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The Pervert Speaks
by Cymone

Warning: Rukawa in uber SOB mode. Very strong antagonism between Sendoh and Rukawa. Read at your own risk.

Disclaimer: The SD boys do not belong to me but to the genius that is Inoue Takehiko.

Ever heard of the saying, "What goes around, comes around?" The basic concept of it is whatever started will have this compulsive action of barreling back. Like some sort of reaction is bound to occur and you just have to face it. You might love what comes back or think it's the second Colorado Massacre but you don't have any choice but to deal with the outcome.

It's different from karma, although they do share some resemblance. Karma is a boomerang that flings back whatever you do with regard to the premise of moral (or immoral) fiber. If you did something naughty, like putting Elmer's glue in your big brother's shaving cream, karma would punish you with something equally horrendous, like red dye in your aloe vera shampoo. If you did something good-natured, like bringing your boyfriend to the rock concert he's dying to attend (inspite the fact that your eardrums wouldn't be able to function for an entire week), karma would reward you with something equally nice, like said boyfriend giving you the best tongue-bath in your entire life.

The quote's message is different in another way. Moral fiber doesn't have anything to do with it. You could be doing something you think is good but what comes back to you full speed tells you otherwise. It varies, depending on what you do and how others interpret it.

Sort of like why I'm branded as a pervert.

I was so shocked the first time I heard about it. I'm Ryonan High's best basketball player, one of the best-looking guys at school, one of the top academic students and I have a spotless conduct record-- save my chronic lateness. My teachers look forward to my school results, all my friends' parents want to adopt me, my teammates all look up to me.

I'm all that and I don't even shave yet! So when I heard the P-word targeted at me, I was wigged out beyond belief.

Immediately, I asked Koshino, my best friend and most honest quibbler about it, explaining all the aforesaid speculations. If I was shocked previously, I felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on my head when he answered-- after nearly passing out laughing. These were his exact words.

"It's because of your smile."

"Huh?" was the only word that spilled out of my lips upon that assertion.

Koshino just laughed again. Then he added, "Your smile sort of gives the impression that you just did something… naughty."

Well that was flattering. I've only been smiling like this for seventeen years and I'm the last person in the entire school to know that it looks like I've had a little quickie before breakfast every day.

I didn't want to believe Kosh but after taking time to observe the people I socialize with, my hopes of proving my best friend wrong were flushed down the toilet. Here are some not-quite-subtle hints:

Keiko Monou, Ryonan's resident fashion consultant advised me never to wear a spandex bottom unless I'm trekking in a place where human contact couldn't be found within a ten-mile radius.

Coach Taoka disproved of the slap-your-teammates’-butt style of encouragement (with a special meaningful look at me).

That old cafeteria lady always hands me a banana whether I ask for it or not.

Even my mouth muscles conspired against me by refusing to make my smile come out in a different curve.

Hence forth, the sentence 'Sendoh is a pervert' became part of the student body's stack of common knowledge. Oh, and all that came out in my fourth month as a freshman.

All that naughty image from a facial statement, you ask? I would very much like to believe the opposite, but unfortunately, I am not a liar. Now in my sophomore year, the (ahem) suggestive lift of the corners of my mouth has been fueled by a new dig-- the tactile factor.

I always seem to be at the right place to save someone from tripping and taking a lollipop slide down the schools regularly waxed floors. Whatever my position is, my timing is uncanny. I can't help it if my arms happen to snake around the near-victim's waist when I do. What am I supposed to do, throw myself on the floor to cushion their fall? I doubt they'd fare better.

My friends tease me on this. I insist it's a coincidence. They push it aside and ask how I do it anyway. I never answered them.

So now, I not only have constant smiling as my sign, but also constant physical contact.

Physical contact. I really envy girls. Physical contact is so easy on them-- even encouraged. I mean, they can glomp, hug, link their arms around each other as much as they want and nobody would care. They'd even get commented for displaying such a strong bond of friendship. Whereas guys couldn't whisper something to each other in public without half the onlookers wondering if they're gay. And me? I brush off some dry leaves from a friend's uniform and already, I'm a pervert.

What goes around, comes around. See what I mean?

You might be wondering how I handle an image that really isn't me at all. To tell you the truth, I'm not proud of it. I mean, just because people wouldn't be surprised if I grab someone's ass in a crowded train doesn't mean I have to do it. My hentai image may be unchangeable, but I'm not one to perpetuate it.

That is, until I met gang leader cum Shohoku's power forward, the hot-tempered, fiery haired man of the unshakeable ego, Sakuragi Hanamichi.

Then I thought, maybe I should. Perpetuate my image, I mean.

No, I didn't grab his ass on a crowded train, tempting as it was. I wasn't in those stages… yet.

Here's my story:

Everything was happening so fast. One minute, I was running late for the practice game, thinking of excuses to tell my coach, the next minute a cute redhead was suddenly in my face threatening to whoop my ass in court.

I was stunned. I never received such a bold welcome in my seven plus years of playing basketball. Usually (and I'm not proud of this), a good portion of my opponents just look at me with scared expressions, freeze like a statue and wait for me to pass by. Barring that, they glare at me as if I just mugged their grandmother or something. Which is quite ironic, because I thought I was smiling in a friendly manner. Apparently, this nugget of common knowledge spread throughout Kanagawa.

Not him though. He walked over by himself towards our group, his honey brown gaze teeming with unparalleled drive and confidence, until he was about three inches from my face (no complaints there) and said what he wanted to say:

"I'm Sakuragi Hanamichi, the Tensai of Shohoku and I am going to beat you."

Whoa. Talk about killer confidence. I flashed him my infamous smile, actually pleased at his bold maneuver. "Hey. Nice to meet you."

To my surprise, he smiled back. "Ditto." Never had a two-syllable word had so much effect on me.

I found myself quite disappointed that he wasn't one of the starting members. Then I learned that basketball was new to him-- as in he just held the ball a couple of months ago. That didn't stop me from wanting to play against him though. In fact, I was even more intrigued than ever.

