I just realised I didn't reply the reviews in Chapter 1. I am so sorry about that!
Megingjoro: I replied your account but idk if you saw it. It's good to see your name popping up on my newsfeed XD Hmmm now I might consider making another fic with Rukawa being really awkward around Haruko (OHOHOHOHOHO)
KH: I'm sorry I really derailed out of character with Rukawa from that chapter. Hope it's still a decent read for you though!
And to the multiple Guests, justascurious [I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE HAHA] and NIDMOR: thank you guys for your support though, really. :) I'm sorry for the delayed updates.
Rukawa is anxious about many things.
Firstly, three days of confinement to this hospital room is not doing any good. Staring at the same four walls every waking moment is gradually driving him insane. He finds himself involuntarily empathising with Shohoku's ex-MVP: being sentenced to bedrest with women in white coats ogling him makes him desperate to escape ato the comfort of the basketball court too.
His fingers twitch at the thought of holding a ball, longing to grip its rubber surface.
However he's uncertain how comfortable he'd be at Shohoku's gym, not after that awkward encounter with the younger Akagi.
Which brings him to his second cause for concern. After his bleary mind decided to voice out his sexual frustrations to the object of said sexual frustrations, how did she react? She didn't. Instead Haruko simply crumpled into a unmoving heap on the floor. Rukawa would've been relieved had he not realised he'd have to move her onto one of the cots.
That was how Ayako found them a few minutes later. When she walked in to announce Shohoku's narrow victory, he's pretty certain the last thing she anticipated was a half-conscious Rukawa pathetically dragging an even less alive Haruko towards the bed. He vaguely recalled her muttering something about "reckless freshmen" under her breath as she helped him move the girl and checked his condition. Next thing he knew, he'd become prisoner to this torture chamber of a hospital and left completely hanging by the younger Akagi.
However, the main cause of his turmoil is not the lack of action in this hospital, the leering nurses, nor the lack of closure for his predicament. No. The primary problem is that his wayward thoughts are no different now to three days ago.
He believed coming clean about his perverse thoughts would stop them altogether.
Boy was he wrong.
Images of her caged against him at the door to the infirmary — looking at him pleadingly as beads of sweat roll down her face — waft through his head whenever his mind isn't occupied by basketball, slowly consuming his thoughts.
Prior to his concussion Rukawa could engage in other activities to get his mind off of her. Haruko hadn't frequented his thoughts back then because he was busy; it was only in his moments of relaxation that she'd creep in. Now with orders to stay in bed and refrain from physical activity, keeping her out of his mind is proving to be a more difficult task than he imagined.
If an idle mind is the devil's workshop, satan's main office must be in his head.
"Look who's back." A bush of brown curls obscure his vision the moment Rukawa sets foot in the gym. Sometimes he forgets how light on his feet his captain is.
As if on cue all the players stop their activities, turning to the entrance. The barest hint of a pause is held before they chorus enthusiastically, "Welcome back!"
Rukawa mutters a barely audible "thanks" as he heads to the benches, marking himself present on Ayako's register.
"Oi Rukawa," As he ties his laces Mitsui approaches him with a sober expression. "You sure you're fit to play? That was a pretty nasty fall."
A hand appears on his shoulder. "Relax Mitsui-san," Ryota nods in approval to Rukawa. "I'm sure he rested properly until the doctor discharged him. After all Rukawa isn't as irresponsible as you were."
"Nani?! Don't put us in the same loop. He likes to sleep all the time!"
After a thoroughly exhausting training session Rukawa stands alone in the shower room. As he wrings his drenched jersey — observing with satisfaction the waterfall of sweat cascading into the sink — two annoyingly familiar voices drift into the room.
"He's lying. There's no way he hasn't been practicing. It's like he's never left!" He scowls at the recognisable husky baritone.
"Mitsui-san," two sets of footsteps enter. "we checked with the doctors when he got discharged yesterday. He never left!"
Ryota and Mitsui appear on either side of him with their shirts in their hands. After exchanging stiff nods of acknowledgement they casually continue their conversation as though they aren't discussing the boy currently sandwiched between them.
