Edit: If this is a second notification you receive about this update. I apologise wholeheartedly. Seems to be an FF server problem. Hope they fix this soon!
Forgot to mention this in the previous chapter. I am aware that in the U-17 timeline, there's supposed to be a world cup. Well since this was drafted way before those chapters were released, the story won't touch that subject. Otherwise it'll throw my original plot off course.
The two chapters might seem...ah...lackluster...at first, but rest assure they are vital to the story's plot and Akemi's relationship with the guys.
Anyway, thanks for the reviews! You guys are awesome!
December arrived, bringing in a spell of cold and dry air to the east coast of Japan.
Days grew shorter and evenings darker.
People huddled in their thick coats and took shelter in the warmth of indoors.
The first of winter was upon them and yet the maple trees outside the library's windows were fully ablaze in their fiery glory. The golden leaves seemed to burn in the weak afternoon light before the pensive eyes. The amalgamation of colours swirled and blurred into a thin haze of gold and red that clung to Akemi's field of vision the longer she stared.
Listlessly, she watched the leaves swayed in the breeze.
Huh.
It's Monday after all.
Elbow propped on the table and head nestled in the crook of her hand, Akemi glanced away from the vivid colours. Her eyes darted left and right; from the opened pages of the tattered notebook, to the loaned laptop and finally to the disarray of brochures and prospectuses scattered across the table.
After a few moments of deliberation, she picked up the forsaken pen.
XXX
4th December
Thursday
"No package for your captain today?"
They said third time's the charm.
Strictly misleading
Akemi shook her head. Her thin-lipped smile curved tautly at the corners, as if nailed onto her face. Folding her hands neatly in front of her, she bowed deeply from the waist. "Thank you for coming again, Ueda-san."
The abruptness caught the courier off guard. Dumbfounded, he stared at her until his voice crept back. "U-uh yes," he flustered, "there is another stop I need to go."
"Then I won't hold you back," she said evenly. "Your hard work is really appreciated." Arching her back further, her black hair cascaded over her face.
Shouts, muffled by distance, erratically broke the silence stretching between them.
Closer to ears, the shoes scuffed the footpath.
For as long as their owner hesitated, Akemi held onto the stance with dogged resolution.
Eventually, the heavy and awkward tension inside him grew overpoweringly uncomfortable to bear anymore. Uttering a half-hearted farewell, the courier briskly drove the trolley away, leaving the lone figure lost in the abyss of her thoughts.
Akemi traced the smooth and elegant flow of black ink running cursively across the envelope. A spike of excitement caused her heart to flutter when her fingers brushed the seal. Her touch lingered over it, longing to bare the paintings hidden within the envelope to satiate her ravenous eyes.
'Yukimura-san...'
On top of vigorous training, exceeding expectations and keeping his teammates in line, the captain had enough on his plates to deal. In spite of that, he's able to create superb chef-d'oeuvres while meeting the camp's high standards.
Akemi felt bad...
...immensely so.
His paintings deserved a better place than the pages of her book.
Akemi balled her hand into a fist, clenching it for a few moments of silent frustration before it unfurled flaccidly and dropped like a dead weight at her side. Heaving a sigh sent a wave of exhaustion crashing down on her. With a heavy heart, she tucked the unopened envelope under an arm and plodded down the stairs with a torpid pace.
'What am I doing?' she asked herself glumly for the umpteenth time.
The moment her foot touched the bottom threshold, three eager-looking first years flocked to her. Glistening sweat covered their forehead, faces flushed and breathing harsh as if they just finished a marathon.
Then again it could be from doing laps around the court.
"Senpai!" Urayama gasped, clutching onto his knees for support. "The courier came?"
"He left minutes ago," Akemi nodded, glancing at the curious postcard-sized white envelope in his grasp. "What's that you have there?"
His gaze flickered to the envelope as though suddenly remembering it was there. He lifted the envelope to chin height, laughing shakily from the exertion. "Oh this?" His toothy grin, so full of unsullied candour and insouciance, reminded her of a certain Junior Ace. "It's nothing, really – just a card."
"It's a good luck card to Kirihara, buchou and the rest," Nakamura added. "We even got a charm from the shrine too! Look!"
Said amulet – or omamori as they're rightfully called – was promptly dangled in front of her face. Gold threads wove in and out, embossing the shrine's name and a peony (the symbolic flower of good fortune and bravery), on the scarlet silk pouch.
Scarlet...
Her innards bristled at that very name.
"What do you think?"
Feigning a smile pained her more so than forcing out a little laugh. "It's nice." I want to puke. "That's very thoughtful of you guys. I'm sure they will like it!"
Okabe hummed pensively. "We'll have to wait until tomorrow though," the mousy-haired junior mused aloud, "since we missed the courier."
