Chapter Four
Worries and Bicycles
It was a calm Sunday morning that cast a pale orange color through her window. Summer was beginning to fade and the winds were picking up, although it wasn't quite cold yet. Kyouren sat up in her bed, staring at the pressed uniform hanging over the back of her chair. Nitta-san had ironed out the short sleeved blouse, the light blue vest, and the pleated sky blue skirt that was her summer uniform. Her step-father had called her on Saturday, asking her if she needed anything for school. His voice still sounded hollow, although he had tried to cover it up with forced cheerfulness. He wasn't a particularly talkative man, but their phone conversation had seemed unusually stiff and silent. She knew he wanted to ask her if she found Sakuragi Hanamichi– but he hadn't, and the conversation had ended with him telling her he had sent her extra spending money for her school supplies. Her thanks had sounded strained, though she didn't mean to sound ungrateful.
The school had sent them their class assignments that week. Kyouren was delighted because she and Haruko were in the same class and to her uneasiness, Rukawa as well, as Nitta-san informed her. Every time she saw him walk past her in the mornings with rumpled hair and pajamas, or sat facing him at dinner, she felt a little uneasy. The guilt of knowing his troubled past pressed her to be unusually silent and uncomfortable towards him, although she tried to smile at the rare occasion when he glanced at her. If anything she tried to hold her temper.
Though she disliked his silent disregard for the people around him, she discovered that it wasn't pure arrogance that drove him to be quiet. He had lived alone most his life, and seemed unused to being around someone his age, especially someone just across the hall from him. As Nitta-san had said, he was unusually neat, quiet, and well behaved, though he was seldom home. He slept through the morning, went to basketball practice, stayed out practicing almost till nightfall, then returned home for dinner. He even helped clear the dishes for Nitta-san, always treating her respectfully.
In the month Kyouren had been in Kanagawa, she had never seen Mr. Rukawa. She sometimes overheard Nitta-san conversing with him in hushed tones, but beyond that he was a mystery.
She glanced at the clock on her wall– it was half past six in the morning she had been up for the past two hours, but she wasn't sleepy. The name Sakuragi Hanamichi rang in her ears, the letters stamped on her brain, her head aching as it pondered the human form of that name. At one point she took out her long neglected journal to collect her thoughts and write an entry, but she found her pen tracing the words, "Sakuragi" all along the first page. Sakuragi Hanamichi.. Sakuragi Kyouren..In frustration she had thrown the journal to the floor with a wild shrill, before clamping her mouth shut. There was no need to wake the household. She wondered for a while if she should change her registered name on the school papers, from Itou to Sakuragi.
"Ayako would definitely catch on." She muttered, remembering the curious looks Ayako sometimes gave her. Her curly haired senpai had stared at her contemplatively during practice yesterday, when she had tried to casually bring up Sakuragi Hanamichi.
Shaking the ridiculous notion off, she stood up to take a shower, her feet stepping on the journal on the floor. She hastily shoved it under her covers as she made her way out. She glanced at Rukawa's door as she slipped into the bathroom. He would be fast asleep, he didn't seem like a morning person. She changed into comfortable faded jeans and a ribbed aqua tank top, rubbing her long, wet hair with a towel as she slumped down the stairs. She heard some movement in the kitchen and the humming of Mrs. Nitta preparing breakfast.
"Ohayo Nitta-san." She said cheerfully, receiving a warm smile in return.
"It's good to see you two waking up early, just in time for school." Mrs. Nitta chuckled, stirring a pot of soup.
Kyouren glanced in mild surprise at the living area. Rukawa sat on the cream colored leather couch, half dozing in front of the TV. A basketball game was being televised on one of the sports channels. He was dressed in a blue hooded-sweatshirt and basketball shorts. She glanced at the clock– it was only seven.
Refusing to retreat back to her room, she sauntered into the kitchen offering to help the elderly housekeeper. Mrs. Nitta, to her dismay, shooed her out of her kitchen when she nearly chopped off her own finger while dicing tofu for the soup. She reluctantly made her way to the sofa, edging as far away from the dozing Rukawa as possible. He didn't seem to notice her as his eyes, half glazed over were glued to the TV screen.
"Why are you up so early?"
The muttered question caught her off guard. She glanced at her companion, who's eyes were nearly tiny blinking dots in his head. She wondered that those intense blue eyes could look so dismal.
"Just.. Excited for school." she replied hastily, and it was partly the truth. She shot a quick glance at her silent companion, and nearly fell over. He was fast asleep, snoring softly, his head collapsed against the sofa.
