A/N: Based off Like Dislike, kinda. Yeah, like many of them out here. Head-canons are almost barely used... Either.
"Good morning, Angel."
"Morning. Yes, What."
To be honest, there's really no question mark at the end of her sentence, as she'd put it. Eventhough she knows well it's against the rule of proper grammar. It is what it is; flat, monosyllable, a period at the end, any adjective you can use to describe a vexed, bored tone she'd intended. And she doesn't really mean it to be a question. Just a sentence. A hedge, an intentionally ambiguous statement. Really. Since, for her, for her sort of person, she finds conversation to be anything but exhausting, and all time-wasting. Unless it's necessary, she'll always make sure that exchanges involving her are short as possible. But for some reason, for the past three days, she finds herself invariably input a statement to the end of her sentences that will—always —inevitably lengthen the conversation.
Odd, she knows.
"Ah. Just dropping by to greet my lovely princess, how have you been?"
Rin's head doesn't raise. She keeps her eyes trained on the neat, comforting script of her notebook. One hand supports her chin and the other clasps the corner of her current book page. "Nothing much."
"Well, that's good to know," Says he. Unnecessarily gratified. "I also brought you something though."
Her position still doesn't shift. But her motionless state is soon broken as she jerks back as something is slid across her textbook.
She picks it up. A small object, wrapped in yellow and red and green package. A candy. Her brows slant at the sight.
"It's just like you," he says, grinning, "Dunno what I mean? Give it a try first." He leans back and blows her a kiss—which she evades—and leaves for the door to return to his class with light springs in his strides.
She stares at his retreating back. Dubious.
For the past three years. There was really nothing between her and the resident so-called scamp Len Kagamine. Scamp, mind you. While he still has a hint of potential of becoming the school heartthrob, his interminable recklessness in clothing, and perversion, and exuberance won't let him be one. Other than that, he's mild in academic and, if only he was more attentive with his appearance, he will be, undoubtedly, in the good-looking category.
So, it's more than just predictable, really. Regarding of her reaction when she sees him, a stranger, suddenly finds his way to approach her. Her, a shadow in the shadows. Her, a stray, dry leaf on a road. Her, another dark, shapeless cloud in the sky.
"Hah?" Was how she reacted.
It was last week, 9 days prior. When he found her lounging—and a bit of waiting, on a bench amid a populous amusement park. Her comrades were ones of those responsible for the intensity of the din on the roller coaster overhead. She was lost then, deep in her thoughts, her panda of winning the dart-throwing sat firm and secure beneath her chin. Until she caught a peculiar movement from the corner of her eyes.
In one smooth, deft arc, he emerged from the shadows. Flashing the most coquettish smile she'd ever seen, and seated himself beside her. A guitar slung across his shoulder. A red rose in one hand.
She was speechless in an instant.
Even after his forty seconds long love song and a minute of introduction and two minutes of their interaction which he ceremoniously concluded with, "No worries, no worries. No need to answer it now if you can't. I'm a patient man. Take your time." She was still unable to manage any sort of verbalization.
And predictably, days after, she is forced to live her days as a student and his schoolmate alongside the growing uneasiness and anxiety and awkwardness whenever they paths intersect. And, oh really, his unexpected, unprecedented, soi-disant, friendly, school-break visits don't help at all. She knows for sure why he did such a thing—and her shoulders twitch—because he was, undoubtedly, expecting her reply from that day.
She's chewed over it actually. Of course. And since he was just a stranger, a freak, an alien for her, she concluded that she doesn't reciprocate his feeling. Unfortunately.
Yet, somedays around the past week. When she approached him to answer, for some odd reason, whenever she tried to say it to his face, she would always end up sputtering some intricate, vague form of her thoughts. Which he'd invariably point out to only earn him a fist to his abdomen, or a firm tweak on his cheek, or a kick in his shins.
Noticing her peculiar inability to reject, she decided to just stay silent for awhile and watch if he is really, as he'd claimed, a patient man.
Rin trifles the confection with her lickpot for a moment before finally unwraps and brings it to her lips. Flinching sharply as an electrifying sensation bursts violently in her mouth.
It's a sour candy.
A very sour one.
Even in the middle of her contorted countenance she manages a tiny smile.
'I see, I see. Very specific.' She nods to herself, amused, recalling his most recent words.
