this mess? Escape to America because he cannot forego this rabid obsession over you? I heard that Anzai-sensei didn't want him to go ... that could be a reason why he didn't ... but there's no telling for sure that that is the only reason, yes? So, since he couldn't go, he'd settle for having you."

She smiled at him, heartfelt and warm. "See, Hanamichi-kun, Rukawa Kaede isn't the only guy in Kanagawa who's mad about you. You're so blind to it to the point that it's really funny, so I won't spoil the surprise in telling you who they are." Ryuuzui chuckled at the redhead's expression. "Ayako-san told me lots of stuff. That girl has potential. Anyway, according to my research, there seemed to be quite a change over Rukawa that day when he challenge Mitsui to a one-on-one match." She raised an eyebrow at Sakuragi's flaming cheeks. "I believe Kogure was helping you warm up, yes? Then, at the game, he was so brutal to Megane-kun. The loose ball, which ricocheted off because of the fox. Remember that? I think it was your lay-up that he foiled, if I'm not mistaken. Well, for your information, it almost hit Akagi Haruko's head. Too bad Youhei put her out of the line of fire in time." She grinned like crazy. "Seems that bloke is really possessive." Ryuuzuki shook her head. "What an idiot." In a blink of an eye, her demeanor was all knowing, serious business. "Be careful of what you say, especially of what you do, Hanamichi-kun. You'll never know."

The redhead did not know what to make of the words, so he decided to keep quiet. Silence reigned for a while and Sakuragi and his cousin basked in it comfortably, until she broke the calming peace between them.

"Hanamichi-kun." Her eyes seemed to mist over. "There's this guy I hate. I don't exactly recall why, but it probably stemmed from ... his appearance. He has even paler skin than I do, not to mention naturally fuller, more carmine lips." Sakuragi grinned, in spite of himself. Ryuuzuki had always been insufferably haughty and vain, with an ego to match. She giggled. "Listen to me. I'm not making sense anymore, am I?"

"No," he agreed. "You aren't."

"Sou." She stared at a simple wall clock, which informed her that it was already fifty past ten. Ryuuzuki then glanced up at her cousin. "Hanamichi-kun? Have you ever been hugged by someone you love, but doesn't, can't, love you back? Do you know the feeling?"

He remembered, once, Haruko had embraced him with her own volition, after the match against Ryounan. The details were still rendered vividly in his memories. "Yes, I know exactly how it feels." Out of the blue, he recalled several instances the past few days wherein he had wrapped his arms around the silent pervert kitsune. He shuddered.

"Have you ever felt," there was a mysterious tone to her voice. "Strong feelings for someone, even though you know you don't want to? As if you're compelled. As if you just ... have to fall. Have you?"

The redhead stared at his hands, unwilling to open his mouth, afraid of what he might say. Spoken words were often irrevocable.

"Every time I kiss you, it hurts." He flinched as the words left her mouth. It struck something deep inside him, a vague truth, flitting emotions, clear and pure. "Every time you push me away, all I feel is the pain." She stared pensively at the self-proclaimed tensai, waiting ... for what, he had no idea. "Every time it is a stolen moment, nonconsensual, coerced, forced, a rape of sorts." She laid a hand on his knee, which brought his gaze down to her. "Didn't you even think that he might be feeling that way?"

The question was out of his mouth before he could restrain himself. "Why?"

"C'mon, Hanamichi-kun." Ryuuzuki's curved full lips might have brought and heaped shame on Sendoh's best hentai grin. "You're the Tensai, ne? You know the answer. It's in here." She placed a finger on his temple, and at the same time, on his chest. "Oyasumi."

Ryuuzuki nodded, flicked her wrist, and got up, heading for the spare bedroom that served as the guest room. Sakuragi barely noticed.

Something flashed at the corner of his eye. He intercepted it before it hit him smack in the face.

"Oh, and by the way."

It was a laminated photo card. The picture ... the redhead almost choked. It was a guy with pale flawless milk-white porcelain complexion, immaculate slightly untidy black hair, straight eyebrows, full decidedly flushed lips, smooth cheeks, and slanted fox-like eyes. The guy was smiling, laughing almost, at the camera, or maybe, at the photographer, no doubt who that would be.

"Rukawa?" he mouthed. But it was not. The arms were far too lean, the body frame too small. And the eyes. This one has a deep dark brown, almost like his own. Otherwise it could have passed as Rukawa, or maybe, a younger picture of him, a younger brother, perhaps. Sakuragi raised an eyebrow at Ryuuzuki. He had recognized the guy as the one she was pertaining to before. He really did have paler skin and fuller, redder lips than hers.

"You're not the only one misguided, misunderstood." She looked back; the smile was on her face, but it did not reach her shrouded perceiving eyes. "Most definitely, you're not the only one who love someone you hate. Oyasumi nasai."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you totally out of your puny mind?!" Sakuragi hissed as Rukawa pinned him, his back pressed to the wall. They were on the exact same place where Haruko had confided to Sakuragi about her feelings for the pale boy, who was now holding his hands, intertwining their fingers.