When breakfast was ready, Kyouren had to shake him roughly awake, since tapping and calling his name didn't seem to work. She flinched visibly when he aimed a sleepy, yet frosty glare at her for waking him.
"It's breakfast time." She got out through clenched teeth.
He yawned in response, rubbing his mussed hair. She calmed her boiling temper, imagining a little Rukawa being beaten by bullies in her head.She relished that thought, and she took her place across from him at the table. The general clatter of spoons and chopsticks against the porcelain dishes filled the comfortable silence at the table. Rukawa never said much, but Nitta-san's motherly attentions made up for the lack of lengthy conversation, she prodded Kyouren's favorite pickles closer to her rice bowl, and asked motherly questions now and then.
"Kyouren-chan, are you going to be okay at school? How is your Japanese?" She asked while getting her a second helping of miso.
"Well.. I can read fairly well, but.." She reddened visibly. "I write like I'm drawing pictograms.. And I hardly know any kanji."
"Mou.. You'll learn in time." Nitta-san reassured her, patting her head fondly. "Rukawa-kun.. When are you getting your bicycle fixed?"
The front wheel of the bicycle was irreparably damaged after the last collision. Kyouren blushed remembering that episode, then hid a scowl as she glanced at Rukawa. She hadn't forgotten how he had run off, leaving her to fend for herself.
"After breakfast, Obaasan." he replied curtly, helping himself to some fish.
"Well then, perhaps you could take Kyouren-chan to the shop. She'll need a bicycle, schools a bit far of a walk in the mornings." Nitta-san advised, sagely.
Kyouren readied herself for the flat refusal, shoving a large morsel of rice in her mouth so she wouldn't be able to retort in anger. There was no way in hell Rukawa would escort her anywhere. She blanched when she heard the simple, "Hai.", nearly choking on her rice. Nitta-san patted her back with worry.
"Miss Itou.. You should take small bites." She cried, while Rukawa scraped the last of his rice, put his dishes in the sink, and returned to his game.
"H-hai.. Obaasan." She choked out, taking a large drink of chilled tea. Since when does he do anything remotely nice? She thought, taking a large gulp.
(5:30 AM that Morning)
Rukawa Kaede had been rudely awakened from sleep that morning, by a shrill yell and a thump of something on the ground next door. "Tansoku." He growled, tossing in his bed, trying to get back the precious few hours of sleep, but the sunlight was pouring through the curtains blinding him. In a deft movement, he kicked off his sheets, straightened his bed, and headed downstairs to take his rest on the couch.
The girl had been moving around in her room, sighing and pacing all night. It was driving him crazy. He had half a mind to open her door and cuff her with a pillow, but he knew better than that– she would retaliate and keep him up even longer. As he crept downstairs, not wanting to wake Nitta-san his ears picked up the fuzzy sound of muted conversation emanating from the kitchen.
"..Yes.. I'm perfectly well.. Yes, the new girl is doing fine. She's quite a lively thing.." Mrs. Nitta chuckled into the phone.
Rukawa pondered whether he should walk back to his room. He didn't like eavesdropping on anyone's conversation, but he didn't see any harm in waiting until she finished the innocent conversation so he could take his rest at the couch. Nitta-san's only daughter often called in the mornings to inquire after her mother. He stood stalk still at the foot of the stairs, dozing slightly as the conversation carried on.
"Oh dear no– she's well behaved.. I'm growing quite fond of her, poor girl."
Rukawa's eyebrows twitched. Poor girl? From what he could see that girl was spoiled to her hearts content. She was waited on hand and foot by Nitta-san, she had plenty of money from her father, since she was always treating the entire basketball team to ice cream and sports drinks. There wasn't a poor thing about her.
"..Mr. Rukawa told me her mother recently passed away.. And I think she's come to Japan looking for a family member. Her paternal father passed away long ago.. Poor thing, orphaned so young."
Now he regretted standing there. He didn't feel comfortable knowing too much about people. The knowledge made him feel chained, abdominally linked to the person in someway, which really irritated him. He retreated back upstairs, and hesitated before his room. He suddenly didn't feel so sleepy. Sighing he turned around, and headed to the bathroom.
Might as well get ready for the day.
At eight fifteen Rukawa tapped on her door, startling her as she made her bed. He muttered that the shop opened in fifteen minutes, and he would wait five minutes for her before slamming the door shut in her face. She was so startled that he had kept his promise, she forgot to get angry at his rudeness. She quickly draped a white cardigan around her tank top and shuffled downstairs, grabbing her wallet.
Rukawa was waiting near the door, putting on his basketball shoes and picking up his gym bag. Wordlessly the two stepped out into the sunlight.