"Then, wait we shall!" Urayama punched the air, earning a round of cheers from his fellow first years.
Akemi stood behind the barrier that segregated her murky cloud of despondency and their rays of sunshine, watching the delirious scene unfold with a frown. It had been so for the past few days...to feel detached from the outside world.
It was getting all too suffocating.
She wanted out.
She needed out.
"Oi! First years!"
Heads swivelled.
Marching up to them was a rather peeved Sakurai.
The third year stomped to halt.
"What's going on here?" he barked hotly. "You're being too noisy! If you have so much time pottering around, do something more productive – like fetch the tennis balls for instance!" He roughly swung his racquet in a wide precarious arc, as if deliberately to warn the first years, and pointed at the disarray of balls littered across one of the courts. "Ya'll want people to get injured?"
"NO!" the first years exclaimed, standing rigidly in attention.
"Then clean up the mess before I break yer bones!"
"YES!"
"Tsch! Brats!" he huffed, glowering after the juniors scampering for the court. He made to turn around, but stopped abruptly, left foot sticking out at an awkward angle.
Looking quite like a deer caught in the headlights, the manageress stood rooted to the spot. Her feet were spread apart, as if frozen in the process of retreating just like him.
His enraged expression disappeared with a poof, giving way to a toothy grin.
"Aneki!" Sakurai exclaimed, slapping her shoulder hard once in an exuberant form of friendly greeting. "Didn't see you there!"
Akemi leaned away when the third year bent forward to study her features with a pensive expression.
"Were the brats giving you a hard time?"
"What? No!" she protested, startled. "Where did you even get that idea?"
"Really? But I thought you..." he trailed off, scratching his head in befuddlement.
She inwardly sighed in relief. That was a close call. Backing up a couple of steps for a bit of room to breathe, Akemi set her jaws taut. "On another note, senpai."
"Yeah?"
"Age wise, it's inappropriate to call me aneki," the manageress chided, rubbing her sore shoulder. That slap hurt a lot. "People might think I'm disrespecting my seniors."
"Disrespect?" Sakurai threw his head back and guffawed, much to her chagrin. "Nonsense! If anyone told you so, that's a white lie!"
"Well...that never –"
"Anyway, you're not denigrating anyone. We, old timers, are doing this voluntarily! Take it as a nickname."
"But –"
"All I'm saying," he waved a hand flippantly, "it's just a harmless joke."
"...meaning I'm being excessively sensitive?" Akemi coolly inferred, brows drawn together into an ominously flat line.
"Eh!? N-no!" Hands raised in defence, Sakurai chuckled nervously, slowly backing away from the brewing dark storm. "That's not what I'm trying to convey –"
"Sakurai, stop exacerbating," a weary voice interjected.
Smiling ruefully, Ishikawa stepped around his best friend. "You're digging a deep grave as it is." Turning to Akemi, he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "Please forgive my friend here. He might come across brash and callous –"
"HOI!"
"– never takes a couple of seconds to think before opening his mouth –"
"ISHIKAWA!"
"– but he's a genuine softy. His only downfall is his shyness to admit –"
Blushing furiously to the tips of his ears, a simmering Sakurai grabbed a fistful of his jersey and shook his unfazed friend mercilessly, spitting death threats and the occasional denials.
Akemi glanced away from the one-sided scuffle that had broken out in front of her. She hugged the envelope to her stomach in a crushing hug, numbed to the pain the sharp corners were causing.
She took a step back.
"I don't deserve such glorification."
It was a while too long when the third years realised the manageress had walked away.
XXX
That night...
Akemi brought the chequered scarf closer around her mouth.
The consoling soft fabric covered nearly half of her face by the time she was finished grappling for the scanty warmth. Heaving a weary sigh, she perched on the edge of the fountain, breathless from trudging through the plaza. Her slumped back was aching from the weight of the grocery bags in her hands and the schoolbag on her shoulder.
Gloomy thoughts swirled inside her head.
Thinking...
...analysing...
...reflecting...
...wading through this endless drudgery...
...just thinking.
Akemi was, in the lightest term, knackered.
Under the abusive hands of her obstinate-self, her mind was battered dry. Every tendrils of energy from her body were siphoned in revenge.
She didn't resist.
She'd lost the desire to return home after picking up a few necessities from the supermarket. Her parents were out for a friend's dinner party in Yokohama. The pets were fed before they left and most likely in a deep state of slumber to even acknowledge the third person. Going back early was pointless.
Resigned to that decision, Akemi shook the grocery bags off, rested her hands on the ledge and leaned back. Behind the scarf, she breathed another dismal sigh. The five minutes' walk from the supermarket felt like an eternity of traversing the treacherous Cuillin Mountains of the Isle of Skye.