Nobody was within a half-kilometer radius that Friday afternoon. There was no practice since they were going to attend two full days of training during the weekend. A lot of students have gone home, either rejoicing, grumbling because of the illegal amount of homework their slave-driver teachers had given them, or not giving a damn. Anyway, crowd or no crowd, Rukawa could not, would not, allow it to hinder his plans, as usual.

"You arse, what the hell do you think you're doing?!" He looked around anxiously as much as he could, given his position. "We're in a public place, baka!"

Cobalt fox-eyes glinted in mischief. "Afraid of getting caught?" He moved closer, licking the shell of the redhead's ear.

"Yamette!"

"You think I'm gorgeous ..." Rukawa sighed in a sing-songy voice. "You think I'm sexy ... You think I'm tempting ..."

"No, I don't!" Sakuragi denied, cheeks flaming. He recognized the words as the very ones he used to describe him to Ayako yesterday.

He continued, delighting in the other's discomfort. His eyes glittered like sapphire, mischievous. "You wanna hug me ... kiss me ... feel me ... do me ..."

"Teme!" Clenched fist raised, eyes narrowed, he appraised the defiant fox, aching to hit him square in the face. It was exactly what the smug bastard deserved, wasn't it? He hesitated; the icy stare did not flicker. Should he do it or no? It seems that Rukawa was challenging him, gauging him, knowing that he lacked the conviction.

Screw the talk I had with Ryuuzuki last night! Teme, why are you tormenting me this way?!

Do it if you can. Do it if you want, his clear eyes told him, taunted him. You know you can. But you don't want to.

"Oh, yes, I will, you stupid fucking bastard!" As he spoke, something stayed his hand.

A sharp intake of breath shattered the perfect scene, the gasp intruding in their space, bringing them from their own world to come crashing back to reality.

"Sakuragi-kun, dame!"

Akagi Haruko rushed forward to prevent the punch, holding onto the tense power forward, staring up at him imploringly with large innocent blue eyes. However, this was not the hue that swayed Sakuragi now. Nevertheless, he can never turn down a damsel in distress. He lowered his arm, if a little reluctant.

Rukawa, for the first time, took notice of her. He noted the gentle touch on the redhead's — his do'ahou, his Hana — arm, stony glare directed to the flushed Haruko, who was bashfully avoiding his eyes.

The kitsune, bowing his head, moved closer to the two of them, eyes unreadable. "Arigatou."

She only turned a deeper shade of crimson. "It was nothing, Rukawa-kun ..." She finally raised her gaze, and the words died at her lips immediately.

The sly fox leant forward so that his forehead was resting upon Sakuragi's, who was rooted to the spot, immobile. He raised an eyebrow, repeated his thanks to the girl, and proceeded on kissing the redhead thoroughly, while she watched.

It took quite a while before Haruko could regain her wits [does she have any to start with?]. Her lower lip trembling, she excused herself for her intrusion and walked away without looking back. Moisture streamed from her eyes, flowing freely, before she could even take a single step.

Only when she was surely gone did Rukawa relinquish his hold on the redhead, only to embrace him, not letting him go. Meanwhile, Sakuragi was, about this time, already extremely infuriated. He at once tried to break away from him, but as he failed, he settled for shaking his head disbelievingly while straining against Rukawa's arms.

"How could you, kitsune?!" he demanded. The redhead Tensai looked torn between pounding the kitsune to pulp and running after his — former — love interest, to explain everything to her.

Rukawa did not lose his calm, nor his poise. "I did what I had to, Hana."

"What the friggin' hell are you talking about?!" Sakuragi raged. "Why don't you tell me, huh?! WHAT THE FRIGGING HELL ARE YOU GODDAMNED TALKING ABOUT?!"

Rukawa remained silent, allowing his stare to speak the meaningful volumes, which his voice failed to convey. The do'ahou was shaking visibly with barely contained fury.

She doesn't love you the way I do, Hana.

"Let me go!" He struggled against him adamantly. However, the kitsune was, if possible, even more stubborn than he was. They were pressed chest-to-chest, close, but not close enough.

"You're going to go after her." The ice that glazed his tone hid his bitterness well. "You want to explain — but what's there to explain?"

Sakuragi only glared at him. "Yarou, hanase ... Kuso ... Teme, kitsune —"

Though unceasing, Rukawa only ignored the redhead's trashing. "What she saw was enough." Darkened honey eyes flashed, daring him to continue. "Why? You'll lie to her?" He pressed. "To deny what she witnessed? To say that you didn't mean it when you kissed me back?"

"You don't understand! Let me go! I hate you!" Tears of frustration had gathered at his eyes as the kitsune continued to speak.

