I truly, truly apologize for not updating sooner. I've been preoccupied between cleaning the house and downloading anime. Besides that, I couldn't use the net; my sisters are online rpg game addicts and refused to let me use the pc, most of the time.

So, now I've found the opportunity to update. I hope, dear readers, that you won't get mad at me.

Thank you for the past chaps reviews! Though I felt that that last one was pretty unsatisfactory. Somehow, I feel the same for this one. The chars are quite OOC here, sorry. At least, I feel that they are. (sigh) I think this is due to lack of inspiration. Anyways, just tell me how you think at the end of the chapter, neh?

Disclaimer: The usual. Of course I don't own Gokusen! Even if I dream it up or make a hand stand, or do the hoola dance, it won't be.

Please sit back, read, and enjoy!

Muddled Thoughts, Doubts, and Hurdles

"Whoot! Hottie!"

"Look here, miss!"

"Big knobs yah got there—hekhek!"

A nerve twitched involuntarily at Kumiko's temple as she grinded her teeth. It was really embarrassing! "Why must you wear such a skimpy skirt?" she demanded of the voluptuous blonde co-teacher sashaying easily beside her.

"Hm? Is there a problem?" asked Fujiyama innocently. Eyebrows quivering in annoyance, Kumiko gestured to the male population gathered from the sides of the street. Much to her annoyance, her companion merely laughed at her irritation. "Oh, that? I'm so used to it so much I no longer notice! Ho-ho-ho!"

"Great!" The black haired woman smacked her forehead in utter exasperation. "How in the world are you gonna help me with shopping with people ogling at you like a new zoo animal! And why must you pair that skirt with a—piece of cloth?" she added pointing to the triangular scarf that Fujiyama wore over her colorful bra.

"Don't mind them! They aren't gawking at you, you know. And this 'piece of cloth' as you haughtily put it, is what you call summer fashion. I happen to like being fashionable." Unlike someone I know!

Kumiko rolled her eyes, perceiving the implied thoughts, as the blonde scrunched her nose at her own usual jogging outfit. Instead of the customary pig-tails, her hair was pinned up in a very limp bun which made her look more commonplace than usual. "And isn't that why I hired you? I really don't know what to wear for tonight."

Fujiyama narrowed her eyes slyly and purred. "Heehee. Depends on whether you plan to get laid or not."

"What? That's not—that's—" she spluttered. "It's just a date! A first date, actually…"

"Hmm, is it with Sawada?"

She spluttered even more. "What the hell gave you that idea?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just saying that Shin is a pretty cool guy if you try not to think of him as a lil' boy. They will be graduating soon."

"And…?"

The teacher spun at Kumiko with an astonished expression on her face. "I mean it's a chance! Don't you notice anything? That stud of yours is a hotsie—I'd be getting him for myself if he weren't so interested in you."

"He is still my student! And for the thousandth time, he is not interested in me!" The statement sounded lame, even to her ears. It made her grumpier. Rounding at her companion's male fanclub, she exploded, devil-fashion. "And you pathetic ass-wits! If yah don't quit following us, I'll kick yer damned groins till kingdom come! Now scram!" Even hardened people would quiver at her fiery temper; they quickly backed and dissipated, muttering about freaky women in glasses.

"Really, if you keep that up you'll end up an old maid," clucked Fujiyama, quite used to her companion's strange, violent outbursts to care; the amount of yakuza movies must've addled her brain cells. "I wonder what's with you that kinked up Sawada…"

"Hey! Are you listening? There's—"

But something caught Fujiyama's attention and she waved ahead. "Well, well! Talk of the devil."

Breath hitched momentarily at Kumiko's throat as she mechanically turned sideways. As their eyes met, her insides lurched nervously. The strange pain she had forced to dull seemed to sharpen with vengeance. Her heart seemed to thrum with uncharacteristic rabbit-like tension, drowning all other sounds and noises, even colors. Their last conversation, three weeks ago, seemed to ring in her ears until she could finally see it vividly and clearly as it happened…

"Your date will be tomorrow?" Shin had inquired casually. They were on the rooftop, peacefully watching the thick stratus formation. Kumiko started at the sudden turn of conversation but answered nonetheless.

