Tansoku : "Short legged"

Aitsu : rude way of saying "that guy" or "creep"

Busu : very rude, means "ugly"

Chapter Three

Something in Common

"Bakaaa.." Kyouren panted, her feet slapping the pavement in a headlong run. Rukawa's wayward bicycle was gaining momentum downhill, and with every step she felt painful shockwaves through her knees.

She wasn't quite sure why she was chasing him, or what she planned on doing. Blind rage had taken over Itou Kyouren, her field of vision narrowed to the dozing, mop-haired rider. Her brown eyes glowed like hot coals with frightening intensity.

Rukawa was quite oblivious. His limp hands let the handlebar twist and turn in every which direction, causing street walkers to jump out of his way, yelling insults that fell on literally deaf ears.

The beads of sweat trickled down from Kyouren's forehead. The hill was flattening out. Rukawa's wobbly bicycle was losing momentum. She grinned deviously, watching as the red bicycle headed straight for a hydrant.

CRASH!

She stopped ten feet from the scene, and watched with unbridled glee as the lithe form of Rukawa Kaede sailed through the air and landed head first on the sidewalk. His bicycle, front wheel bent sideways, fell with a shuddering smash on the street. Aitsu. That's KARMA for you. She thought, nodding up at the heavens.

She sauntered over to the scene, her expression as bright as the sun. "Oi.. Rukawa. That was very graceful." She teased, nudging him with the point of her running shoes. No movement. "HEY..Aitsu!" He still didn't budge. She was suddenly very worried.

"Anou.. Rukawa-kun." She kneeled over him, shaking his back gently. I need an ambulance! The scuffle of sneakers on the pavement sent her jumping back in surprise.

Rukawa sat up suddenly, eyes squinting up at the sun. Kyouren stared at him incredulously. That BAKA.. He was still sleeping? He was barely scratched. In fact, the injured was getting up to take a look at his bent bicycle.

"Rukawa.. you're not hurt..?" She asked, almost wishing he was, just a little.

He looked at her strangely completely ignoring her question. "Why are you following me tansoku..? You're not a stalker are you?" he asked, turning to fiddle with his bike.

"Tansoku? Stalker?" she sputtered, former waves of rage descending on her. "Don't flatter yourself you idiotic.. barbaric.. self-absorbed, CLOD! I ran down here to make sure you weren't hurt. Now I wish that fall had knocked some good manners into you!" She yelled, but to no avail.

Fuming, she took deep even breaths trying to calm herself. She was so absorbed in this action, that she hadn't noticed Rukawa had left his bicycle to stand, over by the alley. Irritation folded her brow, biting her lip she stalked off after him, readying a new salvo of stinging words.

She turned to face him, but had to take a step back. His calm blue eyes were stormy, the lids under them quivering in a look of pure, menacing rage. Her eyes followed the path of his frosty glare, down to a dead end of an alley, where a group of pre-teen adolescents stood in a semi-circle.

"You dirty little orphan." The ringleader taunted, a boy with splotchy brown freckles. His little friends laughed with them, roughly shoving a pale looking boy with black hair. "You don't belong in this neighborhood.. Go live with the street urchins." They laughed, taking turns shoving him. The boy didn't budge, his head lowered, eerily quiet.

"Hey you brats! Leave him alone!" Kyouren yelled, rage spilling over her. She stalked up to the children, putting herself between the silent boy and the four children.

"Hey.. Who are you busu?" The ring leader asked, folding his arms over his chest.

"Busu..?" That was it. She had been abused enough today. Her hand closed over in a small fist and cracked the youngsters head with a satisfying knock. In a split second the boy was wailing, tears spilling down his pudgy cheeks. His friends complied, although they hadn't been touched.

"Nande? Hey.. Stop crying! I didn't hit you that hard!" She held up her hands defensively. Immediately from above a window opened on the third floor of the apartment complex. A young mother with a kerchief over her head peered out at the commotion.

"Goro! Why are you crying?" She exclaimed, her eyes darting accusingly at Kyouren.

"Mama.. She hit me!" The ringleader wailed, pointing to Kyouren.

"Who do you think you are, picking on innocent children!" The lady yelled, waving her hand threateningly.

"I.. I didn't mean to–"

"Are you some sort of girl gangster?" The lady yelled. "Stay right there, I'm coming down!" She cried, her head suddenly disappearing from the window.