The usually calm voice almost broke at the expression of Sakuragi's face. "You hate me for what I did to the girl. You hate me because I confuse you. You hate me because you can't accept the facts that you don't like the girl as much as you did ... because you never had. You hate me because you lov—"

"Yamero, usots'ki." He beat his fists against Rukawa's firm and well-toned chest. "USOTS'KI! YAMERO! DAMARE! URUSAI! DAIKIRAI, DAIKIRAI, DAIKIRAI, DAIKIRAI, DAIKIRAI, DAIKIRAI!!!" He rested his head on the wall. "Yamero, Rukawa, yamero ..."

Gomen nasai.

"Admit it, Hana. Don't make it harder for both of us. I love you, and you know, deep inside, that you feel the same way for me, too."

He reached out to caress the soft tanned flesh, just inches away, but the self-proclaimed Tensai flinched just as the Ice King was about to make contact. The irresistible brown pools were accusatory as he stared, implored, trying to make him stay. Wanting him to understand.

It seemed as if a great change came over the redhead. The crazed look was gone from his eyes, which now contained a menacing quality. He did not try to escape nor even strove to fight the kitsune off him.

"Not good enough, Rukawa. Save your breath for someone who'll believe you." Voice harsh, he loomed over him, so that their noses were bumping against each other. "Speaking up won't do you any good now, because you did something you shouldn't have."

Sakuragi pressed his lips to his ear. "Don't even think about following me, you bastard." At those words, he pulled away, and ran.

You've really done it this time, Kaede, he thought, overly wearied, as he slumped against the wall, where, a few minutes ago, Sakuragi had been deliciously pressed and pinned. You've really done it this time.

At that thought, he chastised himself. There was no use of getting sentimental; this little blunder had taught him that, bitterly. He had been playing so well; he almost had the gorgeous redhead wrapped around his finger. He shouldn't have pushed his luck. Well, as the saying goes, there's no use crying over spilt milk. He'd just ... go on. Surely, Sakuragi will, more or less, come back ... His efforts were not wasted. After all, wasn't he kissing him back before that girl showed up ...?

However, the truth still remains.

Sakuragi was gone. And there was nothing he could do about it.

He clenched his fist, knuckles becoming white from the exertion.

I'll be waiting, Hana. No matter how long it takes, I'll be waiting.

Oh, to hell with waiting! Screw the game, screw the rules! I hope he comes back to me. He took a deep calming breath. Because without him ... I'm lost ... I'm ...

Damn waiting. I just wish this isn't a mistake that would push him onto the arms of another ... willingly.

His eyes widened as he remembered. Damn Sendoh Akira! I forgot that he was a friend of my do'ahou! Damn that smiling pervert!

A right straight punch dented a metal trash bin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Was what he said true?" Sakuragi demanded, clutching Haruko's picture, looking at it, as if, somehow, it would provide answers to the questions of his frazzled mind. "Was the kitsune right?"

Do I really love him?

Silence.

Tears fell softly on the photograph, sliding off the glossy surface. His eyes fluttered shut, and he rested fully on his back, unable to look at the beaming face of the girl he thought was the love of his life.

I don't feel a thing now except for fraternal concern for you. And guilt. Gomen nasai, Haruko-san. I'm so confused.

This is wrong. I love you, don't I?

Rukawa?

His eyes opened wide, bolting up on his bed. What? What was he thinking? Was he actually even allowing his mind to think of such bull? To toy with an idea like that?

I love you, and you know, deep inside, that you feel the same way for me, too.

I love you.

I love you, you know.

I love you.

Deep inside, you feel the same way for me, too.

I love you.

You feel the same way for me, too.

I love you.

Me, too.

I love you.

"Argh!" He headbutted the wall immediately to clear his head. No avail.

Where was his cousin when he need her? Stupid girl. Ryuuzuki was picked up by her father that afternoon; she would be staying at his hotel for the night, but she promised being there in time to catch basketball practice and watch him.

Why, tonight, of all nights? Why ask her for help, anyway, as if she makes sense. Ch'. That purple-eyed stalker.

He stared again at the picture that he held in his fingers. He scrutinized her delicate features and her cloying innocence. She looked so happy, so warm, so loved. Brown eyes flickered over another picture, this time framed, which was sitting on the top of his dresser. It was a shot of the whole team, their official shot, taken after the match against Miuradai[4]. He scanned the familiar faces fondly. The first years, the second years, along with Anzai-sensei, Ayako-san and ... Sakuragi bit his lip, hard. Trying to ignore his trepidation, he moved on, almost snorting when he saw Gori's face. The farthest on the right-hand side was Ryocchin, while Micchy sat to his right ... He and Rukawa were up in front, with the Tensai smack in the center, with killer looks, literally. Kowai.

"They kept telling me that we should be together," he informed the photo softly, brown eyes narrowed at the pale face. "They kept telling me that I love you. But I hate you, don't I? I hate you!"

He swallowed hard; a lump had formed in his throat.

"It's true. Hontou ni daikirai."

I hate you, Rukawa, for making me feel this way.

I hate you ... for complicating my life.

And I hate you ... He clenched his fist tightly, until he felt blood.

Because you were right all along.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rukawa Kaede ...

