Chapter Five

Remember what she said. Take a deep breath and listen to the beat…one and-two, three and-four…follow the beat…first bar introduction, second bar start!

Hanamichi plunged forward and stepped on Ruiya's toes.

Oops. Wrong foot.

The murderous glare directed at him was almost enough to make him afraid, had it not been for the other, sudden, stronger urge…

To just sit down and giggle at the expression on Ruiya's face.

She's actually kind of pretty.

He cleared his throat. "Um, I'm sorry."

"Just…follow my lead for now," came the clipped reply.

Still fighting the inane desire to laugh, he straightened and set the position, trying to relax as Ruiya had instructed. She eyed him suspiciously for a moment more, and he realized his less-than aboveboard intentions must have been written on his face. Quickly, he wiped the mirth from his features, biting his lip in an effort to contain a smile. She stepped forward, sliding into his handhold, her left arm curved around his right shoulder and her palm, cool and confident, held his left hand securely.

*** ***

Is he –laughing– at me?

Rukawa fumed inwardly at the telltale tugging of one corner of the redhead's mouth as the latter looked pointedly around the vicinity of Rukawa's ear.

God. He –is– laughing at me!

Determined not to let it get to him, Rukawa tuned out to Hanamichi's not-so-subtle snickering and focused his attention on the music instead.

I'll give you something to laugh about, he thought grimly.

"And a one, two, a three and four…"

He moved back, leading the redhead forward and –stumbling– oh-so accidentally, letting the stiletto heel of his suede shoe stab into Hanamichi's foot.

Score one for me, he triumphed, as Hanamichi yelped in surprise and pain. His eyes widened, however, as the younger boy automatically let go of him to grab the injured foot.

Oh, shit.

His legs tangled beneath him, and he tripped for real this time, falling ungracefully as he lost his balance. The floor was coming closer…closer…

*** ***

[Friday]

From one of the tables in the canteen usually reserved for the popular cliques of girls, a few pairs of eyes followed the tall, redheaded senior as he grabbed his tray from the canteen vendor and sped down the aisles to join his usual gang.

"I'll just bet Hanamichi Sakuragi doesn't have a date for the prom," one of the girls, a petite second-year with dyed bluish hair, remarked disdainfully.

"Yea, you're right. Look at him! Who would want to go with him?"

"He's loud—"

"And rude—"

"He's a gangster with no self-restraint! We all know how badly he treats Rukawa-kun just because he's jealous of him!"

There were nods all around the table in agreement.

"I don't think he can even dance," a clear voice commented, and laughter rang out to that.

"Don't make me laugh, Yumiko!"

"That's a terrible joke to have me suffer through while I'm trying to eat, Yumiko!"

The tall, shapely cheerleader looked around at her friends, smiling lopsidedly. "Well, you know how we have to go to all the basketball games and cheer since the team started making it into the Inter-High two years ago? That crazy idiot never passes the ball to Rukawa-kun, which is just silly and selfish because everyone knows who the real ace of the team is! And he's always heard before he's seen…how terribly annoying."

She looked around, then leaned forward and grinned at her friends. "I think I know just how to teach him a lesson."

*** ***

As the bell signaling the end of the last class rang, Rukawa rose from his seat, grabbing his bag and slinging it onto his shoulder before making his way out of class, ignoring the wistful glances from the girls. With the upcoming prom at stake, his admirers seemed to have gotten bolder, judging from the larger than usual pile of letters that had fallen out of his locker that morning.

Well, at least they were expressing themselves through prose and nothing more. He didn't feel particularly inclined to grouse that blessing.

He could still feel the ache in his arm, courtesy of the large bruise that had formed on his elbow from the fall he had taken during Hanamichi's second lesson. At that reminder, his face grew dark.

Dumb idiot.

The events of two days earlier replayed themselves in his head.

*Flashback

The floor was coming closer…closer…

Hanamichi finally noticed that his instructor was on a crash course with the parquet. Mahogany eyes widened and a screech escaped the taller boy as he lunged forward, meaning to catch Ruiya.

However, the force of his goodwill had a different idea entirely. He missed her arm, swiping at empty air and losing his own balance in the process. Vaguely, the redhead noticed as Ruiya gasped, twisting away so that he would not fall fully on her body, slamming her elbow painfully into the ground instead as she made contact with a solid 'thunk'.

He fell across her legs instead; landing with an 'oomph' as the breath was knocked out of him. His head met the ground in an unprecedented kowtow, and he groaned aloud. And then he noticed the position they were in.

Ruiya was staring at him, eyes wide in shock. Her skirt had been hiked up to the middle of her thighs, just barely managing to preserve her modesty from his view at her feet. His right arm had somehow snaked in between her calves as he landed, and his shirt had moved up so that it exposed flesh.

The apologies he had been meaning to babble died away as he looked at Ruiya. Pale cheeks were beginning to turn an interesting hue of crimson, and her mouth opened but no words came out. Hanamichi didn't seem to be particularly vocal himself, his own ears hot with blushing as he froze, willing his eyes not to drop anywhere below her neck.

"Get off."

Her voice was slightly unsteady, and held the faintest vestiges of outrage that would probably increase in the next few moments. Hanamichi obeyed instantly, scuttling away and pushing back from her, mindful of the fact that any time now he would be dutifully, vocally, painfully punished.

God, I just sat on my dance instructor.

The ensuing silence stretched between them. She swallowed heavily, and then made to rise, pulling her skirt down as she stood, dusting away the material. As she moved to adjust the dress, her left arm stilled, and a small grimace crossed her face before she realized he was watching her.

"…Are…are you okay, Ruiya-sama?"

She blinked at him, surprised at the sudden, tentative question.

He looked away, surprised to realize that he cared.

*End of Flashback

He actually sounded concerned... Rukawa mused. Maybe…maybe he –was– really sorry. Even though it was my fault for stepping on him.

It was infinitely confusing to bear witness to the conflicting dynamos of a particular outgoing redhead's personality. Rukawa, in all three years of high school since the first day Hanamichi had attacked him on the roof, had experienced nothing but animosity and anger from the power forward. Occasionally, in recent times, he knew the grudging respect in blazing eyes as Hanamichi glared at him from across the court. Not that he cared, because it was something he knew he deserved. Yes, down through the years, he had experienced from the redhead a violent spectrum of different emotions ranging from downright blatant dislike to unwilling acknowledgement.

But concern?

He knew Hanamichi had been trying to catch him as he fell. It was an incredibly alien gesture to him notwithstanding the Samaritan involved. And the question, when Hanamichi had asked him if he was all right, had downright shocked him. The query had been tremulous but sincere.

Rukawa pushed the doubts in his mind away. He didn't have time to spend thinking about Hanamichi's unreasonable mood swings. Another week and things would go back to exactly the way they were before.

He made his way to the gym, where from within, the sounds of basketballs swishing smoothly against hoops could already be heard.