Cold pinpricks of the granite tiles dug into her skin.
She stayed in that position, listening to the night whispered its mellow symphony and watched the twinkling stars danced against the dark backdrop. Gradually, she felt more at ease. The autumn breeze licking at her face felt warm.
Soon lost among the bright constellations, she hadn't a clue how much time passed. The dessert was growing warm in the grocery bags. She was deaf to the gushing fountain behind, the gossips, chatters and laughs of the shoppers resonating around the plaza.
She was in a world of her own...
...and for once, it was contenting.
The watch suddenly beeped twice, pausing for a second before beeping again.
Akemi snapped away from the trance-like state, swathes of starlight dancing before her visions. Hefting her schoolbag onto her lap, she fumbled inside for her phone. Without bothering to check, she answered the call and pressed the receiver to an ear.
Had she taken a momentary peek at the screen...
"It's been awhile."
...she would've dropped it like hotcake.
"How have you been lately?"
The girl didn't budge.
"Akemi-san?"
The noirette dithered over this straightforward question, torn between dismissing the call and committing perjury. Both left a vile taste in her mouth. Her tingling fingers became entangled in the folds of her skit as she fiddled with the hem.
Akemi licked her lips and swallowed an uneasy breath down a constricted throat.
Why is he calling? He never called. It had always been emails.
Why now?
Her heart hammered against her ribs as speculation after speculation popped up in her head.
"Couldn't have been better, Yukimura-san," Akemi lied with a mocked chirp.
She couldn't in the end.
Why was she always...pathetic?
Swallowing nerves, she gathered herself and ploughed on. There's no turning back from this steep path. Getting caught out by the captain with her guard down was the least favourable thing to do. "And yourself? How is Genichiro-san doing?" she asked conversationally. "I hope the others – Kirihara-kun especially – have been behaving well."
"I'm fine and healthy," Yukimura chuckled as if it was a light-hearted joke she made. "Genichiro? I'm sure you can imagine how lively the vice-captain is here. Same goes for everyone. They're their jolly usual selves."
Akemi frowned at those ambiguous words but kept it to herself as the captain spoke again.
Prompted for an update on the club's progress, she told him everything she could recall, often referring back to her club journal. The tedious phone call dragged on for another ten minutes or so. Her frazzled mind was at its limit. She couldn't understand half of what he said. In spite of that, she held her ground firmly, drawing out a roster for tomorrow while hanging onto every word drifting from the speaker.
Akemi took her role in the club very seriously, managing the club efficiently without external assistance (special exception: training menu).
"Thanks for keeping me up to date," Yukimura closed the lacklustre conversation.
"Pleasure's all mine." Akemi inwardly sighed in relief, uncrossing her aching legs. She began to gather her belongings. There's homework to be done and a gnawing hunger to obviate. Once the call end, she'd leave –
"One more thing."
– or not...
Biting back a groan, Akemi sat back. "What is it?" she asked jadedly.
"I just want to say thanks. What you're doing for the club, we appreciate the effort you always put in."
"You're making me blush, Yukimura-san," Akemi chuckled dryly. Was that what he wanted to say?
"I do mean well," he defended earnestly.
"Sure you do." The noirette winced at her tactlessness. "Sorry, I wasn't snubbing your good intention – long day," she added evasively, hoping it would get him off her case.
"Does sound like it."
Brows furrowed into a wary frown.
He agreed too easily. And there was that sudden pique of interest in the way he spoke.
"Would you like to talk about it?"
Akemi bit her bottom lip. She had carelessly strayed from the path.
"If you need help on the chapter, I can lend a hand."
She grew rigid on her perch. "I said nothing."
"Speculations."
From the lack of package received.
Though calm and gentle on the surface, his voice lacked its previous humour.
Did she...upset him?
"According to Ueda-san, you look increasingly worn out as of late."
Brown eyes widened to the size of platters. "You...the entire time...you've been keeping tabs on me through the courier?
"I have to, Akemi-san," the captain admitted evenly, pausing for a moment to allow her chance to speak but Akemi remained dumbstruck. "I can hear it from your voice alone right from the start. You're lost aren't you?"
"..."
"As an artist, I understand the sentiment very well. How it's like to suddenly have his steady flow of great inspirations and ideas stoppered at the unlikeliest moment." He chuckled sheepishly, as if reminiscing a particularly mortifying past. "Losing focus on a piece of work isn't that impossible.
It isn't uncommon either."
Akemi had no trouble believing that artists and writers shared a few problems. His admittance though, sounded preposterous and crudely unfounded to her ears.
"So let me help," he offered. "Let me know where the roadblock is."