Sendoh sighed wistfully.

It's just like our last match ...

Memories flooded his mind as he sat on his windowsill, drowsy, but unable to sleep. Images flashed through his foggy mind.

You were so possessive ...

His lips curved as he remembered, forehead resting on his upraised knee. The redhead had been so adorable, angry as he was, frustrated as he was, irritating as he was, homicidal as he was ...

He was so uptight about Fukuda ... He didn't even notice me. No one did.

Except Rukawa.

Recalling every slimy, vile, and filthy trick the conniving fox did to get Sakuragi's attention for himself, in other words, away from the Smiley Ryounan ace, his eyebrows drew together.

Hah! I remember Hana-kun smiling at me cockily ... I smiled at Rukawa, then, and the shot went in. All thanks to my Hana-kun.

Do you think you'd get his attention by challenging me, or are you just plain irked that he hates you, and all advantages you have being his teammate are wasted? He smirked at the thought, nuzzling his knee.

You may be closer to him physically, but you can't rival the blushes I receive from Hana-kun, who, for your information, is my friend now. I still win, Rukawa.

Eyelids fluttered shut, left shoulder leaning on the glass, inclined back supported by the sill; he woke up with a start when he heard the phone ring.

Mumbling as he rubbed his arm, which had banged against the window painfully, he scratched his neck, picking the receiver up, wondering who the hell would call him in the middle of the night.

"Sendoh Akira speaking," the spiky-haired boy answered sleepily. He blinked repeatedly, trying to stifle a yawn. "Moshi-moshi?"

"Smiley."

He recognized the voice at once. "Hana-kun?"

Sakuragi sighed. "Gomen for bothering you so late, Akira." Sendoh glanced at the digital clock beside the phone; it read 1:10. "But I was wondering if I can come over ...?"

He sounds so tired, he noted with anxiety. I wonder what happened. And ... he frowned. Hana-kun had never called me Akira before, even when I forced him to. This is bad.

"Sure, Hana-kun."

Sendoh could almost feel Sakuragi's relief. "Arigatou, Akira."

Approximately two minutes after he hung the phone up, there was a series of knocking on the front door.

"Hana-kun?" he inquired rather incredulously as he opened the door, unaware that he was clad in nothing but his yellow Smiley boxers. Shohoku and Ryounan were not exactly near. It takes about ten to fifteen minutes to cover the distance with a bus at light to moderate traffic conditions.

"Oi. Akira."

The sight the redhead presented shocked Sendoh, to say the least. He had seen Sakuragi bruised, battered, joyful, hyper, moody, angry, the works. But he looked ... utterly devastated. Like ... like ... he'd better not think it.

He was so stunned that he gaped for a few minutes before actually inviting him inside.

"Ah! Sumimasen! Dozo, dozo."

He ushered the other boy in the house, trying to make him as comfortable as possible. Sakuragi plopped down on the sofa, lost in his own thoughts. Sendoh sat down next to him, placing something on his hands. He stared at it dumbly, faintly annoyed with its presence.

"I always keep a big stock of Kleenex at my house, Hana-kun," he said a while after the redhead just continued looking at the tissue. "You know, Hiro-kun always comes by and he watches movies with me here. He particularly likes sap and he cries almost every time, so ... tonikaku, my parents are at Kyushu right now. They have a group outing stuff. My cousin who stays with us is sleeping over at her friend's place, so I have the house to myself." He smiled. "If you want, you can stay." He stood up. "You want anything besides a glass of water, Hana-kun?"

A flicker of life in the listless brown eyes as he shook his head slowly. "Arigatou, Akira."

The Ryounan ace nodded sympathetically. "I won't mind if you'd like to shower. You're free to borrow any article of clothing from me. But," he winked mischievously, to lighten up the mood. "If you're borrowing a thong, you'd have to display it for me."

Without a word, the redhead stood up and headed to the bathroom.

Oh, man. This is worse than I thought ... Sendoh fell into step beside him, worried like hell. "Hana-kun."

He flashed him a smile, but it looked faked. So wrong to see Sakuragi like that. "I'm okay, Smiley. Really."

"Demo ..."

"I would like to be alone now, if you don't mind," he added quietly, touching the hand that rested on his shoulder. "Onegai, Akira. Just ... try to tolerate me."

It killed him to see Sakuragi's expression at that moment. "If that's what you want, Hana-kun." He ruffled what he could of the short red hair. "I'll be waiting outside the shower." He smiled warmly, concerned. "Don't be too long, ne, Hana-kun? I'll miss you." With a parting congenial jab at the shoulder, he left.

What is wrong with me?! Sakuragi raged at himself, intoxicated by the warm water jetting from the shower. He held the shampoo bottle in one hand; through the haze of tears, he noticed that he was squeezing the plastic container in a death grip. Why?! Why am I acting this way?!

He stood still, the water washing the remaining shampoo from his hair. He reached for the soap, worked up a lather, and proceeded in rubbing it all over his body, cleansing with it.

Guilt.

