Chapter Seven

Curiosity stoked, he listened for the telltale laughter again and then switched directions, prowling towards the shaded playground that he hadn't really noticed before. Stepping closer, he began to make out the words in that cheerful, smooth voice characteristic of Sendoh Akira.

"I'm so sorry! It was an accident I swear…are you hurt?!"

"…What if I said yes?"

"Ah, that would pose a million different possibilities for me to make it up to you."

A low chuckle in answer, followed by the sound of a whack. "God, Akira, is it possible for you to utter even one sentence without sounding suggestive?"

"Hey, that's the way you think. I plead my innocence."

"Mmhmm."

With a yell, Hanamichi jumped out of the bushes just as Sendoh, the latter's back to him, leaned forward. Shocked, Sendoh jumped back, a strangled sound coming from his throat as he turned to face the intruder, at the same time revealing the identity of his mysterious counterpart…

"FUJIMA?!"

"You've got the wrong person," the ex-captain of the Shoyo basketball team squeaked, fire blossoming in his cheeks.

"WERE YOU NUZZLING THE PERVERT'S SHOULDER?"

"No!" Sendoh cut in hurriedly, moving in front of Fujima to smile at Hanamichi. "I was just…um…just…checking his hair! Yes, that's it, I was checking his hair! For dust!"

The brunette's head bobbed furiously in agreement from behind.

Hanamichi blinked and scratched his head. "Oh well, I must have been mistaken. What are you two doing here?"

"Basketball!" they chorused together, as Sendoh looked around frantically for the orange ball which seemed to have disappeared, trying to show the evidence for that particular claim. When that failed, he turned back to Hanamichi, his smile beginning to appear a tad strained. "And…um…what about you, Hanamichi? What are you doing here?"

"I was just going to walt—" he clapped his hands over his mouth just in time. It was supposed to be a secret! And he had nearly thoughtlessly given it away!

At his audience's quizzical look, it was the latter's turn to flush.

"Nothing! I was just going to…to wa…to WALK!" he glanced surreptitiously at his watch as he tried to think of a way to stall, but forgot it as he read the time. His eyes bogged out. "Oh, no! I'm late!"

Ruiya is going to –kill– me.

He sped off without a backward glance, leaving behind two relieved point-guards in his wake.

For a while, there was silence except for the chirping of the crickets, and then…

"Checking my hair for –dust–, Sendoh Akira?"

*** ***

"And—heads up—one, two, three, one, two, three…"

Precisely on the beat, Hanamichi stepped back, remembering to keep his back straight this time. His feet, moving automatically in the sequence he had practiced last night in his room amidst a shower of CDs and dirty laundry, stepped in accordance with Ruiya as she steered him lightly in a basic box-step.

There was one thing about ballroom that he still found acutely uncomfortable with though: the sheer proximity of his partner.

Ruiya had explained briefly what they were to do before she had started teaching him, and one of the necessary things to do was actually to keep the right hip in contact with your partner's right hip so that the mirror image movements would be smooth and synchronized. It had sounded easy enough while it was being talked about.

Now, so close to Ruiya, the thoughts he had had of her earlier came back in full force. She was there, her fresh smell strangely intoxicating and heady, the warmth of her nearness under his hands.

CON-CEN-TRATE…I WILL CON-CEN-TRATE…

He forced himself to look past the steady gaze that seemed centered on his face, focusing instead on the potted plant peeking out from behind the glass of the window.

*** ***

The redhead was trying so hard to keep to the rhythm (and managing remarkably well for a beginner) that Rukawa could see the slight veins in his forehead throb. It was almost…cute.

Rukawa bit down on his tongue just in time to stop the corners of his mouth from tugging up.

I would never have imagined the day that Hanamichi Sakuragi could make me smile. I must be having a fever.

The soft chimes of Appassionata flowed through the room softly, almost tangibly. Held surprisingly securely, Rukawa pulled Hanamichi forward into yet another variation of the basic step. As they whirled around the room together, the strains of the music starting to die down, he could have sworn that Hanamichi was trying to look at him out of the corner of his eye. But every time Rukawa tried to meet the other's gaze, the redhead would turn away and focus somewhere behind.