"...I'd rather not, Yukimura-san – please." Akemi broke away from the charade with a sigh of resignation, sick and tired of this torturous roundabout game she'd set on herself. "I can't place more burdens on your shoulders. It's not like I have no faith in your capabilities...I can't forgive myself if the book diverts your focus from training more than necessary." She shook her head. "The U-17 camp is important isn't it? To scrounge everything out of it for the sake of the club's future...didn't you say so yourself?"
"I have promised to lend a hand –"
"– if need be," she interjected solemnly. "The paintings suffice our terms. And I'm asking you to break that promise for now." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Yukimura-san. It can't be fixed that easily.
It went quiet from the other side. Briefly, she wondered if she'd truly offended the proud captain.
"Akemi-san, what truly happened?"
That was unexpected...
"The moment you received the message from Aihara-san, you were ready to put everything on the line for your work to be published. You stood up against the editor when he suggested romanticising the relationship between the Princess and the White King. You'd do anything to have that manuscript printed to your taste, even if it meant gambling with the chance of turning an editor away."
Akemi slowly rose to her feet.
"I saw the passion then. Where did the fire go?"
"I..." she faltered, clenching her fist. "I'm sorry, Yukimura-san. I need to go. Bye."
XXX
Fire?
What fire?
Akemi tossed and turned in her bed.
Books littered the study desk and the carpeted floor wasn't spared. Unable to stay focus on a line, she'd given up on homework half an hour ago.
Tugging the duvet up to her chin, she flopped over to the window with a restless sigh. The moon hung in the night sky, indifferent to her quandaries. Eyes closing, she curled into a foetal position and slipped into a troubled sleep.
XXX
Scarlet took out a softcopy of her summer exam slip and the psychometric test completed as part of the registration process. After scanning the two sheets, she gave an appreciative nod.
"I can see your strength lies in science, far outweighing the humanities. It shows in your grades." Scarlet glanced up from the noirette's summer exam slip. "Joining the science career suits a person of your competence. I'm sure of that," she added to herself. "Do you have anything particular in mind?"
This couldn't get awkward enough.
"Thank you for the compliment," Akemi started tentatively, curling a finger around a lock of hair.
'Oh, this is ridiculous! I didn't trek across campus for nothing!'
Taking a deep breath for courage, she straightened her back against the chair. "Don't get me wrong, I do love science. But I've set my heart on being a novelist since a long time ago." Feeling reinvigorated, she ploughed on confidently, "I love writing. The thought of people seeing my work fills me with joy, even if they can't be bestsellers or win a prominent award."
Something cold behind the grey eyes hardened. "I see."
The noirette shifted uncomfortably in the stifling silence as Scarlet jotted down on her form.
"Noda-san, you lived in the UK until most recently correct?"
"Three months ago, actually," the noirette expounded, puzzled when the counsellor went back to writing.
"Being a novelist sounds grand," the counsellor piped up, pausing to check for mistakes. "There are many out there who are living proves. Regrettably, the reality isn't. Writing a book is one thing, but getting it published?" She shrugged vaguely. "No matter how many query letters you send, if an agent doesn't recognise your work – and even if you manage to obtain a lesser known company – you won't be able to live comfortably on the meagre wage this kind of job brings."
Cool grey eyes regarded the stunned noirette with a hint of reproach.
"At least not here."
Akemi was aghast, a slap in the face.
She felt belittled, as if she hadn't known these facts from the get-go. She wasn't born yesterday for crying out loud!
And who was she to say she would be living in Japan for the rest of her life!
Her hands curled into fists, clenched to stop the trembling to no avail. Scarlet's attention was fixed on the clipboard to notice it. The noirette was tempted to point out that she was sought out by an editor, that though Classic Mori was small, it held a fairly decent reputation in the Japanese market.
But...
...she wasn't certain of the future of the contract with the publishing company after her first book.
"I understand that. Truly, I do," Akemi insisted, the words tumbling from her mouth. "I'm working hard towards that dream."
Scarlet arched an eyebrow as if challenging her. A jarring click sounded when the clipboard made contact with the coffee table. Crossing her legs, the counsellor gazed straight into her eyes. "Noda-san, I hope you realise that your final year determines your undergraduate programme. I believe your homeroom teacher briefed your class on this rudimentary matter?"
"Miyagi-sensei did," Akemi flew into defence, fighting to stay at an acceptable civil level. She's practically a visitor here.
"Well then, I trust that you're aware of entrance exams held by Japanese universities."
'Again with this!'
"Accomplished graduates are actively pursued by major companies who keep prestigious universities like Rikkai Daigaku under close watch. But the first step is to get into these universities. You must pass the entrance exams which are tailored for the degree of choice."
In other words, she had no say in her future?
"You said so earlier, that science is your favourite subject," Scarlet continued indifferently. "With that sort of enthusiasm, I'm sure you'll fare well in third year."
