Epilogue
A few days before Eyes and Lies, Chapter 9, Peeking Behind The Bush
"Ryuugamine-kun? Did you decide which club you'll enter?"
"Your stew as amazing! Don't you want to check out the cooking club?"
"Your grades in the previous test were spectacular, why don't you join the Science Club?"
Kiyoshi recoiled at the noisy students swarming his desk. He retracted his arms and averted their gazes, shifty green pants and pleated skirts extending over his sight.
"I don't know yet," he replied to the first question.
"What did you say?" A guy asked curiously.
Startled, Kiyoshi's voice got caught in his throat. He held onto one of his arms, struggling to speak. He had already rejected their invitations, but they kept coming back.
"I-I-I sa-id--" Kiyoshi stuttered, his nails digging into his arms. "I do-don't know. . ."
Leave me alone. Just leave me alone.
Being the center of the attention meant drowning in the sea, the sea of curious stares that became critical and hateful, and Kiyoshi was running out of breath.
"Hey, hey, I'm sure Ryuugamine-kun still has things to do. Let's give him some space, okay?" Another guy said as he approached, but Kiyoshi refused to look up.
The mob walked away with comments Kiyoshi didn't care to hear. It wasn't until the outline of his desk was completely clear that he let out a soft exhale.
"They are excited someone from Teikoku came to a regular class. . . I'm surprised too."
Kiyoshi tensed and looked up in instinct. It was the guy who pushed the nuisance away.
The guy drawled his neck, jet-black hair framed his face, subtle features twisting in an awkward laugh.
Kiyoshi quickly looked away.
"I don't care," he said.
"Ah-ah. . . yeah."
Kiyoshi stood up and left the classroom, evading all eyes. His face was hot, lips letting out of soft pants. Speaking has always been this hard; being around people shook him to the core.
He heard the same boy call out to him from behind. Kiyoshi, maintaining his pace, reached the guys' toilet and promptly splashed cold water on his face.
Kiyoshi gasped, relaxing his muscles little by little at the sense of solitude. The toilet had been the most peaceful place at school for a while. No one came here often, and they didn't stay for long. Private time between classes was imperative, especially now as Teikoku's blonde transfer student. So many seemed to be all over him.
He wished his western features stopped attracting attention. Any type of attention predisposes him to trouble. No exceptions.
"Hey, I was talking to you!"
Kiyoshi jumped and turned around before frowning at the guy.
"What do you want?" He asked with a flat voice.
The boy visibly flinched and took a step back. "Why are you angry? I was the one who was ignored," he said fearfully.
"And you stalked me to the toilet?" Kiyoshi's face twisted with disgust.
"That. . ." The guy stammered. "That's because you were ignoring me!" he fumed.
Kiyoshi snorted. This guy was stupid.
He took a pair of napkins and dried his face, erasing the guy's worthless presence from his mind. Staring at his complexion in the next mirror, Kiyoshi checked for pimples. The water removed the cream he applied this morning. Again.
Kiyoshi sighed.
"I just wanted to talk to you. . ." The guy trailed off in a small voice.
"I don't," Kiyoshi replied instantly, throwing the paper in the trash before pushing the door to the hallway.
People will dirty him; he must stay white and pure.
It was a promise to himself he musn't break.
"How's Kidokawa?" Keima asked rather coldly, staring at the library's computer screen. They had installed a game in the next PC moments before. Sounds from a heated battle whispered from both computers.
Kiyoshi brought his eyes back to his own on-going fight.
"As good as it can be,"he replied. Which means, not much.
Keima knew to not pry into his school's social life. It was practically non-existent.
Transfering to Kidokawa Seishuu wasn't a chance to start over--new year, new me kind of shit--but a chance to grasp his dream. He didn't have time to waste on people who didn't take him there.
Keima was an exception, though.
"I think I'm getting the hang of this," his friend commented. "Oh, I leveled up! Which power should I upgrade?"
Kiyoshi peered into Keima's screen. "This one." He tapped the second one and went back to his computer.
"Thanks." Keima clicked.
At the enemy base, Keima's units served as a decoy before Kiyoshi's entered when the enemy was weakened, his primary unit engaging with one of the generals. He had plenty of HP; a hard kill. Kiyoshi's teeth gritted.
"Did you speak with Kidou?" Keima asked, breaking through his intense focus.
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" Kiyoshi yelled frantically, heart going overdrive at the sudden image of the googled boy. "He's gonna kill me! He's gonna kill me!" he shrieked, struggling to defeat the enemy with heated clicks.
