Title: Stumble and Fall
Author: Avelynn Tame
Disclaimer: I do not own Gokusen.
Summary: A new teacher has arrived at Shirokin, and he's not bothering to hide his attraction to the homeroom teacher of a certain delinquent class. 3-D greet him with their usual kindness and warmth, but Yankumi is far more interested in the reaction of one Sawada Shin…
Author's Notes: Hopefully the swiftness of this chapter makes up for the lateness of the last one. It's also fairly long, so maybe that counts as well? Happy reading…
Chapter Twelve
"The others," he'd said. "They're going to confront the Meibi High guys. Now, tonight. They're making a big mistake. Yankumi…" His tone was desperate, pleading. "I need your help. We need your help."
So now she was running.
Wasn't this how it always was? Wasn't this how it was supposed to be? Running – in a tracksuit, in her jeans, in an expensive black dress and high-heeled shoes. She was always on her toes, always chasing someone halfway across the city because they messed with the wrong guy, never stopping to catch a breath, never thinking that this should be someone else's job – they were her fucking students, weren't they?
Why had she ever thought that Maruyama would understand that?
"Kumiko-san?" he'd said, puzzled and surprised, when she leapt from her seat. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"It's 3-D," she explained, reaching down and grabbing the small bag she'd brought with her. "They're in trouble." She stared down at the bag – it was only going to weigh her down. "Maruyama-sensei, would you look after this for me? You can give it back to me at school on Monday."
"Kumiko-san…" This time he sounded incredulous. "You're not actually going to leave, are you?"
"Of course I am. They need me." She tucked her phone into her bra, ignoring the way the colour rose to his face. "I'm sorry, sensei, but I really need to leave now."
She'd started to walk away, already wondering how she was going to fight in this dress, when he called after her, "But – this is a date! You can't just –"
"I'm sorry," she said sincerely, pausing at the French doors that led back into the restaurant. "I really am."
He'd just sat there dumbly, watching her go.
Several blocks away, as her lungs were screaming for oxygen and she was mentally repeating the address she'd been given, it occurred to her that if she had been on a date with Shin, he would not have watched her leave. He would have stood up and run alongside her.
'Does that make him the idiot or me?' she wondered.
Maybe it was both of them.
She saw him long before he saw her, when she was still at one end of the street and he was at the other leaning against a wall, Minami and Kuma nearby with a couple of the other guys from their class – Mouri and Hattori, she thought, although it was difficult to tell at this distance.
Kuma caught sight of her first, looking up and staring, head tilted to one side as though he had no idea what he was seeing. Understandable, after all – not many women made a habit of sprinting down streets dressed up to the nines. The others followed his line of sight, and she saw Shin push himself away from the wall abruptly, his jaw dropping.
She slowed to a walk when she got closer, breathing deeply as her heart thudded against her ribcage. "Hi," she panted. "Sorry I took so long. I would have been here sooner if I'd had my own damn car."
"Yankumi…" Minami muttered, his gaze skating over her from head to toe. Apparently he couldn't think of anything else to say after that.
She jerked her thumb over her shoulder at an empty-looking warehouse – of course it was a warehouse; these kids didn't have the slightest bit of imagination – and said, "Are they in there?"
"Yeah," Shin replied, his voice sounding strangely choked. "We saw them ahead of us – they got here a few minutes ago. We're going in, right?"
"Uh-huh." She looked down at herself and cursed the day she'd ever allowed Fujiyama to have any influence over her dress sense. This dress was hell to run in, let alone fight… But as she remembered that day they'd gone shopping, she was struck with an idea. "Any of you guys have a knife?"
Kuma's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "You're not gonna - ?"
"Stab them?" She rolled her eyes. "Of course not. Thanks," she said to Hattori who had just handed her his Swiss Army knife. "I'm just making use of one of Fujiyama's fashion tips, that's all." And she bent down, grasping the hem of her dress, and hacked a jagged slit up each side. "Much better." She handed the knife back to Hattori. "At least now I can actually kick someone's ass if necessary."
As she strode briskly towards the warehouse, she became aware that her feet were absolutely killing her. What she wanted most was to take her ridiculous shoes off, but fighting in the dress was going to be bad enough – fighting barefoot would put her at a definite disadvantage.
Shin fell into step next to her. He didn't say anything; he didn't have to. Their mutual understanding had been unspoken for as long as she could remember.