He wasn't pleased on riding the bench himself. That was a given, since he never seemed to stay still for more than five seconds. Hyperactivity came out of him in waves and kept the game in an interesting turn of events…

Man, I thought his strange manner of bobbing his coach's double chin was amusing enough as it is, but what he did to my coach almost made me blow my lunch out of my nose. I never knew Taoka-sensei was such a pansy screamer.

My fascination heightened drastically. Guys couldn't get more interesting than that. I made up my mind to force him into playing.

A few minutes in the second half, I saw him glaring at me and immediately, I looked him in the eye and did one of those come-and-get-me hand gestures. It riled him up instantly, much to my delight. Did he know how amazingly cute he is when he gets angry like that?

Well, my efforts finally bore fruit a minute later and I excitedly watched him step into the rectangular court for the first time.

His ball-handling ability was surprisingly good for a beginner. Yeah, he made quite a number of careless mistakes and he was easily distracted, but overall, there is only one word to describe his playing style.

Unpredictable.

Why? It wasn't only because of his incredibly high jumps. Or impressive rebounding skills that took everyone by surprise. It was because his was the shot that almost made Shohoku win against us. It was his first goal and Shohoku's last (in that game).

And it was also the shot that called for my full ability to beat it-- something I haven't done for a very long time.

We won with my shot. Hanamichi had a small fit at the loss but he was back to normal at the post-game chit-chat.

I took the opportunity to talk to him then. I held out my hand in my usual friendly manner, and told him something I never said to anyone before.

"You have to practice to death if you want to beat me." I figured this was the type of words that would draw the best reaction from him.

I was right. He took my hand and shook it firmly and resolutely. He didn't say anything but the look in his brown eyes gave me the affirmation I needed.

I watched him walk away, the smile still on my face. And despite the fact that my hand throbbed like crazy from that handshake, I was aware of my quickened pulse.

Yeah, that was the memorable first meeting. And when I came home that evening, thinking of nothing else except for the adorable way Hanamichi's face flushed in agitation, there was no denying. I was strongly captivated by the guy.

Such an attraction is hard to quell so it's only natural that I tell Kosh about it. I did the following day. He was still glowing over our victory and I hated to burst his bubble with my sexuality issues but I was going to blow chunks if I didn't spill soon. I pulled him aside before practice and blurted it out, cute flushed face and everything.

He was stunned with disbelief. He didn't say anything, but from the way he was so distracted at practice, the way he barely talked to anybody, I assumed he was disappointed in me.

I couldn't blame him though. I've been straight all my life after all, and there's just something karma-cally wrong about falling for a guy who poked our coach's ass, ray gun style. But still, having your best friend disapprove of your interests had to hurt a lot. And it did. I was hurt. I never thought I'd see the day when I couldn't count on Kosh.

Or so I thought.

Imagine my surprise when the following morning, Hikoichi handed me some Sakuragi Hanamichi bio data before class and told me Kosh had asked him to do it. I was so thrown with the gesture; I hugged Koshino right in front of my classmates, thanking him with whatever grateful nonsense my mouth could formulate. He made a big show of trying to kick me off, but I couldn't care less. I have his support to pursue Sakuragi Hanamichi and that alone was worth the throbbing pain below the belt when he did manage to pry himself away from me.

Armed with the precious information, I took action. Hikoichi had been a doll, getting me Hana's schedule, his hang-outs, his interests and status around school. He's a hyperactive package, my Hana-kun. Cutting classes, frequent fights, major rule-breaker. After reviewing the details, I formed the following conclusion, to my intense dismay.

Snagging Hanamichi could be likened to an uphill battle with a stitch on both sides.

Stitch #1: Haruko Akagi

That girl was a serious threat. Hanamichi was unfortunately straight at that time, and his eyes shone for this girl alone. I could handle the straight thing. If I could easily change my sexuality like a snap of my fingers (or a smile from Hanamichi more likely), what more for someone like Hana? Besides, although Haruko and Hanamichi were very close, the girl had feelings no more than platonic for him. Haruko's eyes shone for someone else. Which brings me to:

Stitch #2 (the bigger and meaner one in both the literal and figurative sense): Kaede Rukawa.

Yup, my biggest rival had stretched our antagonism out of the basketball court and into the court of real life. Who would've guessed that his stone cold visage was just a front to secretly lust after the innocent and unwitting Hanamichi? If Haruko was a big block, Rukawa was a fat brick wall the size of Jupiter.

Those two had an initial advantage. Without even trying, they're close to Hanamichi. Yes, Rukawa counted, even though Hanamichi hated him like hell, a basic advantage that would never escape my attention, thankfully.

How's this so? For starters, they're consistently lunging at each other's throats. Now although Hanamichi's intention was an actual scuffle, Rukawa milked it for all its worth, that sly bastard. Fighting meant touching and Rukawa knew it. And they call me perverted.

Second, we all know for a fact that Rukawa is not a man of words. He could go for an entire day with saying less than ten words if even that much. Hanamichi drew whole sentences from him-- even if they're just plain criticisms.

Third and the most dangerous of all, was his possessive nature. It was his possessiveness that kept him attached to the redhead. Hell, Hanamichi even had this pet name for him-- the infamous 'Kitsune'. If he couldn't have Hanamichi, no one else would. And that included me.

I wasn't going to stand for that. Rukawa could be vigilant as much as he wanted, but I was as stubborn as a mule and I would never give up. Not without a fight. And fight I did.

My tactics? I "coincidentally" bumped into him in various public places in all times possible. In the outdoor basketball court, in the supermarket, in the train station, even in that Pachinko arcade.

I didn't know the first thing about foosball or pinball or whatever other 'balls' they play there, but I went anyway. Turned out he and his friends were using fake ID's to get in. Score another one for the renegade redhead...

