Be My Girlfriend

Chapter Nine

o oo o

It always felt like flying.

The adrenaline pumping, the strong force of the wind against your face, the pungent smell of the rubber, the sound of your heavy panting. Although it may seem like a hyperbole, I've always imagined flying was like that. Flying has always been associated with freedom since birds always seemed carefree whenever the soar up in the air and go wherever they desired. Men always longed for a tool for escape, e.g. wings. Men always wished for things they can never have. For me, because humans were not equipped with appendages used for flying, their legs were always their best weapon for escape. I, for instance, consider my feet as the best equipment for breaking free.

Track has always been my passion since I was a child. It provided me solace, a time to run away from the reality when your only world is the track, the rubber and your determination to finish the trail—when your only world is the sound of your heavy breathing after reaching the finish line. It was peace to me.

I crouched down, eyes closed, breathing in the fresh autumn air and trying to concentrate on my only goal. Opening my eyes slowly, I stared straight ahead. Exactly a hundred meters away, there stood my coach with a small, red flag on one hand and a blue timer hand watch on the other. I waited for his signal and as soon as he lowered the flag, I quickly broke into a run.

In eleven seconds, you can type about fifty characters in a keyboard without stopping to look at the computer screen. In eleven seconds, your conscious mind can process 176 bits of information, the unconscious mind, 121 million. In eleven seconds, a lot can still happen and change the ending of a close-fight basketball match. But in eleven seconds, even I could not finish a hundred meter lap without wondering later on, what exactly went wrong.

According to the latest tabs my coach kept for me, my hundred-meter record was 12.23 seconds. Before I came to this school, it was 13.02 and I was happy to see that I've improved over the past few weeks. Today, my latest tab would read 12.00. Only a second less and I would beat Akagi Takamura, the top hundred-meter dash athlete in our district. For a few, it may seem like an easy job to be able to run a second less than 12.00 but for me, it would take a great deal of effort, a few more weeks and a couple more stamina boosters to beat that guy. I had to, of course. I knew that. In no less than a month, the district competition would take place. In no less than a month, I had to get ready and prepare for my match.

"So far, you're doing a great job," my track coach spoke with a smile, while patting my back as I panted. Droplets of sweat dribbled down the side of my face. I took the hand towel he offered and dabbed my sweat with it after muttering my thanks. "11.54 seconds. You're not far behind."

"Really?" I snapped my head up to see if he was really telling the truth. "Really? I did that?"

He nodded vigorously, his expression seemingly overwhelmed. I, too, felt more than pleased. He spoke again, "Although your chart seemed to fluctuate a bit last week, at least you've shown me how much you've improved. Just stick on the diet list I gave you and try to keep your stamina balanced. You'll do better."

I nodded with a smile on my face. "Yes, coach."

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow then," he told me while patting my shoulder to gesture his farewell. He began to walk away.

"How about later after school?" I called after him and he waved a hand. He didn't look back, however.

"Since you did a good job, I'll give you a break!"

I chuckled lightly; partly thankful of the spare time he just awarded me. "Thank you!" The truth is, I heard the rumors from a few upperclassmen talking about my coach dating a cute substitute teacher from the elementary department. My hard work was just probably his excuse, but I was still thankful nonetheless.

I sat on the stone benches alongside the oval while trying to catch my breath and clear my head for a while when Misaki-senpai approached me. After briefly exchanging our pleasantries, he sat beside me and offered a bottle of distilled water and a smile.

"No thanks," I told him while wiping the sweat off my forehead.

"You need to be hydrated," he said, insisting.

"It's really inconvenient. I'll hydrate later." Ever since I entered track, I've been told not to drink water after a run. It helps improve stamina.

Silence took over for a while as I waited for Misaki-senpai to find the right words to start the conversation I knew would soon come. As much as he can, he never left the air dead.

"Ah!" he screamed so suddenly, I nearly fell off my seat in surprise. I snapped my head to one side to look at him.

"What?"

"There's something different about you today," he told me while tipping his head to one side, as if deep in thought. "A new haircut? No, no," he pondered aloud.

"Did you grow taller?" he asked suspiciously.

"As far as I know, no." I would be glad if it were true though. Otherwise, I would still need a few more stretching exercises. Besides, longer legs would help better in sprinting.

"Ah! I know!"