The shop was a rickety little place next to an ice-cream parlor. It looked fairly run down, but in front of it were rows and rows of gleaming bicycles. The ceilings were hung with black wheels, an elderly man with grey streaks in his smooth black hair sat at the counter, while his son dressed in a grey working clothes tinkered in the back. Rukawa had dragged his damaged red bicycle all the way from the house, and took it to the young man, who looked taken aback.
"Again.. Rukawa-kun? That's the fifth time this year! It's quite dangerous crashing about like that." He cried, reaching down to inspect the chipped front.
"Sumimasen." He replied nonchalantly, while the old man chuckled from his counter.
Kyouren busied herself looking looking at the bicycles in front. Several were rather sporty like Rukawa's. She hadn't been on a bicycle since she was ten. Especially not in crowded areas like the streets of Kanagawa. She nervously ran her hands over the handlebars, wondering how to decide which one was for her.
"Ah.. Rukawa-kun, does your friend need help?"
Kyouren looked up to see the elderly man walking up to her, smiling in a friendly manner.
"H-ai..Ono-san." She guessed that was the man's name, since the sign above read 'Ono's Cycling Shop.' She added a slight bow which seemed to please the man, his eyes nearly disappeared into his face as he smiled.
"You certainly have a pretty girlfriend Rukawa-kun." He chuckled, to which both Rukawa and Kyouren protested.
"She's not–"
"He's not–"
Kyouren glanced at Rukawa, who looked displeased, his lips twitching at the corners. She cleared her throat, taking the pause to clarify.
"We're just friends sir. I would like to purchase a bicycle.." He wasn't exactly her friend.. But it seemed the simplest way to describe their relationship. Rukawa was looking curiously at her, one dark brow quirked in question as if to say, Since when? She shrugged automatically, following the elderly man as he took out a few bicycles for her to try out. She mounted them warily, keeping one foot on the ground.
"Hmm.. Seems like you aren't used to cycling." The man mumbled to himself, adjusting the seats for her on a few other bikes. He watched her awkwardly pedal around the curb, wobbling slightly. "Perhaps you should try something less.. Sporty."
Kyouren watched as he disappeared around back. Rukawa-kun and the younger Ono-san were crouched over the red bike.
"Rukawa-kun, I'm going to need thirty minutes to straighten the fork and pump out a new tire." He clucked at the chipped and slightly bent fork. "I might even suggest getting a new bike. It seems you had a fatal collision."
".. I ran it into a fire hydrant." Rukawa muttered
"While he was napping.. And going downhill." Kyouren added.
Rukawa glowered at her from beneath his unruly black bangs, while the younger Ono-san shook his head in disbelief. "With that kind of impact, I'm surprised you're not hurt."
"Oh he's made of rock. He didn't even get scratched." Kyouren spoke, before realizing she was speaking her thoughts.
"Little Miss, why don't you try this one." The elder Ono-san interrupted, noting the blaze of lightning passing from the glares of Rukawa to Kyouren. He wheeled out a sunny yellow bicycle, with a white basket and a couple of sunflowers glued to the front. The white handlebars sprouted yellow streamers, and the brake cords were also yellow. Rukawa felt a sweatdrop forming on the back of his head. Absolutely ridicul-
"Kawaii! Kyouren exclaimed, running towards the girly bicycle. She hopped onto it– it had thicker tires than those professional grade ones, and she didn't need to adjust the seat, it was exactly fitted to her height. It looked like something she had ridden when she was ten, only taller. She grinned at the old man as she pedaled forward, still wobbling but feeling more confident.
"I'll take it Ono-san!" she said, watching as the elderly man chuckled. Rukawa and the younger Ono-san only stared, fat sweat drops rolling from behind their heads.
Kyouren paid for her bicycle at a bargain price, since it was slightly used. Then, exasperated by her companions silence as he sat at the curb waiting, she walked to the ice cream parlor next door.
Rukawa watched through glazed eyes as the formerly dismal girl walked out of the parlor, juggling four cones in her hands. She had been quiet and moody in the morning, but her face had suddenly burst into smiles, like the sun shining through a cloudy day. He blinked as she thrust a cone into his hands, then went about cheerily passing her little gifts to the two Ono-san's who thanked her heartily. He watched her lick the pink treat like a happy puppy. What a simpleton. He looked down at his cone warily.
"You better hurry. It's melting." She pointed out, her voice mildly irritated. The ice cream, a very blue color was starting to drip down his cone.
"What.. Is this?" he asked, watching the blue mess slide down the sugar cone.
"Blue Raspberry."