"It's a head injury!" Mitsui has the gall to thump the freshman's head for good measure, causing the latter to wince. "Shouldn't that have screwed with his skills just a little bit?"
"You're forgetting that the kitsune has no brain to screw up Mitchi," Sakuragi's voice thunders across the walls of the room as he takes Rukawa's place at the sink. "That's why he's fine!"
"Like you're one to talk Hanamichi."
Deciding there's too much stupidity in this room for him to handle in his post-concussed state, Rukawa ignores the troublemakers and trudges to the exit. Their pointless bickering is taking a heavier toll on his head than the training and in terms of foolishness, his teammates are only slightly better than yesterday's lovesick nurses. Now that he finally has the freedom to move around, the first thing he wants to do is get away from all this stupidity.
Too bad it seems to be following him everywhere he goes.
"Rukawa."
He ignores Mitsui for as long as he can, speed-walking to the locker room. Although he doesn't know what the ex-gangster wants, only a fool wouldn't recognise the mischief in the older boy's tone.
Just as they enter the locker room Mitsui stands in front of him, barring his path to his sports bag.
"What."
Not bothering to hide his amusement Mitsui tilts his head, eyeing the freshman with a knowing look. If Rukawa was an expressive person, he would have swallowed in fear. Since he isn't he simply watches the senior, his features impassive.
"Since you're fresh out of the hospital, there's no need to train that hard." Mitsui folds his arms, the side of his mouth lifting into a half-smirk. "Unless you were doing it for someone."
"I don't know what you're talking about." And honestly, he doesn't. This guy is making as much sense as a fish trying to fly.
A bark of laughter leaves Mitsui's lips. "There's no need to pretend, you sly dog!" He walks up to Rukawa, playfully nudging him in the ribs with his elbow. "You're trying to impress the little Akagi aren't you?"
Mitsui — with his trademark grin in place — awaits the myriad of expressions he knows will paint themselves on his usually emotionless teammate. Rukawa isn't gay, just too emotionally constipated to converse with girls. Thus when he finds one particularly attractive there's no way he'd talk to her of his own accord.
After all, what do emotionally constipated boys do when they're crushing on a girl? They ignore the shit out of her and hope nobody notices.
Unfortunately for Rukawa, Mitsui has the observatory skills of a hawk.
Don't get him wrong: the ex-MVP isn't the kind of boy who'd tease others about matters involving the heart. But with this seemingly-perfect scumbag he can't resist. Besides, someone has to keep Rukawa's arrogance in check and this might be the best way to do it.
Rukawa picks up his bag — his face unreadable — and heads back to the door, pausing by the sharpshooter.
"Only a jobless idiot would pry into other people's business and make something out of nothing."
He walks out of the room, leaving its remaining occupant stunned into silence.
"That's the longest sentence he's ever said."
"Mark your players!"
Practice the following day goes off without a hitch. Thanks to Rukawa's return the teams are more equally divided when playing full-court games with Sakuragi and Mitsui on one team and Ryota and him in the other.
"Defense! Raise your hands higher!" Ayako yells from the sideline.
Shohoku's ace sighs at the disgustingly lovestruck look on the point guard's features. Besotted by the team manager, Ryota shifts his gaze to Ayako as he dribbles up to the three point line, barely glancing at the opponent rushing in for a steal.
"Got it!"
Rukawa smirks. How naive. Simply because their captain's eyes aren't on the court doesn't mean his focus isn't. To accentuate his point Rukawa charges towards the basket, looking at his seemingly distracted teammate just in time to see a ball sailing through the air right at him. With a grunt Rukawa leaps off of the balls of his feet, catching it mid-air and narrowly avoiding Sakuragi's fly swatter as he thrusts it into the hoop.
Landing in a dignified manner, he strolls up to the sophomore and slaps his hand in a perfectly executed high-five, the echoing smack of their contact a nonverbal taunt to their opponents for underestimating them.
Without further ado they jog back to defend, knowing the other team is all too eager to return the favour tenfold.