"Misaki-senpai, you're creeping me out. Say it already."

"You've gotten prettier," he spoke with a demure smile, like a high school girl confessing to a boy she liked. I guffawed at his silliness. He shook his head. "No, I'm serious. That hair clip looks really good on you."

"Eh?" I ran my finger up to fiddle on my hair where the clip Kyo-kun gave me held my bangs in place.

"Your face looks neater without your bangs on."

I flushed slightly and muttered my thanks before he chuckled and said that I looked cuter when I blushed. I punched the side of his stomach so he would stop, only after I blushed deeper red.

"Did Kyouya give that to you?" he asked, his voice a little more serious.

"Eh? How did you know?"

His smile made me think that he knew something that I didn't. "I have my sources." He leaned closer to whisper to my ear. "The truth is, I'm the host club's stalker."

I looked at him warily, suddenly suspicious. Frowning, I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out. Misaki-senpai seemed to notice my apprehension and thus began, "That, Rei-chan, is a joke."

I blinked carefully and after processing what he just told me, I gave him another blow, and this time, on his ribcage. "Ow. That hurt."

"Why do you find it amusing to make fun of me?"

"No, no. I was only teasing you. You're really fun to tease." He recovered soon and laughed for another round. I frowned at him, suddenly having the urge to strangle him and chuck him in the nearest garbage can.

"Well, sorry for being a fun-to-tease-kouhai!"

"Like I said, I was only joking," his smile turned apologetic. "But really. The truth is, I have someone I like from the host club."

I jumped again, surprised at what he just revealed. Clapping my hand over my mouth, I gasped and pointed a reproachful finger at the guy beside me. "Don't tell me you're a—a—"

I made sure no one around or close enough to hear the rest of my words. I leaned closer to Misaki-senpai, tugged his tie down to make up for our height discrepancy and whispered on his ear, "—a homo."

I shuddered at the word.

For a moment, he was quiet. I let go of his tie and watched as he blinked rapidly to process my words. When I figured they did, he hurled forward in laughter. Bewildered, I pulled him up again, grabbed his shoulders and shook him slightly, as if trying to wake him up. "What? Er—why didn't you tell me earlier?"

He stopped for a second or two, and I wrinkled my eyebrows to tell him how confused I really was. He laughed again. "Why are you laughing?"

"Ha-ha!" He wiped the tears of his mirth away. "I didn't know you had a wild imagination! Of course, I'm not a homo! You're being silly!"

"Then what is it?" He was beginning to creep me out again. As far as I know, all the members of the host club were all male.

"It's Haruhi," he finally said. His voice turned sincere and quieter, as if nostalgic. "We attended the same middle school and ever since, she's been really pretty, even now. It's a pity she cut her hair but it's not about the looks that I fell for. It's her strong personality."

Wait. She? Haruhi-kun is a girl? Ow, my head hurts. "What are you talking about? Haruhi-kun is a guy!"

"She's a girl!" he insisted. "I have no idea why she's pretending to be a guy, or if the host club knows her real identity but Haruhi is a girl."

"How can you be sure she's your Haruhi. Haruhi-kun could be any guy with the same name, you know."

"I've been in love with the same girl for four years and you're telling me she's not Haruhi? Who are you kidding?"

My head really hurts. It was too much to process.

Silence passed, as I tried to comprehend what I just learned, or if there was any rationality behind Misaki-senpai's revelation. Haruhi-kun is male. Why did he kept on insisting she was a girl. Ah, wait. Didn't Misaki-senpai say they attended the same middle school. If that was the case, Misaki-senpai was telling the truth.

"If you really like Haruhi, why didn't you confess to her?"

"AH! Ow, ow!" I jumped at his odd reaction. "A bee bit me. Ow! It hurts."

"There aren't any trees nearby!" I knew he was avoiding the question. "Ah! Don't tell me . . . you chickened out?"

He rubbed his ear. "Uh, come again? For a moment I lost my sense of hearing. Can you repeat what you just said?"

"I said—!"

"It must be the bee. I really can't hear you."

I was right. He was avoiding it.

There was silence again and I waited for things to settle in so Misaki-sempai would stop acting childish. Soon, he broke it as he cleared his throat.

"I was scared," he began with a low voice. "Haruhi was really popular with boys back then (though she's 'till popular until now, only with a different audience) and a lot of guys confessed to her. All of them got all rejected."