Why didn't I stop him? Why did I just let her walk away? I could have done something. Must. Should. But I didn't.

Why? Why? WHY?!

"Hana-kun!"

Sendoh entered the shower, to be greeted with the sight of his dear friend kneeling on the bathroom floor, tears streaking his sorrowful face, oblivious of everything. "Hana-kun!" Panic laced his voice.

Akira. Sakuragi recalled, faintly, of the spiky-haired boy. What is it? Why are you shouting?

Heart thumping madly in his chest, he reached out for Sakuragi, and was startled that he was looking at him. Azure eyes consumed with anxiety met dull, lifeless brown.

What's happening? Sendoh thought, trying to swallow, to regain his control, glance darting from a place to another. Oh, Hana-kun ...

"Hana-kun!"

You're so worried ... Smiley ...

He roughly shook himself out of his hysteria, taking action. The Ryounan ace led Sakuragi to his room, bringing with him a couple of towels.

"Don't worry, Hana-kun, I'll take care of you ..."

Smiley ... Akira ... what's happening? Why are you so sad ...?

It's so warm here ... in your arms ... you'll help me, won't you?

Sendoh held a towel in his hands; he was drying his friend with it. They were in his room now. Safe. In Smiley's arms. A small smile curved the redhead's lips.

"I was so worried ..." the continuous flow of words from the Ryounan player soothed Sakuragi immensely. "You were taking such a long time inside and I thought ... oh, Hana-kun, I'm so glad ... but ... onegai, tell me, what happened? Why are you crying? Hana-kun, you can tell me anything and ..."

The redhead clutched Sendoh for dear life, sobbing softly as he did. "Akira ... Akira ..."

Gasping as intelligible words finally came from the redhead after the shower, he hugged Sakuragi, reassuringly, patting him in a rhythmic circular movement of his hands, letting him know that he would not leave him. "Tell me what's wrong, Hana-kun. Onegai ... don't burden yourself. Let it all out ..."

Sakuragi continued hugging Sendoh, bodies pressed together, naked against barely clothed.

"Tasukette ... Akira ..."

Soft, resilient lips covered his shocked, parted ones as the Shohoku Tensai kissed him passionately.

I must be dreaming ... Sendoh thought, drunken in the heady feeling and taste of Sakuragi's lips again. This cannot be happening.

Mouth needy, wanting, Sakuragi deepened the kiss. His hands began to wander in their own accord, tugging insistently at the light bedclothes the other wore, and Sendoh let this intimacy, reveling in it, heady with desire, basking in the radiant light that seemed to emanate from the Shohoku player.

When the redhead finally pulled back, his eyes were glazed in the dark honey of muted desire and insatiable fire. The Ryounan ace felt goosebumps break over his flesh as that stare was focused on him, that the obliterating passions were directed to him. Die of envy, Rukawa!

"Hana-kun, I ..."

The deep voice was hoarse from his earlier actions. "Onegai, don't leave me, Akira. Onegai. Onegai ..."

Long and agile fingers silenced him, soothed him, comforted him, as the dark-haired point guard led him to the warm bed. Sakuragi lay cushioned on the well-chiseled chest, incessantly reassured by the firm toned arms wrapped around his bare waist. The familiar scent of his friend washed over him, filling the bemused redhead with fuzzy feelings, which he couldn't quite discern. "Shhh, baby, don't worry, I won't leave, I'll stay here with you ..."

The self-proclaimed tensai rocked himself, fingers slowly relinquishing their grip on his triceps. He was awake, but his eyes were closed, remembering.

"Akira," he breathed. "Tasukette ..."

Refusing to let panic overcome him yet again, the distraught Sendoh pushed back his black hair. "Doush'ta na, Hana-kun?"

There was an almost schizophrenic quality in Sakuragi's voice, trembling with misery, when he spoke. "What if he was right? What if they were right?"

The Ryounan ace kept his composure, whispering relaxing reassurances at the redhead's ear, waiting for him to continue at his own pace.

"They keep telling me that I love him, Akira. Him. What if it were true?" The brown eyes opened, wide, glazed, crazed in the candlelight. He suddenly had the urge to shush the blabbering, but it was too late. "What if I do love Rukawa Kaede?"

"Rukawa?!" Sendoh whispered back fiercely, blue eyes aflame with unrestrained jealousy and fury. "Did you say Rukawa, Hana-kun?"

It seemed as if the power forward didn't hear him at all. "They keep on telling me that we were right for each other. That we love each other. I kept telling them to stop joking." Each word was a like a stake driven through the azure-eyed youth, teeming with barely repressed anguish he would not show. "But, Akira, what if they were right?"

It was hard to make his voice smooth. "Maybe you heard it too much, but you really don't feel that way ..."

The redhead's laugh sounded too hollow. "That's what I reason, but it's not enough, you know? Maybe I do love him ..."

"Yamette." The firm command had Sakuragi quiet, blinking up at the intense azure stare. Sendoh pressed a thumb to the redhead's unmoving lips; he shifted their positions, so that he now perched on top of his towel-clothed guest. "Yamette."