He was standing all by himself in one corner, drinking a can of Coke. The lights were dim, giving his bright red hair the rough realism of flames. His back was leaning against the wall, as well as one sole of his foot. It was a simple, normal position and I didn't know what snuck into my brain to think that I had never seen such a sexy pose in my entire life.

I didn't know how long I've been staring, but someone up there must've been considerate enough to send a random elbow to poke my back, jolting me back to composure before Hanamichi saw me with my tongue practically hitting the floor.

I was in the middle of formulating a decent greeting when he spotted me. He waved his hand, threw his empty can in a nearby trash can and jogged over towards me, his face lit up by a relieved smile.

"Hey Smiley! Man, I'm so glad you're here!"

I was surprised. Not a bad reception. "Hey," I replied. I found myself grinning uncontrollably as he reached me, touching my shoulder in the process. Chills. "Fancy meeting you h--"

"--I really need your help," he cut off. My neck was suddenly snagged by the crook of his arm as he pulled me close, to whisper in my ear. More off-the-wall chills. "Listen, there's this new management employee over there staring suspiciously at me. See that chubby guy with a pug face?"

I followed his gaze. It was mighty hard to see with the way he was holding me (although I was willing to stay like this as long as he wanted), but I managed to catch a glimpse of the one he was referring to. The guy was walking towards us, puffing on a gross cigar, his beady eyes narrowed. "Yeah I see him."

"Pretend I'm your buddy, okay? I forgot my ID at home and I just managed to slip past that stupid guard because of my height," he hissed. "Just say we're a couple of visiting college guys."

I had barely mumbled my "okay" when he removed his arm and adopted a nonchalant expression.

"Hello boys," Dog-face said, stopping a few feet away from us, his eyes still in intent scrutiny.

"Yo," Hanamichi replied, leaning back against the wall. He looked around a few times, as if the place was totally new to him. "Nice place you got here."

"Well, we aim to please," the old guy responded, his suspicion still present.

"We should tell the guys about this place," I supported, after some quick thinking. I glanced sideways at Hanamichi. "I can't believe we overlooked such a cool possible college hangout."

The man raised his eyebrows almost imperceptibly. "College hang-out?" he repeated.

"That's right. We dudes need to have a get-away from all those nutty professors and dorm wenches," Hanamichi charged on, surprising me with his boldness. I couldn't suppress a smile. It sounded so natural to him; I almost forgot he was just faking it. "With the way they're always getting on our back for goofing off, you'd think they're purposely trying to make students drop-out."

"Yeah, Like the other day, Professor Yako made me run errands from building to building just because I placed a quotation mark before a comma," I pretend-agreed, surprised at how easily the lies were spewing out. "I swear, they must've gone through enforced extensive training on the art of making students feel unworthy of whatever knowledge they're required to share."

"I see." The manager’s eyes had softened and were now laced with pity. I could hardly believe it. We were out the woods. He's buying it. He took another nauseating drag of his cigar before smiling at us. "Well then, I wouldn't want to deprive you of your much needed fun. Carry on." With that, he walked away, his cigar smoke trailing behind him.

When he was out of earshot, Hanamichi blew out a relieved breath. "That was close," he muttered, turning around to face me just I turned my own head. We met each other's eyes and laughed.

"We make a pretty good team-up," I remarked, all the while fighting down the urge to just kiss him on the spot, with his face less than a foot and all. Thankfully, I was still aware of the multitude of spectators around us and managed to content myself with the thought of him smiling like that at me.

"Quotation mark before a comma, huh?" He grinned. "That's a good one!"

Pleased at the compliment, I blew at my fingers, with mock suaveness. "What can I say, I'm a genius."

"Hey that's my line," he retorted indignantly. But his smile remained.

I pretended to give this some thought before nodding decidedly. "Okay. We're both geniuses."

"Genius liars," he added, his bronze eyes twinkling merrily. We laughed again.

Wow. In two minutes I hewed down a slew of conduct regulations I've never desecrated in my whole life and enjoyed it. It struck me then how different we were.

I was an ace student as well as basketball player, and everybody liked me but in doing so, I had to limit myself to a certain extent to get that much respect. I never really decided if I preferred that to being totally liberated but I guess family as well as peer pressure got the best of me.

Hanamichi, on the other hand wasn't chained by anything. He was his own man, refusing to be tied down by rules. A real individual with unlimited enthusiasm and non-existent boundaries.

Here was someone I’ve always envied but never became.

"Hey. Now that we're here, wanna play a few rounds of air hockey?" he asked, tilting his head to one side. "I know they specialize in pinball here, but I'm sick of that already."

I smiled. Air hockey, I could do. "Sure."

He smirked and pushed himself off the wall. "Great. Get ready to suffer a humiliating defeat."

I merely shrugged and followed him towards one of the game's tables. I stayed at one end and waited for him to get to the other end. I saw him jam some coins inside and the puck appeared in my side. The game began.

I never had so much fun hitting a flat circular piece of plastic in my life. Time just flew by as we swished, defended our posts and dove for the puck like a couple of maniacs, laughing and mocking each other whenever we scored. We had pretty close games, with me losing only by a couple of goals or so. Yes, I lost. Hanamichi really knew his stuff.

We ended after a couple of hours of non-stop playing. I lost all games, but that was okay. I had fun anyway and the childlike happiness in Hanamichi's face was more than enough compensation to my bruised manly pride.

"Nyahahaha! Now you know the real abilities of the Tensai!" he boasted, as we walked out of the arcade.

I smiled for the nth time that afternoon. His cheerfulness was simply contagious. "It's amazing how you always know where to block the puck," I commented. "Do you have a technique for that or something?"

"Technique? Hell no," he answered, shrugging. "It's not a big deal, really. It's just like blocking an oncoming punch. After so many gang fights, it just comes naturally."

Gang fights. Apparently there's no escaping his less than pleasant past.

After a few minutes of walking in silence, I suddenly had an idea. "Hey, you wanna grab a snack? All that hockey field wiping made me hungry." Then after checking the contents of my wallet and a brief mental debate on Hanamichi's appetite size, I added. "My treat."