Rukawa guards Mitsui, watching his every move like a predator stalking its prey. The ball is most likely going to be passed to their two strongest players: Mitsui and — as much as he hates to admit it — Sakuragi. With Ryota guarding Yasuda in such a way that erases the possibility of passing in the redhead's direction, Rukawa only needs to mark the three-pointer.
"Hey man," Mitsui mutters under his breath, so quietly that Rukawa wouldn't have heard had he not been standing right beside him. "There's no need to show off, your girl isn't watching you."
Rukawa opens his mouth to retort when he spies a ball flying towards them from the corner of his eye. Instinctively a hand shoots up to intercept the pass and before Mitsui can curse aloud the ace is making a fast break, sprinting to the basket with the sharpshooter hot on his heels. Just as Mitsui appears in front of him he bounces a pass to his captain to score a layup.
"Don't infect me with your stupidity."
He returns to defend, gaze briefly sweeping over the bench.
Something is wrong with Haruko.
Since their game with Ryonan roughly a week ago, Haruko's been an even bigger klutz than usual. Not only has she stumbled over nothing for the umpteenth time, she keeps forgetting to bring their manual scoreboard to training. Ayako initially passed it off as nothing serious, until the younger Akagi stumbled into their classroom with her brother's lunch that morning.
For Pete's sake, the third year classrooms are on the other side of the school!
As she observes her assistant team manager flip the numbers on the scoreboard, Ayako can't help noticing her silent refusal to look at Rukawa. The more she thinks about it, the harder she struggles to recall the last time Haruko fangirled over their ace since his return.
"Okay guys. Let's call it a day."
Her mind drifts back to when she found the girl sprawled out on the infirmary's floor and Rukawa in no better shape. Although tempted to jump to the conclusion that Haruko's strange behaviour stemmed from the unknown events in the infirmary, the lack of change in Rukawa's character says otherwise.
"Aya-chan," A familiar presence settles beside her. "You look troubled. Is everything okay?"
Shielding herself from inquisitive black eyes Ayako searches for her assistant, finding her on the other side of the gym engaged in an animated conversation with Sakuragi.
She nods at them. "Haruko's been acting weird lately."
"Really?" Doubt creeps into Ryota's tone, much to her annoyance. "Sure she forgets stuff but Haruko's working hard…"
Ayako looks at him expectantly as he rambles on.
"…Heck, I haven't seen her drooling over Rukawa at all— oh."
She smirks. For a guy who's supposed to be lightning fast, that took him awhile.
"So she hasn't been staring at Rukawa all day." He shrugs, "maybe she's finally gotten over the ice block. Isn't that a good thing?"
Before Ayako can argue — no, it isn't a good thing when it makes her so lost in thought that she ends up on the opposite side of school from where she's meant to be — a third voice interrupts their conversation.
"Little Akagi isn't into Rukawa anymore? Talk about bad timing!"
Mitsui takes a seat beside the teens, chuckling at their puzzled expressions. They don't know? He can't help feeling a little smug at that. During his years of delinquency he was often out of the loop when it came to social matters — never concerning himself with rumours unless it involved fights — hence now he savours the rare moments where he's the one with new knowledge.
He leans towards the pair, smirking when they lean in as well.
"Rukawa's got the hots for her."
"WHAT?!" Simultaneously they stare at the lone player practicing on the court, then at Haruko, then at Rukawa again.
"Stop joking around Mitsui-san."
Mitsui raises a finger. "Watch."
They examine the super rookie closely as he finishes his individual drills. Tossing the ball into the rack he leaves the gym, passing Sakuragi and Haruko. While the redhead spews his usual insults at his rival Haruko doesn't even spare a glance in the ace's direction.
Unimpressed, Ayako turns to the boys, failing to see what was special about that barely existent interaction. On the other hand Ryota looks as smug as a poker player with a royal flush, the man beside him donning a similar reaction.
"What did I miss?" She raises a brow, "He didn't even look at her."
Their grins widen.
"What am I missing?"
When the shit-eating grins fail to desist from their faces she fights the urge to smack them senseless with her fan. Respecting elders be damned.