"Akira, what ...?"

He was silenced by the assault of ardent kisses, surprised at the tears that were slowly dripping down on his cheeks. He did not remain unresponsive, though continuing to be befuddled, he exerted a push on the warm chest pressing on him, bringing a halt to their previous activity.

Smiley? What are you doing? Why ...?

"What about me, Hana?" The husky voice was choked with tears; a veil of sweat gave the pale skin an almost luminescent sheen in the moonlight. "Forget about Rukawa. What about me?"

Another flash of the glinting mirror on the side; Sendoh looked frighteningly like Rukawa for a few moments. The candles gave the flaming eyes a burnished glow. "What about me?" he asked again, brokenly.

"You make it real." A flicker of courage flared in him as he heard Sakuragi speak. "You make me real."

The redhead slowly stood up, a hand on the Ryounan ace's quivering shoulder. Kneeling up, Sendoh stared at the brown pools of light, compassionate and empathetic.

"Could I stay with you tonight?"

A hesitant grin broke out of his face, though his face was still streaked by tears. "Dachi nan darou, ne, Hana-kun?"

"Un." The power forward nodded. "Hold me ... just ... hold me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oi, baka kitsune. Wait for me at the locker room after practice. I want to talk to you about something. I have a point to prove. If you don't show up, I'll beat the crap out of you!

The note wasn't signed, but it didn't take a genius to figure out who sent it to him. The handwriting might be rather misleading, even and neat, but ... Rukawa raised the paper to his nose, sniffing it discreetly and elegantly. The slight masculine scent and the sakura blossom enclosed gave him no doubt.

He had remained calm and composed all throughout the span of time that he did not manage to see the redhead. There was the disconcerting fact that Sakuragi was seen leaving Sendoh's house early in the morning, true, but he wasn't daunted. After all, he had a note, didn't he?

But what if he's going to talk about him and the ahou?

He quickly banished the thought from his mind as he slipped in the changing room.

"I'm here, do'ahou." There was no answered. Annoyed, he was about to go, when he noticed his surroundings. His ears prickled; he narrowed his eyes beneath the ebony fringe.

As far as he could see, though, he was the only one occupying the room, until he heard the water. The shower.

It was very steamy and humid, which meant that whoever was there, he was having a warm shower. The thought appealed to the silent kitsune, especially when he thought of who most probably was the one showering at that instant.

"Oi, kitsune, come here, I have to talk to you." The voice was the confirmation of his doubts. It was Sakuragi Hanamichi who spoke from behind the curtain.

Rukawa's heart quickened; he licked his lips wickedly, and he stepped in the cubicle. He had discarded his slacks, shoes, and socks beforehand. Warm sudsy water lapped at his bare feet.

The redhead turned to face him, stepping beneath the steady spray of water. "Oi, kitsune."

The Ice King drew up a hand unconsciously to bite at the side of his index finger at the exquisite sight Sakuragi presented. True to the shower etiquette, he was naked, and only the soaps lather adorned his tanned musculature. He demurely raised an eyebrow; the voyeur in him was definitely enjoying the show.

The cascading water washed the soap away, and he was, yet again, lathering his body with his foamy hands. He indicated his body with a small undulating movement that nearly undid the usually stoic kitsune. "Nothing you haven't seen yet, kitsune. I've talked to Haruko-san ... and she's cool with everything."

The small forward nodded, sincerely glad that the do'ahou was with good terms with the Captain's captain, even if he did had a crush on her. Had. He smirked to himself. "And?"

He shrugged, a playful glint in the shiny brown eyes, full of mischief. "I have a point to make."

"So make it." His heart galloped in his chest, and even the deep breaths he took did not help.

Hurry up, do'ahou, he raved silently in the confines of his mind. The hormones ... the hormones are screaming 'INDULGE'!

Sapphire eyes followed the trail of tanned fingers, down a bicep, up a pectoral, around the belly, past the navel ...

"They keep telling me that we're the ones who should be together, and I think I'm starting to believe it."

Rukawa nodded, but it was more of clearing his foggy mind of the questionable scenes that ran rampant through it. "So?"

"So," Sakuragi drawled, tilting his head so that the water can wash the suds accumulated by his neck. "How about giving us a try?"

"And the point is?" the kitsune asked, eyebrows raised primly, even as he discarded the rest of his clothing, preparing himself for a shower with the alluring redhead that was oh-so-sweetly seducing him with his actions.

"I want to see if, with believing, it could become true." A cocky grin broke through Sakuragi's slightly challenging visage. "Oh, and that Smiley said, 'Omedetou.'"

The kitsune did not say anything for a while. A minute later, though, he shook his head exasperatedly. "Do'ahou."

"Nan da tto?!" The words were merely shaped by the familiarity. New meanings coated the once-acrid insults, now. "Teme ..."

