Chapter 2 of The Idol's Idol
He was finding it unusually difficult to concentrate during his classes that day. No matter how hard he tried to focus his gaze on his sensei and the blackboard, somehow his eyes would wander over to the classroom door like he expected someone to walk in any moment. His heart was pounding so fast he was sure it was going to explode before the morning was over. His senses seemed enhanced somehow- his whole anatomy was on the alert. What for, he truly didn't know.
Okay, so maybe he did know. He was waiting for Kajimoto to walk in through that door, waiting for Kajimoto to come up to him and give him a harsh telling off, waiting for Kajimoto to flush angrily as he came up with a smartass reply, waiting for Kajimoto to storm out of the class, head held high and trying to act like he wasn't really angry. Although anyone who knew him well enough would probably see through the façade, he thought. Oh well, it wasn't his place to criticize. After all, he was the source of the other's anger.
Wakato had been a naughty boy, of that he was fully aware. He was sure he deserved whatever they threw at him for skipping team practice three days in a row, but the knowledge didn't comfort him in the least. Hanamura-sensei was very hard on delinquents, and his playing truant for the past few days was going to earn him some very severe punishment from the normally mild-mannered coach. Maybe if he dropped out of the team completely, he might get away with it. Not that he was seriously considering dropping tennis for good. No, he would threaten to quit if sensei insisted on disciplining him. She'd probably let him off the hook and beg him to stay, anything, if only he wouldn't leave the team. Wakato snorted. Yeah right, and pigs could fly.
Can't they? A part of him argued. If you put them in an airplane, they could!
That's beside the point! The other argued, you're in trouble whatever you do!
Wakato sighed. Oh he was in trouble all right. His sensei had finally had enough of his restlessness and was standing by his table, rapping a long wooden ruler sharply to get his attention.
Oh of all the rotten luck, he thought disgustedly.
Hanamura frowned at him in disapproval. "It goes without saying that I am extremely disappointed with your behaviour, Wakato-kun. I would have expected more from you, however, judging from your absence in the last three days, I have been very much mistaken." She adjusted her glasses and he noticed the way they glinted under the harsh gym lighting was almost ominous. "You will be punished of course, but after that you are allowed to resume your training." She glanced over at Shinjou who was next to her, "Renji here will tell you what you have missed during your very long…absence." She waved him away.
"So…Shinjou-fukubuchou, what did I miss?" he asked cheekily as he followed the vice-captain across the gym.
"Plenty." Was the one-word reply.
"Go on," he urged.
Shinjou glanced at him disdainfully, and he had the impression that he was looking down his nose at him, but Wakato, being the way he was, grinned it away.
"You will feed the balls to Kajimoto for the rest of the week as punishment," the taller boy told him impassively.
If Wakato wasn't Wakato, he surely would have cried right then and there.
Great, the reason he had gone MIA for the past three days and he had to come face to face with it the moment he reappeared. Had he really done something wrong in his previous life? Did the Gods really hate him so? What exactly did he do to deserve this?
Facing the cause of his absence was bad enough, but having to feed him for the rest of the week…he couldn't think of a worse punishment. And apparently, he wasn't the only one who thought so.
"Wakato-san, you've gone and done it haven't you?" Kiriyama asked in awe. The boy with the rippling muscular physique gaped at him like he was some demigod. Which he was, in a way. No one dared to cross Hanamura-sensei intentionally, although Wakato had come close to doing so in the past. He was the only one foolish enough after all, as Kouhei put it.
"What?" he feigned ignorance. It always worked in his favour and he was sure it wouldn't fail him this time.
"Feeding the buchou all those fast serves…you must have really made sensei mad," the second year continued, his doubles partner nodding furiously in agreement.
"Aa…" he nodded, pretending not to care.
Kiriyama whistled. "Well, you won't skip practice so easily next time, once you're done."
"What?" this time, he couldn't keep the panic out of his voice and he winced inwardly as he practically squawked like a deranged crow.
