A/N: This is the beginning of spring in the second year. There is a particular pattern to the seasons across the 3 years of middle school, and the reason for skipping certain seasons (and thereby gradually increasing the length of each year) will become more apparent later as you read on.
surreal: having the unreal, fantastic quality of a dream.
Their second year had the pair more involved in the Teiko basketball club than ever. The hours spent alone in the clubroom increased, especially after Seijuro was promoted to captain at the end of the previous year. They often remained in the school grounds until past eight at night, Seijuro studying the specifications of each member in the basketball team and Eru analysing possible opponents' tactics.
"Eru, it's late." A tinge of concern laced his words. Seijuro and Eru routinely left for home together. This night, however, it seemed as though Eru had no intention of returning home, if the digital clock displaying "21:32" was any indication.
"Go home, then." Seijuro narrowed his eyes fractionally at the defiant nature of her words. It was definitely uncharacteristic of her to brush off his words so dismissively.
"I'm not concerned about myself. Wouldn't your parents be worried about your safety?" Seijuro studied the girl carefully - past experience told him that she would hastily redirect the focus from her personal life. Just as he predicted, Eru's frame stiffened slightly, before she fired back, "What about yours?"
Seijuro was well aware that his father would not care - he was perpetually fixated on running his extensive business; Seijuro himself was more of an investment than anything, a future for his company. His mother could not care; she was too far gone. As though sensing that she had crossed a line, Eru hastened to make amends.
"Sorry for being so irritable; I didn't mean to offend you. I just wasn't planning on returning home for the night." That confession was unexpected. Seijuro raised one eyebrow sceptically.
"Why?" His question came across as a demand, just like many others before it. Eru paused, her pen hovering centimetres away from the paper, her dark eyes refusing to meet Seijuro's piercing ones.
Despite their relatively close relationship, Seijuro often found it difficult to unravel the girl's secrets. Their current situation was proof of his predicament. He sighed as Eru muttered something about needing to complete her homework and make preparations for the next match.
"You told me you didn't have homework during break and our next match is not for two weeks."
She blanched before quickly regaining her composure. "I have homework from the subjects after break."
A blatant lie. He shared those classes with her, and he recalled that none of the teachers had assigned any homework to them. Rather than pushing the subject, he quietly gathered his belongings and took his leave.
He always found practice calming – the rhythmic beat of the basketballs pounding against the floor soothed him. The repetition helped Seijuro get a grip on his surroundings, and feel as though he had absolute control over everything. In the midst of his oppressive life at home, the feeling was surreal.
Even without his title as captain of the basketball club, Seijuro's presence commanded respect and awe, as well as obedience.
"Aomine, Murasakibara, Midorima, Kise and Kuroko," his voice echoed across the courts. "Come with me." Leading the group to the clubroom, Seijuro could feel curiosity rolling off them in waves. As Seijuro opened the door, gesturing for them to enter, he was greeted by an unexpected sight: Nanase Eru was slumped over, sleeping fitfully.
"Eh? This is what you wanted to show us?" Kise asked, looking as perplexed as Seijuro felt.
"No." He gently shook the girl awake, concealing his own puzzlement. He had known Eru to be a passionate and determined individual – sleeping on the job was unheard of.
"Eru-chin? Do you need snacks to stay awake?" The girl in question was stricken with humiliation. Her blushing face and flurry of apologies lightened the mood considerably, but did not clear the doubts lingering in Seijuro's mind.
When the laughter died away, he turned to the first string regulars, "Success in the National Championships rests on our shoulders. I would like us to be in top condition. No one shall doubt our victory." To his approval, their carefree smiles were quickly replaced by resolute expressions.
Victory was everything.
After that episode where she was discovered asleep, Eru reflected that it would be even more challenging to hide from Seijuro's suspicions. She did not miss the worried glances he cast in her direction, nor the constant persuading for her to return home immediately.
A warm glow settled over the clubroom, emitted from what remained of the setting sun. Resting her head against her right palm, Eru took a shaky breath as she shut her eyes. They were burning from hours of staring at documents, and it was steadily growing more difficult to refocus her attention on the sheet of paper in front of her.
"Eru, shouldn't you take a break?" Seijuro paused, as though he was unsure of her reactions. "I understand that -"
"No, you don't understand. You can't keep telling me that you do." Eru took a deep breath before continuing, "I know that you're trying to help. But you can't even begin to understand anything. Not now, not ever." Her outburst echoed faintly in the small room, serving to reinforce the harsh meaning behind her sharp words.
A flash of hurt momentarily crossed Seijuro's features before he hastened to compose himself.
"Okay."
As she stared at his retreating figure, it briefly crossed her mind that she was supposed to feel elated that he had finally conceded. Instead, she wanted nothing more than to call out to him. To justify her words. To make sure that Seijuro knew that she was right. And maybe to see if he cared enough to come back to her. Why would he walk away from her when she needed him the most?
She felt an unnatural weight settle upon her as the door swung shut. Eru knew that there was a natural tendency to expect the people closest to her heart to understand everything happening inside of it. Even though she shunned him and refusing to leave herself vulnerable; despite building up walls made of titanium that acted as a barricade preventing anyone from breaking through, there was an innate desire for someone, him, to break down her walls and save the person trapped inside.
Eru desperately wanted Seijuro to understand, even if her cheerful facades served the purpose of evading him.
Despite her bitter words less than a week ago, Seijuro often felt that Eru's kindness was overlooked. Perhaps kindness was inversely proportionate; the smaller the person, the more kindness they contained. Then again, he mused, that principle did not really apply to himself.
