(Chapter 9: Alas for Rukawa!)

"I really thank you for the offer, but I really am not singing material." Kira repeated as she struggled into her coat while Mr. Ketsui coaxed and wheedled in a whiny voice beside her.

"I'll have the boss increase the pay, no-triple the pay! And you won't even have to work every day, just…once or twice a week!" He pleaded. Because though Kira didn't know it, many of their customers had already came up to the manager and requesting her artistry for certain evenings. Two especially wealthy clients who also had dance clubs of their own had even had a mind to transfer her for their own business, for they recognized a pretty face and an admirable expertise when they see one, and they acknowledged that Rukiko Kira, a first year at Shohoku High, could be just the thing to raise up their customers and business.

Gathering her purse and saying one last, firm good-bye to Mr. Ketsui, Kira stepped out of the club, and wrinkled her nose after realizing it was raining lightly.

Having no umbrella, Kira could only give a soft sigh and began her walk home. On the way, she hummed the song and blushed femininely at the moments when she and Rukawa's eyes met. With her heart filled with girlish thoughts and dreams, her mind never once went to her dear friend, who was lying that minute in the dark alley, wet, hurt, unable to move, and utterly alone.

That was, until she just barely walked past the lump without realizing the muddy, bloody bundle was the handsome, comely, legendary basketball player Rukawa Kaede.

With her mind still filled with delicate fantasies, Kira smiled to herself as she ventured down the quiet alley. The rain was coming down a bit harder now, but she didn't feel it.

"Kira…"

Her name was spoken so softly that Kira paused only a split second, then deciding the wind was playing tricks with her ears, she continued on her way. But it came again.

"Kira…" This time a painful groan followed the faint whisper. Kira stopped. And this time, if she still had any doubts about somebody calling her name, a hand that closed around her ankle changed her mind in an instant.

Screaming like any girl would have done, she swung her purse at the first moving figure she saw under her—which happened to be…Rukawa.

The basketball player groaned and pulled back his hand, complaining weakly in a commanding tone, "Stop that racket, Kira. It's only me. You're making my head ache more with all that screaming you're doing."

"Rukawa?" Kira whispered, dropping onto her knees, then gasping at the horror that displayed in front of her eyes. "My God, what happened to you?!"

He tried to smile, but looked more like a grimace. And the trickle of blood running down his temple didn't help lightening their atmosphere. He tried to stand, but a gush of warm wetness and a surge of pain made him groan and slid back against the wall. He heard Kira give a terrified cry and knew that she had saw the large bloodstain that soiled the front of his shirt due to the deep, long cut made across his abdomen.

He noted that his breathing had grown much more laborious as he slumped at her feet, panting with fatigue with his eyes were almost closed, and his fine, strict features were distorted with every minute of pain.

"I'm fine." He looked up at her, looking a little drowsy. He smiled a smile that touched Kira almost as much as his next words did. "I liked your song, Kira."

"Oh, keep quiet." She ordered as she brushed back the raven locks of his hair and winced at the painful-looking gash on his temple. "You're going to have to go to a hospital, but we've got to stop the bleeding first."

Through his sluggish state, due to the loss of blood, Rukawa could see Kira taking off her heavy overcoat, then undoing the knot of the expensive blouse. Through his dream-like state, he thought he heard his own voice saying,

"No, I really did like your song. It gave me a nice, warm feeling. Like when Mother or Dad were with me." His husky voice was warm and almost intimate.

"Oh?" A loud rip was heard as Kira tore up her blouse into strips with unhesitant hands. Without a second thought to destroying the lovely item, Kira slowly reached over and dabbed Rukawa's forehead as he slumped against the wall.

Next, she lifted his shirt until she came face to face with the ugly wound gash and with her fingertip, gently cleaned around the wound to keep it from being infected. He jerked back at her contact, but with soothing words, Kira cajoled until the young man yielded.

Binding his head and midsection with several clean, dry strips, she covered him with he own jacket and helped him stand up, though it proved to be difficult. How did they ever managed to get home, Rukawa never knew. All he knew was that the next thing he knew, he was back home, in his own bed, with Kira beside him softly singing a pleasant lullaby.

She dabbed his forehead with cool water as she sat by the side of his bed. Murmuring a soft lullaby, she took another look at the wound on Rukawa's tummy. The doctor had bandaged it up while Rukawa was half insane, half unconscious. She doubted that he would remember it after he's awoken.

The gush had been hideous, and Kira was positive she almost fainted when she saw it. It wasn't deep, but it was long and wide and doubtlessly very painful. The doctor had assured her that it wasn't life threatening, however, it would be very important to keep him in bed until the gash fully closes. An infection would also be deadly.

"Rest now, Rukawa. I'll take care of everything." She whispered as she turned off the lights and got up from the bed, preparing to leave.

Suddenly, Rukawa's hand shot from underneath the blanket grasped her hand. As she looked down, startled, she saw that Rukawa's wasn't asleep, in fact the eyes she faced were very serious

"Did you meant what you sang?" His voice was sluggish, and Kira relaxed a little. Covering his hand with her own, she leaned down, kissed Rukawa's hand, and whispered,

"Yes. Yes, I did. And I will love you, forever…"

It was hard for the doctor or anyone else to keep someone as stubborn and resolute as Rukawa in bed, especially if the patient refused to cooperate. It took everything Kira's got, from threats to bribes, to keep him in bed. His classical music was no longer a comfort to him and touching a basketball was his only desire, but it was to be remain ungranted, for Nurse Kira refused to allow the gash to reopen. Often, passerby would hear this common argument outside the Rukawa mansion, and it was not to be the last time.

