Impulse
Chapter 4: Hook Line and Sinker
The sixth week.
Ryoma was currently nursing a thoroughly nuked brain in Fuji's class, having just emerged from a monstrously difficult three-hour chemistry exam twenty minutes prior. He had considered cutting, but unfortunately, Fuji encountered him in the hallway five minutes before class and Ryoma, even with both cerebral hemispheres sloshing in his head, knew better than to fight off a very enthusiastic Fuji subtly pushing him in the general direction of the classroom (apparently, it was raining again). He all but glued his head to the desk when he went inside and dropped down on his chair.
His head felt like someone was playing ping pong inside it. For a while, it seemed to him that he was floating in and between differing states of consciousness before one classmate brought up a topic that proved to be a thoroughly effectual wake-up bugle to the mentally exhausted Ryoma.
"Would you tell us something about your life, sensei?"
That was the question that kicked Ryoma's senses to gear.
"My life is a charming fairy tale of sorts. What aspect do you want to hear?"
And that was the response that completely hooked Ryoma's attention and actually made him sit up straight, all traces of exhaustion gone from his face. A mantra of denials echoed in his head. Not love not love not love…
"Love!"
Shit. Only sheer willpower kept Ryoma from head butting the desk again. Instead, he threw Fuji a warning look. Fuji wouldn't dare.
If Fuji noticed Ryoma, he didn't show it. "Ah. I expected as much," he said, nodding. "Well, alright, if that's what you want."
He would. Ryoma's glare escalated to killer eyes that promised vast amounts of bloodshed, which, he later realized, wasn't much use since Fuji wasn't looking at him.
"However," Fuji added cautiously, folding his arms. "I am duty bound to warn you that if you're looking for happy, you won't hear it from me."
Several female classmates, who were apparently picking up from Fuji's sadistic vibes, leaned forward, hands gripping the edge of the table as they grinned excitedly at the prospect of hearing their professor's tragic story. "Ooh! Tell us!"
Tension gripped Ryoma's insides. No. Don't.
"Alright," Fuji acceded, omnipresent closed-eyed smile back in place. He pushed himself up to sit on his desk and scoured the mob of eager faces. He paused for a bit before speaking. "To begin with, I think you should know that the love of my life is male, like me."
The coil of tension in Ryoma's gut tightened.
Disappointment made a few girls' features droop. "A man?"
"Yes." Fuji turned towards them. "Does that bother you?"
They immediately shook their heads. "No. Go ahead with the story sensei."
"Saa… alright then, I'll begin my story." Another pause ensued, as Fuji appeared to think on something. After a few seconds, he smiled decisively and spoke again. "For the sake of discretion, I shall call him… my little prince." His smile took on a note of fondness as he said this.
"Awww…" Several female classmates cooed. It was all Ryoma could do not to hurl his psychology textbook at Fuji.
"Once upon a time," Fuji began. "In my junior high school years, I met my little prince on the tennis courts. He had both a height and attitude problem, but he was bright and talented, and I was smitten with him."
"Was he cute, sensei?"
Fuji smiled brightly. "He was adorable."
Another chorus of "Awws." Ryoma cringed.
"Now, not to sound conceited, but I was the second best player in our team," Fuji continued. "But when my little prince came, my position was threatened."
"We played it out on the tennis courts one time, in a practice match. We were neck to neck in scoring. It was one of the rare occasions I actually played seriously against anybody. I'd never felt so alive, so thrilled with anything in my life as the time I played him." Fuji's voice was even and steady, but there was an implicit note of vibrance to it that did not escape Ryoma's ears. "Even when it began to rain and the rest of the team sought shelter, we kept playing."
More squealing. "Who won?"
Fuji shrugged. "We never found out. Our coach told us to stop and we couldn't do anything about it."
"Oh." Their faces drooped again, then lifted into semi-hopeful expressions. "Did you ever get to finish it?"