His eyes lit up. "Free food? Sure thing!" Then his eyebrows rose smugly. "Aha, you must be acknowledging my Tensai prowess then! I do deserve a prize after slaughtering you thirteen times in a row!"

We went to this new place called Burger Haven. I was glowering over my good fortune. I was having a date with Hanamichi!

Well, technically, it wasn't a date, but come on! Paying for food is a major date 'qualification' so I gave myself a break. Even when I realized that his appetite would cost me a huge dent in my allowance after letting him order for the both of us. I swear I’ve never seen anybody eat that much since Jurassic Park.

The afternoon sailed by so fast. We joked, we laughed, and we talked about everything that came to mind. There wasn't a single second of awkwardness as he jumped from topic to topic with uncanny bluntness and ease. More than once, I had to physically restrain myself from reaching out and running my fingers through those flaming locks. He was just too cute for his own good.

After that fateful date, we started meeting up with each other more, gradually. At first it was just more age-scam arcade fun, but eventually, only with my vague realization, in came basketball one-on-one, action flicks, fishing (courtesy of me) and a lot of snacks on our after school and weekend agendas. Furthermore, his guntai had accepted me as their friend as well.

I learned that no matter how egotistic or irritating he could get, people couldn’t help becoming fond of him, due to his innocently spunky never-say-die attitude. So it’s no surprise that we became fast friends--very good friends in fact.

So after three months of the same routine, how come nothing has happened yet? I built my world around the hope that one day we'd elevate our friendship to a higher, more intimate level. I tried showing what I felt through tactile means-- there's not a single day that I wouldn't find an excuse to touch him. Grabbing more than fifteen rebounds in a game would mean a friendly punch on the shoulder. Less than five Gori punches at practice would get him a noogie. A quick hug would be warranted to any outstanding scholastic performance like an A in an exam… in which case it wouldn't really count so… better make that a B- and above.

Still after all that, nothing happened. Either I really suck at dropping hints or he's just so incredibly clueless. I figured out it was the latter, as my hints weren't exactly the subtle type, as Mito put it kindly. It seemed like everyone else knew of my rather strong fancy for the redhead except for Hanamichi himself. The irony of it all wasn't lost on me.

You'd think I'd lose patience and write him off as a hopeless case but his blindness to my advances only fueled my desire. Hanamichi was not a person to give up on. In fact, I found him even sexier when he was being so frustrating.

Besides, I never back off a challenge.

Days passed. My perversion was eating me up. From fascination to full-fledged interest to fierce attraction to manic obsession, I couldn't stop thinking about him. I couldn't resist taking advantage of the fact that he hardly noticed whenever I touched him-- discreetly or not. I had fantasies involving him that I would not relate here. The more I see him, the more I wanted him.

And so did Stitch # 2.

My accomplishment wasn't lost to my rival. I heard the guntai talk about how Hanamichi blabs about the movies we see together to have anyone who would listen know of our friendship. Obviously, Rukawa was one of them.

The strange part was: he never seemed to react to any of it. In fact, for one stupid moment, I even considered the possibility that maybe, he had given up. He didn't have a relationship with Hanamichi-- not even a remotely platonic one.

But the moment I saw the blazing determination in his eyes and the possessive way in which he commanded Hanamichi's attention with a single word, I knew that such wishful thinking couldn't be more exemplified.

Rukawa was truly a competent adversary. His indifferent mask concealed whatever plans, whatever emotions he felt. There was no telling what he'd do and how far he would go to get what he wanted.

It worried me. I would so much prefer an enemy that would attempt to spurn whatever advance I make to one whose intentions were impossible to read. There was danger in the unknown and Rukawa thrived on that advantage.

I never discovered how far his measures would take him until one night.

It was around ten-thirty in the evening. Hanamichi and I were playing (we keep strange hours) another game of one-on-one. I was testing his steadily growing progress. From the games I've watched I had long deduced that he was the real mood plug of the team. Although mistakes were committed half the time due to his terrible lack of attention, he always came through on the crucial moments where his team needed him most--crunch times in basketball terms. He worked well under pressure, making him an invaluable asset to Shohoku, despite the hundred experience points between him and the other players.

He was sailing in the air ready to dunk. I jumped up to block him, focusing on the bright orange ball in his hands.

"You're going down, Akira!" he yelled, as his arm swiftly came down to slam the ball in the hoop. I reached out but the ball suddenly disappeared from his right hand and shifted to his left. I realized this a split second too late and the ball came down hard, resounding like a demolition set-up in the dead of the night.

The super fast move threw me, making me lose my balance. I felt myself land on the hard cement, my back crashing hard. I heard the sound of his feet as he dropped on the ground, a muffled yelp, and then a whoosh of air. Before I knew it, the wind was knocked out of me again as he landed face down on me, the ball stuck somewhere between our tangled legs.

I gasped, but it's not because of the impact that sent a violent wave of pain cum numbness shooting up my spine. It was very possible that I've dislodged a few internal organs and I might never walk again, but now that Hanamichi's profile was crushed against my own in a very questionable manner, having him get off me was the last thing on my mind.

"Sorry about that," he said, his voice sounding muffled from between my shoulder blades. He started to get up but I held him down, my hands grasping his shoulders tightly.

"Don't," I commanded, my voice sounding slightly weak from the loss of air. My right hand traveled along his back, relishing the feel of his taut muscles from under the thin cotton of his shirt. I felt him stiffen at my touch but remained still. I dipped my head down, inhaling the intoxicating scent of his red locks, a mixture of sweet vanilla and clean male sweat.

He shifted, pushing himself up. "Akira, you're acting weird. Are you okay?" He stared at me, his head tilted inquisitively.

"Yeah," I answered, my mouth lifting to a lazy smile. My hand was now cupping the nape of his neck, slowly applying pressure to it. "I'm just about perfect."

