Title: Sawada Shin's Day Off
Summary: One man's struggle to take his mind off his homeroom teacher.
Rating: T
Disclaimer: The usual blurb (i.e., Gokusen and its characters belong to Kozueko Morimoto; OHHC and its characters belong to Bisco Hatori, etc.).
Spoiler warning: The events are centered around Chapter 8/9 of vol. 7 of Gokusen. I'm making use of two minor characters from Chapter 10 of vol. 4. The story also references a minor plot line in Chapter 35 of Ouran High School Host Club.
A/N: Work in progress.
2. The Wantons
With Kasanoda gone, and Hiromi still away chatting with her friends, Shin had at last found some solace in his solitude. Idly, he glanced down at the pristine form attached to his clipboard. He toyed with answering a few to pass time, but the questions were all too predictably inane -- Describe your past relationship (if any); How did you meet? How long did it last? What kind of guys (girls) are you into? Describe a perfect night out; etc.
This makes that quack fortune teller's job way too easy. He considered strategies of completing the form to maximally annoy "Madame Hades," but he quickly dismissed it as childish. Bored, he picked up the thick stack of densely filled out papers that Kasanoda had left behind. Without reading a word, Shin could well imagine the content therein. It's probably one giant hyperbole fest, all flowers and stars, angels dancing and birds singing; he thought with amusement and nausea in equal measures. That poor sap has got it bad.
You are a hypocrite, a stern internal voice accused him. He hated that voice, which always sounded too much like his father and tended to pop up under the most unwelcoming circumstances. At least he is facing his feelings honestly, which is more than what we could say about you.
Leave me alone already. Don't just randomly speak up uninvited; it's rude, you know.
The relationship between one's ego and super-ego transcends politeness, the voice retorted archly. And don't change the subject.
OK, look, I'll admit it, she's important to me, but that doesn't mean I want to live in a cottage for two by the seaside with her. Besides, I don't even find her physically attractive. My situation is completely different from that Casanova's.
Ohh? Is that so? Shin's fear of a prolonged internal dialog, however, did not materialize.
"Sawada-san, the Madame is ready to see you." The chipper greeter girl interrupted his thoughts. She took Kasanoda's clipboard from him. "Oh, I see you did have quite a lot to share! How refreshing for a young man!"
Shin grimaced a little, but didn't bother to correct her mistake and just followed her without another word.
The Madame's parlor was a heavily perfumed small room, draped to an inch of its life in varying shades of purple. A prematurely wrinkled woman sat a top piles of cushions; her eyes half closed. Heavy damask curtains gently swayed behind her.
"Eh!?!" As his eyes slowly adjusted to the candle light, Shin was shocked that he recognize the woman. It was "Alice-chan ," the hostess who still brought nightmares to his dreams. Could the cloaked girl in the front desk be Toshiko-chan? He wondered what sort of land mine he stepped on this time.
"So we meet again, Young Master Red Lion, or should I say, Young Master Kasanoda?" she spitted out the words between a menacing half smile. "So the rumor of 'the yondaime union of the century' is true."
"No, you've got me mixed up with someone else," Shin said cautiously, trying to back away. "I am just Sawada Shin, a high school student from Shirokin. I was just dragged here by my date. I don't have any business with any yondaime or whatnot. I will be taking my leave now. If you'll excuse me..." To his terror, Shin found his legs giving out from underneath him. The fragrance in the room oppressed his breathing. He found himself breaking out in cold sweat.
"I'm afraid that is quite out of the question. You see, I am a member of the Sendo kumi, and as your sworn enemy, there is no way that I can let the Kasanoda family form an alliance with the Kuroda family. I will break your omiai with Kumiko Yamaguchi by any means possible. So I'll have to ask you to sleep for a bit," she laughed her little sinnister. "But you don't have to fear for your life. You're a real cutie, so I'm sure we'll have some fun together."
An omiai for Yamaguchi and BossaNova?!? So... drowsy. Can't... fight... it... offff...
It was night time. Dark clouds loomed heavily overhead, not permitting a ray of moon light to penetrate through. A bitter wind howled and kicked up the sands on the beach. Soon, it would rain.
Where am I? Shin felt disoriented. The surrounding looked vaguely familiar, but it was not Shirokin. Isn't this… Okinawa? He recognized the place to be the beach where he and Yamaguchi had searched for Ucchi on the recent school trip.
Oi, oi! This is no time for a dream sequence! Just now, wasn't there something important, something dangerous happening? He sank down onto the beach, burying his head in his arms. Ugh. Why can't I remember? It had something to do with…
Kumiko? Suddenly, a specter of a woman appeared before him. Her long black hair and her billowing white kimono fluttered wildly in the strong wind as she floated over the water, receding into the horizon. He couldn't see her face clearly, but he knew, in the way we all just know things instinctively in dreams, that it was her.
Wait! He chased after her, but as if under a curse, he was moving in slow motion. The sands beneath were like a thousand hands clinging onto his legs. The gale-grade wind was tackling him head on, resisting his determined pushes forward. And right on cue, a flood poured down from the sky. Even in dreams, she exhausts me, he muttered.
Nonetheless, he was making progress. The specter appeared to be closer now, and he could distinctly make out her features. She looked different from the everyday Yamaguchi. Ethereally pale and delicate, she seemed like a classically idealized painting of the real thing. In the rain, her drenched robe clung to her slender frame, exposing perhaps more flesh than what is considered decent. He was reminded of that other night when she dived into the ocean. That time, he had to surrender his jacket to her so as to avoid the temptation of leering at her and the consequence of getting beaten up into a bloody pulp. Unlike in real life, though, the apparition was neither embarrassed nor angry. She seemed oblivious to his presence and his hungry stares. Unable to stop himself, he reached out toward her. Just as his arms were about to clasp around her waist, the apparition and the world around him all just vanished.
He stumbled forward and fell to the floor. When he looked up, he was once again in that hated warehouse where Kudou kept them captive. Next to him, he spotted her lying in a heap in her usual red tracksuit. Tentatively, he touched her shoulder, uncertain whether this scene would also disappear.
It did not.
He was surprised by how warm she felt. He did not think dreams could be so realistic. Although unconscious, she resembled more of the real Yankumi than the ethereal apparition just now. What should I do now? Lug her outside, where her Shinohara-sensei awaits? No, he decided. If he wants her, he'd have to come in and find her for himself.
Gently, he held her with one arm, and with his other hand, he caressed her cheeks to clear away stray strands of her hair. Looking at her face, he felt strangely calm and content, even though he knew it was just a dream that he couldn't rouse himself out of.
Her lips quivered, and he had an uncontrollable urge to cover them with his own. But even as he bent down toward her, the scene was already disintegrating. He thought he heard her whispering a name:
Kasanoda.