"Cancelled," when he looked at her in surprise, she answered softly. "He had some business to attend to. Anyways, I thought you'd still be sick and agreed." He looked at her questioningly and she added. "I'm not sure I'd want to go off with you being sick and all."

"Ah…" His face was unreadable. "I just thought…"

"Thought what?"

"…nothing."

With a thought, she added. "Drink lotsa water and pineapple juice—don't forget."

"Like I'll ever forget!" he snorted. "My fridge's full of that crap 'coz of you."

"Hn. Just to be sure my li'l boy dun get sick no more," she grinned teasingly. The conversation, it seemed for a moment, had been steered from the original topic. But the redhead cottoned to it immediately.

"About your date…"

"Oh. Yeah. About that. Well. As I said, he has a meeting. I dunno what it's about. Just came up, see." She frowned momentarily; Shin gave her a look over.

"Are you…disappointed?" he asked hesitantly.

"No, not really," she murmured honestly. Shin stared at her again, and her face warmed. Hurriedly, she added. "Anyways—I'd still have to agree no matter what. I can't interfere with his work—business is business."

His voice was tight as he spoke. "Your point being…?"

What was her point exactly? Did she even want to point out something? The beauty unfolding in the sky was distracting but as the meaning of her own words registered in her mind she felt suddenly anxious. This was the opening she had been waiting for, but she didn't exactly plan it to be like this either. She peered at his intent expression, all distractions were forgotten. "I mean he has to work first. And—and you know, between personal things and business, you choose business first 'coz that's important—coz personal things should not mix with non-personal things—like—like—"

"You and Shinohara?"

"Yes, and—

"Teachers and students?"

"Right—I mean, no! That's not it!" How did this happen? She felt trapped. Why did her reasoning sound dull and unconvincing? It used to be easy to talk down on him, to insinuate her superiority even when she was wrong. Why now? "Teachers and students are very personal things—both affect each other; growing, side by side in knowledge, experience and—and—"

"Love."

"Yes…could be that, too," she whispered almost inaudibly. Her hands gripped the metal railing.

For a moment, she thought it was done when he suddenly asked. "I wonder…what do you feel about teachers and students—is it possible for love between them?" Every bone in his body seemed tense. Suddenly, she realized that she was tensing up, too."

"There is love—familial love." He stiffened at her words; she bit her lower lip and went on despite the irrational screaming in her head. "But beyond that is also beyond the ethical laws. There are boundaries—"

"Huh. Boundaries. Is that really just it? Or am I still too much of a boy to you, Yamaguchi?" He spat bitterly.

"I'm not—we're not talking about us!"

"Then what the hell are we talking about? Tell me, am I still a hundred years away from you?"

"That is one of the many boundaries—"

"Bullshit. You didn't seem to care when I kissed you. Or do you need reminding?"

"Don't you dare!" she gritted eyeing him dangerously. Taking a deep breath, she said in a controlled manner. "Sawada, I know you're through a rough patch of teenage crap but I suggest you get over this—this infatuation you're having."

Shin threw his head back like a wounded stag, disbelief written all over his face. "After all—everything—you think I'm just going through teenage angst? And that I'm fucking infatuated—"

"Well, what do you want me to call it?" she was shaking all over now. The words were spilling from her, even when she didn't mean it. At that moment, the most necessary thing was to defend herself from that unknown thing numbing her insides; and if that meant grabbing any jabbing and ludicrous idea and hurling it, then she would. "You are young, Sawada. There are six years worth of life and experience between us. Your interest in me and my family must have affected you—deluding you to mistake admiration for love."

"Do you still know what you're saying? 'Cause I think you don't!"

"I don't!" she shouted. Kumiko breathed sharply and continued. "I don't know anymore! You're confusing me, and I hate you!"

"I'm confusing you? You're the one I can't understand—you go around kissing your damned lawyer, discussing your relationship with him—pretending that there's nothing between us when there damn is—"

"There is nothing between us!"

"Deny it all you want but you can't deny that we kissed—"

"You started the kissing! You initiated!"

