That
night, after they had split up outside their mall, he had trouble
sleeping. It wasn't that his mother disturbed him. She never did. It
wasn't that he was afraid of making contact with Takeida-san. He had
already experienced being rejected by two different girls during
middle school.
It
was, however, more complicated this time. One of those two girls had
been Wakayama Noriko, and she was all too likely to be on good terms
with both Takeida-san and Ageruman-san.
Yukio
shifted uncomfortably in his bed, again.
The
last thing he wanted was for Takeida-san to mistake him confessing to
her as going for second best. Sure, she had been at a different
school at that time, but with girls you never knew. And asking for
Ageruman-san as well. Not good, even if it was for the benefit of
another guy.
Yukio
never understood why Urufu-kun didn't contact the blond bombshell
himself. It wasn't as if he was overly shy. Yukio knew that. When
they had stolen out late evenings the previous winter he had listened
to Urufu-kun exchanging friendly insults and jokes with girls several
years their seniors. Well, several years Yukio's senior. With
Urufu-kun you couldn't count years that way.
And
he twisted in his bed again.
Sleep
came late that night and morning all too early.
He
kept his silence on their way to school. Thankfully Urufu-kun didn't
try to force a conversation, and it was clear that he understood what
Yukio had decided to do.
When
they arrived at school Yukio made for the right wing stairwell
immediately after he had changed into his indoor shoes.
Feel like
the idiot I am, he mused as he
climbed the stairs. Too short. Three floors was way too short. And he
was outside 3:1 where he met more than a few quizzical looks. Still,
no one questioned his right to be there. Now that's funny.
When
he wordlessly entered their classroom one of them helpfully pointed
at the foremost desk by the window. It was empty, but Takeida-san sat
by the one behind it.
He
fumbled in his pocket for the note he had prepared and headed for
her.
“Wrong
desk. It's the one in front,” he heard from behind him.
Takeida-san
looked up at him and nodded at the desk in front of her. After that
she paid him no more attention.
Now, that
is seriously funny. What are they… Oh, oh, oh. I'd better bring my
brains along next time.
He
felt himself blush slightly. Not because he was ashamed, but because
the entire situation had turned into a bad joke.
With
a few more steps he was at Takeida-san's desk. When he didn't move
she looked up at him again. “It's that one,” she said and pointed
ahead of her.
What do I
say now? Better not say anything.
He handed her the note.
“Man,
just leave it on her desk. I'm not her errand girl.” She rose and
started for what had to be Ageruman-san's desk.
“No!”
Yukio had to say something, or the situation would degenerate from
absurd to awful. “Read it!”
He
could see in her face how, with glacial speed, she started to grasp
that she, and not Ageruman-san, was the intended recipient of the
note. In the end she even pointed at herself with big eyes. Beautiful
eyes.
Yukio
nodded.
Followed
by a: “Guys, we have a new winner! He didn't come for
Ageruman-san,” he fled the scene.
Smooth, so
very smooth. Could just as well have confessed to her in front of
them all. Gods, that was awful!
Things
didn't improve when he came back to the left wing. It was all too
obvious from where he had come. Before he had time to enter the
relative safety of 6:1 he had time to hear all the relevant
questions.
“Dumped?”
“Rejected?”
“Shot
down?”
Multiple
times.
Each.
“You
look flustered,” Urufu-kun greeted him when he was finally inside
their classroom.
“You
say nothing. Nothing. Next two Fridays you treat me.”
Urufu-kun
nodded.
“And
I won't be cheap.”
Urufu-kun
nodded again.
“Geek's
actually spending time out?” That came from the back of the
classroom.
Urufu-kun
grinned and nodded a third time.
Yukio
sighed and took his chair. The classes
before lunch break went by in a daze, and then it was time for his
fifteen minutes of fame by the bike stands.
Love it
with the audience in the windows. Not!
“Go
for it man!” some helpful moron shouted from 8:1
Takeida-san
was already waiting for him. She didn't exactly look lovestruck.
“Whoa!
She's
from the right wing. It's
Ageruman-san's friend. Damn
you've got some guts!” came the next moronic commentary. 5:1 this
time.
As
a matter of fact Takeida-san looked less than impressed with the
entire set-up.
“Go
under
the roof and you won't be seen,” a third idiot helpfully added in a
gloriously failed
attempt to make Yukio look more inconspicuous.
Coming
this close to her Yukio could see that she was, most likely, royally
pissed.
“Takeida-san,
I have two requests. Please listen to them both!”
“He's
doing it!”
I'll kill
those guys!
“You.
Called. Me. Out. Make it short!”
Yeah,
experiencing the pain of embarrassment is an activity where time is
of essence. Crap! “My first
request concerns Ageruman Kuritina
and is on behalf of my friend Hamarugen Urufu. It's all in this
letter. Please convey it to her.”
“Another
stupid go between!”
He
couldn't really do much but agree with her. “My second request is
my own.”
For
the first time she looked at him with something that looked like
interest.
“You
may not know me, but I've seen you. I'm Matsumoto Yukio.” Yukio
recalled Urufu-kun's words. “I like you. I want you to know that,
because anything else would
be dishonest.” And
then for the lesser commitment.
“But I still would
want to start out as friends rather than have you respond to someone
you don't know. Would you
care to be my friend?”
Takeida-san
gave him a smile that could almost be called friendly. Then she
looked at the letter he had given her. “Forget it!” she said and
walked past him.
“The
letter?” Yukio tried in an attempt to at least salvage something.
“I'll
handle it. Stay away from me!”
Gods, that
was harsh. Really harsh. Were you trying to deliberately hurt me,
Takeida-san? Saying: Sorry but I'm not interested would have been
enough.
He
was close to tears but blinked them away.
That was
really, really harsh you know.
He
couldn't blink them away any longer. He
stood there for a while and pretended to study the bikes.
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