A few seconds later, the sourness melts away, and what's left in her mouth is nothing but sweetness that could've just belonged to the heaven.
~~~~|::::|..*..|::::|~~~~
"May I take this seat, milady?"
"No."
"But others are occupied."
"Poor you."
"Please?"
"Fine."
He happily sits beside her. But somehow, she notices, with less vigor than usual. And his bright, boyish voice is lower, softer than usual.
"I was wondering," he begins casually, "what names will be given to our three children in the future."
Her left brow twitches. Like always, that blatant statement will get her without fail. The day in the amusement park has been a month old and still no answer is confirmed. Yet, he acts as if they are finally, finally official.
"What do you think about Raku, Shintaro and Iroha?"
"Neither."
"Mamoru, Miki, Akira?"
"Neither."
"So you aren't into unique names, huh? Okay."
And then there's silence.
It's peculiar. For him. To actually put a pause in his sentences.
"You're acting weird," Says she, detached. Not looking away from her book.
"Really?"
Her eyes narrow.
Seriously, this is not the Len she used to know. For what she knew, he was of fiend's grins and no indoor voice and chit-chats and poor dressings. But based of what she's gathered from her lightspeed scan recently, she notices that the white of his uniform is unwontedly whiter. His skin paler. And, peculiarly funny, his hair is messier.
She makes a mental note to consult Gumi after school ends
"Didn't I've been that sort of person since the beginning?" He says, brow quirking. Playful. "I thought I was?" He chuckles before dipping down to pull out a manga from his bag. And shockingly, doesn't voice even the merest hum.
Rin glances askance at the supposedly extroverted, vociferous, devil-may-care sloven beside her and wonders. If, maybe, just maybe, he's not really what she likes to think.
~~~~|::::|..*..|::::|~~~~
One day, she doesn't hear his greeting.
Instead, he gives her a rather disarming smile when they encounter in the locker room.
His locker is across hers, with cheap stickers line up at random angles on its peeling, blue metal door. She realises that their number has decreased for some unknown reason.
"You looked like you've been caught in a typhoon or something," Comments she. Which he only grins and tousles his bedhead even more in return. She catches it too, that his uniform has - somehow - freed from its usual woeful crinkles.
"Have got some insomnia for awhile. Dunno when it'll blow over. So I guess what you can do is tolerate." He says casually as he piles book over his arm. Delivers her one last grin before trotting off.
"Insomnia. Huh."
She turns back to her locker, now, looking into the small mirror behind its door. She inspects her reflection: blonde hair tied in pigtails, fringes swept aside, hair clips, dull blue eyes, frowning lips.
Nothing attractive.
At least, she thinks so. Especially if this current picture of her is put adjacent to one of Miku Hatsune's. Or some other sophomores or seniors or even some of her fellow freshmen. Compared to them, she is, as she would describe, a pilchard. Dull and common and boring. And they are dragonets. Vibrant and bright and beautiful. And rare.
It's an utter suspicion why it's her that he's currently falling for.
She's not sure about his taste, and she is sure she never will. But she's heard, from her so-and-so bestie Gumi, that the boy had been gunning for the school celebrity, Miku Hatsune. For years. And pity for him, he was crushed right after his desires were finally granted.
~~~~|::::|..*..|::::|~~~~
There has never been any seatmate she gets in the school bus beside her best friend.
Even when she's absent, sick like right now, she still finds everyone beside everyone. No matter the circumstances, it will always either Gumi beside her or an empty seat beside her and window on the other. Nothing more. Nothing less. In that same front seat of the bus.
"Oi! Hold up!" A low voice, muffled in the distance, definitely outside the bus. The school bus schreeches to a stop. She hears the back door slide open. The metal floor rattling beneath her soles as the passenger mounts the vehicle. Several crescendoing footsteps before she hears a loud clunk right from the seat behind her.
She breathes out, heart pounding slower, louder. Yet another time she has to watch her elevating hopes come down in broken shards before her. She's a hermit, sure. She doesn't like people, sure. But loneliness can strike even the most jaundiced misanthrope in the whole universe.
She looks out the window, forehead kissing the pane. A lady with ponytail and headphones and black tank top and shorts is prancing with her sand-coloured bulldog on the sidewalk. Another pedestrians, a pastry deliverer on bike, office workers, younger juveniles carrying school bags like her, all running pass as the bus goes on.