His jaw dropped and a delightful blush stained his cheeks. He stared at me for a moment, his beautiful brown eyes whirling with confusion. Then he shook his head. "You're really freaking me out, A--"

"Shh." I pulled his head down so that our noses almost touched. This was it. I was finally graced with this opportunity. Slowly, I guided him closer, my eyes closing hesitantly, my entire body rigid with the prospect of finally sating my hunger.

An echo of a bouncing ball came out of nowhere and shattered the trance. My eyes flew open and before I could even react, Hanamichi quickly got off me, his entire face red.

Gritting my teeth, I turned my head, swearing to kill whoever it was that dared to interrupt this moment. My eyes narrowed.

Kaede Rukawa was walking towards us, even as I cursed him to the damnedest pits of hell. I stood up, fuming inwardly.

"Kitsune…" Hanamichi acknowledged, his eyes darting back and forth apprehensively between Rukawa and I as if one of us was bound to explode soon. Unbelievably, he did not seem to remember the fact that I almost kissed him ten seconds ago. Damn.

Rukawa strode over towards me, steel blue eyes blazing with venom. "You and me, one-on-one," he ordered, pointing an accusing finger in my direction.

Hanamichi immediately reacted to this. "Hey, I got him first! Get your own playmate!" he argued, stepping in front of me and scowling at Rukawa. Under normal circumstances I would've grinned smugly, but that seemed out of place in our current situation.

Rukawa's eyes did not waver one bit. He grabbed Hanamichi's wrist and moved him away, ignoring his protests. "This isn't just play, Hanamichi," he stated, his eyes resting briefly at his teammate before focusing back at me. "This is a battle."

Hanamichi's eyebrows lifted, unaware that Rukawa just called him by his first name. "Huh?"

I smiled soothingly at him. "I'll get back to you later Hana-kun," I reassured him. I turned to Rukawa and jutted out my chin in challengingly, leveling his glare coolly. "I'll just humor Rukawa for a little while."

"But-- oh okay, I'll watch."

I watched Hanamichi stalk out of the court lines and plop down on a patch of grass. Then, upon hearing the dribbling ball, I turned to Rukawa again. "What are you trying now?"

"I told you Sendoh. You won't have Hanamichi. I'll do anything to see to that."

I smirked. "Through a one-on-one game? I doubt Hanamichi's gonna make up his mind on that basis."

His face betrayed nothing. "You'll just see."

The game commenced. The one who gets seven shots first wins.

I was already tired before we even started so Rukawa had the upper hand in the endurance department. But there was no way I'm admitting that out loud. Let Rukawa give me his best shot. I'll handle him-- even if it killed me.

Which wasn't far off home, since my bad fall and collision with Hanamichi pretty much squeezed out most of my energy.

But no matter how beat I was, I would not give in. I swore on every stick-stiff strand of my hair.

We were neck-to-neck in scoring. Despite the scream of my muscles, my resolve to win didn’t budge an inch. I defended against him to the fullest of my ability. I eluded, blocked, and faked my way to shoot that ball. There was a moment when I thought I was gonna faint from sheer exhaustion but after sneaking a glance at Hanamichi, who surprisingly remained quiet, watching us with his knees hugged to his chest, my energy renewed, albeit slightly.

Rukawa, on the other hand, was calm throughout the entire game. There was something wrong with the way he played-- he seemed to be taking his time before shooting. He didn't play as aggressively as he normally did, but was dilly-dallying around the court, instead of charging unstoppably.

It was almost as if it was his intention to lose.

I shook that thought away. That was totally absurd, because 'lose' wasn't in Kaede Rukawa's vocabulary. In fact, he should be paying royalties to use that word.

The game ended with me performing one of my trademark swish-and-dunk moves. A strong sense of pride surged inside me as the ball slammed down the hoop with a gratifying crash.

I landed squarely with both feet, wavering a bit before gaining balance. My breathing was ragged, blood pounded in my ears, and I was getting dizzy from exhaustion but it didn't matter. I won. And Hanamichi was there to see it.

Hanamichi. I turned and saw him shooting an odd look at Rukawa before smiling at me.

"I lost," Rukawa stated flatly, stopping Hanamichi in his tracks. I whirled around sharply and saw him picking up his basketball calmly, any acknowledgement of defeat eradicated from his movements.

My eyes narrowed again suspiciously. Something was seriously wrong here. Hanamichi shared my puzzlement as well and he was gaping at Rukawa with disbelief.

Rukawa looked up, a malicious gleam in his eyes. "Guess you want your prize now."

I stepped forward, ready to demand what the hell he was talking about, when my foot got snagged against the straps of his gym bag. I felt a sharp tug, and then I toppled forward, falling right against the fox-eyed boy.

"Believe me Sendoh, I'm not doing this because I like you," he whispered, just as I landed heavily on top of him, our bodies crashing down on the hard cement.

"Aki--" I heard Hanamichi start but was instantly cut off by his own sharp intake of breath.

A split-second later, I realized to my utmost horror, that my mouth was being assaulted by my rival's. Oh my God. Rukawa was kissing me. But from the way we were positioned, I knew it looked like I was the one doing the kissing.

Shock paralyzed me. Although my brain had long registered this irrationality, my limbs couldn't move. My ankles were trapped by the cursed gym bag, and Rukawa's nimble feet. My arms were forced down from below, Rukawa's sharp fingernails digging through my skin.

The distant sound of brisk footsteps jarred me from paralysis and I tore away, my heart hammering from the residue of Rukawa's psychotic actions. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, you sicko!?!" I spat, as I struggled to free myself. Then remembering that Hanamichi was still here, probably thinking that I'm the biggest pig that ever lived, I whipped around only to find him a good fifteen meters away, speed walking out of the semi-secluded court.

