I've Had Enough of your Dicketry to Last me for Eternity
Disclaimer: I don't own SD boys, Inoue does. The events that follow are not included in the original plot but enjoy anyway.
Summary: Mitsui contracts amnesia after Rukawa's bike runs him over! Shohoku boys resort to desperate measures else known as the methods of mayhem. Pairing: DUH. ON-GOING
A/N: If you're wondering what 'dicketry' is; it's the state of being a dick. I got that from South Park, and special mention to Pollux who suggested the brilliant (is it?) title. Anyway, the pairing, if you hadn't figured it out, is MitRuMit.
Chapter I: A Fine Approach to the Problem
It isn't like Hisashi Mitsui to be late; but today he is late for some arcane reason only he and his wacko pals are happy about. He nonchalantly traipses past Shohoku entrance gate with both hands buried in his pockets; all that's missing is the flippant whistle that insures indifference. The time is approximately 45 minutes after the start of the first period; yeah, he is dangerously late and his English teacher is probably on the verge of temptation of erasing his name from the students' list. That scutty bitch hates him to the core and isn't about to lend the senior a whit of leniency at rare times like this. He hates that bitch too anyway.
Kaede Rukawa is insistent on his tardiness; a punctual Rukawa is totally out of character as a majority opinion. He pedals his way to Shohoku entrance gate with shut lids and a boring snoring hum. He too is 45 minutes late and he is only too sure that his Math teacher will send another white board eraser flying straight to his head; that is if he continues his sleeping session during that period which is likely, but otherwise, his opaque ears will be subjected to another set of blaring and wrangling for being late. Giving a fuck about it only insults his slightly used intelligence.
Neither knows that this day is a funny coincidence for both of them; later, they will also indulge themselves in a rather consequentially odd series of events.
Rukawa sleeps heavily as his wheels keep running, seemingly on their own command. The pink vehicle drives through a smooth and easy course until it slams into something soft that later becomes wriggly. Rukawa can't altogether figure out if he hears a moan of pain from somewhere or more specifically, somewhere near him. The dominant sound is like a clang, the sound of a bottle smashing on the floor, only louder. The current his tires incurred is enough to shake him awake and as he checks out what's below him someone is piteously slumped face down on the pathway. Rukawa boards off and is about to kneel over the Godforsaken someone when an indignant voice makes him jump back.
'You imbecilic bastard! Why can't you look where you're going, huh?' The person manifests ample signs of intention to threat but then again, what is it to Rukawa? Nothing; unless that brittle boned ninny on the ground was stiff enough to cause damage to his precious pink bike, nothing personal shall go between them.
Rukawa ignores the person; luckily, there aren't any students to gawk at the spectacle and buzz around with themselves. He steers his eyes to the wheels and finds no serious fuck-up in it. He makes a motion to hop on it again but,
'You're gonna fucking pay for this, Rukawa, and guess what? The whole basketball club will have to kill you too.' Growls the whiny bastard. Rukawa is on the brink of grudging him another moment of attention when he catches the word basketball.
'What?'
'Well, well. You aren't sharp enough to notice it.' The guy stretches up and shoots a haughty sneer at the freshman. 'Well then, Mr. Ice Prick—I mean---Prince, let me be the fortunate one to condemn you for your first serious crime; this is the day that you almost killed Hisashi Mitsui.' The guy finishes his terse indictment.
By this time, Rukawa gathers enough amount of concentration and wakefulness to see if the huge mouthed bastard isn't shitting him. True enough, the pathetic figure on the ground resembles Hisashi Mitsui, the die-hard bully of Shohoku seniors crowd. Bludgeoned dead meat; that's what he's gonna be if Akagi finds out. And it's only a matter of minutes now before the word travels by mouth and argh; the whole basketball team is so going to dump him to the gallows. His imagination now reaches the extent where the school paper publishes the controversy with the stupid headline; Superstar Rookie Causes Injury to Team Mate. Darn. He must get out of here before this turns into another pointless hullabaloo.
He takes a quick glance at Mitsui's immotile form on the ground; Rukawa's tire marks are prominently imprinted on the senior's blouse. Dang it; he can't possibly get rid of the evidence, he has no time! There's no point lingering here, he thinks, I must…get away, fast. He grabs his bike; by now, he's absolutely awake (the insane thumps of his heart tell him so) and more nervous than he's willing to admit. He troops out straight to the building, leaving Mitsui and his bastard in the cold.
'Goddamn sonuvabitch, come back here! You can't just easily get away with homicide, enormous fucker! I'll let the whole world know of this, you'll see!' Mitsui's friend shouts after Rukawa as if the latter has indeed cashed it there. But Rukawa is gone too fast, too soon.
I'll take care of it later; it's not entirely my fault anyway. Heaven, help me with this. Rukawa's mind is reeling wearily. I'll tell the team I didn't mean it and they'll sure understand. Or maybe not. Damn. Come what fucking may.
Some hours later.
Kiminobu Kogure barges to the infirmary.