A thud, and something heavy is on her head.
"Huh?" She looks up and is met by a 500 pages thick hardcover. A dictionary, she notices. From behind the tome a face emerges, instantly recognised.
"You." Her eyelids lower to make a dull look on her face.
"Morning!" Heralds he, moving the dictionary away from her forehead.
Her eyebrow raises, and she points at the lexicon. "It's Japanese?" She won't be shocked if it was an English-Japanese dictionary since everybody needs that. But a pure Japanese dictionary? And most of all, Len?
"Oh, it's not mine," He says, smiling. Lifting the book up and down like a barbell.
"Of course." She scorns. Looking away.
"It's yours."
Okay. Now wait a second.
"You love literature, don't you?"
She looks at him. Getting even more surprised by the second.
"You love making poems and flash fictions I see. They're pretty good. The flash fictions are intriguing. The longer ones always have unpredictable endings. The poems are amazing. But you seem to need more stock in your vocabulary. I think?"
"You..." Her lips quiver for a second. Surprise tripping over confusion and all words seem to flee off her mind. "...How did...How did you..."
"Know?" He laughs a little under his breath, "I know everything."
"Yeah, sounds legitimate for me." She scribbles a mental note to not leave her textbooks sprawled on her desk during school breaks again. Some perverted lovestruck stalker might scour some trivial info's she thinks nobody will notice or even bat an eye at. "I'm just surprised..."
"Hm?"
"...That you know that I want to increase my glossary. Did...Did my works really show it off?"
"Not really," he says, handing her his 'gift' which she takes both eagerly and hesitantly. "You have your ways with words. They're really creative, I must admit. So, I guess it's all because of my 'sharp instinct'"
"You and your so-called sharp instinct." She rolls her eyes.
She looks at the dictionary. Flipping it open, then closes it again. "Thanks for the dictionary anyway."
"No probs!" He gives her a thumbs up and winks. Retreating back to the seat behind her.
For some reason, she feels the blood rush to her face and the pulse in her chest grow stronger as she holds the book closer to herself.
~~~~|::::|..*..|::::|~~~~
The last thing Rin wants to behold on her way after school is a bunch of garbage on the sidewalk.
She groans lowly as she kneels down to pick a stray soda can. Then tosses it to the nearby trash bin. Were they blind or what? The trash bin is only a few meters away from them and they're that tedious to throw their junks in? Seriously now.
She notices that one of her clips has come off in her trash-picking. She straightens to fix it up and jumps a little when she sees the figure before her.
He has one hand inside his pocket and the other holds a banana that he's currently chewing.
"How attentive," Remarks he. And she's back on bending down to pick the litters on her feet.
"I'm just doing what I've been thought." She says, picking up a handful of water bottles, "That's all."
He nods his head in understanding.
"Why don't you just proceed? I don't think I'm on your way. Go on."
"Oh, does my presence distract you?"
"Yes, it does." She rolls her eyes. "Just go on already."
"Fine. Fine." He walks pass and Rin's about to sigh in relief before a banana peel is thrown onto the same pavement she's on.
"Dear goodness," she sighs. And dips down to pick it and casts it into the trash bin. As she dusts her hands, she notices that he's stopped and is looking at her with a fond smile.
"What? Any other garbage I have to dump for you?"
He chuckles and waves his hand at her. "Nah." And whistles his way to his house.
~~~~|::::|..*..|::::|~~~~
Kaito Shion could've been the school's number one fall guy. It's pretty rare for her not to see him dripping wet after a bucket is dumped on him or see him ruffle his hair off of chalk dusts once or twice in the entire seven hours of school. Usually thanks to a certain blond-haired trickster everyone knows. So, it's such a surprise when she sees him frolicking across the corridor all carefree and fun and not looking like a loser throughout the school hours. And it has been going on for days. God, that Kaito must've been ecstasic.
"Kaito looks like a newly born peep," The verdant-haired girl says beside Rin. Watching the blue-haired teen shasaying around the cafeteria. The blonde continues on highlighting words in her dictionary.
"Yeah," Says she, etching chartreuse on the words that all pronounced 'jikoku'.
"What are you doing?" Gumi leans across the table, taking a peek at the dictionary.