"Does it matter if I pick one over the other?" Akemi countered. "I might end up taking an entirely different discipline at the university. Doesn't that mean my final year at high school is wasted?"
The corners of her rose lips briefly twitched upwards in what could have been a derisive sneer. "Chance of getting through the first screening is little to nil with your current standing," the counsellor elucidated.
A humanity degree was an obvious choice should she pursue her career as a novelist. To be eligible for it, her grades must be top notch. In Rikkai, History's taught as part of the humanities stream's curriculum. Both knew how miserable that went for her during the exam.
Thunderstruck and humiliated, Akemi was lost for words. She's here for guidance from a professional...
...not to have her ambition torn apart and trampled coldly under those impractical stilettos.
"I suggest you're better off doing science in your third year," Scarlet maintained with a note of finality as she delicately picked herself up. She moved the hourglass from the centre of the coffee table. The top half was completely empty.
Akemi mimicked her move, sweeping up the notebook into her arms. She followed the counsellor stiffly.
"I can't stress this enough. You must take a holistic approach towards your future," she continued indifferent to the begrudged noirette being guided to the door. "Short-sightedness will take you nowhere." She beamed, holding the door ajar. "I'm glad we had this discussion today. But until you've found an answer – until you show more commitment – come and see me again anytime."
XXX
The ceiling spun before her bleary eyes.
Nauseating.
Her head felt like it was brutally smashed against the wall.
Turning away, Akemi laid a hand against her pulsating temple and the other on her churning stomach, face contorted in agony. She gritted her teeth as the throbbing in her skull persisted with the monotonous vibration of her phone. She glared witheringly at the offensive object. Ignoring wouldn't get rid the headache.
Grumbling, the noirette shuffled across the bed enough to brush the phone off its perch. It tumbled onto the dusk blue bedspread where it quivered nonchalantly until a finger tapped the green icon.
Phone set on speaker mode, she dropped her head heavily on the pillow with an unladylike grunt.
Akemi didn't think the connection would establish...
"And a good evening to you too, grump."
...prematurely.
Just when she thought of shrivelling up in embarrassment, something about that sarcasm rang a bell. Maybe she did strike her head against the wall in her sleep but there's no mistaking that haughty, I'm-better-than-thou undertone.
"What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time, bumbling idiot?" the voice demanded exasperatedly.
"...Keigo-san?"
Akemi sensed an eye-roll.
"No, it's the Easter Bunny," the Hyotei captain retorted.
Rubbing at her eyes, the noirette sluggishly shifted beneath the duvet to gaze down at the ostentatious picture of a smirking king. At least she was sure he was smirking. Her drowsy state couldn't make sense of the distorted picture. He seemed to be dancing to a jolly tune in his head.
Akemi cocked her head in bemusement. "Why are you calling?"
"Look at the time, idiot."
Oblivious to the number of nicknames she'd gained in a span of a minute, Akemi peered at the clock on her bedside table.
9:03 pm
Right, the Hyotei captain always called her at 9 o'clock sharp.
Akemi bit back a yawn. Now was not a good moment. She opened her mouth but quickly closed it again. Frowning in puzzlement, she ramped up the speaker's volume, pressed the phone against an ear and listened intently.
She steered around the pattering of feet on ground, clothes shuffling with movement, trees rustling in the breeze and finally reached what she sought...
...the distinctive sound of rain hissing in her ear.
It was weak, easily melding with other ambient noises if she wasn't consciously staying alert.
Akemi peeled the curtains open to convince herself that the signs weren't overlooked. The stars visible through the light pollution winked back at her as expected.
She was once told of his fondness for evening strolls – a good opportunity to take in the fresh mountain. Surely getting drenched in chilly temperatures was nigh improbable for a man who whinges at the smallest things.
"Are you out in the rain, Keigo-san?" she ventured, turning away from the view with a trace of cark.
"Please," Atobe scoffed, "it's just a sprinkle of water. I was jogging around campgrounds when it started drizzling a minute ago. There's a gazebo nearby," he added briskly, as if sensing her worry. "On the rundown side but a shelter nonetheless."
Despite the turn of events, Akemi found herself chuckling wryly. Carefully, she lowered herself onto her front, propped her elbows up and brought the phone closer. Her eyes flickered to the purple-wigged teddy bear behind her pillow. Steadfast Ursus had been watching over her alongside Mr Jenkins (the stuffed elephant toy from the school festival) every night without fail. The sullen looking bear met her gaze with a long and defiant stare.
Feeling a little childish, she stuck her tongue out at Ursus before addressing the similarly purple wi – haired (she quickly corrected with a muffled snort of laughter) – captain. "If the gazebo is truly as horrible as you perceive, I highly doubt you'll get under the roof of an unstable structure that might fall apart in 'a sprinkle of water'."