"Rukawa! What are you doing out of bed?" The sound of objects dropping as she hurried toward him.

"I'm fine."

"Get back in bed, now!" A scuffling would be heard, and would eventually be won by Rukawa holding Kira back with one hand. Then the female voice would threaten shrilly,

"If you don't get back to bed now, I'll make sure all the basketballs and jerseys you've got goes into the trash—"

"I'll pick them back out."

"—in my house, and I'll get police and firemen and…and the whole basketball team to tie you down to the bed to do whatever I tell you to do until you scream!"

"Won't happen."

"Rukawa…" The coaxing begins. "Your wound hasn't healed, you don't want to reopen it again, do you? Now be a good boy and get back into your bed, and be careful, don't open that ugly thing again."

"It's not ugly." Rustle of shirt and a shriek.

"Put your shirt back down and get back in bed!" The nurse finally ordered with fire in her eyes. A hard shove would be heard and a emotionless complaint,

"Ow."

"Now, stay there!"

At that point, the feminine footsteps would stomp out of his room and on the street where nobody could see, a tiny smile would appear on the troublemaker's face as he remarks,

"She's so cute when she gets mad." And the promise of making her even angrier the next day would follow.

The time for changing the bandage was the worst time for both of them. It was a slow, painstaking task that Rukawa hated, Kira loathed it, but both knew was very necessary.

"Don't move, Rukawa." Kira took her seat beside the bed as she spoke, and looked up with such a sad, pleading look in her eyes that Rukawa gave in—and gave up—at once. He braced himself, gritted his teeth, and held a calm, bored expression on his face.

The first feel of the bandage being pulled away brought beads of sweat onto his forehead.

"Hold still now." Kira coaxed as she cut away the bandage. He was about to give a painful groan, when his eye fell on a sight which made him swallow the groan, and cough instead, as if it choked him a little. The sight was Kira's face, as she sat in a low chair, slowly, and looking almost as pained as he felt, cutting away the awful bandage. As he looked, Rukawa remembered how steadily and tenderly she had stood by him all through the hard times just past, and how carefully she had bathed and dressed his wound each day in spite of the effort it cost her to give him pain or even see him suffer.

That's courage on her part, the youth thought, as he saw that gentle face so pale and tired with much watching and anxiety, yet so patient, serene, and cheerful, that it was like sunshine. She feels worse than I do. Thinking that thought, Rukawa gritted his teeth until his whole body was shaking and screaming from pressure.

At first, Rukawa was skeptical about another person bustling around his house, occupied by only himself ever since he was six. He didn't care much for Kira keeping his house in order, but he soon missed her if she did not come. He found that something pleasant and fresh seemed to brighten his day when Kira stepped into his house in her school uniform, with intelligent face and merry voice, and immediately rolled her sleeves to wait upon him. But one of the sweeter things about pain and sorrow was that it showed Rukawa how he was loved, how much kindness there was in the world, and how easily he could make others happy in the same way when they need help of sympathy.

Poor Rukawa had been so busy with basketball that he did not find out what he was missing all these years. Now that he was trapped in bed with a deadly wound, he began to notice something was missing about his life. And Kira was unconsciously showing him what it was, and making his home so warm and sweet that he felt he could not do without her anymore.

The house that seemed so homelike seemed all of a sudden like a prison without another person's movements inside the house. She cooked, she cleaned, she polished the silver, wiped the tables, dusted the trinkets, fed Buster, and watered flowers, all done cheerfully. Rukawa would smile to himself sometimes, hearing a cheerful little voice singing to herself while scrubbing the floor or stirring something in the pot.

However, Kira didn't think she had done much besides the little things that were always waiting to be done. When rainy days come so often, where spirits get out of tune, and duty won't go hand in hand with pleasure. Little things of this sort are especially good work for young people, a kind thought, an unselfish act, a cheery little word, are so sweet and comforting to Rukawa that no on can fail to feel their beauty and love the giver, no matter how away they are. Kira did a great deal of these things, unseen and unthanked, but the basketball player felt and remember long afterwards, and never lost, for this is the simple magic that binds hearts together and kept them happy. Kira had learned this little secret and she loved to do little things that other did not see, or were too busy to notice, and while doing them, without a thought of thanks, she made sunshine for herself as well as others. There was so much warmth in her own home that she quickly felt the want of it in Rukawa's, and made it so.

But many of the days passed hard, for Kira must leave Rukawa to go to school, leaving Char to keep a close eye on the difficult young man. Many days, she would return to a peevish and hard to please Rukawa. Sometimes he growled because of being kept in bed by a bossy husky/wolf mix. Through all these trials, Kira persevered, using all her little arts of please him. When he fretted, she was patient, when he growled, she ploughed bravely tough, even though a little sad sigh was uttered now and then.

It was the piano that helped them through this difficult period of time. For when Rukawa was tired or disagreeable, only music played from Kira's fingers would sooth his cross spirit.

Piece after piece she would play, until it was well over dusk and Rukawa's behaviors changed from a lion to a lamb. Then would he have his dinner and allow her to go home and keep her own house in order.

Though many times had he pushed her away in a boy's fashion, many a night would Rukawa lie in bed and wonder about the girl that came into his life like a shooting star. How they seemed like a pair together! She fitted into his life as perfect as a piece of puzzle, or a key to its lock. Like siblings, she nurtured him in the way only a sister can, and he protected her with more fierce and fire than used to protect a sweetheart, but rather his own blood.

More than often would Rukawa wonder what he would have done if Kira had not appeared in his life.