"Homonyms," Replies Rin, "I plan to write a poem with multiple meanings in a single sentence."
"Is that even possible?"
"Natch," Rin closes the dictionary, finally. And puts it onto her her lap. "Say, Yuuai no Hebun, what did you catch?"
Gumi blinks, "Heaven of friendship?"
Rin chuckles, nodding her head lightly. "Anything else?"
Gumi tilts her head, and realization soon dawns on her. "You, I know Heaven?"
"Exactly." Rin applauds.
"But, wasn't that homophone I just said?"
"Yeah, I plan to create it with homophones, too. It'll be a long shot. But it's fun to play with Japanese."
"Hmm..." Gumi finds herself staring at the lexicon for a moment too long, then realises something."I don't remember you have that. When did you buy it?"
"'Get it'" Rin rectifies.
"Eh?"
Rin shifts a little in her seat, looking the tiniest bit tense. She runs her palm across the cover. "Someone... gave this to me."
"Who?"
The blonde flips open her book again. "You know, someone."
"Your dad?"
Rin shakes her head.
"Your brother?"
She shakes her head again.
"Your mom?"
She shakes her head again.
Gumi points at herself. "Your best friend?"
"Oh, sure. It's you." She rolls her eyes playfully.
"Then who?"
Rin pauses on leafing through the book. And sighs, "Actually...There's...This guy."
Rin half-expects her best friend to gasp. So she raises her tome in defense. But much to her surprise and relief, Gumi stays silent. Although her eyes spark with interest and she puts both of her hands on her chin as if she's ready to hear the story further.
Rin clears her throat, unsure if she has to tell the entire story, "Um, he gave me this in a trade for my English dictionary. I have two of them, you know it right? And that's it."
Gumi nods, more than just understands everything that's said, "Very well..." And sits up, "I'm going to the library. Wanna join?"
"Sure."
Rin has to remind herself again how strange it is to see Kaito all airy and jaunty as they make their way out of the cafeteria. It's not like she doesn't appreciate him being happy. She's glad, really. But so much for seeing him all miserable and pathetic everytime they pass ways all because of the resident rogue's daily pranks.
~~~~|::::|..*..|::::|~~~~
"Dear lord," It takes only two steps into the river for her to trip over and ruin her sailor uniform. Although, she can't be more glad to know that this unfortunate event happened after school.
Though still...
"Forgive me." She wades through the fast current in tears. One arm reaching out as the other stretches aside to keep her balance. As she nears the seemingly amorphous pile of metal bars and wheels half-hidden by the frothing rapids, her mind travels to the countenances her brother might give her once she brings his now-destroyed mountain bike home. The thought feels like boiling hot water in her tarsal glands.
If only was she more careful when traversing the bridge that evening, this wouldnt've happened. The bridge is in desperate need for guard rails and she should've walked right in the center of it lest a stray dog lurches from the thicket before her and startles her enough to let go of her holds and let the bike fall from 3 and a half meters height into the riverbed below.
"I'm sorry," She wipes her tears with her sleeve. Reaching out for the bicycle again only to be stumbled into the water thanks to a large rock in the current. And that's when she hears the water churn as somebody else wades along in front of her. He pulls her to her feet by her sides, instead of offering a hand. Like one would do to a fallen toddler.
"You alright?" Asks he, while giving her a once-over.
"I'm...Fine." She replies, though in a tearful voice. Wringing her drenched skirt and tie.
"It's alright. I'll help you." He tries to pull the bike from the water and succeeds, carrying it almost effortlessly back to the river bank. Rin follows him. Asking if the vehicle has received some serious damage.
"Hm... There are some scratches here and there. The right pedal is shattered, too." Hearing this, Rin's frown only enhances. "I have some spare ones at home. Would you like me to replace it for you?"
Rin looks at him in doubt, though hopeful and grateful at the same time. She still wonders if it is fine. "Is it... Okay for you?"
He nods, "Natch. My house isn't far from here anyway. C'mon."
The two go then. Once they arrive at his household. He invites her inside and kindly offers her some of his dry clothes. She can't help to feel both comfortable and uncomfortable inside the moderately larger ensemble.
"This is gonna take a while. You can stay here or watch me in the garage. Which you prefer?"