Akemi amused herself by imagining (effortlessly) the Hyotei captain was talking through Ursus. It wasn't difficult really.
"It's tiny!" cried the bear, as if he was kindly asked to dance naked in the rain. "You can hardly move about in there!"
"I believe you once called my bedroom a shoebox," she reminded airily. "Yet here I am, resting on a two metres long bed and talking to you comfortably. Mighty King Keigo-san, you have an awful habit of making a mountain out of a molehill."
Needless to say, the long-winded (one-sided) harangue that ensued fell on deaf ears.
Akemi rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "If you have nothing more to say, I'd like to sleep thanks."
"Oi! I'm not done –"
"It's been nice talking to you –"
"We barely have a decent conversation for more than a second and you have the audacity to –"
"Goodnight to you too."
"Now hold on, missy! Don't you dar –"
With a tap of her thumb, the room plunged back to a peaceful silence.
Akemi swept the phone aside before dropping faceward onto the pillow. Rolling onto her back, she rested an arm over her crinkled forehead and closed her eyes with a sigh. There won't be any sleep tonight though. Her head thrummed with the daunting reminders of readings, deadlines and of course the book.
She was lost.
She admitted it.
This emptiness lurking within dispirited her from getting anything done. Rewriting the original plot to suit children should be a breeze. It's not like she's creating one from scratch again. Yet her mind seemed to stop the moment she picked up the pen. Days of staring at blank pages left her frustrated and anxious, inadvertently affecting her focus during class and homework.
Though the deadline for submitting the final manuscript was next January, Akemi was behind schedule. She couldn't ask for an extension, not when it was already pushed back because the editor-in-chief took the looming winter exams into account.
Why?
Why her?
Why during this crucial period?
Snuggling into her pillow seeking for comfort, a weak whimper escaped from the back of her throat.
"By jove, you do sound terrible."
Akemi slowly sat up with a rustle and glanced around vacantly. Her room was empty as it should be. She shrugged and went back to rest.
"You better not sleep on me, missy."
No mistake...
Rising again, Akemi picked up the phone warily. The phone was dead quiet, but it was glaringly obvious from the lack of blackness on the screen that the line wasn't. How could she have missed the screen's glare when it was so close to her face?
'Must have pressed the wrong button,' she shrugged, tapping the red button –
Once
Brows knitted into a deep frown.
Twice
Lips pursed into a thin line.
Thrice
Attacking the screen on the same spot with a flurry of manic taps, a numb pain crept up her thumb. She ceased the vain attempts, gasping for air as though the wind was knocked out of her.
She was wide awake now, stirred by the violent cocktail of shock and confusion overwhelming her aching head.
How?
How did he?
Did he possibly?
"Keigo-san," her voice was surprisingly calm despite the vehement fire within, "did you...by any chance...tamper with my phone?"
It felt a century passed before the masculine voice filled the ringing silence of her bedroom.
"Tamper?" Atobe echoed in disgust. "Why would I waste resources on an outdated model?"
"Stop being sarcastic." Even outright admitting his dastardly deed, the nerve of that shameless idiot! "I can't end this call! What did you do?"
"Works like a charm isn't it?" he drawled. "I shall personally thank the R&D guys. A job well done indeed."
"You're not making any sense!" she snapped.
He tutted, pointedly nettling her. "Haven't you notice anything different about your phone?"
"No," came the terse reply.
"What you're holding isn't the original."
"What?"
"On the evening we went out for dinner at the hotel, I swapped that ancient contraption while you were in the washroom."
Akemi froze.
He seriously...
Shaking her head furiously from the stupor, she studied the phone in several angles, turning it here and there under the table light. Just as she was about to give up out of frustration, something caught her attention.
1. 11. 5. 13. 9
It wasn't a long time ago similar figures were accidentally discovered on the sapphire necklace and watch bestowed upon her by the captain. She had shrugged it aside as trivial. Their reappearance on the back of her phone was no coincidence, certainly not if the item potentially passed through the young heir's hands before hers.
As a gobsmacked Akemi gapped at the numbers, Atobe crowed in the background.
"Everything except the phone's design were replaced with the most cutting edge and superior technology Atobe Zaibatsu can offer." His ego flared to the outer reaches of space as he enskied the name Atobe. "Don't you think that picture of mine look more striking?"
"Heavens no."
"You adore wronging me, don't you?" Atobe chuckled darkly.
"I hardly think this is the most appropriate moment for one of your whimsical fantasies, Keigo-san," Akemi snarled, gripping the phone harder until the ends of her fingers turned pale. "Where's my phone before you took it?"
"Scrapped."
"...pardon?"
