Chapter 32: Lion's Den
Kiyoshi failed to realize the overblown rumors about him weren't a simple past-time for bored teenagers. They were fuel to a fire that had sparked without his knowing. That heat filled a ballon, and that day, it popped.
He grabbed his stinking indoor shoes from the locker, smeared with dirt and bugs, and walked out of the building. It was going to get worse, he mourned. He wished he were wrong.
"Ryuugamine-senpai, good morning." Kiyoshi turned to see Kidokawa's youngest forward approaching. He nodded back meekly. "What are you doing here?"
Kiyoshi glanced at the side, the pitch on sight. He turned back to the outdoor sinks. "Uh, washing my shoes, I guess." He shrugged. Grimacing as the first-year leaned in to peer, a complex feeling soured his mood. Under the open faucet, the shoes overflowed with water.
"Classes will start soon," Gouenji-kun politely informed.
Kiyoshi nodded silently, a prickly smell stinging his nose. "You should take a shower. I don't want you to be late because of me."
The younger boy understood, twisted his upper body but suddenly bounced back. "Have you thought about my proposal?" Kiyoshi tilted his head. "The team," he explained.
"Oh!" Did he never reply? He closed the tap and squeezed his shoulders apologetically. "Um, sorry. Think I'll pass."
There was a flash of sadness in Gouenji-kun's maroon eyes. "Can I know why?"
Kiyoshi bit the inside of his lip, gazing at those eager eyes brimming of life. Gouenji-kun had an immaculate beauty and when he realized there was no one around, that if he wanted to do it, it was now. He turned away. "Life, that's all. You should go." He didn't answer the boy's farewell, clutching his head after the footsteps faded. "I can't break him. I can't do the same thing again. I don't understand what's so special about him. I can't even touch him."
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The money for the textbooks was from Teikoku, not mother's, but their absence from his desk still stung. Pretend he had something he didn't, unable to report to an adult and pinpoint the culprit; Kiyoshi had forgotten the stress from bullying. Those lonely days as a first-year were a paradise compared to this.
"Hey, loser," Kiyoshi ignored that and the jarring laughs that followed. "What, you still think you are the big shit?" He gripped his lunch as the desk rattled from a kick. Noticing the Mukata triplets sneering in their corner, he tried to wipe their existence from his mind.
"Listen, idiot--" His collar was yanked, dragging his weakened body against his will. Startled, he thrust the boy's face away, changing to his arm as he felt the guy's unsettling skin against his hand.
"Don't. . . touch me." He groaned.
"Hey, you little! You guys!"
Kiyoshi pushed himself off the seat and away from the bully, clinging to his bento. Five unfamiliar guys were making crooked faces at him, the leader strikingly smaller and bitter in the frontlines. Kiyoshi closed the box lunch with care.
The classroom was utterly silent.
"You can't beat me up here," Kiyoshi said.
"Huh, why not?" The second from the right asked.
"There are too many people," Kiyoshi replied meekly. "A teacher would come soon." He relaxed, witnessing hesitation in some of their faces.
"Not if we take you somewhere else!" Before the notorious group moved, Kiyoshi dashed towards the backdoor. He heard some yells and shoes smacking against the floor but he didn't look back. While it was surprisingly effortless to escape the building, he worried about his belongings. Mother would scold him if they broke. The gruesome sight of torn notebooks and crushed pencils made his skin crawl.
Would Hirawa shelter them? Judging by his rough attitude in his fake friend group, it was unlikely. However, he couldn't blame him. If he got involved in this for associating with Kiyoshi, he wouldn't forgive himself. Hirawa had to spend another year here.
In the halls, students gave him startled or indignant glances before looking away. This is what being hated was like. The past had finally caught up with him.
He stayed for a few minutes in the infirmary until the group has dispersed and retraced his steps.
"What the--? What kind of idiot returns to the classroom?!" The pipsqueak who seized his collar retorted. He was a full head smaller. It seemed he was the boss of the violent group, for he stayed behind and had that stupid Do-What-I-Say attitude without a real presence to back that attitude up. Kiyoshi pushed past him but in response, the shorty gripped his arm.
"I told you not to touch me!" He struggled to get free, blood running cold when he hit the boy in the temple by accident. Protecting his face from the incoming punch, he muttered a curse.
"Stop it, Yuuta-kun!" a girl yelled. "You are hurting him!"
"Shut up, ugly! He started!"
Kiyoshi felt worse when she stepped between them. They argued for a while before things calmed down. He couldn't thank her. He didn't have the guts to talk to a girl, walking away and sinking on his seat instead. The thorny weight on his stomach must be from the stares everyone was giving with their new judgments about him.
Never had he been more grateful for the break to end. The final bell was a sign of salvation until he was called to the student council room. He sighed deeply. He wanted to leave the school so badly. Maybe he should wait until clubs start running.
From the disdainful looks of the students in the other building, similar rumors had spread. At least the third floor was less crowded. It was calming.
"Ryuugamine-kun. . ."
"Wha-ah, Miki. . . o." Kiyoshi gripped the handle of his now overstuffed bag and lowered his fists.