Rin gingerly fingers the hem of his shirt that she wears. She's sitting on the couch and the tea he's fixed for her a minute ago still remains untouched on the table before her. She immediately picks it up and sips on the tea, then sets it down again. The cup and the saucer clinking against each other. "Um... I think I'll go with you."
The moment Rin enters the carport, there are no cars. Instead, there are three mountain bikes leaning against the wall. Blue, red, and green. Two of them are wrapped in plastics and are bound with pink ribbons, presents from someone perhaps? And a shiny, sunflower-coloured motorbike on the far corner. She watches the blond crouch by her brother's bike and rummage through his tool kit. Pulling out a wrench and begins removing the pedal. She steps closer and kneels down beside him.
Once in awhile, he slips a glance at her, and can't do much about the growing curvature on his lips.
"Why are you smiling?" Questions she. Fluttering slightly in her place.
"Why?" Retorts he, rotating the spanner in his hand, "Can't I smile if I want to?"
Rin doesn't speak further, and just continues on examining him doing his job. Then, to the way his eyebrows crinkle in concentration as he begins to install the new pedal. To the way his long, mussy bangs cast shadow on his big, azure eyes. To the way he grinds his teeth slightly as he tightens the pedal on the crank arm...
When did she suddenly get these kind of details?
She averts her gaze.
Why is she suddenly reminded of the day in amusement park again? How long has it been? Seven months? Eight? Has she really forgotten about it?
Inadvertently, she pulls the collar of the shirt she's wearing. Bringing it up until only half of her face is visible. The material smells of fabric softener, different from the one her family uses at home, and never in her life she breaths in such fragrance. New to her nostrils. And the thoughts of new life and new places and new emotions soon wrap her mind in a firm, tight embrace.
~~~~|::::|..*..|::::|~~~~
Love. Hate.
Isn't there an in-between there?
Hate is too cruel. Love is too much.
She's oscillating on the pendulum of love and hate. It never decelerates, or so she thinks. She'll keep on swinging back and forth, back and forth. Undecided on her own feelings. And soon, her mind will just follow to twirl along with the rhythm.
Or maybe it already has.
It has, since the beginning.
Rin shifts around in her sofa, fingers dancing across a keyboard. The television drones about how to get thick, shiny fur and healthy eyes out of your beloved pet cat. The coffee table is littered with note papers, binders, fluorescent iridescent markers, a laptop, and a Japanese dictionary. Sitting beside her is the stuffed panda she acquired in the amusement park.
"Azuma recoiled. Splatters of incarnadine littered her face, her knees, her boots as the now-corpse of her best friend tumbled to the floor. Her grip on the Bushmaster M4 shook in horror. Her eyes spreading out. And her whole body was soon caught in an enormous tremor of dread-ridden guilt."
She scrolls the page of her document manager up. Re-reading the unfinished strory for the god-knows times. She still can't figure out what to write next on the story. So, she switches the tab on her navigation sheet and the title on the worksheet changes from 'How to World Dominate Ver. 2' to 'Still Untitled' She scrolls the document down.
"It's not like I like her or anything. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that I hate her. But 'like' is too much for me to bear right now, I think. And, of course, I can't hate the self-proclaimed world's number one princess. All thanks to me. Dear lord! What was I thinking? Making promises that are too cumbersome to fulfill. I can't treat her like a princess without looking like—ehem—remember what I said earlier? A dogged nice guy or something. "
Rin types in the document,
"Like a misfortunate boyfriend falling into the hell hole of bondage of his overindulged girlfriend.
Except, she's not spoiled.
Not at all.
She doesn't seem like she cares wether I keep my so-pretty-smart promise to lionize her like she's sitting on the throne of the universe. It's the others that matters. If only I hadn't declared my oath in front of everyone, my life would've been easier. No brows twisting at us as we amble abreast in the school corridors. No whispers and muffled giggles as we sit shoulder to shoulder in the library. No 'oohs' and 'aahs' as I do the daily obligatory kissing-the-back-of-her-hand-like-she-is-the-queen in the mornings.
No gaps between us getting closer. No heart beating faster. No butterflies in the stomach and no face getting hotter."
Rin stretches until her joints crick. Then resumes on typing the next sentences.
"No boy of 14 falling in love with his so-called world's number one princess."