"So you were scared of being rejected?"

"Yes." His smile was different, it was . . . forlorn. "At most times, I was happy watching her from afar, thrilled when I'd get a chance to talk to her on quiz bees and IQ contests outside school but sometimes, I wish we could get closer. I thought about confessing many times before but . . . all attempts were hopeless."

"Even so! You should have confessed!"

"Like I said, I was scared."

"Getting rejected doesn't matter, as long as you're honest with your feelings! You're worse than a homo!"

He opened his mouth to argue back but words fled him. He sighed wearily and stared far ahead. "Tch. You're right."

"I am right!" I thumped my chest to emphasize my point.

Silence reigned once again and Misaki-senpai broke it just as quickly. "How about you? How did you and Kyouya get together?"

"Eh? Gankyo-kun?" I spoke with an annoyed tone. "We're not really together. We're just pretend—AH!" Oh god, I slipped. "AH! Ow. A bee stung me! Ow! It really hurts!"

I tried to avoid eye contact but I could feel Misaki-senpai's eyes looking at me suspiciously. "So, you were just pretending, huh?"

"Pardon? I can't hear you properly. It's the bee! The bee!"

"Don't worry!" Misaki-senpai assured me. "I'm not going to tell anyone. We're like . . . 'Secret Partners.'" He joked while winking. I stared at him for a while, asking for reassurance. He responded with a smile.

"Yes, Secret Partners," I repeated while giving him a thumbs up to tell him I agreed. "I'm not going to tell Haruhi-chan—er, Haruhi-kun about your secret. I won't tell anyone about her secret either.

He copied my gesture. "That's right. We're Secret Partners!"

o oo o

Later that afternoon, after I've washed up, I met Ruka on her way to History. I caught up with her soon enough and grabbed her arm to catch her attention.

"Ruka," I spoke her name and she stopped, spun her head around and scowled the moment our eyes met. Friday, she avoided me. By weekend, we didn't really have the chance to talk since 1) I got lost on my way to her house, 2) my money was stolen and 3) Kyo-kun held me back yesterday. Monday morning, she avoided me. This gibberish had to come to an end.

"What's wrong with you?" I moaned, worry and concern washing over my reaction. "You've been avoiding me lately and I'm supposed to be your friend. I'm freaking out, trying to figure out what's wrong. Talk to me."

"Friend?" Ruka scoffed unwelcomingly. "You call yourself a friend? You went against my back and stabbed me and you call yourself a friend?"

"What are you talking about?" I didn't understand her at all. I couldn't even remember I did anything wrong that upset her. "I've been worried."

Ruka spoke with a sardonic smile. "Worried? You don't even care about me!"

"Of course I care!" I argued back desperately. "I won't ask you what the matter was and think of something to help you if I didn't care in the first place!"

"Aiya, you really don't have any idea, do you?" She crossed her arms and glowered at me. "You're so dense. You're so slow; even a turtle is better than you!"

"Ha?"

Suddenly, a strange feeling of déjà vu washed over me.

"Anyway," she continued, now a tone lower. "Don't talk to me for a while. I'm still mad at you."

With a last grimace, she turned her back on me and walked away.

"A turtle?" I repeated quietly while making my way after her. "What's with the turtle? Wait! Ruka! Wait for me!"

After class, Shiki gave me a call and asked if I could drop by the convenience store after my part-time job on the cafe. I asked him why, he told me he won't tell, but I told him I'd make sure I'd go see him later before four—

"Who is that?" I jumped at the sudden sound and almost dropped the handy phone on the floor. Just as I was about to end the call, Gankyo-kun surprised me with a sneer and a dangerous glint on his rounded glasses.

"Uhm," I began while snapping the phone close and dug it into the pocket of my jeans. I changed to civilian clothes long after classes finished. "Shiki. Ei—it was Shiki."

"What did he call for?" he asked, his eyes still hidden from the reflection of light on his glasses. His lips curved upwards slightly, but it gave off an ominous feeling. His mere presence, in fact, always impressed doom on me.

"Er—he's asking me to drop by his work place tonight," I told him truthfully. Lying, I knew, would only press me deeper to the black hole I was in, especially when I was lying around Gankyo-kun.

"And you were planning to not tell me about it?"