'I heard what happened; the whole school is whispering it, even the walls. Is he okay?' Kogure pants and looks sympathetically at the unconscious Mitsui who is tended by his loyal Hotta.
'Yeah, terrible thing. He's got run over by a bike on the way to the entrance. He hasn't come to the world since; I'm afraid it's gonna be serious.' Hotta shakes his head and nods at the bed where the sleeping Mitsui is resting supine. His exhalation seems normal though.
'Does anyone know who's responsible for this?' Kogure asks with a frown.
'I do.' Hotta declares confidently.
'But who in the world—'
Kogure's sentence is aborted by Mitsui who finally lifts himself to sententiousness. His eyes are bloodshot but remarkably blank and his expression is either that of a newborn child or of a cold zombie.
'Mitsui!' Both Hotta and Kogure exclaim in mixed delight and anxiety.
'Uh, where am I? Who am I?' is all the senior could come up with.
The two gape flabbergasted; that hits them like they've just been thrown over to the Suicidal Cows' Cliff. Fear finds its way through Kogure's mental functions as the most horrific thought introduces itself to them; amnesia? His fears are now too much for his speech, he supposes, that for a long while he doesn't move a fraction from his shocked standstill.
'I…we..Mitsui, (that's your name), we have to get you to the team. Come with me now. And Hotta, if you please…' Kogure stammers finally and leads them out to the gym.
'Akagi, we have something crucial to fix here.' Kogure confronts the captain first thing.
Akagi steals a curious stare at Mitsui who's now looking wide eyed at the stadium. Nothing seems physically fucked with him except for his puerile caveman-ish gestures.
'Uh, is he okay, Kogure? Any broken bone or anything?' The captain inquires.
'Nothing.'
'Then he's in mint condition?'
'That's the crucial part; physically: natch, mentally; NO. He's 100 per cent off his screws and I'm serious.' Kogure says in fluttering pitch.
'What do you mean?' Akagi throws him a skeptical glare.
'Amnesia.' Kogure lowers his tone as if to protect a secret.
'WHAT!' the gorilla roars only to procure momentary mass attention. 'Mitsui! C'mere!'
Mitsui moves to Akagi.
'Here.' Akagi throws him a ball. 'Get this through the net from the free throw line. Ayako, show him the freethrow line!' Akagi says sternly; his initial response to this news of pandemonium is to check out whether Mitsui has lost his skills or has retained it, the latter being his high flown hope.
Mitsui tries a shot. In. It's too easy for him; it's never alien to him, shooting. It's like he's been doing it all his life and not even with his memory removed could he be out of touch. It's/he's almost too good to be credible.
Akagi's mouth drops ajar. 'Are you sure, Kogure?' He doesn't want to believe it, and the situation seems to be on his side at that.
'Ask him what our names are.' Is the glassman's reply.
'Alright. But wait, what are we going to do? The game against Ryonan is only 3 days to go.' Akagi asks which draws an obvious look of befuddlement from Kogure; are you really asking someone ELSE what are we going to do? Kogure thinks.
'You can't send him home now.' Hotta's voice interrupts as Kogure's silence makes it clear that he doesn't know what next.
'Huh?'
'Well, you can't. If his parents find out, they're gonna confine him to the hospital or to their house till he gets his memory back. If that happens he won't be able to play even, I'm afraid, to the nationals. You guys should be thankful he still has his athletic touch.' Hotta says a matter-of-factly.
By this time, the basketball club has heard everything. Lucky for them, Mr. Anzai is also spending his time in the hospital due to yesterday's accident (heart attack) else, Mitsui's parents would know all about it now.
'What's the trouble here, Gori? And why's this crackhead bastard here?' Sakuragi asks rudely and suddenly, referring to Hotta.
'Mitsui's got amnesia, happy now?'
'WHAT!' everybody choruses in surprise. A recurrent murmur follows.
'Does that mean he's not eating properly?' The redhead asks curiously.
'No, dumby. It means that he doesn't remember anything.' Miyagi chides in. 'How's this fucking possible? Governor, what're we going to do now?' Miyagi ends as his face twists itself in arrant worry.
'That's what I'm asking Kogure here. Anyway, this guy here says we can't let anyone know.' Akagi answers.
'Why? Because the authority is going to hunt us all down?' It's Sakuragi again.
'No, you blithering moron. It's because they might keep Mitsui from playing, seeing his need for medical attention. Why don't you just go and show Mitsui around so he can familiarize himself?' Miyagi snaps at Sakuragi who obediently does what he's been told. 'So what's the plan?'
'As I was saying, we can't let his parents know. So I suggest you find excuses now.' Hotta says.
'Uhm, we can call his parents and tell them that the club will be in training for three days somewhere out of town. I hope his parents aren't as strict as the military.' Ayako offers.
'No, they aren't'. Hotta assures Ayako who stamps out immediately for the nearest phone.
'Okay, that being solved; what's next for Mitsui? Surely we can't let him on a mendicant vagrancy, if you know what I mean. Hotta, can you 'adopt' him for at least 3 days just before the Ryonan match? You're his friend, I'm certain you wouldn't find it bad or something.' Kogure pleads.