He licked experimentally. It was soft, sweet, tangy, and cold. "Not bad." He mumbled, while she smiled warmly at him. He looked away feeling strangely uncomfortable. Poor thing orphaned so young.. Nitta-san's telephone conversation rang through his head, he shook it off visibly.
"Is it finished yet? I need to get going Ono-san."
"Aa, Rukawa-kun. I've saved your bicycle." He wheeled the red bike experimentally, satisfied with its balance. "I've worked a miracle, but be careful. The next time you'll need a new one."
"Arigatou." He replied, stepping to the counter to pay for the fix. As he left the shop, he found Kyouren comically circling the curb, testing out her ridiculous looking vehicle. Hoisting his gym bag and depositing it in the metal wire basket, he mounted his bike and pedaled off.
"Matte.. Rukawa-kun!"
He heard her shout behind him, could picture her wobbling dangerously down the road. But he ignored her feeble shouts, seeing as he had kept his promise. The slightest pang of guilt stabbed his conscience, but he stomped it out.
He had to get to the court.
At 1:50 Kyouren was racing her bicycle to Shohoku High school, yelping as she swerved erratically on the sidewalk. The yellow streamers billowed in the wind, rustling cheerfully. After Rukawa had left her, she had gone to the park to practice riding on the grass, lest she scrape her knees. She was especially grateful at that hour only the pigeons were witness to her silly behavior. She had gotten better– her balance was improving, although she was still getting the hang of pedaling uphill.
She glided across the cement, feeling the wind blow against her sweaty face. She noticed two figures walking ahead of her towards the gymnasium. One was Miyagi, with the distinct mushroom shaped head and short stature, the other she couldn't quite fathom but she let out a shrill greeting of sheer delight.
"Miyagi-san! Konichiwa!"
Miyagi turned from walking, to watch the genki-girl wheel towards them on a blinding yellow bicycle. She nearly fell off her bike as she braked too quickly, her bike almost nose diving and throwing the rider. He couldn't help laughing as he watched her awkwardly untangle her petite limbs from the vehicle.
"Hey there Kyouren-san. Is that new?" He asked, pointing.
"Hai! What do you think?" She grinned, proudly displaying her new ride.
"It's hideous." A voice replied.
Miyagi watched the warm grin melt and solidify into a solid glare. It was frightening how quickly the girls emotions changed, and how apparent they were on her features. She couldn't hide her feelings if her life depended on it.
Rukawa was surveying the bike as if inspecting it, finally nudging it with his foot. Kyouren stood behind it like a proud breeder showing off her thoroughbred horse.
"It's so yellow.. You can't look directly at it in daylight. It'll blind you." He added, blocking the glare from his vision.
"I didn't ask you Rukawa." Kyouren replied as civilly as she could. After all, he had helped her find the shop, even though he had abandoned her there, yet again. "Miyagi-san, it's beautiful isn't it?" She asked, face full of sunshine once more.
Miyagi searched for the right words, he was a terrible liar. "Mou.. It's.. very.. yellow Kyouren-san." He offered, rubbing the back of his head. To his relief she merely smiled, wheeling it towards the bicycle racks to park it near Rukawa's red bicycle. She raised a foot towards the red bike, as if aiming to kick, but thought better of it and restrained herself. Miyagi turned back towards the gymnasium, shaking his head. It was strange how much she reminded him of Sakuragi. Simple, high-tempered, easily upset, but easily appeased. It didn't help that she seemed to have a natural animosity towards Rukawa.
He looked up at his junior, whose expression was just as frozen as always. But his lips– were they twitching? He stopped at the door, frozen almost with shock. Was Rukawa actually stopping a smile?
"..Captain..?"
The question broke him out of his reverie, knocking him to his senses. He was gaping open mouthed at Rukawa Kaede, and the sophomore looked slightly miffed.
"Miyagi-san, aren't you going in?" Kyouren chirped behind them, since they were blocking the entry way. She watched puzzled, as the short captain glanced at Rukawa, then at her, then glanced back at Rukawa again.
"Ryouta? Aren't you going to start practice?" Ayako queried from inside the gymnasium, fan clutched in one hand. That knocked Miyagi back to reality, as he trotted happily into the locker room, his eyes full of hearts, forgetting what had puzzled him exceedingly.
Rukawa followed, but not before sharing a brief puzzled glance with Kyouren. She shrugged at him, taking her place by Ayako and Haruko, who welcomed her with cheerful smiles.
The rest of the afternoon was spent watching practice and chatting with the girls about Shohoku High school. After practice Kyouren had a delightful lunch, shopped for school supplies, and gossiped with her girls, before wheeling herself home.
It wasn't until she was under the covers, and dislodged her journal from her abdomen, that she remembered her worries.