The door of the warehouse was already wide open, and she had to pause for a few seconds once inside to allow her eyes to adjust to the dark. Ahead was another doorway, this one covered with a curtain of thick plastic strips which hung down from an old, rusty metal bar. She gestured silently for the others to follow as she slipped between the strips.
She heard the brawl before she saw it – a cacophony of shouts, curses and pained grunts.
Unfortunately, her boys had found themselves on the losing end of this fight. They weren't exactly outnumbered – they were facing off against maybe fifteen others… but the fifteen were armed with the popular modern thug's weapon of choice: heavy lead pipes. And most of 3-D were already on the ground, spitting out their own blood.
"Oi!" she yelled hotly, marching forward, her hands forming fists. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
They turned to stare at her, halting mid-punch and mid-kick. She saw Noda slump to the ground; behind him, Shimazu was doubled over following a blow to the stomach. None of her students seemed to be uninjured, which enraged her all the more. "I asked you a question!" she bellowed, her eyes searching for whichever punk was likely to be the leader.
A tall, thin boy stepped forward, his fingers wrapped loosely around a pipe. A few seconds ago, she'd seen him swing that pipe at Chikamatsu's midsection. Bastard. "Pretty women shouldn't be in places like these," he advised her. "I'd leave, if I were you."
"Oh, okay," she said lightly. "I'll go right ahead and do that." Naturally she did nothing of the sort.
The tall boy glared at her, irritated. He swung the pipe idly in front of him as he came towards her. "Listen, bitch, I'm busy. So piss off, will you? I don't mind hitting a woman." He leered at her. "Among other things."
She rolled her eyes. "For crying out loud… look, they're my students, so will you just hand them over so we can all go home?"
The boy stared at her in disbelief. "You're their teacher?"
She sighed. Clearly this was going to take a lot longer than she'd thought. "Yes, I'm their teacher. You guys are from Meibi High, right? Look, you've obviously got an issue with my class, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave them alone. You've done enough, don't you think?"
He let out a small huff of laughter. "You want me to let them go? Just like that?"
"Pretty much." She met his gaze firmly. "Well?"
"Forget it." He sneered at her, leaning down so that his face was close to hers, his breath ghosting across her cheeks. "So get out of here before I decide to play with you, too." And he moved forward, his lips bumping her nose in what she supposed was meant to be a kiss.
Yuck. Hardly thinking, she drew back her arm and drove her fist into his stomach. It was a move she'd perfected during her teenage years, when some of the old uncles who visited her grandfather had thought they could treat her like the girls at Yasue's club.
Tall boy fell to his knees, wheezing. The pipe dropped out of his slack hand. "Obviously they don't teach you manners at your school," she muttered. She looked past him at the others. "Do the smart thing," she told them. "Leave now."
A bulky kid with a red bandanna began steamrolling towards her, pipe in hand. He swung it up, preparing to bring it crashing down on her head, but she was more than prepared – honestly, could these kids be any more predictable? She caught the pipe above her head, wrenching it out of his grip and tossing it behind her, barely hearing the metallic clang as it hit the floor. Red Bandanna grimaced, doing his best to land a punch on her face, but she dodged it easily and brought her stilettoed foot up to meet his groin.
He collapsed with a whimper, drawing his knees up to his chest. She eyed the remaining boys, who had started to move towards her en masse.
"Shin," she said over her shoulder. "Get the others out. Don't fight with these guys – leave them to me."
She didn't know if he said anything in reply; she was forced to ignore everything but the dozens of feet and fists that were about to collide with her body. She felt the familiar, heady rush of adrenaline pumping through her bloodstream, charging her mind and muscles. This was her comfort zone, after all. If she could do nothing else in this life, she could at least fight.
And against a pathetic, brainless bunch like this?
The first punch missed her face by a mile and she smashed the heel of her hand into the guy's nose as he tried to regain his balance. He let out a groan, the sound distorted through the blood that gushed freely down his face.
No problem.
She felt her face twist into a half-sneer, half-grin, and bit back an amused laugh when her next would-be attacker took one look at her and recoiled in horror. He hesitated a second too long, and was elbowed viciously out of the way by another Meibi boy, who charged towards her, apparently intending to take her down. She darted easily out of his way, turning to watch as his momentum carried him too far forward. He stumbled and fell, skidding along the concrete and yelping as his palms were skinned by the rough surface. He glared up at her. "Bitch," he spat. "You'll pay for that."