The Ice King moved stealthily towards the redhead, like so many times before, and there was a triumphant glimmer in his sapphire eyes. "Do'ahou. Stop the bull and just kiss me, already."

The water still continued to flow, even as Ryuuzuki finished filming the first two hours.
~~~~~~~OWARI~~~~~~~
Rhygell: Waaah! My ass, my ass, my ass, my ass, MY ASS!
Sendoh: [panicky] What?! Your ass! AAAAHHH! Your ass! What happened?!
Rhygell: ITAI!!!
Sakuragi: [pokes the aforementioned body part with his toe] Well, it does look sore ...
Rhygell: ITAI!!! What the hell did you poke me for, Hana-kun?!
Sendoh: [frantic] Don't worry, Rhygell-san, I'll save you! [fans the sore body part vigorously while holding an ice pack over it, trying to stay calm] Now, why don't you just lie down on your stomach so you won't put any more pressure on it ...
Mitsui: [thoroughly confused] What the friggin' hell ...?!
Rhygell: [lying face-down, looking up to see Mitsui staring at the peculiar scene before him] AAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH! Oi, Micchan, heiki, heiki! I had been sitting down in front of the computer for nine hours straight! ITAI!!! Akira-kun, be careful!
Mitsui: [sweatdrop]
Rhygell: Hanagata-san, tasukette!!!

---

Rhygell: Oh, yuck, this sucks, big time!!!
Hanagata: [pats Rhygell] That's just okay ...
Rhygell: [back to hyper mode] I'd just like to make this clear, okay? Sendoh's single here, in spite of all the SenKosh hints. But I'd hand him over to Koshino sooner or later, or maybe ... [shrug]
Sendoh: [offended] I'm not to be handed over to anyone, thank you very much.
Rhygell: [sweatdrop] And you're not usually that bitchy, either, Akira-kun. And remember, your kissing scenes and all your lime-hinted scenes are all very graphic!
Sendoh: Waah, Rhygell-chan, daisuki! [thoughtful] Na, you're right. Hiro-kun is always angry at me, though ... in your fics, that is ... ne ... can't I have Hana-kun, instead? Joking!
Koshino: BAKA! [hits Sendoh] BAKA! Baka! Baka! Baka! Baka!
Sendoh: [shielding himself] See? Gomen ne, Hiro-kun! Hey, take it easy, that hurt!
Koshino: BAKA! [hits Sendoh, then spontaneously combusts] BAKA!
Rukawa: [appearing out of nowhere to strangle Rhygell, shoving Sendoh aside rudely] You ... you ... [can't think of the proper word] you! [shakes Rhygell like a rag doll] This is an almost NC, almost R! Almost! Where is my well-earned NC?!
Rhygell: [undaunted] My, my. Talk about bitchy. Since when did I owe you an NC? [shrugs, grabs a conveniently-appearing Sakuragi and shoves Rukawa to him] Here. Have fun, just tune it down and don't wake the friggin' neighbors, na? [turns away to face the computer to fix the problem about Koshino. Rukawa seems to forget whatever he had been bitchin' about a few moments ago.] Oh, yeah, before I forget. Akira-kun?
Sendoh: [blinks, turns to Rhygell] Nani?
Rhygell: Remember, during the Kainan-Shohoku game? You were up in the bleachers with your teammates and I was just wondering, really. I didn't see your hands. Could you clear that up for me?
Sendoh: [raises an eyebrow provocatively] Are you sure you want to know, Rhygell-chan?
Rhygell: Ah. [pouts] Now I don't have to speculate further, hmmm? [goes back to work on the PC] I had my suspicions about it, but I didn't wholly believe that you can *ahem* execute such an ... activity ... in public.
[In the background, the Aida siblings take notes.] Carry on, then, don't let me hinder you ...
Sendoh: [Billion Megawatt Smile with Lemon] Waah, Hana-kun! [glomp]
Rukawa: [possessive mode] He's mine. Hentai ahou. [kick]
Sakuragi: Oi! Smiley, kitsune, let go of me! Hanase, mou yamero!
[screaming his lungs out] Rhygell-chan, tasukette!!!
Rhygell: What the ...? [sweatdrops, smiles at the SenHanaRu scene, then readies the video cam] Yare yare. [takes out notebook and pencil] Yo cheku ya! [scribbles new ideas while filming, then suddenly stands, toppling the camera] Ne, Ruru. Remember the date today? [laughs nervously]
Rukawa: [eyes glinting, stands up] You ...
Rhygell: [flashing a peace sign] It seems that I do owe you an NC. Happy RuHana day!
Rukawa: [stops himself from strangling to poor author] Christmas.
Rhygell: [nods] Fine. [sticks out tongue] I'm not afraid of you! Kill me and you won't get an NC! [tensai laugh]
A/N:

Ne, ne! Remember the banner that Hotta and his minions have? Well, I got the spelling there of Mitsui's nickname. *lol* Thought you ought to know ...
*wince* I made Rukawa speak too much ... well, it's obvious in the series that (translated to English or not) the Kitsune exceeds his normal 10-word limit criticizing Hana, or whatever even remotely connected to Hana. Ne? *yawn*