"No! Hana-- mmph!" A hand clamped down on my mouth forbidding my cries to be heard. My eyes widened with panic as Hanamichi went farther away, his red hair flying wildly as he gained speed. I trashed wildly in Rukawa's surprisingly strong grasp. ‘Hanamichi--stop!’ My mind screamed. Frustrated tears threatened to spill out of my eyes as he disappeared from view. No… come back…

When he was no longer in sight, the force that held me down loosened and I felt myself slumping to the ground, my hands clutching my head, my entire being immersing slowly into a deepening pool of deadening loss. He's gone… I was so close…

"What do I think I'm doing?" Rukawa's cold, inflection-less voice snapped me from the numbing sensation. A powerful emotion, something I've never felt before in my entire life, seeped into me, fueling my exhausted muscles almost instantly.

Rage.

I slowly stood up and faced the sinister fox, my blood boiling with the unfamiliar sensations. He was wiping his mouth with one hand and looking at me smugly.

"Well I think it's perfectly obvious, Sendoh," he continued, taking no heed of my glares of murder. I was about to launch a fist in his direction when he continued. "What do you think would happen if you see your close friend making out with your biggest rival right in front of your face?" He snorted. "Sort of blows your chances, huh?"

My heart thumped painfully, the rage dulling and giving way to the gravity of Rukawa's words, just like that. The fury I was containing couldn't outweigh the fact that Hanamichi was gone. As deranged his previous actions were Rukawa knew what he was aiming at and as much as I hated to admit it, he succeeded. But I'd rather chew off my own foot than give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

He smirked after a few seconds of my unspoken thoughts. "Look at the bright side," he remarked. "Your hentai image will be skyrocketing with this."

I gritted my teeth. "You--you…" There wasn't a word obscene enough in the English language to aptly describe what I thought of the guy sneering at me. Evil-- too mild. Satan in fox hide-- still far too inadequate.

"Aren't you going to try and sack me now?" he went on, obviously enjoying the prospect of pouring salt on my miserably open wounds. He was willing to exceed his twenty-word limit to see to that.

When I didn't answer, he slung his gym bag over one shoulder, eyeing my trembling fists with blatant ridicule. "Oh, I forgot you don't have the strength to do that."

I froze, the truth in his observation hitting me with bone-jarring impact. So that's why he stalled… that's why he was playing so passively. To drain every ounce of my strength on account of my own willingness. I bit back the bile in my mouth as the brilliance of Rukawa's plan dawned on me.

"But just to make sure you don't go bothering Hanamichi this time of night…" A fist made crushing contact with my jaw, sending me toppling backwards. Before I could even regain my balance, another powerful force socked me at the stomach. I gasped, recoiling before the parting blow sent me crashing back first against metal stand of the basketball ring, knocking the wind out of me for the third time this night. My muscles finally caved in and I helplessly slid down to a sitting position, my back leaning against the pole. A faint groan escaped my lips and my vision blurred. I saw Rukawa glare at me one last time before turning his back on me and walking away.

My head lolled back, knocking at the metal pole. At that moment, I hated myself more than I hated Rukawa. I hated myself for being so weak. I hated myself for being stupid enough to fall into my only enemy's trap. I hated myself for being careless enough to underestimate Rukawa's cunning. But most of all, I hated myself for being the main part of the fallacy that Hanamichi witnessed.

"Hanamichi…" My eyes closed, and instantly my mind's eye pictured my Hana-kun smiling at me when I dunked the winning shot. Then his smile twisted to a hurt expression. Then he turned around and walked away, even as I called out to him with all the mental energy I had.

"Hanamichi… come back… please…"

There was a sudden rumbling in the sky. It was beginning to rain. Perfect.

Fat drops of water splattered on my face as if to match the mood I was in. I didn't have the strength to stand up and seek shelter, so I just sat there, bottling my growing body pains and experiencing for the first time in so many years, the feeling of true defeat.

I marked that night as one of the lowest points in my entire life.

When I opened my eyes the following day, I was no longer lying on the dirty asphalt of the outdoor court but on a soft mattress in a bedroom that was not my own. There were various NBA posters on the walls, a wicker basket overflowing with clothes on one corner, and comic books plus a couple of school textbooks scattered on the floor. It was a familiar room, one I've visited a couple of times in the past, but I couldn't quite place whose…

A soft snore interrupted my musing and I realized that I wasn't alone. I turned around. My heart jumped to my throat.

It was Hanamichi. His soft red hair was ruffled carelessly, splayed over the white pillow. His loose night shirt was rumpled and his hand was loosely clutching the sheets in a child-like manner.

I was stunned. I tried pinching myself to see if I was dreaming, but when the image before me didn't change, renewed hope surged through me. Suddenly, last night's events flew out the window. Rukawa never counted on this.

I propped myself up to get a closer look. I had my chance. He was still sleeping peacefully, and I could kiss or touch him right then and there.

But I didn't. That's what I always wanted right? But how come I was simply gazing and admiring his child-like innocence as if I’ve never seen such picturesque beauty before? He was vulnerable to touch but still, I do nothing.

Then it hit me.

All this time, I was so wrapped up on the thought of physical intimacy I never realized the thing that had been so painfully obvious from the very start. It wasn't just fascination. Nor fierce attraction. Nor strong desire. Nor obsession.

But love.

This warm feeling inside me-- I never realized that I have loved him all along. I have always dreamt of finally reaching the merits of a non-platonic relationship, I almost forgot why I obstinately held on to that hope in the first place.

Rukawa had struck where it hurt most when he made me think he succeeded in setting Hanamichi against me. If this wasn't love, then the thought of losing him shouldn't hurt so much.

But it did. I may not have realized it when it happened, but I remember vividly the pain I felt yesterday, the profound depths of loss that ate me up from inside, rendering my physical pain unheeded.

The pain was real.

This feeling was real.

A genuine smile spread on my face and I reached over and brushed an unruly flame red lock away from his eyes. My knuckles grazed against his cheek and traced his sharp jaw line. He stirred.

His eyes fluttered open lazily and he squinted at me through mussed up bangs. Then his eyes widened and he hastily started to sit up but stopped as soon as he realized my hand never left his face.