A hand gripped her arm tightly; she turned and found an angry, bruised face several inches from hers. She felt a surge of pride for whichever of her students had managed to defend himself against this brute. "Nice dress," he leered at her. "Shame I'm gonna have to rip it a bit more."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm terrified."
He obviously didn't have a sarcasm radar, if the satisfied look on his face was anything to go by. "You should be."
Oh, for crying out loud… She lifted her foot and drove her pointy, extremely sharp stiletto heel down onto the guy's toes.
He actually screamed, and his face contorted with rage and pain. His grip on her arm tightened, and she narrowed her eyes, lifting her hand and giving him a sharp pinch on the inside of his arm. He let her arm go as a reflex, and she immediately pulled away, using her new freedom to deliver a gratifying kick to his groin. As she replaced her foot on the floor, she sensed a presence behind her and, hardly thinking, she pivoted, her fist crashing into the jaw of the boy whose palms she'd indirectly skinned before.
"This is taking too long," she sighed, eyeing the few boys who were crawling away to lick their wounds. The rest still remained, giving her the evil eye and preparing to attack. "Let's speed it up, huh?"
They took her invitation at face value, running towards her with fists and pipes at the ready. Her heart raced and she could hear the blood rushing in her ears as she blocked and weaved and ducked out of their reach. She slammed her arm into the side of someone's head and watched him tumble to the floor. She wrenched a pipe out of one kid's hand and used it to block another, tossing it aside as soon as she could because she wasn't as much of a coward as them.
In her peripheral vision, she saw Kuma picking one of her students up off the floor, and felt a brief rush of relief. At least they were staying out of it – and maybe if they were sensible, they'd get out of here.
Of course, she thought, as she literally kicked a guy's ass, if they were sensible they wouldn't have come in the first place.
She began to lose count of how many Meibi boys were injured or had run away. She'd lost track of time, as well, and just as she was watching a brawny guy limp away (having felt the force of her stiletto like so many others), she realised that the only one left was the one she'd originally started with.
"Such a brave leader," she said, refusing to back down as he stalked towards her. "Letting everyone else do your fighting for you… I guess that way you don't get any ugly bruises on your face, right?"
He cracked his knuckles. "Just saving the best for last." He gave her a once-over, his eyes lingering in the vicinity of her cleavage. "It's not like I want to give you any bruises either… but you know, there is a way we can solve this without resorting to something like that, if you get my meaning…"
She couldn't hide her disgust. "Oh, for – you're kidding, right?"
The muscles in his jaw twitched and he leaned in closer. "Listen, bitch, you're lucky I'm giving you this chance. If you don't take it, I'll have to –"
"Have to what?" She couldn't repress a smirk. "In case you missed it, I got rid of your friends – most of whom are bigger than you – by myself. What makes you any different?"
He gave her a nasty grin, baring his teeth. "I don't have any ugly bruises because most people don't try to argue with me. At least… not after they see this."
A flash of silver caught her eye as he withdrew his hand from his pocket.
A knife.
Oh, shit.
Behind her, she heard a soft noise. "Yankumi," came Shin's voice, low and unsteady with barely-concealed panic.
If she'd been alone, she would have considered walking away and conceding defeat. It wouldn't have damaged her pride that much, after all, and everyone knew that it was considered a sensible move to back off if you were against someone who was armed.
With twenty-six other living, breathing souls to think about, however… Who was to say that Tall Boy wouldn't use that sharp, deadly blade on one of them instead?
"Looks nasty," she said, ignoring the way her heart rate was skyrocketing.
"It is." He flipped it casually between his fingers. "You sure you don't want to take me up on my offer?"
She shook her head. "You misunderstood. I was referring to you."
It took him several seconds to make the connection. "You stupid bi –"
She wondered if she'd ever moved that fast; as he was drawing back his arm, she caught his chin hard with a right hook and followed through with a powerful kick to his stomach. He fell to his knees, the knife dropping from his hand and clattering to the floor.
He picked it up again, still breathless, and clambered to his feet, staggering towards her with a vicious look on his face. She allowed him to swing his knife-bearing hand towards her, side-stepping at the last possible second and giving herself the opportunity to slam the edge of her palm up against his throat. As he fell, she turned and planted her foot firmly in the small of his back, digging in with her heel.
"Get the picture now, you idiot?" she snarled as he groaned.