"Is your arm okay?" Mikio asked. Stroking the targeted limb to confirm, Kiyoshi nodded. "I'm glad. How did things come to this? Yesterday was fine."
"I think rumors are spreading," Kiyoshi said. And they may be right for once.
"But they can't be true. You have nothing to do with that girl!" Hirawa set a hand on his chest and stared with begging eyes ". . . Right, Ryuugamine-kun?"
"Kiyoshi," he muttered sadly. "Don't use my last name."
"Oi, we have been waiting for you." Kensou menacingly approached from the hallway. Kiyoshi shifted his gaze between them, bowed to Hirawa, and turned to the third-year.
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"That man is evil itself," the president cursed, open hand on his mouth. "I gave him more credit than I should have."
"I know that man well. He doesn't expect Ryuugamine-kun nor I to harm Gouenji-kun. He must have a plan."
Kensou leaned forward. "Kageyama wouldn't assign a pair of kids to do his dirty work. Even less after failing."
"This is my opinion," the girl replied. She was eerily composed around the upperclassmen after being suspended for a week that hadn't yet passed. Kidou-san was right, she could deal with anything. Now facing whatever the Coach was truly planning, it seemed. "I believe--maybe he allowed us to decide how Gouenji-kun will be hurt." Her voice became wistful. "If he is confident his plan will succeed, we can move around the gray area." The President requested an explanation. "For example," she gestured with a finger. "I can make Gouenji-kun have a cold. He will be unable to attend the match. The result is all that man wants. How it happens is none of his concern."
"Kageyama does have a modus operandi!" Kensou barked. "That first-year will definitely end up in an accident. That's how Kageyama works without staining his hands."
The president nodded grimly. "So to prevent that level of harm, he offered you a choice."
"I believe so."
"What do you think, Ryuugamine-kun?"
Kiyoshi flinched and fidgeted. "Um, why am I here?"
"Exactly." Kensou rolled his eyes. "Even Miss I'm-Too-Important-For-Rules here asked for us specifically."
Sumire hissed at him.
The other third-year answered, "Ryuugamine-kun received the exact same order. He's a vital part of this meeting."
"I agree with the President." Sumire glanced suspiciously at Kiyoshi. "I also believe his presence is crucial. We may not know that man's movements, but we can learn his."
Kiyoshi looked around and took a step back. Why were they looking at him?
The President stroke with the essential question. "What will you do? Obey Teikoku's Commander, or not?"
In other words, was he an enemy, or not? Kiyoshi looked down. "I-I don't know."
"I can't believe you are even considering it," Sumire hissed. "He looks up to you! As foolish as that is."
Kiyoshi grabbed a blonde patch of hair, blocking her figure from view. "I know. I'm the worst."
"Yes, you are the worst." He heard her shoes shift. "That's all I needed to know from my part."
"Me too. Ryuugamine-kun--"
"Can I stay here?" Kiyoshi interrupted. "I won't tell the Coach anything. I feel I can make a choice if I hear what you guys are talking about." There was an unusual moment of silence before the President replied positively. Kiyoshi sat on the farthest couch and gazed over the three. They were on a whole other level, debating over the Coach's devious plan and how to counter it. He didn't know what choice to take but it was unmistakable the thought of injuring Gouenji-kun made him sick.
They spoke for a while before the President glanced at his watch and ushered Kiyoshi out of the room. He complied and gratefully thanked him for the hospitality. Gently closing the door shut, he sighed. A loud snap struck his nerves to stand on one end. He followed the sound and--
He couldn't believe his eyes. It had to be a hallucination. He had a feeling the door opened but he couldn't tell. The pale, fair-headed girl, standing in the middle of the hall with a comparable amount of shock in her eyes, stared back at him.
"Mi-Miyu-chan?" That red bow behind her head was unmistakable. The sharpness in those icy blue eyes was just like mother's.
"What are you doing here?!" Ah, even her voice made him flashback to mother's scolding. She stared at the door, most likely putting all the pieces together. She was always so smart. She was his precious little sister.
"Miyu-chan." Kiyoshi smiled softly, taking a step forward. Her long flaxen hair swayed as she sprung back. Her fists shook and she looked away, nose scrunched.
"I. . . I'm sorry," he apologized. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I-I missed you. A lot. I--" Squeezing his sweaty palms, he took a moment to pull himself together. "I'm so happy to see you." She had grown into a beautiful young woman. The little girl that had trouble holding her food and dressing up was wearing an ironed uniform. Her hair was brushed. Her posture was serious. Kiyoshi covered his face and began to sob. "You have grown so much. I'm so happy. Miyu. . . hic. . . chan."
She released a deep sigh and approached. "The student council. They are in a meeting, aren't they?"
Between his fingers and blurry sight, he noticed she intended to touch him. Unable to restrain himself, he launched at her, coiling his arms tightly. She immediately tensed; a familiar reaction. "I missed you so much," he said between cries. "I missed you. I missed you. I missed you. So so so much!"
He felt her lungs inflate, shoulders expanding with the action. She exhaled deeply. "Don't get snot on my clothes."