[1] Why iced water? Because he wouldn't be able to taste the pie if his drink was lemon-flavored, too. Oh, yeah. It's not so obvious that I kind of have a thing with Akira-kun's lemon obsession. Not really.

[2] Who did Sakuragi hate [male] along the series other than the aforementioned kitsune and nozaru? There's Fuku-chan. And Oda. Sendoh's his friend now ... and the others (actually, Kiyota is included here) namely Koshino, Uozumi, Taoka-sensei ... they're just bickering with Hana, nothing else. Actually, my cousin called it 'trash-talking' ... He's pertaining to the state of being of Sakuragi with Rukawa, and of Sakuragi with Kiyota/Sendoh/Maki. I wholeheartedly agree.

[3] Hey, these claims are supported! [SPOILER ALERT!]
In a certain episode [Shomin no shuto wa muzukashii], after Hana apologized, Kitsune did want to teach him how to lay-up. He was sincere, mind you. Just remember him after his first meeting with Hana, after Hana's game with Gori ... {"You're good, Sakuragi Hanamichi."}
In another [Last 10 seconds ...], remember these lines? "Swish it!" "Maa ... it wasn't anything special." How come that stupid kitsune had enough energy/motivation to stand up and *ahem* cheer for the Tensai? I thought he was so drained ... And the twinkle of Anzai's glasses afterwards ... Not to mention that Sendoh almost stood up himself. *LoL* And their fight afterwards, with Hana blaming himself. Does he have to pose there, in the dark, deliberately ogling Hana before turning on the lights before going, "Do'ahou"?!
The distraction thing is blatant enough. Notice that when Haruko and Sakuragi are talking and getting close, all that, Rukawa suddenly dunks or something, thus successfully gaining Sakuragi's (and Haruko's) attention. I mean, if it doesn't mean anything, or maybe it's Haruko he likes, he doesn't have to do the extra stuff, like glaring at Sendoh, while the guy is 'innocently' looking at Sakuragi, right? And why can't he run over anyone else, for example, other freshmen, with that stupid pink bike of his?! Must be affiliated to Hana's butt.
Hey, you've got to admit, even Anzai-sensei's a bit ... well, indulging in all of this. I mean, that episode when made the two of them touch? (Ru was vigorously rubbing the wrong spot off his hand, while Hana was shaking his hand like mad) And, as my Redeemed Muse pointed out, he looks so happy about the two freshmen. It mainly is because of basketball, true ... but who knows? *meaningful wink*
Another point. When Sendoh turns to Shohoku, the first person he sees is either an oblivious/infuriated/elated Sakuragi, or a glaring Rukawa, then shifts to the former. Weird. When Rukawa glares, it's because he's REALLY pissed. I mean, he can look at, let's say, Miyagi, Ayako, Akagi, or Mitsui, normally, right?
And one time [Honryou hakki! Ouja Kainan], Hana suddenly shouts to Kiyota to beat Ryounan up, and walks out (Sendoh smiles while watching Sakuragi, almost forgetting to guard Maki properly, who, I daresay, is rather distracted enough because of Hana and Smiley *lol*). After Kiyota shoots that inspired-by-Hana dunk, Rukawa curses, "Kiyota, baka yarou" and he leaves as well. Of all people to curse, why the guy who had been talking to Hana? I mean, hello ... And why are they sitting next to each other, in the first place? I thought they were enemies ... {further note on that episode: Ryocchin and Micchy also went after Rukawa. Maybe, as manager and vice-captain, they have enough credibility to want them to stay. But Aya-chan calling after Ryocchin and Megane-kun trying to prevent Micchy from going? Hmmm ... it smells fishy. Like the offhand comment by one of the Shoyo players, (Takano, Ito, or Nagano) about Fujima not wanting to watch the Kainan-Ryounan game because Maki was there. *snort* That thing is, of course, further spiced by one tiny scene where Fujima is analyzing Maki's play. Hasegawa, with a constipated look on his face, is glancing at Hanagata, whose glasses had clouded up and was frowning a wee bit. *lol* And ... +Rhygell gets beaten by Muse-san.+ 'Moving on ...!'}

[4] I'm not really sure. I mean, I think that picture is the most circulated, most popular pic of all Slam Dunk pics, so you probably know what it looks like. I'm just trying to stitch some history and memories in the pic for Hana. Anyway, Sakuragi's hairstyle is not the monk-thing, so I assumed it was before their loss to Kainan. (*shrug, shrug*)
Last. I'm not trying to diss or convert anyone's beliefs. I'm just stating my opinion [except from some of the excerpts from the anime, which are obvious enough.] It's a free world, right?
To tell the truth, I'm a hardcore SenHanaRu shipper (I think that's obvious enough), meaning I support SenHana, RuHana and vice versa. Oh, and don't get me wrong, I also support SenKosh. *LoL* So please bear with me. I'm demented, you know.