She went to great extents to do ridiculous things for people, putting her happiness on the line, in order to salvage someone else's. "What if my joy is derived from making other people happy?" He recalled Eru justifying herself in such a fashion. He thought that notion was ridiculous. Who could risk so much for the sake of someone else's happiness and security and then claim to receive an equal amount of fulfilment from doing so?
To put things bluntly, Eru had a tendency not to use her brains in most situations. Despite being a logical and generally reasonable person, her over-reliance on her emotions often led her to unfortunate situations that she could have avoided. He had told her once, "Rule with both your heart and your mind. Do not solely depend on one." Even as the words left his mouth, he was certain that it would take more than head knowledge to change her mind-set. And she certainly had not changed yet, he thought, as he surveyed the scene from the door of the classroom.
It was strange how one's raw emotions could lead them to do unfathomable things. For instance, how a demure, timid girl was staring defiantly into the eyes of two boys who were probably at least twenty centimetres taller than her.
"You shouldn't say those things to people; and it's inexcusable if you hurt them physically." Seijuro allowed the vague hint of an amused smile to grace his features as he began walking in their direction. The boys' responses to her reproachful tone were snorts of derision – a fatal mistake, Seijuro thought grimly, she would probably beat them both up in her current state.
As the taller of the two males raised his fist, Eru did the unexpected. She flinched. He knew he had not been mistaken when he saw the look of sheer terror on her face. Her clenched fists rose to defend herself, then abruptly fell limply to her sides, as though she thought that resistance was futile.
From his first few interactions with her, he had known that Eru was strong-willed. She always portrayed herself as courageous. Not exactly brazen and bold, but determined to uphold moral justice, and that was how everyone knew her. But when the taller boy's fist collided with his palm, Seijuro's glance in her direction left him reeling. The supposedly indomitable girl that stood before him was not so fearless after all.
His first success in gleaning any information from her was in March. Like most other weekdays, Seijuro found himself working overtime in the clubroom, mostly for Eru's sake, as she seemed reluctant to leave as usual.
"Eru," He began softly. She closed her eyes, as though sensing what his next words would be. "Are you tired?"
At his words, her brown eyes opened by a margin, gazing towards him suspiciously. With a withdrawn sigh, she muttered an almost indistinct "Yes." Her next words caught Seijuro off guard. "I couldn't get any sleep again last night."
Deciding to push his luck, Seijuro ventured, "Is that why you have a tendency to sleep during breaks and club sessions?"
Eru gave a slight nod before she raised her head to meet his eyes. What startled him was not the dark circles, but the fact that her gaze seemed shattered. Even if he was aware that her positive disposition was all a brave front, he would never have imagined the soft-spoken, elusive girl to be this broken.
His next movements surprised himself. Rising from his seat, Seijuro crossed the room with lengthy strides and clasped her hands in his. "You can trust me." Her stiff, distant attitude softened instantly at his touch and he could see the unspoken gratitude reflected in Eru's eyes. When a few stubborn tears threatened to roll down her cheeks, Seijuro hesitantly moved both his hands towards her face, and gently wiped the tears away with his thumbs.
Eru supposed it had always been this way. She was the pitiful damsel in distress, and Seijuro was the stereotypical white knight who was always the one to rescue her. She often wondered what Seijuro actually saw in her, because her painfully average appearance and performance (in most aspects) and her occasionally irrational behaviour and unpredictable moods had not changed the fact that Seijuro had seen someone worth befriending in her.
It certainly was not a question of his popularity, if the number of girls clamouring to be his project partners was an indication. And she supposed that the stack of candygrams and love letters he found in his locker on Valentine's day months ago spoke for themselves. He did have other options – plenty of them – and the fact that he would kindly turn down their offers in order to be paired with her warmed her heart.
Breaks with him and the other regulars initially had her feeling like an intruder in a tight-knit clique. She was permanently on the watch for any hints of distaste directed towards her, harbouring an intense fear of being shunned and discarded. When she saw the way Seijuro interacted with his teammates, light-hearted and warm, she gradually opened up to them just as he had done, and they embraced her with open arms.
"Eru-chin?" A packet of her favourite strawberry pocky was extended towards her.
"Eh, Murasakibara-cchi! How come you're sharing with Eru-cchi? You never let me have any!"
"Oi Kise, it's your fault Nanase isn't irritating like you." Aomine Daiki certainly had a way with words. At their childish banter, Seijuro caught her eye before letting out an amused snort.
Events did not have to be extravagant or a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence to be remembered. Sometimes, it was the routinely occurrences – the way Murasakibara refused to share his food with anyone but her, or how Aomine had a perpetual frown that occasionally slipped to reveal a brilliant smile – that were truly captured in one's mind forever.
She had first noticed Seijuro's slight shifts in moods when she had spoken rather discontentedly about Haizaki's unruly behaviour. His voice become a degree colder and there was an undoubtedly menacing aura surrounding him as he spoke of "removing" Haizaki from the team. She had quickly dismissed it as the result of a bad day, and decided against approaching Seijuro on that subject. That was in February.
By May, it was clear to her that his mood swings were becoming more and more prominent. It was beginning to look a lot less like mood swings, and more like he had a split personality. For the most part, he was still the reserved and kind person who exuded intelligence. But he was starting to frown upon people disobeying his orders – his eyes would adopt a cold gleam that sent shivers down his victims' spines.
Seijuro had yet to turn that calculating glare towards her, and that innate streak of selfishness within her prevented her from questioning his alternate nature. Eru decided to allow things to follow its natural course - shogi during breaks and club meetings in the afternoon. There was far too much to risk, especially since probing might instigate a change in their relationship. This was how things always were; this was how things should remain.
