All Right! Fine! I’ll Take You! – Zaimokuza Gaiden – Chapter 8 – A Hotheaded Girl

Yoshiteru is warm, soft, and smells like he uses mint-scented shampoo.

These are three things I’m currently very aware of, because I’m hanging from his neck as I shove my tongue down his throat.

In front of our school.

…

I haven’t thought this through.

I mean, it’s not like I’d been waiting for him in front of his house for far too long, thinking about that teeth-rotting story of his that shows he’s quite a bit more than a chuuni with dreams of writing the next generic harem-trash. Nope. Not at all.

I hadn’t been waiting for him, excited to finally learn something new about him, something deeper than those outrageous lines he keeps spouting off.

My heart didn’t race when I finally saw him waiting at the gate after his sister sent me off.

It’s not like I couldn’t think about anything else but him last night, as I kept rolling on my bed, giving up every half hour or so and turning on the lamp to read his (his!) story again.

Not at all.

Baaaaaaaka.

… My thoughts are trying to kill me, I swear.

I mean, at least I’ve got a good enough excuse for my ear-scorching blush, you know, what with making out with him in public.

He… He just…

The way he just tried not to sob when he heard I lo—liked his story…

Unfair! That’s ridiculously unfair! How am I supposed to keep my lips off his when he keeps showing these reactions, these emotions, these—when he’s so open with… when he’s…

His arms are circling me, pressing my body up and against his, that strength that always surprises me once again making something flutter in my stomach, and my thighs rub together as I imagine him just grabbing me and—

Nope! Not thinking about that in public! The tonsil inspection is far more than I should already be even contemplating, and—

His thick tongue moves, even that part of him strong enough that mine can only follow as I let him do with me whatever he wants, because that’s just—nope. Not whateverhe wants. That way lies butt-groping and not calling me.

Instead, I will let him do whatever I want.

Yes, that sounds much more sane, measured, and responsible.

I mean, it’s not like I keep fantasizing about anything that could get the both of us in far too much trouble. Not at all.

That’s me: Minami Sagami. The level-headed, cool beauty of Sobu High School.

Aaaaaaaahhhhhhh!

… I’m doomed. I’m doomed to teen pregnancy, and my only hope of salvation is a pair of scissors and a moment of sanity.

Or condoms, I guess, but knowing us…

Wait a—us?

Us?!

Aaaaaaaaaahhhhh!

“Wow, Sagami, I guess that date really went better than you expected, uh?” Haruka’s grating voice asks from somewhere to my right.

And somebody terminally stupid may even think the words are innocent enough.

“We must have really nailed her tastes,” Yukko capitalizes on the dig, thrashing my ‘terminally stupid’ theory.

Yoshiteru stiffens against me, and not in the fun way.

I mean—agh, not the time, Minami!

Slowly, deliberately, I let go of his neck and slide once more down the front of his body as his arms slacken their grip on me. Then I wipe my mouth with the back of my sleeve and turn toward the duo of harpies about to meet their doom—I mean, to my erstwhile friends.

“Yes, he and I have far more in common than I would’ve guessed,” I finally say.

Yoshiteru remains uncharacteristically silent.

As much as I would like to claim otherwise, I don’t like it.

“You don’t say!” Haruka’s cheer is, at least in part, sincere. For all the wrong reasons. “Aren’t you glad you did what we told you, then?”

I don’t glare at her. No. I’m too busy thinking, trying to see the best way to approach this. Haruka and Yukko play by the rules, and I know them enough that I should’ve planned something before doing such a public display, but—

We are in the middle of the school gate, and there’s quite a lot of whispering going on.

Don’t look around. If I look around, I’ll see faces, and looks, and expressions, and that’s the last thing I need at the moment.

So just focus on Haruka and Yukko. The duo. They are trying to play off each other, to get a rhythm going, embarrass me enough that I won’t be a contender ever again, because that’s what matters to them, the chance to take my spot, and—

And so what?

They’ve already attacked me in any way they could get away with without being seen as the bad guys by others; what can they actually do that they haven’t done?

“Yes, who would’ve guessed you’d end up falling for the ridiculous fattie—” Yukko starts to say.

Yoshiteru’s shoulders fall.

Oh.

That’s what they can do.

Get me mad enough that I lose control. Yep. Good strategy. I couldn’t have thought of a better one myself.

Well done, Yukko. You may have been smarter than I thought. Not that hard, but still.

Well done.

I’ll be sure to congratulate you after you stop desperately gasping.

“What the Hell—!” Haruka starts.

I turn toward her, my fist still stretched from where I punched Yukko in the solar plexus, said girl staggering back as she tries to regain her breathing.

I did take up aikido for a few months, you know?

Haruka, apparently, doesn’t.