Then, in the distance, she heard the faint but distinctive wail of sirens. Oh, crap.
It seemed that the 3-D boys shared her opinion. They turned tail and ran, scrambling for the exit.
A gentle but firm hand tugged at her elbow. Shin.
"Come on," he urged, pulling her away from the guy. She kept a cautious eye on him as they walked away, but he appeared to have given up. They met the others outside and ran together, ducking through the back streets until they were in an emptier part of town, and then they slowed down to a walk.
She stopped briefly, bending down to tug off her shoes and hissing with sharp relief as her hot feet met the cool pavement. "Ah, that's better." She looked up to find that they'd all stopped to wait for her. Her shoes dangled from her fingers as she padded softly towards them. "I'm much shorter without those heels, huh?"
They didn't say anything.
She felt the slow burn of anger begin to rise in her chest again. "Oh, yeah. I almost forgot that you're all a bunch of complete idiots!" She put her hands on her hips and glared at them. "What did I tell you not to do? I said 'don't go rushing in'. So what did you do?" She closed her eyes and let her head dip forward briefly. "You know, I don't care that you ignored me. I don't care that you got pissed off about my personal life. But what really makes me angry is that you actually doubted me." She lifted her head. "How could you think that I'd prioritise a date above this? When have I ever let you down?"
There was still no reply.
She sighed, her free hand moving up to run through her hair. "You know what? I'm tired, I'm hungry, and my feet hurt. I'm going home. You'd better all be in school on Monday."
She'd only got a few steps away from them when Uchi's voice, small and unsteady, stopped her. "Yankumi," he said. "I'm sorry."
"Me too." That was Noda. "I'm sorry too."
After that all she heard was a rumble of soft, overlapping apologies. She shook her head; what was the point in staying angry? They were good kids. They just did stupid things sometimes. And this wouldn't be the first time they'd doubted her, after all.
She turned back to them, a smile twisting her mouth. "I'll let you off. Just this once." As they sagged with visible relief, she raised her voice. "But you guys really need to start trusting me, okay? How long have I been teaching you –?"
"Yankumi," said Minami, surprised. "What are you talking about? We do trust you."
"Right. That's why, when I said, 'I'll figure something out', you got all pissed off and went to confront those guys anyway." She gave them a patient look. "If you trusted me, you wouldn't have –"
"It's not that," Uchi cut her off. "Yeah, we were angry, but it was because of that guy."
"'That guy'," she repeated. "Who are you – oh."
Could they mean Maruyama?
She opened her mouth to ask, but behind her she heard the harsh squeal of car brakes as someone took the street corner too fast. She turned to see a familiar car speeding towards them, and then slowing down sharply, jerking to halt right next to them. The door opened, and Maruyama almost fell out. "Kumiko-san," he gasped. "Are you okay?"
"Maruyama-sensei, what are you doing here?" she asked, forehead wrinkled in confusion.
"I was on my way home, but I heard it on the radio – on the local news – something about police arresting a group of high school kids involved in a fight. So I drove over to that area, and an old guy told me that he'd seen a load of kids and a woman running this way." He managed a half-smile. "He said the woman was wearing a pretty dress." The smile fell away as he noticed the ripped fabric. "What happened…?"
"Everything's fine." She grinned. "It must have been the Meibi kids that got arrested – serves those bastards right, too."
Maruyama glared at the boys. "What the hell were you thinking? Getting your teacher involved in something like that –"
She bristled indignantly. "Sensei, they did the right thing."
"I'm sorry, Kumiko-san, but they didn't." He tugged at his tie, loosening it. "Fighting is one thing, but you can't expect Yamaguchi-sensei to run around after you, cleaning up your mess."
"Maruyama-sensei," she said through gritted teeth. "That's enough." She put her hands on her hips, moving to stand in front of him. "Leave it alone," she said in a low voice.
He gave her a beseeching look. "You're a dedicated teacher, Kumiko-san, but isn't this going too far? Surely you can't condone their actions -?"
"I don't agree with being reckless, or fighting for the sake of fighting, but they had good intentions. And I'm glad they called me."
His jaw tightened. "How long are you going to carry on doing this? How long will they be your number one priority? And what about the other people in your life – when will you have time for them?" He stepped closer to her. "Kumiko-san… what about me?"