A sigh of exasperation filled the room. "Akemi, Akemi, Akemi. I fail to comprehend your dissatisfaction. The phone in your hands is packed with the best hardware around, you should feel blessed."
"Do you expect me to kowtow?"
"I'll never subject anyone to do something denigrating," he hissed, mortified at the idea. Clearing his throat, he went on in his usual pompous manner, "An acknowledgement will suffice. Of course, throwing in a batch of those brownies doesn't sound bad at all."
Akemi rubbed the bridge of her noise. Already, the headache was splitting her skull in half (metaphorically speaking). "Please, for the sake of my sanity. Tell me you didn't violate my privacy just for brownies. All you have to do is ask nicely and I'll happily throw a batch your way."
"That's absurd! I'll have you know I'm not that desperate for those brownies!"
"Then why did you..." she trailed off, waving a hand irately in the air before letting it drop with an exasperated sigh. "What is your motive? And don't tell me it's all for my own good because I fail to understand how thievery is noble."
"Look, there's no need to get this upset, Akemi," Atobe placated, only to receive an indignant huff. "I did it with good reasons...you leave me with no choice."
A sense of foreboding flooded her senses, as if a bucket of ice cold water was tipped onto her head.
"I'm coming over."
"Really funny, Keigo-san," Akemi chuckled uneasily, drawing invisible circles in the air. "You should be a stand-up comedian."
"As much as I would like to humour you all night, there's something I need to affirm with you face-to-face. I've just sent a message to Michael. A helicopter will arrive in five minutes."
Her heart leaped with an incongruous emotion that mystified Akemi into stillness.
She rested a hand over her chest where that puzzling feeling originated, buried deeply under a mountain of restless thoughts. For a fleeting moment, she'd felt extremely thrilled for a companion. She wasn't sure when it started – avoiding human interaction. Even talking to her parents dwindled to a few words, as if indisposed of expending energy which could be use on her book.
A waste anyway...
Akemi cast aside such selfish yearning. There was a pressing matter at hand. "Don't be silly," she tried to dissuade the equally stubborn captain. "You can't leave camp on a whim!"
There was a shuffle of movements, as if Atobe was rising to his feet. It was then Akemi realised that he seemed to have found his gazebo at some point during their conversation. She could hear droplets of rainwater pelting the roof.
"Be back before they know it."
"I-idiot! Who waltzes out of camp in the middle of a night? You think they won't notice a Black Hawk coming to land on their property? You'll get into deep trouble!" She ran a hand through her dishevelled hair, growling in vexation. "Why are you even doing this?"
Shoes crunched to halt.
"Akemi, whenever something's gone awry, you hide it."
Her heart gave a twinge of apprehension. "...that's not true."
"Codswallop."
Akemi blushed furiously.
"Oh? The bird's early."
She heard it too...
...the hum of the magnificent rotary blades slicing through the atmosphere as the giant bird drew closer.
"Excellent timing." He was on the move again. "Akemi, prepare a steaming pot of Yorkshire tea for my arrival."
Effrontery didn't cover it.
"Leave the dessert to me. Michael prepared the chocolate forest cake that you –"
"Fine!"
Footsteps stopped dead.
Though Akemi couldn't see, her gut feeling sensed a (infuriating) triumphant smirk tugging at his lips.
"Oh? You will?" Atobe challenged her resolve with feigned surprise. There was a subtle note of hope which went unnoticed.
Akemi chewed on her bottom lip. This wasn't about pride...it never was in the beginning. Sure the audacious man intended to break the rules recklessly out of his own free will, but...
Her shoulders sagged in defeat.
...she'd never forgive herself if he faced severe backlash from the camp...
Sighing bitterly, Akemi sat back on her knees. "Promise you won't do something pig-headed?"
"Pot calling kettle black," he mumbled gratingly under his breath before raising his voice. "A gentleman keeps his promise and an entrusted secret to his grave."
"Morbid..." she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes at his dramatics.
"But on the condition you promise to stop this ridiculous habit of bottling up plights and keeping a tight lip about them."
His admonishing tone...this young man really was a doting aunt.
"I'll try," Akemi assured. "Tell your pilot to turn back."
"Deal." Frenetic tapping issued from the speaker. "Done."
A nervous knot began to writhe inside her stomach as the rumbling of helicopter faded away from the background noise.
"Happy?" Atobe prompted after a moment of silence.
Afraid not.
"Why don't we start from the top? How have you been?"
"Oh bloody spiffing well before you decided to ring, thanks."
"Right, I'm calling the helicopter back –"
"Stop! For heaven's sake, stop!" Her gaze averted in remorse, cheeks flushed. He was trying to help her out. "I'm sorry. J-just...give me a bit of time to sort out my thoughts. Please?" she pleaded meekly.