Youhei nodded sympathetically and laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Buchou's been practicing with Shinjou-san. They haven't played with anyone else for a while." The look the younger Tanaka threw him made his spine tingle. "And sensei's been asking Shinjou-san to feed heavy balls to buchou."
"Yeah…" Kouhei spoke up, "and they've been using Deep Impulse in secret. Kajimoto-buchou's gotten hurt several times, but he won't give up. He's trying to master some new move I think." He looked thoughtfully at the court, then, "It's that gravity drop I think. The one he used the last time you played." Kouhei nodded at Wakato. "He's perfecting the move."
Youhei looked impressed. "How come you know so much?" he asked, genuinely curious.
A flash of irritation before his brother replied, "I happen to be more observant than you think."
Youhei bristled at the indirect insult. "I'm not…" then he paused, giving his twin an odd look, "oh so that's why you've been disappearing after practice and all…"
A furious blush spread across his features. "I have not!"
"Have too!"
"Have not!"
"Have too!"
"NOT!"
"TOO!"
Their voices were rising by an octave with every shout and Ota frantically waved at them to keep it down before…
"What's the trouble here?" Both twins clamped their mouth shut immediately and whirled around to face their frowning captain and their none-too-happy vice-captain.
"Buchou! Fuku-buchou!" they managed to squeak. "It's his fault!" At this, they pointed at each other. Wakato would have chortled at them if only he didn't feel so unnaturally conscious of his captain's presence. As it was, he shrank further into his uniform and wished that a hole would just appear and swallow him up. Please don't let him notice me, he prayed silently, please let him not see me! Even to his own ears he sounded ridiculous, but desperation made people do illogical things sometimes, and no doubt, Wakato realized absently, this was one of those times. Kami-sama, he begged, mentally on his knees and prostrating before his deity, please please PLEASE don't let him see me!
"Wakato-kun," he heard his sensei's familiar voice at his shoulder, "what exactly are you doing?"
The redhead cringed when he realized that his efforts at making himself invisible to the captain had only succeeded in getting everyone's attention. "Uhh," he fumbled for an excuse, "I'm not feeling well, sensei." That wasn't a lie, not entirely. He really was feeling ill at ease, what with Kajimoto barely five feet away.
Hanamura frowned at him, concern evident in her features. "Then you shouldn't have come for training today. I will not have you exert yourself when selections are around the corner. Kajimoto-kun," here she motioned for the tall boy to come over, much to Wakato's horror, "please make sure he gets home safely. You're dismissed too."
Kajimoto bowed, "As you wish sensei. However, I was in the middle of a service match with some of the non-regulars…" he left his sentence hanging.
Hanamura picked up on it immediately. "Reiji will see to it that they get their practice. You've been at it longer than anyone else Kajimoto-kun. You're dismissed for today, and you too, Wakato-kun."
"Hai, sensei." Both boys bowed before turning to leave. Wakato thought he heard a frustrated 'It's all your fault!' directed to the smaller twin as they left the gym, but when he snuck a glance at his captain, who seemed not to have heard anything, he shrugged it off.
I seriously need to sort myself out, he thought, I'm considering Kouhei as competition- for HIM! He sighed audibly, and HE isn't even aware of the ruckus that he's causing!
Kajimoto ignored him, dismissing it as his usual antics. "Get changed and I'll meet you at the school gate," was all he said before he disappeared into a room, "I'll walk you home."
If lightning could just strike him now, Wakato would let it so he could die. Yes, right now.
He snuck another meek glance at the other boy from under his cap. And oh! Was he thankful that he always had his cap on because how else would be explain to his captain that he suddenly felt very uncomfortable without it and needed it so he could hide from that stare?
Not that the other was staring. He wasn't even paying Wakato the least bit of attention, which put him off just a little. Wakato was Wakato, the school heartthrob, the one with the huge fan-base, and with his own platoon of cheerleaders screaming him on at his matches. He deserved some form of acknowledgement at the very least but this…this person was denying him even that!