"Hey," I started, admiring the way his cheeks reddened as I caressed them fondly. "Are you okay?"

He looked confused for a moment before his eyes narrowed and he backed off, forcing my hand to leave its post. "I should be asking you the same question," he replied bitterly.

My eyes widened quizzically-- not only because of the less than pleasant tone but also because of the raw emotion I haven't notice in his eyes before. "Your eyes are red." I frowned. "Have you been crying?"

He froze for a split second before flinching. "None of your business, Akira!" he spat, hurriedly scrambling out of bed and glaring at me. "You should be thanking me for hauling your sorry ass here after Kitsune beat you up for forcing yourself on him. Either that or you've been playing tonsil hockey for too long, you passed out from lack of air."

"I didn't force myself on him!" I protested, cursing Rukawa's existence silently. His intentions came back to me full force and after all that had happened, I couldn't believe it still stood a chance of coming through. "He's the one who pulled me towards him."

"Save it, I know what I saw."

I sat up straight. "You don't. The only person I wanted to kiss was you."

A flicker of hope flashed through his honey brown eyes but it disappeared as quickly as it came. "You expect me to believe that?" he scoffed, hugging himself protectively. "You could stop making excuses to save face now, Akira. I was there."

"I'm not making this up, I swear! I know how it looked but if you'd just let me explain--"

"--Do you always grab a smooch with every single guy you play one-on-one against or are Rukawa and I just special?" His voice was angry but his pained statement was not as expertly hidden. "I can't believe you, Akira. I can't believe I was stupid enough to believe that you were different. I can't believe you'd value your stupid playboy image over what I… what I…" His voice trailed off and he looked down, his jaw clenched.

He was hurting and it tore me apart to see him like that. I moved to the edge of the bed. Then I said the only thing that could possibly abate his disappointment in me. "I'm sorry."

He looked up, his expression softened slightly. "Sorry's not gonna cut it, you know. I deserve better than that."

He had no idea how close to home he hit. "I know. I was a major jerk and you don't deserve this crap."

"You're damn right I don't."

"But I meant it when I said the only person I meant to kiss was you."

Instead of the hope I was expecting, the indigence returned. He looked away. "Bullshit. Rukawa rejected you. What am I, the consolation prize?"

Exasperated, I stood up, my expression hardened. "Hanamichi, I'm not going to stand here let you accuse me for something that never happened at all. Why can't you just--"

"--Then by all means, get out," he interrupted, staring back at me defiantly. Then he paused and shook his head. "You know what? Fine, stay. I'm outta here." He started to move towards the door but I blocked his path. He raised his fist threateningly. "Get out of the way."

"No." I refused to budge. "Rukawa may have ruined my chances in the past, but I'm not gonna let him win this time."

His eyebrows rose. "What are you talking about?"

I took a deep breath, weighing out my words carefully. "I never wanted anyone else but you."

I paused. How could I be so sure that he'd believe me this time? Was it really wise to confess everything? I eyed him carefully, taking note of his expression, half-shadowed by doubt.

‘Why not?’ A voice inside me questioned. You have nothing left to lose. This is the only chance you have. Waste it and you'd just be handing Hanamichi over to---

No way.

I looked up, freshly determined. It's amazing what a little dose of unpleasant reminders could do. "All the time I've known you, I focused on getting our friendship to an infinitely closer level."

The flicker of hope returned to his eyes and this time, it stayed. I took the opportunity and reached out to catch his dropping fist and held it in my grasp. His fingers stayed clenched for a second longer but opened when I didn't let go. I met his gaze and charged on. "If Rukawa didn't interfere yesterday I would've achieved that-- hopefully with your consent."

He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. His gaze averted to his palm, which I was tracing gently with my thumb. "Why are you doing that?" he asked quietly, avoiding any responses to the truth I’ve just divulged.

"Doing what?"

"Holding my hand."

I smiled. "I don't want to lose you. If I have to clamp on to your wrist to see to that, then I will." I was only half-joking.

He bit his lip and looked down. "How can I be guarantee that you mean that?" he whispered.

If yesterday's nightmare didn't happen, I would've had the answer to that in a heartbeat. But since it did, I took a minute to think of a convincing response. "Okay, answer this. Why did you come back for me?"

He frowned. "I dunno… I was just one block away from home when it started raining. I thought I heard you calling out, so I turned around, figuring that Kitsune probably beat the crap out of you for forcing yourself on him… and I saw you unconscious on the court and, you know…. I couldn't just leave you there-- you might catch pneumonia or something so… here you are."

I stared at him, stunned. Did I hear that right? "You heard me… calling you?" I repeated slowly.

He nodded, and then blushed. "Yeah, It sounds so stupid but--"

"That's the final affirmation I need."

He shot me a questioning look. "Affirmation?" he echoed.

"Yeah, because I really called out to you," I answered, euphoria rushing back to me. "Well, more like whisper actually. Your name was the last word I said before I fell asleep. And you heard it, even if you're a good five blocks away." I tilted my head and caught his gaze, a playful smile on my lips. "And do you know why that happened?"

He stared back. "No. Why?"

"It happened because of this unbridled, powerful force called love."

"Love?"

"Yeah." I brought his fingers to my lips and kissed them, noticing him stiffen as I slowly looked back at him, holding his gaze firmly.

"I love you, Hanamichi Sakuragi. And if by any iota of a chance that what I say is false, then may lightning come and strike the hearts of every man who loved… including mine."

There. I bared everything I felt. I had gone past the point of no return. If magic does exist, it should be proven here.

His eyes widened, but his gaze never wavered. He didn't speak. The only sound I could hear was the beating of my heart. The only sight I could see was him. The only thing I was aware of was this intense loving warmth flowering inside me, waiting to be channeled to the boy whose hand was entwined with mine.

After what seemed like an eternity, a single tear rolled down his cheek and dropped on our hands, unchecked. And with that pearl-like drop, magic revealed itself.