"And you reacted!" Shin was really angry now. He looked as though he wanted to wring some sense into her. "I kissed you, and you kissed me back! You wanted it—you wanted me, too!"

"Damn you!" she hissed. "I hate you."

He stepped closed to her and whispered in a tone which made her shiver. "How sure are you?"

An arm—his arm—suddenly snaked around her shoulders. Shin's jaw was pressed urgently against her cheekbone. The words were gone from her throat; her body was frozen. "You rescued me from my dad, welcomed me in your family, helped me in dozens of scrapes, stayed with me every time in this rooftop. We've always understood each other, taken care of each other these past months, held each other. I've kissed you—twice, and you kissed back both times. And you tell me you hate me. I wonder how you love some one."

"Bastard," she croaked through bone-dry throat. He chuckled ironically. The sound hurt her ears.

"Boundaries…" he uttered softly against her. The muscles of her neck tensed, sending pricking sensations to her eyelids.

"Damn it, Yamaguchi. I already know that," His mouth was pressed earnestly on her hair. The pleading in his voice seemed to wrench her heart. "I know. But I wish that I could forget they exist."

I want that, too, she wanted to blurt. Instead, Kumiko stayed her tongue as he breathed softly against her hair again.

"Don't say anything anymore. After all—there is nothing, is there?" He pulled back and looked at her strangely, almost hopefully; unwanted tears slid down her cheeks. But she wetted her lips and lowered her eyes as she whispered the fatal words.

"No. There is nothing—after all."

And with a final sigh, Shin retreated and left the rooftop. It rained soon after that. She stayed longer; the coldness in her heart was something not even the strong pellets of water could penetrate. "Shin…"

A hand waved in front of her and she jumped back with a yelp. Fujiyama looked at her with mingled curiosity and amusement. "What happened to you—you were staring at Shin as though he's a ghost!"

"A-ah! Nothing! I just—just remembered something. What were you saying?" she said, giving her full focus to Fujiyama.

"I was saying that we might need a male audience to comment on the clothes you'll be wearing—so I just asked Sawada here—" and with that she pulled the redhead eagerly close to her large bosom. "—to come with us!"

"Sawada—come…with us…?" The world seemed to spin out of focus. What had she done to deserve this? She breathed in to calm her nerves but her answer deviated from serenity. "WHAT!"

Fujiyama bubbled on musically. "Yes, I know! Isn't that wonderful! Ho-ho-ho!"

"But—but—" Kumiko Yamaguchi looked at Shin, who was vainly prying himself off Fujiyama. "Are you sure…you want to come?"

Shin rolled his eyes and she had to smile in spite of herself. "Not that I have a choice."

"Ex-ce-llent! Let's go!" With that, Fujiyama marched on energetically leaving two sighing, trying hard not to bump into each other as they followed.

For the hundredth time, Shin slapped himself mentally. What the hell am I doing here? From the way Kumiko looked at him, he knew she was thinking of their last conversation three weeks ago. Since then, they carefully avoided each other; they amazingly never met during any of his sparring sessions with Kyou. It was from the older man that he learned that the well-celebrated date was moved thrice before settling to tonight's last day event on the visiting circus.

What was I to do? Forget that she's my teacher! She's Kuroda's ojou; I'm the son of a high ranking police officer! Even without that hindrance, there was that damned lawyer, too…

Don't excuse your cowardice. Admit it, answered his conscience. You were afraid—you didn't want to be rejected so you turned tail.

Was he really afraid? Perhaps, there was that, too. He was never a person to hope for too much. He grew up knowing how expectations could fall into the most painful failures. He was sure of how he felt for her; could he be sure of what she felt for him? With Shinohara around, everything was uncertain.

I can't interfere with her. It's wrong to confuse her—she wants Shinohara, not me. I don't want to betray Kuroda. It was hard but—

"Sooo, what do you think, Sawada-san?" Something sheer and red was suddenly flaunted between his eyes, jumping him back to present.

"That—that is…" Words failed him; he flushed somewhat.

"Fujiyama-sensei! I'm not planning to seduce anyone!" choked Kumiko, turning red and white alternately.