To sum it up, Wakato felt really lousy inside. And, he mused miserably, it was probably showing on his face, but it's not like he'd noticed. Noooo…Kajimoto-buchou was especially dense when he was supposed to be tactful, and particularly keen when he wasn't supposed to be paying any attention. Wakato sighed. He really hated his life right now.
"Are you okay?" Kajimoto's voice was soft and hesitant, but it still startled him out of his preoccupation. His shoulders jumped a little and he grinned nervously at his superior, from under his trusty cap.
"Aa. Just a little…jumpy," he joked, laughing lightly to emphasize his point. Kajimoto frowned but didn't press the matter.
"So…" he started, suddenly desperate to keep the brunette's attention on him, "I heard you've been practicing." Mentally, he slapped himself and cursed the stupidity of his statement. Oh that was brilliant, just brilliant! Of course Kajimoto had been practicing! Unlike himself, who had been skiving off for the past three days…
"The junior senbatsu camp is in two weeks. It's better to practice as much as possible to increase the chances of selection," Kajimoto replied coolly, "you should too."
His grin turned sheepish and apologetic. "I should. But since I'll be training with you, it should be okay, ne?"
Kajimoto finally turned his gaze on him and Wakato marveled at the sheer beauty of those strange lavender eyes, so unique and pretty like the person himself. Yes, there was no doubt, he thought distractedly, watching with dreamy eyes the way the sun's rays fell on those beautiful brown locks, and set off the tanned skin, and how the wind toyed with aforementioned locks, tossing them around in a carelessly attractive fashion, that Kajimoto was so very pretty.
"I suppose. But it's better not to get careless," Wakato watched in fascination as those ridiculously luscious lips shaped to form words, and he unconsciously licked his own dry ones. "Are you even listening?"
"Huh?" He tore his gaze away from those inviting, cherry-red lips to meet the other's mildly affronted look.
"If you're starting a conversation just for the sake of it, then please don't. Silence is much better than meaningless chatter."
Meaningless chatter! Wakato fumed inwardly, how dare he when it took me so much to try and say something! Aloud, he repeated, "Huh?"
Kajimoto rolled his eyes. "We're almost at your house I think."
"Ne, buchou," he asked, suddenly snapping to full attention, "where do you stay?"
"Not far."
"But where exactly?" he knew he sounded horribly eager, but it hardly mattered at the moment. He could berate himself for it after he found out where Kajimoto lived.
"Four streets away."
"Four streets away?" he echoed in wonder, "that's really not that far!" Kajimoto nodded carefully, completely unaware of where this was headed, "how come I never knew?"
"Because you never asked?" Kajimoto responded with a question of his own. Wakato grinned, idiotically happy in his newfound discovery.
"You never told me!" he said accusingly.
"I never saw the need to," the other replied, adorably clueless of the thoughts that were now running through his head.
You will, in time, Wakato promised, chuckling evilly.
Later on, as he lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling as was his custom, he wondered what exactly had possessed him. He'd made Kajimoto promise to wait for him outside his house the next morning so that they could go to school together, and he had agreed, somewhat reluctantly. But the point was he had agreed and Wakato saw no reason to gripe over how obviously desperate he must have sounded. Kajimoto was the only thing occupying his strangely empty mind these days, and there was only one way to get him out of his system: spend as much time with him.
Theoretically, this was how it was supposed to work: if they spent so much time together, he'd eventually find a flaw in his captain's character, which would definitely smother his interest, since Wakato wasn't the type to settle for anything less than perfect. Either that, or he would eventually get sick of seeing so much of pretty that he would decide that Kajimoto was really too much for his liking.
Theoretically, of course. In real life, things never quite go as planned and he wondered with some worry what might mess up with his carefully formulated logic. He prayed it wouldn't be anything important.
