Chapter 2: Rocky Road Ahead
"Those who got red marks, come see me during the break," Sakaki-sensei, the Math teacher, said as the bell rang.
I leaned my chin on my curled fist, sighing as I lazily observed the middle-aged teacher leave the classroom.
My eyes inevitably fell to the score scribbled on the paper. I let out an indifferent sigh. Flickering the quiz over, I leaned my head to the window.
I was thankful my seat was in the top far corner of the classroom away from the noise. I felt my consciousness fade away and my body relax until the next teacher slammed the front door open.
I let out a small squeak and shook my head, getting ready for the next class.
Morning classes eventually ended and the bell that signaled lunch time rang. Folding the test and sliding it inside a pocket on my skirt before standing up, I intended to go to the faculty office.
"Sumire-san!" A familiar voice called from the back. "Let's each lunch." Mitsumiya, a girl I became acquainted with, stood beside the desk we eat lunch beside her childhood friend, Odayaka Chiyo-chan who smiled cheerfully. An aspiring cook and a sportswoman were the least likely friends I thought I would associate with.
I nodded at Mitsumiya and waved demurely. "I'm going to the restroom. I will be back," I said, my voice quieter than usual, walking out after hearing her demotivated reply.
"Geez," Sakaki-sensei complained as he stared at the quiz I handed back, leaning on the back of the poor squeaking chair. A pencil eraser quietly tapped the desk like a metronome setting the beat. "What did you learn in grade school to get grades like this? I heard your grades weren't this bad."
My expression fell further, his words distant but hurtful. I commanded myself to wake up and reply but I desired the relaxing comfort of my bed, yet, I was fearful I wouldn't be able to close my eyes for long.
"Were you confident or something?" he teased with a grin, frowning the next moment. The pencil stopped. "Are you listening, Sumire-san?"
My shoulders jumped. "Um, yes!" I scrunched my eyes shut for a moment and opened them, the world regaining focus every so slightly. I spoke with mock cheer, "To be honest, I have considered attending a cram school. Although there aren't many near my neighborhood." I blinked repeatedly with a lazy tight smile to prove I was awake.
"That is good." He placed a thick elbow on the chair. The pencil resumed the beat, albeit slower. "At least it seems you care." 'Who does he think he is?' I thought, holding my reply. "I heard your parents owned some businesses," he continued teasing, "Shouldn't this come easy? They are just numbers after all."
I huffed lightly, my eyelids halfway succumbing to its weight. "Sensei," I unintentionally drawled instead of sounding serious, "I know what I should be doing to prevent this from happening again. Isn't that the point of this talk?"
He frowned, slapping the pencil on the table. "Well, you better start on it. If you fail in the upcoming test, you will do a make-up exam. No excuses this time."
"I understand," I grumbled, his reprimand piercing through my eardrums.
He took the pencil again and tapped with the sharp end. "I'll put the make up test on the day of the qualifying match if you don't show improvement. It's right around that time."
My eyes widened, the words like a slap that woke my mind. "What?! You. . . wouldn't--!"
"Just because you are the soccer club manager and the Commander's eyes doesn't mean you can do what you want," he reproached, flickering the pencil in a vertical position and incessantly tapping the tip against his desk.
"I know that!" I grew flustered, "I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't care!" I covered my mouth and glanced at the nearby surroundings, the few teachers around engrossed in their work to listen to a student's outburst. "Isn't your job to help me?!" I hissed in a low voice.
Sakaki-sensei raised a confused eyebrow and flipped back the paper. "Then this is nothing more than an incentive." His eyes narrowed. "And you are a student first and foremost."
I gave him a look, took the paper from his chubby fingers, and excused myself, trotting towards the classroom with a tight frown. Soon, an idea made me blink away the growing foul mood. "This is a perfect chance," I perked up and slid the paper back into my skirt pocket before paying a quick visit to the restroom to wash my face and clear my mind before reapplying the concealers to hide the dark circles under my eyes.
Entering the classroom with confident strides, my eyes searched for a certain spiky-haired student. Locking sights with Mitsumiya and Chiyo-chan, I made a gesture with my hand before resuming the search. Soon I found the boy as he erased the chalkboard.
"Gouenji-kun," I called with a friendly smile. "Do you have a moment?"
He looked down with his usual stoic expression and lowered his arm, a silent gesture that I had his attention.