"Guys…"
"I believe Mitsui-kun and Miyagi-kun are referring to Rukawa-kun's clenched jaw and the tightened muscles in his forearm when he passed by Haruko-san." An older voice explains, a large presence hovering behind the trio.
"Anzai-sensei!"
While the younger two are rooted to their seats in shock, Mitsui springs off the bench as though it burnt his rear and bows to their coach, stammering an awkward apology.
"There's nothing to apologise for Mitsui-kun." Anzai's moustache moves — the sole indicator of him speaking. "It's nice to see you taking an interest in your teammate's personal life."
"Ahh w-well…" Ayako looks to the other two only to find them mirroring her mortified expression. In contrast, their coach appears unfazed by his students' obvious discomfort.
"Sensei!" Ayako and Mitsui send a grateful look to their captain. "Does it bother you that Rukawa could be interested in Haruko?"
The older man raises his brows, fixing his glasses. "On the contrary Miyagi-kun, I'm relieved."
At their bemused stares he elaborates. "Rukawa-kun is no doubt a fine player. Yet sometimes I worry that basketball might end up consuming his life."
Sweat-drops form on their temples. It's a bit too late for that.
"Aren't you worried that he might get distracted sensei?" Mitsui asks summoning as much politeness as he can muster.
"I think Haruko-san is too devoted to the team to let herself be a distraction. Besides, Rukawa-kun is too focused for that to happen. For him basketball would be a distraction from everything else."
Anzai pauses, letting his words sink in.
"When it comes to basketball, Rukawa-kun has a lot of talent and a lot of ambition." Behind his spectacles his eyes cloud over, a quiet pain stirring in his chest as memories of failed dreams — buried as deep as the person they are associated with — resurface. "He should follow his dreams without sacrificing the chances to live a full life."
"So sensei…what should we do?"
"Nothing." He smiles saying no more as he turns to leave.
"Get home safe, you three." With a small wave he departs from the gym, nodding politely at the figure hovering behind the exit.
"You too, Rukawa-kun."
Days blur into weeks and Rukawa is burdened by restlessness.
Ever since unintentionally overhearing his senpais he's sensed a tension in the air. It isn't palpable nor thick enough to cut with a knife; it's a quiet unease — one that inconspicuously pervades the atmosphere. It isn't noticeable enough to disrupt his game but makes its presence known in the shared glances between his captain and senior team manager, festering itself in the way their sharpshooter would watch both him the younger Akagi with a cheeky grin on his face as the latter continues to avert her gaze from him.
Not for the first time since this entire ordeal began, Rukawa curses his own observational skills.
As was Anzai's suggestion, nobody confronted him about his personal matters. While Rukawa feels a need to resent the man, he can't find a legitimate reason to. Why should he be angry at his coach? Because he talked about him behind his back?
Or is it because everything he said about him is true?
If anything he should be grateful that Anzai advised them against interfering. It saves him the trouble of having awkward conversations with any of them had they pondered talking to him about it. Yet a part of him wishes they would, just so they can cut to the chase instead of building unnecessary suspense by lying in wait.
The worst part of it all is that he doesn't know what they're waiting for.
"Class dismissed."
He merges with the throng of students squeezing out of the door into the hallway, ambling along the densely-packed corridor. Being a head taller than everyone else always worked well for him in these situations: not only do people automatically move out of his way, they are also too short to obscure his vision, making it all the more easy to find his locker among the after-school crowd.
Scanning the endless rows of lockers for his number, a mop of brown hair catches his eye. Upon realising who the owner of those chestnut tresses is, Rukawa stifles the urge to rage at the world. Of course he'd be reminded of her during one of the treasured moments where she isn't plaguing his thoughts.
Their eyes meet for the first time since his concussion (or at least, the first time he remembers). He stares at her, fixedly observing her reaction to their unanticipated eye-contact. Widened cerulean holds his stare, deviating to trail down the length of his body before snapping back to his gaze. Rukawa doesn't miss the red flush warming her cheeks as she hightails it in the opposite direction, no doubt to the gym.
He contemplates resuming the search for his locker and then thinks better of it, heading to the gym himself.