'I can't. My house is just a house away from his; there's no chance I'd be able to keep him without any leak to the neighborhood. Why can't you guys keep him?'
'Not a bad idea. Who's willing to foster Mitsui?' Akagi says, searching the crowd for volunteers. To his fiasco, no one is benevolent and charitable enough among his well disciplined boys. 'Ehem; as you oughta know, this is a matter of life and death; we can't let Mitsui NOT play in that match. He's our key to victory. Just for three days and then you're rid of him. A dumb person isn't exactly a bad company after all. So, anyone?'
Still no go.
'Why can't Rukawa take him?' Hotta sneers all of a sudden, a glint on the pools of his eyes is fairly visible. 'I suppose it isn't bad for the culprit to offer what little help he could avail.'
Rukawa freezes; all eyes are glued to him now. What the-
'What?'
'Well, Shohoku Basketball Cub, just so you know, Rukawa knocked poor Mitsui with his bike on the way to school this morning. He IS the reason why Mitsui's been besotted.' Hotta addresses the club with a malignant, accusing glare at the suspect.
'Rukawa, what the hell does this guy mean here?' Akagi turns to the freshman.
'…'
'Too guilty to speak, are you, Prince of the Antartic?' Hotta taunts.
'No, not at all.' Rukawa speaks for the first time in the afternoon. Oddly, he is able to conceal his former disorientation which could've not escaped an open accusation such as that.
'I was there, bastard so don't fucking deny it. You just ran off like that but I'm shrewd enough to corner you now. You will have to take the pleasure of looking after your victim from this point, savvy?' Hotta glares daggers at the freshman.
'You can't prove it.'
'Well, why don't we ask Mitsui then?'
'He won't remember, remember?'
Hotta halts. Yeah, Mitsui's memory hedges are practically in obsolete mode now. There was no one in the crime scene who could affirm anything aside from Rukawa and Hotta, and since both are prevaricating each other there's totally no hope of fixing it. Not with Mitsui in this awful condition. But somehow, Rukawa's nerves are relieved; lucky for him, Hotta doesn't remember his tire marks on Mitsui's back. Maybe, Mitsui's amnesia is contagious.
'Okay, we can't prove anything now as long as Mitsui's in this state.' Akagi breaks the tension. 'I'll say we do this systematically and fairly; 3 of us will take him each FOR a day until the Ryonan match comes. Let's base it on age chart; Miyagi will be his guardian this day; Sakuragi will take him tomorrow and then Rukawa on the day after tomorrow since he's the youngest. That's orderly enough for all of us so don't fucking whine, alright? The last thing I want is Mitsui missing this game.' Akagi says dismissively.
'Hey, what's so fair about that? I mean, why can't you and Kogure sempai do it too?' Miyagi pipes up.
'Uhm, we're seniors, Miyagi. There's too much to be busy with when you're a senior.' Akagi says in an FYI manner.
'That's my point. Mitsui's a senior too and I bet he should've been no less busy than you guys are; if that's so, you should be the one to help him with those stuff which, I think, mainly deal with academics. Me, Sakuragi, and Rukawa would be of no help for sure---'
'Miyagi, don't be recalcitrant and naïve at the same time,' Akagi gives him a reprimanding I'm-the-boss-here look 'Do you honestly think that the Mitsui sans memory is actually worse, scholastically speaking, than the Mitsui before, with all his damn memories and all? I would doubt this assumption if he didn't fail four subjects which apparently is NOT the case.' Akagi finishes; Miyagi thinks he has seen a smirk on the captain's face, or is it just him?
'Yes, boss.' Miyagi says, frustrated by the older lad's strong argument; Mitsui IS not exactly what you call a good student, not even one who cares about his grades, right?
'Well, not bad. But I still think it's a bittock fairer if the bastard who did this to him will get all the shit. But yeah; that's smart.' Hotta says, slightly aggravated. 'I'm off and just one thing before I entrust my friend to you; take good care of him, ok? Miyagi, I'll count on you this night.' Hotta winks and scoots out of the gym.
A collective sigh emits from everybody's chest that's probably been rising and falling continuously for the last few minutes; problem's not yet solved but they're getting there, the first step being taken. By this time, Sakuragi has fulfilled his tour guide role for Mitsui.
'Man, Mitchy's acting really weird today. He doesn't even know the way to the showers or how to twist the faucet open.' Sakuragi says in a strangely solemn tone.
'Yeah, what a pity. But at least he could still play good basketball.' Miyagi says, attempting a grievous tone and then, not being able to restrain the temptations of the humorous elements of the incident,
'HAHAHAHAHA' Miyagi and Sakuragi burst into a malignant, frank laughter. 'This is freakin' hilarious! I can't wait to make fun of him!'
'SHUT UP!' Akagi shouts.
TBC
A/NI got the whole plot in my head now but I still can't send it to the computer. This fic may be delayed a little later than expected but I swear, I'm gonna freaking finish it. And just to warn you; I'm the kind of 'writer' who updates rarely on her on-going stories. Sorry. Thanks for reading