He reached for her hand. She looked down at where their fingers tangled together, and was struck by the wrongness of the picture. His fingers should be thinner, she thought, and his grip should be stronger. This should be someone else's hand.
She was about to pull away when something knocked sharply into their hands, breaking them apart.
"Don't touch her," said Shin coldly. "Can't you take a hint?"
Maruyama sighed. "This is a matter between me and your teacher, Sawada-kun," he replied patiently, as though he were talking to a seven-year-old. "Please don't interfere."
Oh, crap, she thought as a deadly silence fell between the three of them. Shin was capable of much more restraint than the rest of his classmates, but equally, he was capable of being much more volatile. She knew his temper well, and she knew the signs of an impending outburst. She moved to position herself between the two of them. "Wow, it's getting late, isn't it?" she said brightly. "Sensei, I'll make sure the boys get home safely. And I'll see you in school on Monday, okay?"
She took hold of Sawada's arm and firmly began to steer him away.
"Kumiko-san," she heard Maruyama say behind her, "you still haven't answered my question –"
"Oh, will you shut the fuck up?" Uchi snarled, making her jump with surprise. "She doesn't want to go out with you, so get over it already and leave her alone."
"Uchi…" she breathed, stunned at his unexpected outburst.
"Kumiko-san…" Maruyama's voice sounded strained. "Can we talk somewhere a little more private?"
"Are you still hitting on her?" said Noda, disgusted. "How stupid are you?"
She stared at them. She'd never heard them talk to anyone this way, not even herself. They could be rude, belligerent and lazy – they always spoke before they thought, and lashed out too easily, and clashed with authority figures – but in all the time she'd known them, she'd never seen them react with this level of contempt or hatred.
Watching them made her stomach twist with anxiety. How the hell was she going to defuse this situation?
"Look," Maruyama began heatedly, "this is none of your business, so please go home. It's bad enough that you've been out fighting with other students – the last thing we want is for you to get into trouble by being caught out late in such a rough part of town. So I'm advising you, as your teacher, to –"
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Minami muttered. "Our teacher? You?"
And just like that, Maruyama snapped.
This was something else she'd never seen before – Maruyama, who was one of the most laid-back people she'd ever met, hardly ever lost control. But apparently the mixture of 3-D and Maruyama Takumi was just too unstable.
"You kids have some nerve," he spat. "No wonder you've got a bad reputation if you can't even treat people with basic respect. Well, it stops now. Maybe everyone else has been lenient with you until now – maybe you even have Yamaguchi-sensei wrapped around your little finger – but not me –"
Kumiko had felt Shin's muscles flexing underneath her hands, saw his fists clenching, and blocked his path quickly, gripping his arms firmly to stop him doing something he could stand to get expelled for.
Unfortunately, she hadn't thought to do anything about her twenty-five other students.
Maruyama's back hit the side of his car, his feet inches from the ground as Uchiyama lifted him by the lapels of his jacket. "You fucking asshole," he ground out. "Who do you think you are?"
"Uchi!" She let go of Shin and grabbed Uchi's arm, yanking him backwards. "Let him go. It's not worth it."
But Uchi's grip held firm. "Not worth it?" He stared down at her in apparent disbelief. "How can you say that? Didn't you hear what he said about you?"
"Who cares about that? Uchi, if you beat up a teacher, you'll be suspended at the very least. You know I'll always defend you, but I can't do anything for you if you're actually guilty." She tugged at his arm. "Come on. Leave it."
At last, he relented, and set Maruyama back on his feet.
She hoped that would be the end of it. But her stomach sank when she heard Maruyama's half-strangled voice.
"I want to know," he rasped, "I deserve to know what the hell it is that you don't like about me. What is it that makes you want to beat me up?"
She resisted the urge to bury her head in her hands. Couldn't Maruyama see that he was only making this worse? Why didn't he just shut up? She cast a pleading glance at Shin, but he was staring at Maruyama, an expression of grim satisfaction on his face. He obviously wasn't going to lend a hand, then.
Wonderful. So she had to fight off the attacking hordes (also known as 3-D) and make Maruyama stop talking… somehow.
This was turning into a great night.
"… what we don't like about you?" Uchi was saying. "What's to like? You're a worthless piece of crap. The only thing you've ever been interested in is smooth-talking your way into Yankumi's pants –"
Wait, what?
"– but we always knew you were a dickhead, anyway."