A chuckle escaped from his lips. "I won't." He smiled when their gazes met for a fraction and cupped her soft hand around his.
Kiyoshi happily helped to gather the papers that had fallen from her arms and placed them beside the door. With a bashful request to spend some time together that Miyu-chan accepted, he made his way to the stairs. Keeping her silhouette on the corner of his eye, his hand itched to clasp hers.
Mikio was at the bottom of the stairs, gaze darting between them. My two favorite girls, Kiyoshi gasped. He smiled at the black-haired, quickly whispering, 'My little sister. I'll introduce you later.' He couldn't see her reaction, but he hoped she was surprised.
After they found a nearby bench, Miyu-chan sighed. "Are you okay?" Kiyoshi asked. She didn't reply. "How's. . ." he trailed off as he noticed Miyu-chan glaring at the solid ground. "Did you. . . not want to see me?" Was she always that pale?
She leaned forward. "No, I didn't think we would meet. Father knows you are attending Kidokawa Seishuu. He's well."
Kiyoshi bit his lip. Maybe they should postpone this. "I don't want to pressure you against your will." Look at him, being considerate to another human being from the get-go.
"No, I'm fine." She faced him as if that should convince him. Her palms were shaking. Kiyoshi slid across the bench, putting some reasonable distance between their bodies. He used to dream of this day. When did he forget about her and dad? Why did he seal the most blissful moments in his life? Yet none of those questions mattered. He had to help her.
"Miyu-chan, we don't have to talk right now. I'm fine with enjoying each other's presence."
Her eyes narrowed to a fierce glare. "I told you, I'm fine." Kiyoshi stuttered and lowered his head. Miyu-chan sighed again and he began to panic. "Why aren't you saying anything?" she asked.
"Ah, right, so-sorry!" What could he ask? It had been so long. There were so many things but the uncomfortable silence was upsetting. "Maybe. . . we can talk about the past later." Miyuki immediately looked displeased. He felt stupid.
"I thought you hadn't changed at all. But I was wrong." Her hands tightened. "Living with that woman must be hell."
Kiyoshi chuckled dryly, awkward. "It is--"
"Then why are you with her?" Kiyoshi pressed his lips and looked away. He didn't know the answer. "She never loved you." He heard a crack deep inside. "Yet you followed her when she told you to. She doesn't want our father to see you--after what I did to hold us together, you--"
"I know! I know! I know!" he snapped. "I'm an idiot. An obedient idiot who can't do anything alone. I haven't changed at all!"
"That's not what I meant," her voice flattened. "What I said was out of place. I can't know you are the same."
"Would it be better if I were?"
Another crack.
"The brother I knew never listened to that woman and was always by my side," she reminisced.
"Would you hate the person I have become?" Kiyoshi asked, misery thumping against his ribcage.
Miyuki stared back with a complex expression. "I won't answer that." Before Kiyoshi could burst his anxiety out, she added. "I need to know you first." She asked why he was in Kidokawa, and he decided to tell her the real reason. Her initial reaction was surprisingly calm, producing a dull hum in acknowledgment. "You don't have confidence in your skill, so you decided to accept an unreasonable deal." She huffed lightly.
The corner of his mouth twitched. She hadn't lost her touch.
"What do you have to do now?" Kiyoshi considered the answer. He warned her this wouldn't be a pretty story, then briefed about the last mission. Her callous gaze wavered. "Why are you telling me this?"
"I don't know what to do. I thought maybe you could help me." He lowered his head. "Um, sorry, maybe this is too much."
"It's not. Don't say that. I hate it." Kiyoshi snapped his head up. She hates it? Were his ears failing? Did she express her hatred towards something? People really change with time. Maybe not for the worse.
"Will you do it?" Miyuki asked, snapping Kiyoshi back from his growing epiphany.
He tousled his hair. "I would be a terrible person if I hurt him."
Miyuki nodded. "It boils down to hurting an innocent person being worth getting into that team. Some can do it. Some cannot."
He blinked. "Um, Miyu-chan, who are those 'some that can do it'?"
"Doesn't matter." She gave him a once-over. "If you haven't done it already, then you fall into the latter group."
He smiled lightly. "I really don't want to hurt him."
Her shoulders eased. "Then that part hasn't changed from the person I knew."
Out of curiosity, Kiyoshi asked about their childhood to compare their memories. According to Miyu-chan, he used to run around places, giggling and grinning and yelling. He couldn't retrieve a single detail about his old friends, but he didn't recall traditionally spending much time home either. Miyu-chan said he was always out with others. Kiyoshi couldn't help but think of the friendly Keima and how ironic their roles were similar once.
"Say, how come you are still wearing that?" He aimed at the bow behind her head. The formerly deep red had faded, and the corners were battered.
Miyu-chan grazed the accessory and shrugged. "Why not?" Kiyoshi giggled. He won that for her at a festival. The fact that she still wore it for no reason could be because she was attached to him.
"Can I ask you a favor?" he asked before standing up.
"Depends."
"I want to meet dad."
Lion's Den | End