The Freshman Diary of Tatewaki Kuno
By Red Dragonfly, aka Rebecca Lang
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Part 1
Spring and Summer
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. . .
Rain rapped steadily across the windowpane. Nabiki sighed and plopped onto her bed. Sunday afternoons were always boring, and this one especially so, given that Ranma and Akane had gone off and deprived the household of their loving and endlessly amusing bickering. For once, peace and quiet reigned.
Nabiki was running out of excuses not to sit down and do her homework.
She leaned over across the bedspread, until she was looking at her desk where her books lay piled in a neat stack. English. What a boring subject. Anything was better than that. Her black purse dangled off the back of her chair, fat and bulky, like a raincloud attached to a thin strap.
There was one thing she might do that promised to be more interesting than conjugating "to be" verbs. Nabiki reached for her purse and fished inside it until her hand hit the soft binding of a notebook. Smiling, she drew out Kuno's diary.
You know, considering how obsessed he was with fine arts and poetry and all that, she'd have expected his diary to have more dignity. Instead, it was a spiral bound, plastic-y thing, with a couple tulips and a swirly sun—one of those notebooks you'd get at a 100 yen store. Inside, though, seemed more like Kuno. His neat calligraphy swooped over the cheap paper in dark, clear strokes.
I shall never forget the feeling of destiny that swelled in my chest as I entered the halls of Furinkan Senior High School. I, Tatewaki Kuno, age 16—
Age 16? What the—? Nabiki checked the date. Freshman year? How far back did this thing go? She flipped through the pages. The diary ended right before their junior year began. Well, darn. A more recent diary might have been slightly more pertinent to her interests. Nabiki shrugged. Oh well. It was still better than English.
I, Tatewaki Kuno, age 16, am destined to become the shining star of this school. And why not? I have all that is necessary to ensure my rise: good looks, fierce athletic ability, devastating wit, a modest and pleasant personality. Maidens swoon at the very sight of me, and soon I shall select from amongst the loveliest, one who is worthy of dating.
A privilege that most certainly will not fall to Nabiki Tendo.
Nabiki's eyebrows rose. Weird. It wasn't like she'd been begging for a date, so why'd he mention her at all? She skimmed down and noticed that her name was peppered liberally in the paragraph below.
Nabiki Tendo is a relic from my junior high school days. Nabiki Tendo is cruel and ruthless. Nabiki Tendo glistens like the coils of a snake and hides venom in her tongue. As she proved today, when, upon swaggering into our homeroom class, she took one look at me and promptly burst into laughter. So much did she laugh, that I, with the blood rising to my cheeks, demanded to know what was so funny.
"You're the hot new guy all the girls are talking about? You?"
And why on earth was that worthy of laughter? Is Nabiki Tendo blind that she fails to see what a magnificent specimen I now pose?
She seemed blind our final year of junior high. By that time my hair had grown out from that hideous shave my father forced upon me and I had risen in stature and had gained the muscled build of a kendo master. All the other girls who had once tormented me about my appearance now conceded, with tearfully apology, that I was indeed handsome, strong, and worthy of praise.
But Nabiki will not relent and even today proceeds to mock me without remorse. Observe then, these next words she uttered, when I pointed out the indignity of her laughter:
"Oh, relax, Kuno-baby. You take everything so seriously."
Kuno-baby! Am I never to be rid of that insulting nickname?
As a single cloud might obstruct the sun, so has Nabiki Tendo diminished the glory of my entrance. Had she simply acknowledged my hard-won splendor, I might have forgiven her those three years of torment. But now her chance is lost. Nabiki Tendo, you shall forever be my one true enemy.
Wow. Who'd have thought one little laugh and a couple of off-the-cuff comments could inspire such feeling? Nabiki smiled to herself. That was Kuno, for you, always overreacting. It wasn't that she thought he was ugly. He was just so preening, like a rooster with his tail feathers sticking out—she couldn't help but laugh.
And as for the nickname, well, really, what was she supposed to call him? Just plain Kuno? That sounded like she'd never met him before. Tatewaki? Too intimate, like one of those doting, insipid schoolgirls. No, she liked Kuno-baby best, her own personal nickname for him.
But now she was really curious. Nabiki flipped through the pages. What else had he written about her? His fancy handwriting always seemed just a little darker whenever he wrote her name, as though the mere thought of her caused him to press down extra hard with his pen. He left several little snide comments tucked between rants about girls, kendo, and just how magnificent he was. But Nabiki had to go down another month before she found another juicy paragraph about her.
How is it that Nabiki Tendo has secured a date before I?
She smiled. Oh, yeah. She remembered that.