"Demo.." Kyouren cried, panicking. She looked to the little black haired boy for support, but to her horror she found he had slipped off during the commotion. She looked down the alley for Rukawa, but he was gone, and so was the damaged bicycle.

"You ice block.. How dare you abandon me?" She cried, as her legs gained momentum and she sprinted towards home, never looking back.


Rukawa dragged his bike down the street, his hands white from gripping the handlebars. The front wheel was dysfunctional, so the rubber tire skid and bounced on the sidewalk, jolting erratically with his long strides.

His face was a frozen mask, but his eyes still held the traces of his earlier wrath, slanted in concentration. He walked, refusing to think, concentrating on getting to where he was going. He threw his bicycle down next to the rusted fencing, and entered the open court.

He gripped the basketball in one hand, bouncing it contemplatively. Spinning, his shoes skidded on the clay as he furiously dodged imaginary defenders, and with a gravity defying leap extended his hand for a perfect one handed dunk.

Not letting the ball drop to the floor, he gripped it in both hands, dribbled, and jumped back for a clean fade-away. He attacked the basket, concentrating on his position, his shot, his movements, refusing to think on anything else.

After an hour, he sat sprawled on the court exhausted, the ball still gripped in one hand. Letting the sweat drip down his forehead, carving a path through his face, he closed his eyes, too exhausted to think.

So he slept.


When Kyouren reached home Mrs. Nitta was waiting for her, holding a package in her hands. All she really wanted was to bury herself in blankets and hit her head against a wall until she could lose her memory, but since the old lady was so adamant she tried her best to pay attention.

"Miss Itou.. Your school uniform is here." She held up a navy blue jacket, a blouse, a thick neck ribbon, and a pleated grey-blue skirt. Kyouren eyed the ensemble, looking at the lady skeptically.

".. I have to wear a sailor suit to school?" She asked, scratching her head.

"I think it's very pretty. And when you step inside school, make sure you wear these instead of shoes." Mrs. Nitta held up some white slippers, confusing Kyouren even more.

"Obaasan.. we wear house slippers to school?" She asked, picking up the red ribbon and threading it through her fingers.

"Miss Itou, your school uniform is very important. You must take care to wear it every day.. Japanese schools are very strict."

"Hai Obaasan." Kyoren answered, only half listening. In her mind she was picturing herself running for her life down the street of Kanagawa. Her cheeks flushed red, and without warning she smashed her head against the wall. Mrs. Nitta's eyes widened.

"Miss Itou.. ..are you alright?"

"Hai Obaasaan." Kyouren replied miserably, hiding her head under the folds of her arms.

"Kyo-chan." Mrs. Nitta spoke in a warm voice, patting her head warmly. The endearment was comforting. Kyouren looked up, fighting the tears in her eyes. That's what mom used to call me. "I know you're having a rough time with Kaede-kun." Mrs. Nitta spoke softly, stroking her hair. "But don't let him make you miserable. He's a very unfortunate boy."

Kyouren had half a mind to open her mouth to tell her the true object of her misery– the episode with the angry mother, but the last phrase of Mrs. Nitta's caught her attention. Unfortunate.. Boy? She shut her lips, pretending to nod along.

"Kaede-kun came to this house as a very little boy. Only six, I think. He was always very quiet.." The old lady smoothed her pinned white hair, peering at the ceiling as if looking through her memories. "And he was always well behaved. He never shouted, he always cleaned up after himself.. And he never cried, whined, or pouted like children often do.. He was a very unnatural boy.."

"Nitta-san.." Kyouren whispered, wondering why she felt the need to quiet her voice. "Where is Rukawa-kun's mother..? Are his parents divorced?"

"I'm telling you this because I think you are a trustworthy girl." Mrs. Nitta spoke, looking sternly into Kyouren's eyes. "And I don't want you to misunderstand him."

"H-hai Obaasan."

"Rukawa-kun was adopted into this family by Mrs. Rukawa. But unfortunately, she passed away a few months after the adoption in a car accident. Mr. Rukawa didn't take much interest in the boy. He is seldom home because of business.. As much as I respect him, he isn't the best father.." Mrs. Nitta sighed, taking Kyouren's hands into her own. "That's why I'm asking you, Miss Itou.. To be his friend. Poor boy, I've never seen him bring a friend home..."