Rin tilts her head at the screen, cupping her chin. She's not even sure if the story is going well. After all, never in her life she writes about romance. Let alone experience it herself. Until what had happened to her recently, natch. She started to find inquisitiveness in the word 'love' that she always ignored and forsook, and that was all she searched in the search engine for the past two weeks. She ended up becoming a fan of a particular drama and anime that she used to shrug off and claim that she doesn't get a thing in them. Particularly the anime, where it stereotipycally tells about a boy who has difficulty expressing his feelings to his crush. When he finally succeeds however, the girl doesn't understand. It takes no less than five episodes for the girl to answer the boy's confession.
And she reciprocates.
Why does she have to reciprocate?
A loud, vexed groan echoes in the room. The blonde leans against the backrest. Gripping her temples that are starting to ache. She catches a flicker from the window beside her. And there, outside, hung on the clothesline, a borrowed button neck t-shirt rolls in billows. Two words were emblazoned on its front:
Love & Hate.
Now, it's getting suspicious wether or not Len was intending to insinuate her about her disorganized feelings. Why did he have to lend her the most pitch-perfect outfit in his wardrobe? Why would he?
Or is it because she reads it from the wrong side?
She bends her neck to the side. Examining the jersey. Is there some kind of secret message there? A riddle?
She blinks once. Then twice. And the only thing flashes in her mind for the mystery is the word: "Quick."
"...You love me or hate me." Murmurs she. Bringing her palms to her face. And breaths out. HARD.
"It's not that I hate you. If someone doesn't love you doesn't mean they hate you."
That's it. Isn't there any word for that kind of thing? No?
All this love and hate thing is driving her nuts. No joke.
What is love, anyway? What's the definition?"
What is hate? Can someone tell?
"I don't know. I just..." She stumbles for words. Although she's talking to no one in particular. She picks the dictionary from the table and holds it at arm-length.
"I want..." A translucent image of his radiant visage paints itself on the cover. And she bites her lip, looking away. Setting the lexicon onto her lap.
She exhales yet another pained sigh, "I want to love you."
~~~~|::::|..*..|::::|~~~~
It takes her a second glance to make sure that the tuft of blond hair at the end of the hallway is Len. That white blouse is a bit too white for him. But when she shifts her gaze to his direction for the second time, she concludes that it really is him.
She drops the idea of visiting the library and approaches him instead.
"Hey."
He nearly lets go of the cellphone he's currently texting with at her voice. "Uh. Oh, hello." He rakes the back his head.
"Um, thanks again for fixing my brother's bike. If you didn't, Rinto could've been gone even more berserk—not that he was violent because of it. He just loves his bike more than anything else."
Len waves his hand in the air, "No problem. Don't mention it. And I don't think your brother loves his bike more than anything else."
"Ah," For some reason, she finds her knees start knocking against each other, "I mean... His bike is one of the things he loves the most."
He's staring at her. And she fidgets under his gaze. There are glints in his eyes that shout at her. She can clearly read their words. They are prisoners. Prisoners inside an impenetrable, shatterproof, glass cage. Two particular words flash before her eyes and strikes through her like a streak of lightning rends the air. And all of sudden, all at once, all her breaths are taken away from her.
"Um, I... I think I should go now. My friend's waiting at the library, so..."
"Go on," He waves his hand, "Don't keep her waiting."
She remembers to bow slightly to him. And dashes off.
It needs more than just deep breaths to console her racing heart after that.
~~~~|::::|..*..|::::|~~~~
Her school breaks are not the same anymore.
He will come right after the bell tolls, like clockwork, she can even admit. Performing some kind of abnormal antics.
One day, he brings along his guitar and sings about a deranged pyromania that will burn down the entire town to search for his love. Another day, he sings about being a cyber boy that lives inside her cell phone, all the way when she's busy texting with her mother.
Another day, he tells her a tall tale about a guy who was in desperate need for a date. Everyone kept on letting him down, doing as far as hitting, slapping, headbutting, clotheslining, battering him everytime he asked them to be his girlfriend. She never knows how the story ends, since the bell rings before he can finish.
One particular day that will be hard for her to forget is the day when he stepped into the class with his hands behind his back.
"Here. Rainbow Quartz." He had said.
She can still remember vividly, how she was both shocked and abashed when she asked him how the heck he could know and he replied,
"Eh, just a convenient encounter I guess. I was just walking by when you were ogling at it." And shrugged.