Granted, there are many lovely maidens competing for my affections, but I, being kind-hearted, am loathe to bestow my dotage on any one in particular and thus break the hearts of all the rest. Be that as it may, Nabiki Tendo has secured a date with an upperclassman and not just any, but the captain of the baseball team. Now how, I must wonder, did she manage that? She is not hideous to look upon, but she is no Venus in her bower. To ensnare such a star among the dross of this school—I cannot fathom it.
Really, it shouldn't have come as such a surprise. If he'd been paying any attention to her during their final days of junior high, he might have noticed that she'd been perfecting her flirtation techniques. The trick was to appear interested, but not too interested; to lure them in, but keep them at arms-length. Oddly enough, though, all of her tricks fell flat on Kuno. She couldn't say a single nice thing to him without him misconstruing it as an insult.
Nabiki turned the page.
I am not surprised that this courtship did not last, for it was quite uneven from the beginning. The captain of the baseball team is an honorable man, while Nabiki is cunning and crafty. It was only a matter of time before he came to his senses. What does surprise me is that, if the rumors are to be believed, she has broken up with him. I would think it inconceivable, except that she is quite cheerful, saying with a little shrug that some things just don't work out. In the meantime, the captain of the baseball team has been very upset and skipped practice, from what I hear. Frankly, it is puzzling.
A bad break-up that one. Nabiki pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Had she ever had a good break-up? No, not really. Most guys didn't like discovering they were being used. Then again, most guys didn't have a problem using her, either. They saw her as a good-looking girl, a prize they could hang off their coats and show off to their friends. Fine with her. But didn't they know that prizes cost money?
And Kuno was just as bad as the rest of them. Every week, he walked to class with a new girl at his side. They were all the same, too: pretty, doe-eyed, and simpering. It annoyed the hell out of Nabiki. None of those girls so much as asked him to pay for their lunch, even though Kuno could certainly afford it. No, they were the sort of girls content to bathe in his radiance, utterly in awe of this handsome new freshman who was so skilled at martial arts and so good with words. Poor little idiots. Kuno didn't even bother to write their names in his diary. Instead, he seemed much more interested in Nabiki's dating life.
In May, he wrote:
Nabiki Tendo has the most atrocious choice in men. All the upperclassmen groveling at her feet, and she plucked up some quiet and obscure freshmen to be her boyfriend. He has absolutely no note-worthy qualities, other than the propensity for very publicly showering her with gifts. I'm not surprised it ended badly. This time, Nabiki's newest ex-suitor has yet to come back to school. It is as though the shame is too great for him to bear. I must wonder: what exactly has she done to him?
In June:
Why is it that, with each subsequent conquest, Nabiki Tendo's reputation seems only to grow? This makes three men who have fallen at her feet. None of them have yet to recover from their heartbreak, nor will say anything about what happen. Truly, Nabiki Tendo is a cruel-hearted maiden. Why she, of all people, sends men into a mad frenzy, is a complete mystery to me. Although, I must admit, there is a certain danger about dating Nabiki Tendo that makes her alluring. Only the boldest of men dare try. I, myself, would not shirk to date her, if she were not my foresworn enemy.
In July:
I happened to pass by the café where Nabiki Tendo and her current suitor—a boy from a different school—partook of their date. I was startled by the transformation that came over her. Nabiki has always struck me as teasing and impudent, but here, these qualities changed—her teasing turned to flirtation, her impudence to seduction. I did not realize that Nabiki Tendo possessed such traits, traits which, I shall admit, set my heart pounding and my blood racing. Indeed, I wonder how little I truly know about her. Perhaps, I would do well to find out.
It had been so easy to make herself the center of attention, to make every boy in Furinkan want her. Easy—and boring. Nabiki leaned her head against her hand. She didn't expect love. But she thought someone might try to resist her. Boys only saw what they wanted to see. They didn't see who she was. If they had, she couldn't have fooled them in a million years.
Absently, she flipped the page.
All these years, I have waited and soon the moment will arrive. Tomorrow, Nabiki Tendo will look me in the eye and admit that I am not the same gawky boy she made fun of in junior high. It will make my victory all the sweeter.
Nabiki frowned. What on earth was he talking about now?
Today, I fought my way into the finals of the Furinkan City-Wide Kendo Tournament.
Oh right. There had been a huge martial arts tournament taking place on the beach that summer. Akane had competed at the junior high level, and Nabiki had gone to cheer her on. Of course, Akane's tournament had been on the other side of the beach. The only reason Nabiki happened to see Kuno at all was because the vendors near the kendo tournament sold soda for five yen cheaper.
Still, Kuno had been impressive. Gotten her to stop and watch.