Keima chuckled. "I got your back. Don't worry." A moment later, his powered up move fell on the general, lowering his bar drastically. "You look kind of happy today."
Kiyoshi grimaced, his face heating up. "I di-did."
"You really like him, don't you?" Keima asked in a casual tone.
Kiyoshi glanced at him before looking at the ground. The general was gone. Their troops were defeating the remaining soldiers and demolishing their buildings.
"Uhn. . ." Kiyoshi was uncertain for a moment. "Don't you think it's odd. . . me liking a guy?"
"Not really," Keima answered. He was always accepting. "It's obvious when you like someone."
Kiyoshi looked up, facing Keima's helpless grin.
"Ah-ah. . ." He froze in place, their gazes connected. "You knew. . ." He covered his mouth with the back of his hand and looked away.
"Yeah. . . I don't mind. You liking me. . . and Kidou now." Keima forced another chuckle.
Kiyoshi listened to his quickened hearbeat. He wondered if Keima meant romantically. His feelings made him looked up to his cool friend, and Keima loved that. No, he used to have a girlfriend. He knows what kind of feelings Kiyoshi harbored.
". . . Thanks for not judging me," Kiyoshi said quietly. Lifting a hand to his face, he would believe he was expelling smoke. "Ugh, my face is so red."
He felt Keima's fingers fiddle with his hair before his clear voice hovered on top of his head. "It's okay."
Kiyoshi blinked. "Kidou-san noticed, you know? The red oni. I wasn't using my full power in the tryouts, and he called me out."
Keima pulled away, evoking a sense of longing for his affectionate petting on Kiyoshi. "I see. . ."
Kiyoshi smiled at him, detaching his sigh from Keima's hand. "He's cool. Kidou-san." He looked down shyly. "I really want to play by his side again."
Keima returned a wistful smile. "You will, Kiyoshi."
Kiyoshi fanned with the inside of his shirt as he pulled away from the binoculars, eyes sweaty. He had discovered a suitable spot to spy on the team, but the heat was harsh.
Sitting on the grass, spying behind a bush with a pair of binoculars he got from Keima; he truly seemed like a spy. Kiyoshi completed his first mission and was on standby. Kidou-san praised his analysis, but he wasn't into hissatsus. His were given to him.
Kiyoshi cleaned his face off and looked up. At least the tree provided some cool shade.
After a chug of water, he pushed away a patch of leaves and checked Gouenji's position.
The first year passed two defenders before the ball bounced from and to him, scoring with a powerful kick.
"Gouenji is hella strong," Kiyoshi said, mouth agape. "Stronger than Keima. . . Wow. . . He won't like that, haha."
"Who are you?"
"Wah!" Kiyoshi screamed, the binoculars slipping from his hands as he fell back.
He lifted his gaze at the voice and was met with brilliant violet eyes. Kiyoshi was impressed for a moment--they were a weird bright color--but his world froze he realized the person was a girl.
A girl that at first looked like Arisugawa, eyes that always look up to the blue sky.
Kiyoshi's limbs convulsed. His skin prickled, cold climbing from his fingertips and infecting his body. His senses, shutting down one by one, focused on one sound, short and quick breaths that shifted his consciousness in an out of reality.
She wasn't Arisugawa, and he wasn't as weak as back then. But it was the trauma, the rooted fear that petrified him. Rationality was useless.
"Who are you?" She repeated, her light voice slapping Kiyoshi back to reality.
He looked away. His mind was a mess; unable to register her words, worst reply. He was a little bunny in front of a wild animal.
"You are that transfer student," she continued with an inquiring tone. "Why are you. . . That man sent you," she stated.
Kiyoshi's eyes widen. Hearing the grass shift, he regained the courage to look up.
The girl had turned and was about to go back her way.
His arm twitched. He had to immobilize her. Right at that moment. But the resemblance to that bitch didn't allow him to touch her.
He could only watch helplessly as the girl walked away.
A couple of days later, he was called to the Coach's office. There, the girl was presented as his enemy in this stupid farce of a game. To Kiyoshi's surprise, his first mission had been a test, and that he was believed to be the little girl's replacement.
If she hadn't found out.
Blocking out the rest of the conversation, Kiyoshi trembled with anger. The memory of Arisugawa Chika's torment won't leave him, and now this girl was ready to snatch his only hope.
But this time was different, Kiyoshi had a goal to protect. It was evident Sumire Yuu had aged out. Victory was his.
He will do whatever it takes to beat her and stay pure. That was the only thing he couldn't lose.