I blinked once, probably twice. I shuffled forward to get close to him, leaned an inch more and whispered. "Aren't we just pretending? Why do you have to ask?"

"It's because I want to know." His 'Intimidate Rei' powers were starting to work on me again.

"You don't have to know," I said, which was entirely true. Unless . . . "AH—!" I clapped a hand on my mouth in shock. "Don't tell me—are you jealous?"

The wink and the smile I gave him did not abash his calm composure. Right. I should not have said that. I should not have said that. I should not have said that. I looked away from him; I didn't want to see his face.

"Sometimes," he began, while pointing a finger at me. "You do better if you listen to me very well. You can start by answering my phone calls and responding to my e-mail. They are far more important than this—" He lips twisted downward. "Never mind."

A few students walked past and suddenly, Kyo-kun gripped my wrist tight and pulled me closer. He leaned in and next thing I knew, something soft pressed on my forehead. I heard a few squeals nearby and when Kyo-kun let go, I stared at him with a confused expression. I ran my fingers to my forehead where he pressed something on and rubbed the spot. "What was that for?"

"To refute wrong rumors. They're somewhat getting out of hand." For the first time, I saw Kyo-kun smile. He turned to the students who had walked by and nodded curtly with another smile. I heard a few whispers as they walked away.

"...so that's why Kyo-kun never hosted..."

"...always thought he was a homo..."

"Come on. I'll drive you to your work place."

o oo o

I arrived at the convenient store a little past four. I travelled it by feet while pondering along the way on what Kyouya just did. It was probably for pretend, but wasn't the charade only for Akiko to see?

Ah, wait.

"To refute wrong rumors," I repeated what Kyo-kun just said. "And 'always thought he was a homo,' huh?"

I knew it. "A homo." Who wouldn't have guessed?

"Why are you muttering to yourself?" Shiki greeted with a warm smile. I stepped inside the convenient store, the familiar tinkling sound echoing on my ears like music.

"I knew it. He was a homo. That's probably why Akiko broke up with him," I told Shiki with a serious look on my face. "Should I dump him?"

"What are you talking about?" he asked me with a questioning look.

"Ah." Right. I shouldn't be talking about this to anyone else. Only Kyo-kun and I knew about it. Oh, and Misaki-senpai too, because we're Secret Partners. "Never mind. Anyway, why did you call?"

"Nothing," he spoke while shrugging unknowingly. "I just . . . wanted to see you."

"Hn?"

"Anyway, come here." He gestured me to the chair him. I shuffled forward to the counter and I noticed something was amiss. I voice this aloud and Shiki returned me with an innocent look on his face.

"You look . . . different," I told him while tipping my head to one side. I moved closer, invading his personal space. He backed away slightly. "AH! You cut your hair! It's shorter now."

He gave me a brief round of applause while hooting, "Excellent observation, Ashina Rei!" He patted my head gently like he used to, then ran his fingers through his hair, combing it. "I dyed it a lighter color too."

"Yeah," I agreed while nodding. I reached over to touch his soft mane. "What happened to your black hair?"

"It's naturally chocolate brown. I cut it shorter but it's still long enough to tie it back."

"Hm," I began, not knowing what to say. I've known Shiki ever since I came to this town and he's been my first friend. As I've known him, he worshipped his hair more than anything else. He didn't want anyone else to touch it (except for the store's manager and the a few selected people he was close to—on bad days, he excludes me) and it somewhat bothered me that he actually had a haircut. He's been sporting his long, black hair for as long as I've been around.

"What?" he asked, seemingly noticing my unusual silence.

I bit my lip and responded awkwardly, "Are you Shiki?"

He chuckled quietly before replying. "Of course I am! What—I can't have a haircut on my birthday?"

"Oh." My lips formed to a comical 'o' while nodding slowly in understanding. "Now I get it."

Wait.

"Your birthday?"

I spun around, ran to the direction of the calendar to check the date. October 10th. Oh my.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" I snapped at him.

"As expected," he muttered loudly, his lips quirking. "You've forgotten."

"I didn't forget!" I retorted rather defensively. "I just forgot the date!"

"Did you prepare a present beforehand then?"

"Uhm—" The truth is; I haven't. I had to think of an acceptable excuse. Think. Think. Ah! "I was planning to buy on your birthday!"