A few of them sniggered childishly, but she hardly heard it. "A-Are you serious?" The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. "That's what this has been about?" Her eyes darted from Uchi to Maruyama to Shin, who was standing next to her looking as cool as a cucumber, and finally back to Uchi again. "Your problem with him… is related to me?"
"Well, duh," Shin muttered under his breath, so low that only she could hear it. Only the fact that she was still reeling from this revelation stopped her from smacking him.
Uchi looked more awkward than she'd ever seen him. "Well, what did you think?"
She was almost lost for words. "I-I thought you just didn't like him because you thought he was geeky, or annoying, or something –"
Maruyama blinked. "You think I'm geeky and annoying?"
She ignored him. "I mean, I thought that's how you guys saw me when I first arrived."
"You weren't that bad," Uchi muttered reluctantly. "But with him around, it's like… you don't…" He mumbled something under his breath.
"Huh?"
"You don't…" He heaved a pained sigh. "You don't pay as much attention to us."
Her first thought was that he was joking, but one look at his face – his mouth twisting with embarrassment, a vibrant shade of red creeping up his neck, his eyes fixed on some indiscriminate point on the ground – told her otherwise, and she felt a terrible, shuddering ache in her chest. Oh.
"I… didn't realise that mattered to you," she said, hating the way her voice sounded so small.
"Idiot," said Shin, to her right. "Of course it matters."
Surprise and guilt clogged her throat, and she fought to speak. "Well… then, that's my fault, not Maruyama-sensei's. And I'm sorry. I should have thought about you guys."
As the last syllable left her mouth, she felt something cold and wet hit her bare shoulder. The first few drops of rain were small and light, but the shower quickly became a downpour. "You have got to be kidding me," she muttered, staring upwards into the darkening sky.
Still, the tension was easing, it seemed. The boys were more focused on the rain than Maruyama. She stared at them, looking as many of them in the eye as she could. "You're my students," she said, raising her voice to be heard over the splattering of the rain. "You'll always come first. You know that, right?"
A few of them grinned. Most of them just looked a little brighter than before.
"Okay. You'd better go home. And I'll see you on Monday." Her hair was getting wetter by the second, and she was becoming aware of a trickling sensation between her breasts. At least she'd been able to prevent Fujiyama applying mascara to her eyelashes, or who knew how awful she'd look right now?
As the boys departed, splitting off into smaller groups and disappearing from sight, something warm and heavy was draped over her shoulders. Her hands flew up automatically to grasp it, and she realised it was Shin's jacket. He had not moved away from her side. He glanced down at her and reached out, his hand skimming her hair as he pulled the hood up over her head. "Thanks," she said quietly.
"Come on, Kumiko-san, I'll give you a ride home," said Maruyama, his own jacket pulled awkwardly up over his head. He eyed Shin warily. "You too, Sawada."
She saw Shin's lips curling into a sneer, and intervened hastily. "It's all right, Maruyama-sensei," she told him. "I'll walk with Sawada. I want to talk to him about 3-D, anyway."
"But –"
"We'll be fine," she said firmly. "I'll see you on Monday."
She had only made it a few steps when she heard Maruyama's voice behind her. "Here."
She turned; he was holding out her little bag, the one she'd left with him at the restaurant. "Might as well give it back to you now." He gave her a little half-smile. "Our date… wasn't exactly what I expected."
"Me neither," she replied. "I guess it wasn't meant to be… senpai."
He gave a little huff of laughter. "I guess not." He sighed, and pulled open the car door. "Monday, then, Kumiko-san."
"Monday." She waved briefly as he fired up the engine and pulled away.
And then it was just her and Shin, standing alone on a dark, deserted street.
The loud grumbling of her stomach broke the silence.
Shin's lips twitched. "Figures you'd be hungry after a fight."
She wrestled with his jacket, slipping her arms into the sleeves. "I didn't exactly have time to eat, you know? Someone called me and dragged me away before my food arrived."
"You're glad I did, and you know it." His hair was plastered to his head, and his eyes were dark as he stared at her. "Want to come back to my place? I'll cook." He shrugged. "It'll be ramen, but…"
"Sure."
He took her small, wet hand; she felt his thin, strong fingers threading through hers and smiled. This… whatever it was… was right as much as it was wrong.
And she didn't have the strength – or the will – to fight it any more.
Author's Note: Okay, only one more full chapter, and then an epilogue, and then we'll be done! Hope you guys enjoyed this one.