The competition was almost disappointing. Men older than I, but lesser by far, fell to the might of my sword. Maidens cheered my name. I turned to acknowledge them—and there stood Nabiki Tendo, sipping on a soda, eyes filled with curiosity. What had brought her there, I could not say. Perhaps, she came only to mock me. But what flaw could she find? There was none. It was my last match of the day, and I swung with such gusto that my opponent fell like a rag doll thrown onto the floor.
And for once, Kuno wasn't exaggerating. It was the first time Nabiki had actually seen armor peel off like paint.
I shall never forget how her eyes widened, how she looked at me then with newfound admiration. Nor will I forget the words she spoke when I approached her, uttered for once with perfect sincerity. "You've gotten good, Kuno-baby."
She'd been surprised how good. Nabiki knew he practiced. A lot. She'd seen him every day in junior high at a park near their house, beating a stubborn oak tree until he was drenched in sweat. His screams scared stray cats and children. Kuno looked so angry back then. Not that she could blame him, what with his mom leaving the family, his dad taking off to Hawaii, and everyone in school teasing him. No wonder he felt the need to beat up inanimate objects with a stick.
But at this tournament, Kuno seemed different. Almost... happy. Nabiki came to his championship round, just to watch him fight. When Kuno saw her in the crowd again, he smiled and straightened up. After each victory, his eyes searched her out, eagerly, as though to say, Look, look, did you see that, did you see? When the last opponent crashed to the ground and the crowd cheered, Kuno beamed like a thousand flashing light bulbs. He was so proud.
Nabiki shook her head. She could only imagine the praises he'd heap upon himself in his diary entry for the day.
To see my name inscribed upon an empty golden cup gives me no pleasure. What means a trophy, what means a title, what means honor and glory, if I am to be ever spited by the one person whose respect I cannot gain? How can she yet deny me? What more would she have of me? For what reason am I even now worth so little in the eyes of Nabiki Tendo?
Nabiki blinked. What had she done to upset him this time? She'd been nice to him, or so she thought. At any rate, she'd admired his shiny trophy and listened to him rant about how he was the rising star of Furinkan High. And afterwards, when the ceremony ended and the crowds dispersed, she let him buy her a soda and walk her down the beach at sunset.
I had never thought Nabiki to be beautiful until that moment. Perhaps, it was just the reflecting light of the sunset, the splash of orange upon her skin. Or maybe the way the salt-scented wind blew her hair in wisps across her eyes, tangling around her ears. My intentions up until then were simply to force a confession from her: that I was indeed a fine specimen of a young man. But in that bewitching moment, I suddenly wanted more. And so, I made up my mind and very boldly asked Nabiki Tendo for a date.
She laughed at me.
Maybe she wouldn't have, if he'd asked her like a normal person, if his exact words hadn't run along the lines of, "Nabiki Tendo, as I am feeling generous today, I will kindly offer you the chance to date with me, a thrilling venture no doubt for such a demur young maiden as yourself." Honestly, how was she supposed to take that seriously?
Couldn't she be serious this one time? Must she always laugh, and not in a cute, girlish way, but rather as though the prospect of me even asking her was somehow beneath her. But then, pulling a face of mock sobriety, she asked me why I wished to date with her—
And he had simply stared, as though he didn't understand the question. After several seconds passed, he finally stuttered out, "Well, you are not my ideal—I would not describe you as a traditional Japanese beauty—although in the right lighting, you might be seen as lovely—but not every day, of course—"
—and I will confess my usual eloquence completely vanished, for I did not expect such a request, and when I suddenly had to think what to compare her with, no words came into my head. For Nabiki is ever-shifting, not in her looks, but in her moods and aspects, and to thus describe her would be to describe the ever-whirling pattern of a kaleidoscope.
So she'd assumed he gotten caught up in the moment and decided to ask her out because she was the first girl he saw. Understandable. But not exactly flattering. Nabiki had her pride, after all. She didn't like the idea of being an afterthought—especially, not to him.
But that does not justify what she said to me next! "Well, you're rich enough, but really, I think it'd be more trouble than it's worth. So I'll have to pass."
She wasn't going to announce her true feelings. That just wasn't her style. But she didn't want to hurt him either, so she'd kept it light and brief and casual—he'd shrug it off without a bruise to his ego.
She could not have struck me deeper if she had taken my own sword and run me through with it. I would have preferred that—then, at least, I would have known the depth of her hatred for me and felt some satisfaction in that. But to be simply brushed aside… like sand off her jacket. So little… Am I worth so little to her after all that? Rich? And troublesome? And what of the rest of me? After four years, does she still not see… anything else?