Any other time, any other place, any other reality, and this would actually be romantic, the captain of Shohoku's basketball team mused absentmindedly, slightly miffed with the fact that he was playing catch-my-eye with Hanamichi Sakuragi, of all people. He felt one side of the large, oversized sweater he was wearing to conceal his torso slip slightly over his shoulder, exposing his collarbone to the cool air-conditioner. Automatically, he shivered, just as the last notes faded away.

"That was pretty good," Rukawa finally commented, keeping his tone even. It was hard to, with Hanamichi finally meeting his gaze directly but with a strange look in his eyes.

Now what's that idiot thinking?

"Are you cold?" Hanamichi asked abruptly, sliding out of the handhold and turning around, walking to the door. Halfway there, he spun back to face Rukawa, who had frozen in shock at the inordinately tender voice that the question had been phrased in. "Come on. Let's go outside for a while."

With remarkable composure, Rukawa recovered his voice almost immediately.

"We can't. You're paying for this lesson time."

Hanamichi grinned at him and shrugged. "I know. Hurry up already."

What was there to do but comply?

A few minutes later, they sat, perched next to each other on the doorstep of the studio, not looking at each other.

"Is it warmer here?"

Rukawa didn't quite know how to reply. He settled for the truth. "Yes," and then found it harder to add the next part of what he wanted to say. He said it nevertheless. "Thanks."

Hanamichi's lips curved up in a smile. "No problem. So, how long have you been dancing?"

Rukawa paused, not sure if he should let this conversation continue. Was this a getting-to-know-you session? If it was, he wasn't entirely certain that it was a good idea. How long would it be before he accidentally gave himself away?

"I don't want to pry," Hanamichi added quickly. "I'm just curious."

He's reading my mind.

"About one year now," he replied softly.

I should stop this.

"Are you still studying? I mean, ha, you don't look all that old for a teacher, you know?"

Should I tell the truth?

"I'm…I'm a senior in high school."

"Really? That's awesome! Me too!"

I know, idiot. He resisted the strange urge to smile again.

"Hmm…what school are you in?"

Flashbulbs of panic exploded behind Rukawa's eyes. Damn it. What school am I from?

"Ryonan."

Hanamichi laughed loudly, slapping his hands on his knees. "Oh! Then you must have known Sendoh Akira! He graduated last year!"

"Not personally." He hoped his reply was short enough to hint that the conversation was over.

"Well, I'll tell you a secret! You know how that Smiley is such a pervert with everyone? It's just a show, man."

Rukawa raised an eyebrow.

Hanamichi grinned at him comically. "Yep! And I know from firsthand experience because I saw him and Fujima Kenji—you know, that substitute from Shoyo; he was a senior two years ago—at the playground around here earlier. And…" he paused for dramatic effect, "They were kissing!"

Blink. Blink.

"Excuse me?" he asked, not sure that he had heard correctly. Hanamichi laughed again, putting a finger to his lips and half-rising, looking around mock-theatrically as if either Sendoh or Fujima would pop out of nowhere any instant.

"Don't tell anyone. They don't know that I've got them figured out. How come you came all the way over here to dance when you're studying so far away?"

Careful, Rukawa, careful, you're stepping on thin ice. "I moved to this neighborhood in my second year and found this place. I didn't want to change schools, that's all."

"So you live just right nearby?"

Rukawa bit his lip; the lies seemed to be spinning out of control.

Hanamichi must have read his hesitation in volunteering further information, because the redhead stood and stretched nonchalantly, as if the question hadn't been asked. He turned around and smiled down at his instructor.

"Anyway. Can we get back to dancing? I think I've warmed up enough."

Rukawa automatically took the hand that was offered to him, using the support as leverage as he rose. In that split second, he realized what he had done at the same moment as Hanamichi, who blushed and let go quickly, turning hurriedly around to push open the door of the studio.