Kyouren barely heard the words coming out of Mrs. Nitta's mouth after that. She couldn't bring herself to realize, that the horrible, arrogant, and selfish Rukawa Kaede had something in common with herself.

He's an orphan too.


When Rukawa opened his eyes the sun was setting. The warm clay his back was resting on had cooled as the sun sunk below the horizon, it felt cold and clammy. In a few swift movements he gathered his gym bag and the fallen basketball, which had rolled down to the corner of the court. Stuffing it in his bag, he toted his bicycle and headed for home.

It was already eight when he pulled out his keys to unlock the front door. The smell of dinner greeted his senses, as well as the sound of soft snores coming from Mrs. Nitta's bedroom near the kitchen. The muted sound of the television also emanated from the living room. He noticed Kyouren staring blankly at the tv, dressed in plaid bottoms and an oversized t-shirt.

Sighing in annoyance, he tried to slip up the stairs but his movement caught her notice.

"Konbanwa Rukawa-kun!" She greeted in a half-hearted voice.

"Hn." he grunted in reply, turning for the stairs. He half expected her to chase him down, and lecture him. But he was relieved when he made up to his room, and he showered and collapsed into bed without hearing another word from her.


The summer weeks blew past with school commencing in a handful of days. Kyouren tried to be as civil to Rukawa as possible, but the youth simply ignored her, which was what irritated her the most, but a part of her pitied him. She knew what it felt like, to feel that you were alone in the world, without mother or father, and she reminded herself of that every time her eyes met those cold blue ones, stiff and silent.

She spent her days jogging and watching practice with Haruko and Ayako, admiring Mitsui-senpai. She was becoming very fond of the basketball team, she was even cordial to Rukawa-kun when she watched him play. Otherwise stiff and silent, on the court his passion for the game and the stirring of his emotions were visible. It made him seem more human to her.

Life in Kanagawa was so interesting and full of activity, so different from her somewhat secluded life in America Kyoren had almost forgotten about her important task.

The final Friday before school commenced, after basketball practice, his name dropped like a bombshell shattering the reality of her peaceful new life.

"Sakuragi is coming out this Monday?" Captain Miyagi asked, turning to a excited looking Haruko.

"Hai Captain!" Haruko replied, a genuine smile on her face. "He's fully recovered, and will be at practice after school this week!"

"Ah. .so the self-proclaimed tensai will return.. What a headache." Mistui groaned, although his expression was light.

"Anou.. Sakuragi..?" Kyouren whispered. Couldn't be.. Could it?

"Hai hai.. Sakuragi Hanamichi!" Ayako chuckled, unknowingly confirming her question.

"He's.. on this team?"

"Hai Ren-chan. Since last year. He suffered a back injury in one of our games, but he's going to be fine." Haruko sang, literally bursting with joy.

"Well.. what's for sure is practice is going to get a lot more interesting." Yasuda quipped, glancing at Rukawa, who was sitting with a towel over his head.

"do'ahou." Rukawa mumbled, before taking a sip of pocari sweat.

Normally, she would have demanded and explanation for the insult, but her mind had already left the building. The irony was killing her. Here she was, forgetting about her single most important task, because she was so immersed with hanging out with her brothers own friends.

"Come to think of it, Kyouren-san.." Miyagi rubbed his chin thoughtfully, choosing his words with care. "You.. kind of remind us of him." He glanced at Mitsui for support, but the ex-gangster was dousing himself with his water bottle.

"N-n-nani?" she stuttered.

"Well.. You lose your temper easily.. You tend to get a little violent.. The way you shout at Rukawa,.. it's uncanny.." Miyagi replied, tapping the list off his fingers.

Ayako scowled at Miyagi. "Oh shut up Ryouta.." She looked at Kyouren with concern, for her face was rapidly losing its color. "What's the matter Kyoren-chan.. Are you sick?"

"Iie Ayako-senpai. You know what.. I forgot I had something to do!" she yelled, before dashing out of the gym.

Shohoku basketball team, sat, blinking in the spray of dust left behind by their friends hasty retreat. Ayako shook her head, tapping her fan contemplatively against her hand. "There's more to Itou Kyoren that meets the eye." She muttered to herself, stroking her chin.

"Nani Aya-chan?" Miyagi asked, taking a swig from his bottle.

"I said that girl sure can run." She covered.

"That she can." he agreed.