I reached out and wrapped my arms around him, feeling his own hug me tightly as more tears spilled on my shoulder. "Hush now, why are you crying?" I asked gently, running a soothing hand through his hair.

He sniffed and hugged me tighter. "I'm crying because I can't remember the last time someone told me that they love me. I'm crying because I just realized that the companion I've always wished for was just beside me all along. I'm crying because I can't remember the last time somebody looked at me and Rukawa… and chose me."

"That's where you're wrong." I pulled back and faced him, tipping his chin with two fingers. He looked up at me, wonder shining in those soulful brown orbs. I smiled and lowered my face until our foreheads touched. Then with all heartfelt sincerity, I whispered:

"Because I never looked at anyone else. There's only you."

Then I pulled him against me once more. As soon as our lips touched, bliss, relief and triumph erupted inside me. There was no need to coax him as he readily accepted the tongue that swept through his mouth's warm caverns, soaking up all the sweetness he provided. He gripped my arms with shaking fingers and pressed back with equal passion, almost drowning me with its power.

Even as we broke the kiss, I never loosened my embrace. I have waited for this for so long and I just wanted to relish it as long as I could. It could've been hours, it could have been minutes, it could even be a matter of seconds but time was a distant worry as I just held him, savoring his warmth and innocence, and contenting myself with the knowledge of much more to come.

Life was indeed full of surprises. Last night had been one of the most hellish hours of my entire life. Who would've expected the following morning would be nothing short of heaven?

And that's how we came to be. Kinda sappy, I know, but looking back, I couldn't think of a better way for us to have started.

What goes around, comes around. If it wasn't for my stubborn insistence in trying to perpetuate that stupid image, I would've never had the person who changed my life forever. I would never have experienced the wonderful feeling of loving and being loved. My goals may have been misdirected but I realized my discourse just in time and went for what I really wanted in the end.

And about karma? ::smirk:: Let's just say Rukawa's got me beat in that department.

Nothing much has changed after that. Our activities remain pretty much the same except for the addition of frequent night marathons of… you know. And the action movie dates… well, we've found out they have more uses than just watching action… if you know what I mean. ::wink::

Which reminds me…

I check my watch for the seventh time and sigh, wondering what's taking him so long. If there's one thing we have in common, it was our inveterate tendency to be fashionably late. I arrived ten minutes after our scheduled meeting time, armed with a stomach-virus disease excuse, only to find out that I was the punctual one once more. I've already reminisced on the entirety of relationship and still he hasn't arrived yet.

I lean back against the brick wall of Tea Box Café, my azure eyes scouring the streets. Involuntarily, my hand reaches into my pocket and pulls out a familiar photograph.

Every time I look at it, it triggers a reflexive upturn of my lips. It was a picture I took some time back, after we made love for the very first time. He was tangled in the sheets, the soft sunbeams touching his features at just the right spots. I have always adored his sleeping form and I just couldn't resist taking out my Polaroid. I wanted to keep that memory forever, and look at it whenever I want to see him but can't, for whatever absurd reasons.

I hear a vague sound of rushing feet before their owner's voice speaks up. "What are you smiling about?"

Finally. I release a sigh of relief. I tear my gaze away from the picture then turn around, my hand dropping to my sides. My koibito stands before me, looking incredible in a tight-ish black T-shirt, equally clingy jeans with a rip on one knee, and a pair of dusty black rubber shoes. His red hair is perfectly tousled, and the puzzled expression on his face gives him the comic image of an innocent individual mistakenly included in America's Most Wanted.

Considering my previous speculations, I suddenly have the urge to pin him against the wall and kiss him like there's no tomorrow. But since we're surrounded by the bustling mass of humanity scurrying up and down the busy streets, I decide to tone it down to full powered flirting. "I was just thinking of something beautiful…" I answer, letting one corner of my mouth quirk up in a half-smile.

"Yeah?" One thick eyebrow lifts. Like what?"

"You."

"Oh." He smiles, a blush creeping up to his cheeks like I knew they would. His gaze veers down and catches sight of the photograph in my grasp. Before I can pocket it, he snatches it from me in one swift motion.

"Hey, what's this?" Upon seeing the picture, his eyes bulge and his blush deepens. "Akira, you hentai!"

I grin, and pluck the photo from his hands. "And you thought I smiled for no reason…" I jibed playfully.

He huffed and looked away, lifting his hands exasperatedly. "You are impossible. I don't know what to do with you!"

I slung an arm around his shoulder, looking at him fondly. "Aw you're just saying that. But once we get to the movie house you'll know exactly what to--"

"We're gonna be late," he interrupts, grabbing my wrist and checking the time. He removes my arm from his shoulders and starts walking. "The movie's gonna start in fifteen minutes!"

I sigh. Leave it to Hanamichi to get right into business twenty seconds upon arrival after keeping me waiting for half an hour. But before I can jog after him, he turns around.

"What?" I ask.

He looks at me meaningfully. "No ass-grabbing in the train, got that?"

I fight back a sheepish grin and go back to flirt approach. "Oh yeah?" I raise my eyebrows. "That's not what your jeans are telling me."

He scowls again and opens his mouth to retort, but I cut him off, raising one hand in reluctant agreement. "Okay, I won't do anything… in the train."

He folds his arms. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I walk over to him, feigning innocence. "Well we are going to a movie where everything is shadowed and…"

He shot me the Look. The patented Akira-Sendoh-you-are-an-insufferably-perverted-creep-and-I-must-be-crazy-to-be-in-love-with-you look. I stifle a laugh and reclaim my arm's post around his shoulders and steer the both of us towards the train station. He can act all he wants but I know he's also looking forward to the prospect of fooling around again in a couple of dark movie seats.

Just another reason why I love him so much. I look up, sigh contentedly, remembering the saying that I've kept close to memory because of its extreme relevance.

Perversion may have its issues but as long as Hana-kun's with me, I'm willing to deal-- physically or otherwise.

::hentai smile:: Do I live up to my image or what?

-FIN-

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