Haruko is bent over a cabinet, rummaging through the numerous equipment in the drawer when she hears footsteps by the door. She smiles to herself victoriously: this time she won't forget to bring the scoreboard.
"Ayako-san, guess what I remembered!" her hands brush against a familiar rectangular box, gripping its edges. Yanking it out from under various objects, Haruko turns around to wave the manual scoreboard in the older girl's face when she realises that the towering, muscular figure by the door is definitely not Ayako.
"Rukawa-kun?"
His eyes are glued to hers, not once breaking contact as Rukawa takes a step into the equipment room, shutting the door behind him. Heartbeat pulsing erratically in her head, fingers twitching uncontrollably, only one thing crosses Haruko's mind: she needs to escape.
Concentration wandering to the closed door behind her captor, she instantly deduces that if she sprints for the exit, she can use the distance between them to gain enough momentum to squeeze past Rukawa and reach the door. All she needs to do is start running, right now.
Unfortunately, Rukawa comes to the same conclusion.
Striding towards her, as the distance between them dwindles so does Haruko's hope of escape. So much for a running start. Instead of sprinting forward as planned, her body instinctively backs away from the advancing figure, retreating right up until her lower back comes in contact with the cabinet she was rummaging through earlier. With nowhere to run, the younger Akagi watches helplessly as Shohoku's ace corners her, caging her in as he places his hands on the small shelf on either side of her.
"You're avoiding me."
When she refuses to look at him Rukawa lowers his face until their foreheads are almost touching, the proximity forcing their eyes to meet. A musty fragrance overwhelms her senses, igniting the uncomfortable feelings that made her avoid him in the first place.
"Why."
His breath dances across her lips when he asks — or rather demands — for her explanation. Crimson stains her cheeks as Haruko struggles to contain the palpitations wrecking her body, unknowingly nibbling her lower lip raw to rid herself of the dirty images flickering through her sinful mind. He's too close.
"A-after you talked to me that d-day," she stutters, knowing she doesn't need to specify any further what day she's referring to. Haruko takes a deep breath, drawing courage from the fact that he spoke of his attraction first, albeit it being weeks ago and in a semiconscious state.
"Every time I look at you I can't stop thinking about you in that way." By the end of her sentence she's completely breathless, fighting a losing battle against her own hormones.
Silence reigns, stretching the moment into what seems like an eternity of the most awkwardly sexual tension ever known to mankind. Rukawa's gaze is unreadable, his arms on either side of her unmoving. His reaction to her confession is so obscure that Haruko can't help but doubt everything that's been transpiring between them up until now. Did she imagine the entire incident at the infirmary? Has she been reading too much into the stares he gives her in the hallways and in the breaks from basketball training?
There's one thing she's certain of: if he doesn't stop staring at her she's going to—
"What way?"
The smooth baritone of his voice sends chills down her spine and it takes all of her willpower to not faint right then and there. Haruko almost loses herself to the warmth radiated by the boy in front of her until she registers his question.
Did he just…
Before she can contain herself, her knees buckle under the enormous weight of his words. Instinctively her hands reach up to grasp his broad shoulders in a desperate attempt to steady herself. Having noticed the unnecessary contact she's initiated, Haruko head immediately shoots up to stutter an apology when her lips brush against something soft.
Something that feels a lot like another pair of lips.
Haruko pulls away with a knee-jerk reaction speed, hastily stammering as many apologies in one breath that she is capable of when Rukawa interrupts.
"Again."
Her first thought is that she's dreaming. This can't be real. Of course it can't. Sure Rukawa admitted to having less than pure thoughts about her, but that was roughly ten minutes after his head was smashed into the ground. People say the craziest things when they have concussions.
So there's not a snowball's chance in hell that he'd even hint at being attracted to her now that he's fully functioning and up to speed.
If that's the case, however, then why is he staring at her mouth so intently?
His gaze meets hers, expecting. Here goes nothing. Mustering the remaining courage she isn't aware she still had, Haruko leans on the tips of her toes and gently, hesitantly presses her lips against his, eyes fluttering shut upon contact.