At that moment, my neck prickled in a familiar manner. I lifted my hand in front of Gouenji-kun. "Actually, can we talk outside the classroom? I believe it won't take long."
He nodded obediently and placed back the eraser, however, as we were about to leave the classroom, he threw a quiet "wait" a trotted back to his seat. As I trailed his figure, my eyes fell on the source of discomfort; a group of girls, their glares sharpening as our sights locked. Locking my fingers behind my back, I innocently took a few steps back to fall outside the classroom.
I grimaced. "If rumors start about him and I, would I be able to stop them?" I sighed. "How annoying. I never quite understood why sportsmen are so popular."
Gouenji-kun and I talked about morning practice and the team--neither of us had the intention to step over our boundaries or get personal. He didn't ask if I was able to get the doctor's certification to take part in club activities Coach Nikaidou requested--which I did--and I didn't bring the topic at all.
I wrote reports about the team members as soccer players, but I was sure that man would be interested in personal information. Luckily, I was given a believable excuse to breach our club-matters-only relationship.
I glanced at Gouenji-kun and studied his features, suspicious settling as he hadn't yet asked where I was taking him.
As we reached the third floor, the energy I had built had ebbed out. I heard a loud teasing hum. In front of us was a girl, her uniform violating at least five school rules, including skirt length.
"If it isn't the first years," she taunted, holding her weight on one leg.
I lifted my eyebrows and tilted my head, stopping for the sake of politeness. "Excuse me?" I feigned ignorance, carefully inspecting her appearance to bring up a name and any information I had of her: cherry red hair softly curled, scrunched eyes under a thin frown line, and sculpted legs like marble.
"Don't pretend," she complained, one eyelid lower than the other. "Everyone knows you two are going out. You are always together outside of class."
Taken aback, a waved a hand rapidly. "Senpai, I am sure you are misunderstanding." I recognized her as Takanashi Amami, the ace of the basketball club who was interviewed as a second year for a sports magazine; she came to the soccer field once. "It's only natural for the captain and manager to be around each other. We want to make the soccer club grow." I shot him a smile. "Right, Gouenji-kun?"
His clueless expression only angered Senpai further. I snapped my head back and widened my smile. "Anyway, Senpai, can we talk about this during club time? We are busy right now. And lunch break will finish soon," I said breezily.
She crossed her arms with a 'hmph', and I took it as a sign to move on. I thanked her and stepped forward but because of an almost inaudible comment, my feet stopped before reaching the third step.
"A boy and a girl can't be together unless one is interested in the other."
Before I could think, I was closing into her, staring right into her half-closed amber eyes. "If you are that lonely that you are going to spread baseless rumors, why don't you confess to Terajima-senpai and cry over a broken heart instead of grumbling to two first years who are too involved in their club to think about something as worthless as romance!"
Senpai's face went red to her ears. Giving her one last swift glare, I ascended the stairs as I fumed. Soon, I heard Gouenji-kun's footsteps behind me.
"People should stop being so petty and cowardly and start solving their problems," I hissed. But that anger resided as I realized I had finally done justice to the same comment towards Yuuto and me a year ago.
I opened my eyes, finding we had reached the last floor. I distinguished the door to the roof was at the far right in the hazy view. Detaching myself from the wall, I blinked.
I pressed a hand against my chest. Between the feeling of nostalgia and accomplishment, there was something else I couldn't pinpoint. Yet, as I noticed Gouenji-kun's figure, the thought slipped away replaced with an urgent question.
"Gouenji-kun, why do you. . . trust--" I stopped for a moment and murmured, "I believe it is trust. Why do you trust me?"
His eyes widened ever so slightly before pondering deeply. "I heard about you from a boy who transferred from Gakushuin Elementary." Giving the boy's name, it was clear he was a former member of the soccer club. That boy and I grew close when I first became the manager. He loved flowers as much as his mother and wanted to take over his family's flower shop.
My last name, Sumire, written as the flower, means small love, small bliss, or sincerity, he once explained. I couldn't voice agreement. The Sumire Foundation and my violet eyes were a symbol of pride and power, not "small", and definitely not "sincere", for the best choices require a great sacrifice.
"So!" I leaned against the wall and placed a leg over the other, smiling playfully. "I take it what he said was accurate."
"Yeah, more the most part," he replied simply.