"Walking by or were you stalking me at the time?"
"Maybe."
It turns out that he's always been trailing behind her all this time. That stalker. She remembers how his figure retreats into a clump of shrubs in panic the moment she turns around to pick her fallen wallet. Or when he just candidly strolls behind her down the sunset hill near the school building. Leisurely. Shamelessly.
"I really don't like your type."
She tightens her hold around the stuffed toy's neck. A fun-sized, snow-white polar bear that he gave during valentine. Treating it like it was a voodoo doll. It had been too late though, at the time, she'd already tasted the sweet, sweet candy of his devotion. His besotted, lovestruck devotion. Teenage infatuation that is all attack and no guard.
"You're full of weak spots, you know that? Are you even sure of your feelings?"
He's just moving on. An anguished guy who'd just landed into the refuse heap of failed love affair. And needed to ignore the cracks that formed in the impact.
"I'm sure of it. Don't worry."
How could she believe that?
How could she believe this queer, thrilling feeling inside her is the same one that he has?
How could she believe if this feeling is even real?
And if this feeling is really the same one that he has, how could he be so sure if it is real?
It's the serene, suffocating eventide that drives her over the edge. It's been six days since his school recess visits had stopped completely. He even avoids her gaze in the corridors, in their lockers, and she never again catches a stealth movement behind her when she walks home.
In fact, it has been a few months since his frequency of paying her a visit dropped a significant amount.
Instead of thanking the gods above her, out of all words, the words that haunt her mind are. 'Has he given up?'
'Has he been ultimately crushed for no longer having the forbearance?'
'Has he been tired of all this waiting?'
'Has he asked someone else?'
She can't take it anymore. She slaps the desktop as she stands up from her seat. In the hallway, she encounters the anonym that she recognises to be Len's classmate and friend. He tells her that the blond hasn't left the school yet, and that, he's on the rooftop by himself. Right after she asks him so, of course.
On the rooftop, she has to pause at the threshold to observe the noteworthy changes he's undergone. Necktie tied in a neat, orderly loop around his collar. Uniform tucked in. Hair shorter and messier than ever. His hallmark ponytail no longer possible to inhabit the back of his head.
She inhales, bracing herself, before she speaks, "The sunset is magnificent."
"Yeah," he replies. She steps closer and accompanies him on the bench by the guard rails. His arms are crossed atop the railing, his chin resting on top. His lips are hidden, but a subtle smile detectable.
'What does that mean?'
'What does that-no, those smiles mean?'
'All those enigmatic smiles he'd flashed. What do they mean?'
Silence stretches around them. She finds herself unable to look away from his unusually nearly-inexpressive features. She notices his fingers curl and uncurl in some sort of agitation. Like there's something repressed. A smoldering amber that is about to set ablaze again. But can't.
It takes no less than five minutes for her to snap. She struggles to gaze at something else. Her own lap, perhaps.
She bites her lip, bracing herself, before, finally, finally, answers him, "I love you, too."
The silence is deafening.
"I want to challenge you." Replies he. The unexpected response renders her baffled for a moment, but she accepts the challenge.
He faces her. And presses his bent elbows onto his sides. A poised stance. "The rules are simple. First, we have to close our eyes and not peek."
He closes his eyes spontaneously. In mild confusion, she mirrors his arms position and closes her own eyes.
"Then, you have to answer what I will be saying after this, clear?"
She nods. Though her head is still spinning by the whole situation.
"I love you."
"I... Love...You, too?"
"I love you!"
"I love you, too."
"I love you!"
"I love you, too!"
"I love you."
"I love—" She draws in a very sharp gasp when she realises that his face has been merely a rat's hair away from hers. In reflex, her hands jerk up and pushes his face away.
"D-Dog my cats if you do this to me, now!" She bellows. Red as a muleta. A tricksy smile creeps its way to the lips behind her fingers.
"Why?"
Rin has a hard time to answer, a really hard time. "I'm... I'm not ready."
However though, his hand comes in a flash to attach itself around her collar. And he pulls her forward, her body catches fire the moment their lips crash in a precipitate, shocking clash.
Her hands instantly run to her face the moment they part.
"Sorry," Titters he ruefully, "I couldn't hold myself. I never got the chance to do this with my ex."