"Really?" he raised an eyebrow suspiciously. I looked away from him.

"Ah, yes."

"So," he began. "How about it?"

"Eh?" I asked dumbly.

"After my shift," he spoke, pointing a finger at me. "You go treat me out. Didn't you promise me that once?"

Promise? Ah, yes. I gave him a smile and thumbs up of reassurance. "Sure."

o oo o

It was a cheap fast food chain around town; Shiki understood how broke I was at the moment. Besides, I was trying to complete my savings so I could pay Kyo-kun half of what I owed him.

Drinks were served in small paper cups and Shiki insisted I ordered tea. We ordered karaage and ate our meals while slipping a few words and laughs in between. After dinner, we hit the streets and Shiki walked me to the dry market as I looked around for items that I could hand to Shiki as a present. I found something appropriate: an orange hair band. He accepted it thankfully as he tried it on. We laughed about it afterwards.

Night had long settled and when I checked my watch, it read half past eleven. Shiki said it was late so he'd walk me home. I dismissed him quickly; I still have something in mind.

"Besides," I told him. "There are still thirty minutes left on your birthday. Let's go."

Shiki protested heavily while I pulled him to a run. We stumbled upon a convenient store and brought two sticks of cheap fireworks.

"What are those for?" Shiki asked curiously, as I led him to the empty riverbank, where it was quiet. We could ignite the fireworks there.

"For your birthday, of course!" I told him as if it were a statement of fact. "Well, because you didn't have a birthday cake, these may serve as a substitute."

Fireworks, as what Len had told me, drove away bad spirits and rotten luck. We always lit fireworks together when we were younger and it has always been a part of our annual routine during birthdays.

Shiki and I settled at the far end of the riverbank, exactly right under a tall tree, a few meters away from a tall lamp post. I checked my watch again; it was five minutes before midnight—five minutes before Shiki's birthday would end. Len always told me it would be a lot more significant if you light the fireworks before your birthday ends. He didn't, however, told me what significance it actually held. I didn't bother to ask; I didn't care nonetheless. Lighting fireworks was fun enough for me that answers didn't really matter.

Shiki took out a matchstick and lit both the firework-sticks. As soon as the flame of the matchstick kissed the end of our fireworks, the sticks cackled brilliantly, both illuminating our faces. I couldn't help but smile. I turned to look at Shiki's expression, and we shared the same expression.

"This is really fun!" I told him, a laugh threatening to escape my lips.

"Ha-ha!" His voice was light and hearty. "Look at yours. It's burning faster than mine."

"Well, sorry then!" I pouted rather childishly.

"This is fun." His smile was still there, seemingly permanent. I relished watching him enjoy the moment. It was his birthday, after all.

"Ano," I began, tugging his shirt to catch his attention. He looked at me with a curious expression. "Thanks for being born."

I waited for the words to settle in. His blank, confused stare somewhat took me aback. The flame of the fireworks was extinguished soon. First mine, followed by Shiki's and suddenly, I couldn't see his face. My eyes had trouble adjusting with the darkness.

For the second time that day, something soft pressed on my forehead and I had to blink rapidly to get used with the lack of light, only to end up disappointed. Shiki spoke softly but enough for me to hear, "Thank you."

o oo o

A/N: After Gankyo-kun and Obaasan's comical relationship, there goes the Secret Partners. LOL. Ruka and Rei's argument was supposed to sound non-serious. It turned out badly, I guess. Tell me what 'ya think.

And please do check these fan-arts out (I made them a few weeks ago to get the writer's block away):

Rei Ashina: http(colon)(double slash)moi-paints-a-smile(dot)deviantart(dot)com(slash)art(slash)Ashina-Rei-163677497

Rei and Kyouya holding hands: http(colon)(double slash)moi-paints-a-smile(dot)deviantart(dot)com(slash)art(slash)Don-t-Let-Go-163678789

A News Article on the Couple (five years later) - this may be a spoiler though but there are still no solid plans on the ending: http(colon)(double slash)moi-paints-a-smile(dot)deviantart(dot)com(slash)art(slash)Ootori-Kyouya-News-Article-164223552

Just change the words on parentheses with their respective punctuations. We all know Fanfiction is screwed. Although there are also links on my profile, if you want an easier way. Anyway, do drop by on those URL and enjoy. Thanks! :)