I blinked, confused. "Was he wrong about something?"
He looked down with a stoic expression. "I didn't take you to go out of your way to help someone. But that depends on the circumstance." He shrugged.
I hummed thoughtfully as if I understood his words. "Anyway, we shouldn't take long." I pulled out the quiz and showed him my sorry score. My eyebrow twitched as his lips suppressed a chuckle. "Sakaki-sensei will put the make-up test on the day of the qualifying match if I fail the next test. . ." I trailed off, building the courage to ask.
"Then," Gouenji-kun said, "In exchange, I want your help with this." He pulled out a paper of his own, perhaps what he retrieved from his desk before leaving the classroom. The paper read 'Fire Tornado -Kidokawa Seishuu Soccer Club' with a set of instructions in clean writing.
I grabbed the lower corner of the paper and pulled it closer. "This is a hissatsu, right?" I asked suspiciously.
He nodded.
I suppressed a grin and a scream, hanging a small smile. "Alright. I'll help you."
⚽️🌸⚽️
In the passing days, Gouenji-kun and I devised his new training with Coach Nikaidou's help; he wasn't in the school when it was first created, so we heavily depended on the instructions. Firstly, Gouenji-kun learned how to do an overhead. Until then, we reviewed the material that would be on the test at the local library after school where I learned about his family: his father was a doctor working at a local hospital, and he had a little sister. However, sadness that washed over in his eyes when I asked about his mother. I changed the topic.
Yet, despite a week to know him better, I wasn't able to cross the distance he held against the other team members and everyone else. He was a reserved boy who spoke when necessary, and while I respected his idiosyncrasy and was at awe at his intelligence, the lack of will, or perhaps ability to get close to others would someday accrue interest.
I presented my report with a proud smile.
"Sumire, Sakaki contacted me," that man said, closing the notebook in an unusually slow movement.
Breathing caught on my throat, I couldn't help but grab the side of my skirt for reassurance. The air grew cold and uncomfortable even Yuuto shifted.
"What did he say?" I stuttered, glancing down in embarrassment at my voice.
"Your reports haven't gotten any better, and your grades are falling." He leaned back on the wide chair with poise and authority. "You are failing to uphold your end. Do you have a plan to uphold your grades after the Football Frontier is over?"
"Tha--that, cram school! Yes!" I exclaimed with mock excitement, my heart beating faster.
"You believe it will aid you to stay in the advanced course?" he asked, impassive.
My voice deflated. "I. . . I won't know unless I try," I replied unsurely. I glanced at Yuuto's stoic expression, wondering why that man never brought up the terms of the deal in front of him, speaking through subtext he would hardly be able to put together.
"This isn't elementary school. And you aren't a kid anymore." That man leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk. "You have a bigger responsibility than that. If it doesn't come as second nature, how are you planning to handle human relationships and other responsibilities?"
I stared at the floor, fingertips trembling. The person I used to be was able to handle school and relationships like no other. If I was--
"The past you was also able to handle this level of pressure," he said, voicing my thoughts.
I nodded firmly, biting my lip. "You are correct. I was able to handle this. I have a responsibility. But I can't accept it. Not right now," I admitted.
My death sentence fell as if I was Marie Antoinette under the guillotine: he pushed himself back, shifting the chair to the side. "If you fail this test, you will transfer to Mikage Sennou where you will focus on your studies. That is all."
⚽️🌸⚽️
The walk to the outside was silent. Deadly silent. My view was full of the dark metallic tiles of Teikoku's halls, and all my senses were cut from my eyes: I didn't hear, feel, taste, or smell. Nothing, just like when Higashi-san dragged me out of the house after the armed men left two corpses in the room. I was empty. A living doll.
When we reached the entrance, Yuuto turned to me with a worried frown. "Do you. . . want to eat something?"
"Ice cream."
A few still seconds later, I felt his hand slowly wrap around mine. He carefully turned around and walked, pulling me along.
I stared at his back, then at my hand. 'Let him,' I thought, 'it doesn't matter.'
Eventually, we reached an ice cream parlor in the city's square. The sun was almost down and the streetlights shone like fireflies.
"We should be going home soon," I blankly muttered. Yuuto looked at me, then asked if I had chosen a flavor. A moment later, his hand flinched when a female worker asked for our order, hesitation over letting go of my hand.
After scanning the list, I chose the one that sounded best, written in English. "Rocky Road."