"I have all night."
"You have a curfew in an hour," she aptly pointed out.
"Shut up."
XXX
10th December, Wednesday
Chiyoda Ward, Tokyo
Surrounded by towering offices, the Edwardian building looked rather out-of-place in modern Japan even though the metropolitan structures stood well away.
Akemi studied the impressive architecture in wonderment.
How odd that a grey building fascinated her more so than the burst of autumn colours around her.
If the Hyotei captain could see her now, he'd have let out a contemptuous scoff, poke fun at her – and later quite grandiosely shoot his mouth off, declaring the stack of bricks in front of her was nothing but a quaint garden pea compared to the Atobes' ornate (not to mention colossal) Georgian manor.
Her eyes shifted to the wrought-iron gate looming before her and the odd tourists milling about.
'Rather ghastly,' she reflected, studying the coat of arms bearing a golden Lion and a silver Unicorn, 'for a mythical creature to be bound by chains, even if it is a heraldic symbol.'
"Excuse me, miss?"
A security guard greeted her politely with a touch of his immaculate cap. Regarding her Rikkai uniform with an impassive expression, there was an air of caution around him.
"May I ask if you're here for an appointment?" He tilted his head towards the envelope in her arms.
"Oh, yes!" Akemi flustered, realising she had strayed a bit too close to the closed gates. She swiftly bowed. "4:00pm. Noda Akemi."
Dreading the tedious and verbose phone conversation if she said no, the noirette had went along with Atobe's plan to be picked up by a chauffeur straight after school. Charles was waiting in the parking lot nearby despite her insistence that she could get back to Kanagawa safely.
Young Master's order, it seemed.
No argument, he had asserted on the phone.
In retrospect, she would never make it in time for the appointment and thus putting herself in an undesired position of being wrongly judged by the receptionist. No questions were thankfully raised when Sakurai was asked to substitute. He was delighted...perhaps too much.
The manageress swiftly resolved not to linger too long.
After verifying with the people inside, the guard returned her ID card and ushered her towards the security post where she underwent a punctilious security check. Eventually deemed harmless, a slightly haggard Akemi was allowed through the wrought-iron gate. Envelope and bag in her arms, she waited as the guard unlocked the public access door.
The building peeked back through the iron spokes that pointed towards the sky.
Raising her eyes, the brown pools clouded over with remorse.
Atobe trusted her to disclose everything.
Yet, she found herself distorting the truth, glossing over several details and modifying a large portion of the careers appointment. She was averse towards revealing her ambition to him, fearing that such 'low aspiration' might be regarded with contempt then. But he would never...
XXX
Akemi wrung her fingers around the duvet, never taking her eyes off the picture of Atobe.
The line was quiet. It had been so for too long that the silence was starting to unnerve her.
Just as she was about to cave in, the Hyotei captain's voice reverberated through the speaker.
"That woman's right."
Suddenly, asking him to pop by for a visit so that she could land a punch in his face sounded appealing.
"It is ill-advised to narrow your options. Insularism will take you nowhere. You'll stumble through life as you age."
How long would it take to journey to the U-17 camp?
"But it isn't bad to stick up to your dreams if that fortitude is strong. If it takes years to materialise your goal, don't be deterred. Scrupling will only hinder and blind you. Plough on with your head high. Who knows? Maybe something beneficial may appear during the journey. Nobody can guarantee your ultimate ambition will turn out the way you've envisioned."
"..."
"Akemi, you're stubborn to a fault. Use it wisely."
XXX
A hand came to rest over the collarbone.
Underneath her uniform, the butterfly pendant caressed her skin with its cold but reassuring touch.
Akemi dropped her gaze to the envelope. She had put aside the time and energy reserved for her book to do this. She would make certain it wasn't sacrificed without purpose.
Taking in a deep breath, she steeled herself and strode forward. Each step, her heart pounded with excitement and trepidation that it was almost impossible to see or walk straight.
Still, she soldiered on.
As the determined noirette passed through the gate, her burlywood eyes flickered to the Royal Coat of Arms set onto the building itself.
Below it, the Union Jack fluttered proudly above the British Embassy.
Poll results:
Yukimura - 27.5 (added 2.5 from review)
Atobe - 23.5 (added 2.5 from review)
Kirihara - 2 (no change)
Niou - 2 (no change)
Sanada - 2 (no change)
Important note: I'm closing the poll after the release of chapter 28. This is your last chance to vote! Head to the polls or drop a review ;)
Thanks for reading and see you next chapter! Akemi 'reunites' with the Rikkai team after a month. Something new will baffle the guys?And things get a bit awkward for Akemi after the phone call from Yukimura?
Ps. As I'm going on a vacation, the next update will be slow.