Her eyes peek from behind her fingers. It's an absolute surprise if what he said was true.
"Miku was... How do I call it? She was rather strict and prone to undergo mood swings. And she looked like she was forced to accept me. She had a hard time keeping me near her when her friends were around. And you know the myriad of friends she has. Like, she was embarrassed. She won't allow me to do anything to her either."
Rin can understand Miku's situation, definitely. After all, having a sloven as a boyfriend that loves to sing cheesy love or purely meaningless songs and stalk you on your way home and rain you with tacky presents almost everyday and everytime.
"So, you've known the reason why. Huh?"
"Huh?" What does he mean?
He folds his arms on the railing and puts his chin on top again. "I'm... By default. Am anything but a dork. I know."
She looks at him with eyes that are a mixture of mild surprise and new-found interest. She leans in slightly to listen.
"I just couldn't help myself. Whenever I see someone that makes me happy. I just want them to be happy as I am. That's why I sing and story-tell and give them presents. So they can be amused and happy. I'm unlike typical lovestruck boy. I do this to everyone. It runs in the family, mind you. Unless, if it's the girl I like... I'd always thought by increasing the amount of everything will give greater impact on her. But, as I'd realised recently, it only ticks her off."
Rin wants to say something, but the words are still smokes in her brain.
"My mother had been criticizing about the way I put on my clothes, too. Then I realised, and started to consider wether I have to change or not. To change completely. I kept on leaning toward not to change. Since it's the way I am. The way I want to be. I was hoping that you would just accept me for who I am. But apparently, you're not, huh?"
No, she can barely care less about everything about him.
About everything except the feelings he has for her.
The feelings that she thinks she'll never get from someone in her juvenile years.
"After all, what was that nearly a year-long suspense for—"
"I like you the way you are."
He goes silent.
"I don't care if you're the old you, or the new you." She bites back the overflowing words that she wants to say. And filters them one by one. "In fact, If I have to choose one of them. I will prefer the old you."
The boy stays muted in his place.
She doesn't lie. Not one bit.
"I... I found out that I liked it when you visited me during breaks. I love it when you just randomly tell a random story. And... I'd never heard of those—silly—songs that you sang. Did you make them yourself?"
She wonders what she's actually said for it causes him to chuckle and then laugh uncontrollably. His merriment is hard enough to squeeze tears out of his eyes.
"You..." He manages in his shaking, mirthful frame,"You're the one after all."
She doesn't know how to react. So she just smiles. Elusively. But, it takes only a few moments before her smile parallels his own.
"If so," He begins after his laughter ceased, "Shall I untuck my clothes, then?"
"Go ahead." She says, shrugging.
He untucks his uniform, "May I have the consent to pull out pranks on Kaito again?"
She chuckles at his frivolous request. "Go ahead."
"Can I kiss you for the second time?"
"Dog my cats if I say yes."
He leans in. "So, it's a yes?"
Her laughter increases and she pushes his face away. "It's a no. Baka."
Much to her relief. He doesn't lurch in suddenly like earlier.
"But maybe tomorrow." She shifts her gaze towards the sunset. "At our first date."
"Where?"
"Ya think?"
"The Le Cafe?"
"Hm-hm."
"The Karakuri Park?"
"Sounds fine."
"The Benzene Monument?"
"Sounds fun."
"Or..." He squints towards the distance, "The amusement park?"
"Excellent."
"So it's settled!" He raises from his seat, stretching out his limbs, "4 P.M, Amusement Park. At the bench below the Roller Coaster!"
Rin jumps in. Applauding.
"And..." His tone of voice darkens. "The one that is late will be given sanction," He declares, and she strains her senses in anticipation, "The car that will bring us home in our big day in the future shall be driven by him or her without exception. Understand?"
"Understood," She smirks, "Challenge accepted."
A/N: Gosh, I didn't mean this to be this long. But I hope you enjoyed this almost-nonsensical, silly piece of mine. I was practically half-conscious when writing this (take a guess wether it's a hyperbole or not. :P) I'd also noticed that I'd been scattering shout-outs here and there. From character names to Le Cafe (Yes, Le Cafe. Ever read a story around here that has a Cafe named Le Cafe? No? Okay then...)
I think that's it. I must thank you for your time, too. :)