"Why not?" The blonde retorted innocently, dangling the stringy, lacey T-back with two fingers. "And this isn't for seducing—this is so you have nice looking lingerie for when you finally—"

"For the last time, I am not planning to get laid!" Kumiko looked like an aggravated blowfish; the hair sticking out of the matronly bun she wore today seemed to promote the idea further. Shin couldn't help but chuckle in spite of himself, which earned him dagger-glares from the petite woman. "And whatever I do wear under my garments isn't the issue today. Maybe I should just wear a traditional kimono…"

"Do you seriously want a disaster?!" came Fujiyama's shocked tone. Shaking her head, she continued. "I'm not gonna make you walk around on just undies—personally, I think you need something more simple than glamorous…. What do you think, Sawada-san?"

Shin frowned for a moment, looking at Kumiko (who blushed immediately under his stare). He wasn't sure if he wanted to give the woman she loves advice on her dating clothes. But he had promised not to get in her way—that meant staying the good friend and student. Also meant being impartial and unbiased. He hesitated before mumbling softly. "You're right, Fujiyama-sensei. She needs something simple to bring out her natural looks. If—if I were the man she was dating—" He eyed her intensely. Kumiko looked away. "—I'd prefer her wearing something which would be more comfortable, since we'd be going to a carnival. A couple of jeans and a casual top—if you could live without your glasses, it'd be nice, too. And," with a breath he didn't know he had been holding, he added. "I'd like to have you with your hair down."

There was a pregnant pause. Shin resisted the urge to punch himself. He felt he had gone too far. What if Fujiyama gets the hint? He reddened slightly and added hurriedly. "That is—of course—if I were the guy."

"Sawada, you—" murmured Kumiko.

"That's it!" cried Fujiyama gleefully. Walking to one stack of clothes, she pulled and studied some outfits. "Lemme see…this one, and here, Yamaguchi-sensei! I found the perfect set for you!" The blonde pushed her partner inside a changing cubicle. "Hurry with that!"

"All right, all right!" she screamed from inside.

Then, the two sat on waiting benches. Five minutes passed in separate reverie when Fujiyama broke the silence.

"Thanks for riding with my whims eh, Sawada-san," said the music teacher softly.

"Ah." It's not like I could refuse.

"You'll be graduating in a few months." He did not answer; she plunged on. "Do you already have some plans?"

He shrugged. "The usual, probably. College."

"Will that make you happy?"

The question surprised him. Why was the usually bubbly teacher interrogating him anyway? Honestly, he answered. "I don't know."

Leaning forward, she murmured gently. "Do that then. Go to college. But..." A sympathetic look passed through her face. "Don't run away. You know what I mean."

Sawada was dumbfounded. Was he that obvious? Was Yamaguchi that dense—that every one but her could read through his feelings? Deciding to act as if he didn't understand, he opened his mouth to speak when Kumiko came out.

The pale blue jeans fitted her lean, muscular legs perfectly. Ragged-styled, stitched button-holes and colorful beads were scattered stylishly back to front, from her thighs to her legs. It was partnered with a white unbuttoned stretch denim jacket, easily showing the army tank-top she wore beneath. For footwear, black boots peeped from the hem of her jeans. It was ideal.

Hanging her head embarrassedly at them, Kumiko murmured uncertainly. "So, how do I look?"

"That's perfect, Yamaguchi-sensei!" said Fujiyama, shocked.

"Not yet." Unable to resist the urge, Shin shortened the space between them until he was towering over her. Before she could protest, he pulled her hair from the limp bun, allowing it to cascade gracefully below her shoulders. Carefully, he plucked off her glasses. Smiling impishly at the surprise on her face, he murmured. "Now, this is perfect."

Kumiko blushed. They didn't move from their places, simply staring at each other. Looking to and fro the couple, Fujiyama sighed and grinned. "Well, I have to go somewhere…"

Waking from reverie, Kumiko shouted in panic. "W-wait, Fujiyama-sensei! Why—"

"Don't worry. Just pay that and have it wrapped. You have Shin with you anyways. Take care of her, eh, Sawada?" Before any of them could answer, the blonde winked slyly and escaped.

"That—that fox!" cried Kumiko shrilly.