Fuji shook his head. The class fell into collective mutterings of "Damn."
Ryoma buried a hand in his hair. His head was hurting too much to deal with Fuji divulging their tragic love story to a roomful of nosy students who would probably guess who the little prince was in the end anyway. Ryoma had never second-guessed Fuji's sadistic tendencies, but this really took the cake.
"Anyway," Fuji continued, his expression turning wistful. "I tried to be a good senpai to him. At that time, I wasn't sure if what I felt for my little prince was admiration or infatuation so I stayed neutral, showing my affection sparsely but sincerely. Eventually though, I realized that I wanted more than camaraderie. So on my graduation day, I asked him to date me. He refused."
Gasps. "WHAT? But why?"
Fuji shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't ask. But I accepted it and went on my way, telling myself that maybe he wasn't ready for that kind of relationship yet."
Ryoma's classmates seemed to want to say something more but they wisely shut their mouths, which was good, because Ryoma was ready to kill some of them. Fuji began speaking again.
"We went to the same high school. Since I was two years his senior, I only got to see him regularly in my third year. Again, I didn't put any pressure on him and contented myself by watching him on a regular basis. I knew he knew I was watching him, but that was intentional. Occasionally, when I was sure he didn't know I was watching him, I'd take pictures of him. I was no longer a part of the tennis team at that time, having shifted my focus to photography. And yes, I must admit, I was obsessed enough to make him the main subject of my camera."
Ryoma looked down at his desk, his heart suddenly choosing this time to do a tapdance beneath his ribs. Fuji had him on film and he didn't know it?
"And so, on my graduation day in high school, I asked him the same question. He refused again."More whining. "Whaaaaat?"
Ryoma sank lower in his seat.
"Saa…" Fuji pacified the outraged females with a serene smile. "We also attended the same college. However, I hardly got to see him, even if I tried, because of our different schedules, the time I put into my clubs, and his… other affairs abroad. Finally, on my graduation here, I gathered up my courage and told him I loved him.
"Oh my god! And…?"
Fuji sighed. "He still said no."
The reactions were instantaneous.
"What! Sensei, he's so stupid!"
"How could he not love you back!"
"After you waited for him for such a long time!"
"Sensei, he's an insensitive jerk. He doesn't deserve that kind of devotion!"
Ryoma turned his attention away from the newly hatched we-hate-the-little-prince club and focused instead on devising some painful method of retribution for this outright baiting. He wondered if he could pull off sterilizing Fuji's balls by taping them to a running Xxerox machine.
"Saa… but that's the way the story goes," Fuji said, shrugging. "Real life is hardly a happy ending."
The almost non-existent drop in Fuji's tone made Ryoma look up. It was only then that Ryoma realized that Fuji's expression was no longer as composed as it originally was. It was still calm, by all means, but the blue eyes looked deadened with a sense of loss and the smile was strained. Only those who knew Fuji well enough could detect it, and if Ryoma didn't notice it, no one else had a chance to.
Then, all of a sudden, the irritation Ryoma was feeling subsided and transformed into a less desirable emotion: guilt.
Which was totally uncalled for because Fuji was the one violating his privacy here. But still, there was no mistaking the tide of raw emotion that tugged at Ryoma's heart.
Fuji spoke again. "I wasn't discouraged. I wasn't happy but I was content… just watching him." His voice softened, and he seemed to be talking more to himself than to the class. "And I continue watching him, even now."
The class, sans Ryoma, leaned forward to hear Fuji better. "How long do you plan to keep on waiting?"
"As long as long extends."
The guilt in Ryoma's heart tripled.
"Doesn't it hurt, sensei?"
Fuji's eyes veered down. "Of course it does."
"But you're always smiling."
Fuji was silent for a while. Then he lifted his eyes and in an instant, his face resumed its polite formality. "Perhaps after eight years of enduring everything, I've reached the level of hurting where I can hardly feel it anymore. It's just a matter of getting used to it. So I can keep smiling."