Hands tighten on his shoulders as she moves her lips against his awkwardly. Her first kiss with the boy of her dreams really isn't turning out to be as spectacular as the books have made it out to be. Disappointment swells in her being when he doesn't respond, lips as still and unfeeling as the boy they belong to. Her nose tingles, a telling sign of an imminent crying session. Guess she imagined everything after all.
Dejected, she moves to break the kiss when two muscular arms wrap around her waist. Next thing she knows her body is pulled flush against Rukawa's chiselled frame and her mouth is being coaxed into opening. From being as still as a statue moments before, it's like a light-switch went on in his head.
Or like a beast has been unleashed.
He grinds into her; the force of his pelvic thrust shoving her against the cabinet. A whimper escapes her lips at the painful contact to her tailbone and Rukawa is quick to lift her onto the cupboard's surface, settling himself between her trembling legs. Large hands roam across her back, one cupping the back of her head while the other settles on the hem of her blouse dangerously close to the skin of her back. Despite her lust-hazed state, she could hear warning bells ringing in her head.
When Haruko parts her lips to caution him against pursuing this, a tongue wedges its way into her mouth, effectively silencing her protests. The hand in her hair tilts her head upwards, his tongue taking full advantage of the new angle to explore her untrodden cavern. Rukawa's other hand dives beneath her shirt, calloused fingertips raking across the naked flesh of her lower back. She sits there as he ravages her, unsure of how to respond to the invading muscle in her mouth. Her tongue hides from his as he licks across her teeth, hungrily searching for the appendage.
It is only when Rukawa releases a frustrated huff does Haruko react, shyly rubbing her tongue against his. The delicious friction entices a moan out of both of them, prompting a sensual clash of teeth, tongue and—
"MY EYES! MY EYES!"
They freeze. Eyes snapping wide open, it takes them less than a second to discover that the outcry wasn't made by either of them (although how could it be possible with their tongues down each other's throats).
Rukawa is the first to react. Tearing his mouth away from the younger Akagi's he turns his head to have a look at their intruder, glowering at the person by the door. Too mortified to sneak a peak at the newcomer Haruko buries her face into Rukawa's chest, her head swelling with ominous thoughts of her reputation plummeting down the drain and how her brother is going to kill her—
"Finally snagged the little Akagi ey? It's about time Rukawa!"
And then she realises just who she's been wrestling tongues with for the last few minutes.
"Hey what happened? Little Akagi doesn't look so good."
"She passed out. Again."
Life is much smoother after that fiasco.
Mitsui ended up blabbing to his fellow gossipers — Ryota and Ayako — and the three of them have made it a point to remind Rukawa of his deeds in every training session. Be it in the form of unsubtle teasing, suspicious stares, or just laughing when they think nobody's looking (Anzai-sensei's habit more than any of the others), Rukawa can't find it in himself to care. Thankfully, nobody has filled the redhead in on this strange turn of events.
Haruko stopped avoiding him, although not right away. At first she was even clumsier in his presence, turning beet red and murmuring incoherently whenever he was near. After a few confrontations — where he demanded she "Stop being so annoying" — the younger Akagi eventually regained her normal attitude around him, acknowledging him with a small smile whenever their eyes met. In fact, she's started reading at the rooftop during lunchtimes again, only this time the books she reads are not half as erotic.
As for Rukawa, well things haven't changed much. Basketball training is as rigorous as usual and his napping schedule is as extensive as always. Tuesdays and Thursdays are marked by the younger Akagi's company during lunchtimes, and while he still glowers at her whenever she appears on the roof they both know it's not genuine.
Granted, there are moments where he dreams about Haruko and the unmentionable things they'd do together, and he has caught her gaze wandering across his body on numerous occasions.
But he'll pursue that in his own time, without pressure from his teammates or a dirty book.
.
.
.
Curiosity killed the fox, but satisfaction brought it back.
Some of you sweethearts must be disappointed by the lack of real sexy-time in this chapter. Not only did I do this because I don't want to butcher Rukawa and Haruko's personalities even further, but also because something about 15 year olds screwing in school doesn't appeal to me (not that I don't know of people who have done that hohoho).
I hope this ending didn't put you guys off too much.
Stay golden!