"Hmph. She didn't have to tell me," muttered Shin.

"What?"

"Nothing…"

They were silent, but they were not uncomfortable. Breathing in, Kumiko said. "Listen, Sawada—I mean, Shin. I know I said a lot of crap, and—"

"Let's not talk about this," he said shortly.

"But—"

"That won't change anything. It's okay. Don't worry. We're still friends."

With a relieved sigh, she rested her forehead against his chest on impulse. "That's good to hear, I think."

He lifted his hand to stroke her hair and almost groaned. Dammit. So near yet so far… But remembering Fujiyama's encouragement, he smiled. The path was clearer now.

Guilty about how comfortable she was feeling with him, she slowly pulled back. "I gotta have these wrapped." As she motioned for the cubicle, Shin's hand caught hers.

"Let's go for an ice cream, later. There's still time anyway. Is it okay?" he added, almost afraid of her answer.

With a genuine smile which fluttered his insides, she replied. "I'm game."

Thirty minutes later, they were strolling downtown, shopping bags swaying as they chatted happily. The past weeks were forgotten again. For a moment, she had forgotten, and he had pretended, that they didn't have a rampant argument, that they were just normal friends, that their boundaries and problems were forgotten, that she wasn't having a date with Shinohara…

Fifteen more minutes. Both their ice creams were gone. But they continued their stroll, occasionally hiding from people from school that might suspect them, laughing at their escapades, passing the time as thought it didn't matter.

Another ten minutes later, they stopped walking and settled down into a deserted playground. They sat on separate swings, silently regarding the sky. They've exhausted the topics; the sun was setting, too. Reality slowly assimilated itself into them again. She was Kumiko Yamaguchi again, teacher and ojou of Kuroda. He was Shin Sawada, her student and also the son of a police commissioner.

A gentle breeze waded between them, assuaging them. Softly, Shin spoke. "Whatever is your choice, I'll be happy for you."

She didn't answer; he went on. "I told you before: I know the boundaries. But I will still be waiting, and I will be fighting. I will…fight for you until I win." The words sounded too corny, too unlike him, but he couldn't stop. "I'll only lose if you want me to."

"You know that Shinohara asked me to marry him."

"Have you answered?" It was rhetorical but he had to ask to make a point. "Do you still love him?"

There was still no answer and he immediately knew she was unsure. "Tonight, you have a date with him. It's a good chance…to confirm how you feel."

Kumiko raised her brow at him and scoffed. "You sound pretty sure of yourself."

"I'm not," he admitted bitterly.

"What if I do love him?" she challenged.

Raising a brow in return, he answered. "As long as you don't get married before I graduate, I won't stop trying." And if you do set a date before I graduation, I still won't stop.

The sun was completely down; the street lanterns lit up automatically. They took it as a cue to leave. Cupping her face, Shin murmured. "I hope you don't wear your hair down for him."

Smirking at his arrogance, she answered. "Don't worry. I will."

"Bitch," he hissed close to her mouth.

"Fucking bastard," she scowled into his lips, unable to withdraw from his contact. Kumiko relished the heat which coursed through their pinched bodies, headily arching her back towards him. To hell with rules! Shin tightly wound his arms around her, synchronizing his movements with hers. He forgot everything he had told her before. Nothing else mattered.

Suddenly angry with herself, with what she was feeling, with how irrationally she was acting, Kumiko wrenched herself away and wiped her lips disgustedly. "Dammit, Shin! I have a date—I'm going to see Shinohara! I feel like a two-timing dirty bitch. You asshole!"

"You wanted it, too," he smirked.

Muttering to herself about self-centered pricks, she turned tail, shopping bags flying with her. When she disappeared from view, Shin made his own trek home. He smiled to himself. Fujiyama was right: he really had been running away. The fight wasn't over—he won't back down yet if he could help it. He shook his head, as though to ward off any approaching moods and doubts. Somehow, he felt that the night's ordeal wasn't over yet.

He could not have been more right.

(sigh) I know it ain't good enough. But I'll make up for the next one. The next one'll definitely be better. So tell me, what do you think?

Trash?

Garbage?

Bollocks?

Please review! Thanks!