Three: Stalking Tendencies
Sensei, I know that life hard on you, but you need to reply to my emails. I've already sent thirteen.
Answer any year now.
Just answer me, and I'll stop bothering you. I really like my sleep.
Riko's dad has a shotgun. He might use it on me.
The orange balls need to bounce between two forces. Our school needs the exercise, think of it as a team building exercise where the players sweat it out together in challenging, refreshing basketball games and build a budding bromantic relationship that may or may not blossom into man on man action.
I might die if you don't reply.
I think I've gotten fat.
Are you ignoring me?
This makes me sad. I'm gonna cry.
Am I actually imagining it?
ICE CREAM BUTT CHEEKS
I just watched some episodes of my favourite soap opera, and I'm really sad now. Sasa's mother was actually her aunt, who had naughty relations with many fabulous men. I know I should be studying whatever, but I needed to get this off my chest.
Why do I exist?
You know, I think I am having an existential crisis.
I want friends. I used to have friends but in high school, everyone's so different. Like, they're still idiots but different idiots, you know what I mean? You were young once, right, sensei? It's not you were born from a fat panda—no offence intended, but I'm sure your mother is a very nice person.
Please don't be offended. You have very shiny skin. Very youthful, like an elastic band.
The evil glare Takeuchi shot at Terumi the next morning, and a grumbled 'I get it, already. Mikazuki, you look like living hell' was his way of saying 'I can't be bothered to reply to your annoying, clingy emails, so I'll take pity on you and get that practice game organised'.
Despite her disastrous appearance, Terumi had triumphed.
1 NEW MESSAGE:
I got it done, washboard
I'm going to kill you.
Terumi folded her Japanese History quiz into a shameful origami crane (her Japanese ancestors would be turning in their family grave). She had every right to do whatever she wanted with her quiz.
Especially because it was a surprise quiz.
That demonic Takeuchi coughed into his hand to interrupt her.
"So, you failed," he droned as he leant back into his teacher's chair as they conducted the standard 'teacher giving student pep talk'. Neither party was more enthusiastic than the other. It was like a conversation between two stones to see which one could grow legs.
She grimaced. "Yeah. It really happened."
Geez, he didn't need to rub it in—she knew. The night before the 'surprise' quiz, she had been sending spam emails to him, to nag about some stupid basketball thing crazy-Riko wouldn't stop passive-aggressive threatening her to do for a whole night.
She hadn't slept properly for two nights when she did the quiz. So everything was justified.
"Well then." Takeuchi wrote something down in his teacher's log before shoving it back in his little shelf on his desk. He then pulled open the drawer on his left as lethargically as possible, taking some papers out. He sighed, as if her very presence was draining and depressing.
"These are the study notes that relate to this quiz. Redo it in your own time."
She couldn't fault him for that, if Terumi were him she wouldn't want to talk to her either. Like, if she were someone else she wouldn't want to teach her either. She had a rebellious 'I-don't-give-a-mother' streak that was starting to surface…like late puberty or something. It was understandable.
Whatever, man. I just want to go home.
"Your grades are usually alright and this wasn't an official test, so I'll let you go this time," he frowned. "Don't spam my inbox ever again. One is enough."
"Many apologies, sensei. Shitsure shimasu."
He waved his hand towards the door in a shooing motion. She dashed towards the exit of the teacher's office (hell).
…and fell flat on her face.
"I fink I boke my nosh."
"…You need to get up before you drip more blood on my carpet."
All her failures aside, she had a bad feeling about this. It was a serious unsettling of her stomach and her brain just knew it would escalate like a family catfight in an elevator.
"Isn't this a crime?" she questioned the instigator of this madness. He chortled to himself before removing the binoculars from his eyes. He didn't even need binoculars on this busy Shibuya street—but whatever tickled his peach, she wouldn't judge his preferences,
Comrade Moriyama shook his head with that silly smile on his face. "You are naive, soul sister. This is merely concern for an underclassman."
She stared at him.
He soldiered on. "It's like how a guardian ghost follows its shaman on his journey to become the shaman king."
"No one needs that kind of concern," she remarked snidely.
Guardian Ghost Moriyama pretended to swoon. "Your sharp words wound me so!"
They froze and quickly hid behind a brick wall when the subject of observation seemed to look right at them. That golden gaze was terrifying.
"Oh shit," Ghost Stalker Moriyama whispered to her.
Terumi muttered a botched Shinto prayer to save her from the Dragon Demon. Mustering all her courage, she peeked over the corner at the lovely back of Kise Ryouta—and some…girls?