From the corner of my eye, I saw Yuuto's shoulders slump.
We sat outside with our ice creams and began to eat quietly.
Yuuto broke the silence.
"I think it's not a bad--"
"I would rather die than go to a nerd's school," I interrupted, stabbing the memory of the ice cream ball before staring at him. "No questions asked."
Yuuto lowered his head and stared at his cup, eyebrows knitting in a manner I knew very well: his vast knowledge that led to awareness, seeing that man's side, and perhaps mine. I observed intently, not taking a step forward or back.
The stores began to crowd, the chatter increasing. I pulled my legs up, took the cup from the table, and buried myself on the chair.
"What are you doing?" Yuuto asked.
"Hiding."
". . . Why?"
"I have no right to be here," I casually replied with what would anger him. Staring at his troubled figure, I hung a small smile. "I am useless now, am I not?" I asked. Efficacy was ingrained in Yuuto and I since we were little. Cut off the unnecessary and the useless to maximize profit. Everyone knew that mantra. That man in particular was known put it harshly in practice.
I had the pleasure to see Yuuto's mask crumble, showing the vulnerable boy I have known for six years. "That's not--!" He stood up in a haste, stopping at the last moment.
I nodded happily, glomping another scoop. "Good choice. Lying is not good."
"Look who is talking," he hissed between his teeth, slumping back on the chair, "smiling as if nothing is wrong."
I giggled. "That's what adults do. Anyway, all I have to do is pass that exam," I concluded, focusing on the issue instead of the stakes. The very opposite of Yuuto.
His frown deepened, the smart and composed Kidou Yuuto coming back. "I thought we were talking on the premise that you would fail."
I giggled again. "I already started studying." I winced as the muscles on my back protested because of the uncomfortable position, but didn't shift.
"Alone?" Yuuto asked.
"With someone."
"Whom?"
"Gouenji-kun of course."
The corners of my lips pulled at the astonishment in Yuuto's face and his incoherent reply. I hugged my stomach as I laughed heartedly.
"It--it's not funny!" He stuttered, blushing lightly.
"It is. Of course it is," I said between breaths. "Ouch, ouch, haha." I carefully cleaned the tears at the corners of my eyes.
We continued talking for a while. Our empty cups weren't an excuse to leave. There was so much to talk about: school, the past, the present, even the future. More than the food, it was this friendly chat that lifted my spirit.
We had done a full circle, coming back to the beginning of the conversation to address the elephant in the room. "What if you were in my place?" I asked, building a comparison for Yuuto to understand how dire I saw the situation as, "what if you failed at one thing, and soccer would be taken from you? Prohibited from playing, reading soccer magazines, and watching matches? Just boring homework and boring meetings."
He lifted an eyebrow. "You have a point. I wouldn't want to live like that."
I nodded. "Now, what if you were injured so bad you wouldn't be able to play soccer anymore?"
He frowned. "That would be a horrible scenario. What is it related to?"
"It is how I feel right now," I said casually, "Knowing there is a world I belong to but unable to go back to it."
His face fell like a sad puppy's. "Aw, Yuuto. I didn't mean to make you sad." I pushed the chair closer and stretched my arm, caressing his head between his temple and scalp. "I'll fix this."
He stayed quiet for a few seconds as if brooding. ". . . If there was a way I could get you out of this, I would do it," he said with quiet determination.
I giggled dismissively and stroke his thick dreadlocks in a comforting manner. It was a unique feeling, it's rough texture as if evidence of the tragedy that marked him.
"You aren't a prince. And I am not a princess," I said with a soft voice. "Those things are better left on fairytales and fiction."
His features twisted in a conflicted expression. "Yeah. . . you are too masculine to be a princess," he whispered.
I pulled my hand away in surprise. "What?"
His eyebrows fell. "You are competitive and aggressive. You hide your weakness and want to be the best. I realized this after your parents died. You were different after that."
I hummed in agreement before giggling bitterly. "It is not a compliment when my father still preferred you because you were a boy."
I looked around, taking in the surroundings again, and frowned at the sight of a small puppy, loud and shameless animal, unlike the graceful felines.
Lowering my eyelids as I recalled Yuuto's words, I found a crucial contradiction, a glimmer of hope. "And look where I am because of that," I said with a wry smile.
Rocky Road Ahead | End