Ryoma's heart scraped painfully against his ribs.
"Oh." Ryoma's classmates didn't seem to know what to say to that. "Will you ask him again, sensei?" they asked instead.
Fuji's nodded resolutely. "Of course."
"But what if he refuses again?"
"Then I'll try again until he says yes."
"You're hurting yourself sensei," a female classmate argued, apparently devastated by his professor's loss. "Why don't you look for someone else?"
"Looking for someone else wouldn't erase the hurt," Fuji replied gently. "It will just... hurt differently."
Fuji... Ryoma felt like he was going to be sick. His chest hurt a lot, at any rate.
"Either way… it's still your loss, isn't it, sensei?"
Fuji smiled painfully. "Yes."
"What do you think is the reason he continually refused?"Fuji glanced at the ceiling thoughtfully before answering. "Maybe… I kept doing something that he didn't like."
More like you didn't do something, Ryoma corrected internally. He looked down at the table again, feeling his ears burning. His headache was gone, replaced by the heavy weight in his chest.
For a few minutes, silence reigned over the room. Then…
"Echizen." Ryoma looked up. For the first time in the entire class period, Fuji looked at him. "You seem deep in thought. Would you mind sharing it with us?"
Ryoma stared back at those unblinking eyes, taking in the challenge and fresh hurt well-concealed beneath the blue depths. For a moment, he was at a loss of what to do. He hated himself for the self-traitorous thoughts he was harboring. But then, a familiar, firm voice inside him insisted that he should hate Fuji more for bringing everything back to the surface in the first place.
He listened to the latter. Before his courage could flee, he spoke, making sure his voice was appropriately cold. "I think he's just being smart."
Not a few female classmates gasped at this. "Echizen! That's a horrible thing to say!"
"Ah." Fuji was unfazed. "And why do you say that?"
"Maybe you don't take him seriously. You tell him you love him but you don't show it." Ryoma was surprising himself with his own boldness. "You said it yourself, you just keep watching him."
"Maybe that's my way of saying I'm always there for him."
"Maybe that's not the right way."
Fuji's eyes widened for a split second before reverting back to its composed front. "Maybe I thought I would be pushing him away if I came too close."
"Maybe you thought wrong," Ryoma shot back, his words coming straight from his gut now. "And what he really needed was someone to be physically there with him and not a pair of steely eyes watching every move he makes."
Fuji got off his desk, eyes narrowed dangerously at Ryoma. "Are you saying I approached him the wrong way?"
Ryoma gripped the edge of his desk to keep himself from standing up. "You didn't approach him enough!" It was all he could do to keep his voice from shaking.
Fuji's expression didn't change. For a moment, Ryoma feared that Fuji was going to do something really terrible to him, something along the lines of revealing the identity of the villainous little prince to the class, which was quite possibly the most painful thing that could happen to him at this point in time.
Then, much to Ryoma's surprise, Fuji took on a resigned expression, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Do you think I'm too late then?"
Ryoma wanted to make a scathing "Yes" but what actually spilled out of his lips was soft "Maybe."
"Maybe," Fuji echoed. "So there's a possibility."
Despite the strings of guilt still tugging at Ryoma's heart, the words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Don't bet on it."
This time, the hurt in Fuji's eyes was impossible to miss.
Ryoma's pulse was roaring so loudly in his ears, it was a miracle it didn't echo inside the room. For a moment, he was paralyzed in his seat, shocked with himself and what he had just revealed. Shocked that he had dared to speak to Fuji in that way. Even without turning around, he knew that his classmates' eyes were darting between the two of them as if one of them would explode at any minute, stunned.
Fuji opened his mouth to speak but the bell rang.
Without waiting for Fuji's reply, Ryoma grabbed his bag and nearly tripped over himself as he ran out of the classroom.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed. You guys rock.