"What?" Hunter Moriyama murmured. She must have said it aloud.
"Two blonde bombshells with-with…amazing legs."
"Ooooh." Pervy Moriyama leaned over her mussed head. "Beautiful ladies, but not my type."
She lightly pushed him off her back as they retreated behind the wall. "What! How could you not appreciate those amazing legs?" she hissed.
"I like a sexy nee-san, (Terumi: all men like tits and arse) but my type is more of an imouto-character, with a nice handful, and sweet round doe-like eyes, and long silky hair that would swish in the wind and a gentle, kind smile-not too tall, and she would be cute and can cook delicious food in a lace apron…and she would drink her water with a lemon slice in it."
Sweet baby Jeezles, could he be any more specific?
"Saints are fictional for a reason."
"You lie! She exists!" he insisted with surprising vigour. Girls must be his passion.
"How would you even know by just looking at a girl? Do you have some kind of mental search engine?" she asked sceptically, trying not to incense him further because people were shooting them strange looks.
The problem was him, not her!
"Yes," he said seriously. "Destiny."
Sometimes, Comrade Moriyama was a bit bonkers. She needed to introduce reality to him. "That's a load of—"
"Hi, Moriyama-senpai…and Mikazuki! What are you two doing here?" a cheery voice broke into their conversation.
Terumi's ikemen-senses were tingling.
She avoided Kise Ryouta's gaze like the plague, feeling strangely guilty. "Nothing much. The usual: lives to destroy, people to stalk—"
Goal-keeper Moriyama jumped in with a quick save. "We were on our way to chat up some cute girls."
Kise's smile was way too bright and sparkling. "And how was it going?"
Moriyama yelled a "Superbly!" just as she drawled "100% failure rate." It evoked an indignant gasp from the upperclassman as he leapt up, ego bruised almost beyond repair.
She met her soul brother's eyes casually. In that moment, a sudden revelation descended upon them like a heavenly verdict. They both knew.
This day hath descended upon them far too soon.
One of them had to be sacrificed for the other. And it wasn't going to be her.
Her thoughts raced for her ticket out of the interrogation.
Run away and become one with the crowd! I have to run away!
Her conscience, which had been asleep for the last year, suddenly awoke. He's your friend, save him!
In her moment of indecision where conscience grappled with normal thought in an epic battle, complete with an emotional orchestral soundtrack, she had lost.
Moriyama ran away.
She cursed his sudden absence as she was left alone with pretty-boy. It felt like his sparkling aura (typical of your extraordinary overachiever) drowned out her heart of darkness.
Ahem. She searched for an escape, any escape to get her away from this…classmate who she didn't really know that well, and it would be awkward to keep intruding on his presence, and she really needed to pee.
"Ah, the nearest bathroom is in the shopping centre just across the road. Mikazuki?" The ever-helpful Kise lowered his perfectly balanced (between delicate and manly) hand that had been gesturing to said shopping centre. He tilted his head innocently in response to her silence.
Terumi didn't mean to say anything aloud. She wanted to hit herself. You don't just walk up to the Kise Ryouta and tell him you needed to pee!
That was just so…so…
"Is there anything wrong?"
If it were anyone else, the sheer beauty of his very being would have blinded them and subsequently defy the laws of chemistry by melting human into goo through nothing but natural pheromones…but Terumi wasn't just anybody.
(She was partially blinded, but that's not relevant)
That Kise was grinning. He knew.
"Nope," she drawled. "Nothing."
He was teasing her. The nerve of that Adonis! That unexpectedly playful side!
Damn it, even his personality was attractive. Didn't he have any flaws she could magnify and exaggerate to make her feel better about herself?
His stare bore into her like a puppy starved for attention. Terumi gulped. "Well…since my Friday afternoon is ticking away, I should go and…erm, watch some soap opera reruns. Yeah. Um, see you never."
She tried to get away from him as fast as she could, but his hand shot out to gently nudge her back.
"I need to catch a train to Tokyo today, so I'll walk with you until we pass the station!" He beamed in the face of her misfortune.
That made two bastards.
I've actually had this sitting in my computer for a few months now. Whoops.
Anyway, the three chapters snapshot-prologue-setting the scene are done! Next chapter will be filled with plot! On with the humour, embarrassing things and dare I say…romance progression?
This story will go slowly, as most of my stories do. Things shouldn't happen so fast unless it's an action fic…and I do not have the skills to write action.
We will be seeing a long awaited reunion next chapter. And there'll be tears, violence and basketball games.
See you next time,