“Hey, sorry about that, it just sounded like your friend was badmouthing my boyfriend. So, you know. Kinda acted on impulse. No hard feelings, right, Haruka?”

‘Your friend,’ I say. And that should be enough. Because I just broke all the rules, yet I’m still using indirect enough language to convey my message. She’s her friend, not mine. We aren’t part of the same group, not anymore.

“Are you crazy, you bitch—” Haruka, apparently, still has to master the art of indirect messages. Such a pity—

What the Hell.

Why am I staring at a broad back clad in a trench coat like in a goddamn anime scene where the hero protects the frail heroine from some kind of beam attack?

He’s even stretching his arms!

That isn’t making my heart beat faster! No way!

“I would ask that you refrain from insulting the Lady Minami,” a gravelly voice that sends tingles down my spine says.

Not! Blushing! Fuck off!

“Are you for real? The ‘Lady Minami?’ Didn’t you see that bitch—”

Yoshiteru takes a step forward, hard enough we all hear the stomp. And Haruka steps back.

“I have seen two people who deserve such moniker on this day. I will stay my tongue if they do the same,” he says, the effortlessly cool line making me drop my mouth open, because this isn’t like—

His hands are trembling.

Ah. Of course.

I feel a soft smile bloom, and I almost laugh at the ridiculous knight in shining ponytail rescuing me from two girls he doesn’t even know how to handle. Because, for all his bluster and over-exaggerated everything, he’s still a social outcast, a shy boy who doesn’t know how to handle the popular crowd and the social maneuvering that—

For a moment, just a bright, painful moment, I see a short-haired girl, slightly taller than I was, cringing in front of another girl. Both of them my friends, but I—

I step around Yoshiteru, the smile fading into something I very rarely wore outside of a dojo.

And I pretend I don’t notice the sigh of relief at my back.

“Haruka, drop it.”

“Or what? Are you gonna hit me too?”

I tilt my head, pondering it for a moment just long enough that she flinches away.

“No. Something like that is far too crude. No, I think I’m going to destroy you.”

There’s a few gasps around me. Maybe because I just let my chuuni show a bit too much.

My cross makes my ear tingle, and I’d like to think it’s echoing the satisfaction of some long-held debt. But maybe it’s just that I’m far too nervous, trying to steady my breath, to not have my knees shake.

Because I’m not, have never been, and unshakeable, brave heroine able to face everything for the sake of her loved ones. No. I am a coward. A despicable one, who would throw away her best friend for the sake of—

Not now. The last thing I need is to break down and cry. Again.

“What are you even talking about, you crazy bi—”

“That’s enough,” a male voice says from behind me. But it’s not Yoshiteru coming to my rescue as the rush of emotions leaves me vulnerable and frail. No, it’s something far worse.

It’s the damn P.E. teacher.

And the broad hand that drops on my shoulder isn’t sending any tingles down my spine.

***

Ms. Hiratsuka sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose.

“This is the last thing I need today of all days…” she mutters.

I feel a bit curious about that, but I’m not stupid enough to bother her by asking if it has anything to do with her favorite student skipping class.

I mean, the boy’s obviously trouble, but he usually tries to at least pretend he isn’t.

… Actually, that’s a lie. He usually doesn’t do anything too bothersome, because he seems to have watched a particularly lazy, cloud-watching ninja and had an epiphany at some point during his formative years. Yes, that seems like a far better description.

“So, Sagami, what the Hell?” Ms. Hiratsuka finally says.

And… well, it’s not like I haven’t been asking myself that very same question since I was dragged away to class, with a very stern, shaved gorilla explaining what would happen if I didn’t come here to speak to the guidance counselor as soon as the bell rang.

Not at all.

Baaaaaaaaka.

… Gods damn it, brain.

“I… They insulted Yoshiteru, and I—”

That’s a very sharp look.

A very sudden, focused, and sharp look.

“Yoshiteru?” Ms. Hiratsuka slowly asks.

… Gods damn it, brain.

“I… we have… maybe we are… dating?”

“You don’t sound too sure about that.”

“Well, he hasn’t asked…” Wait a second, he hasn’t asked! He’s just going along with whatever I do! What the Hell, Yoshiteru?!

“But you would say yes?”

“Blagh?!”

For some reason, Ms. Hiratsuka seems to find my very articulate response hilarious.

At least the sharp look is a bit warmer now.

“Right. Look, I obviously cannot let you go around punching bitches just for being bitches, but—”

“Bitches?”

“… Let’s just pretend I said ‘classmates with abrasive personalities,’ shall we?”

I nod. Ms. Hiratsuka smiles.

… How is this woman single? Is that actually true? Maybe she swings for the other team and is just covering it up? Or covering something up.

Note to self: stop reading steamy teacher-student romance.

“So, what actually happened?” she asks while I debate whether or not she’s actually engaged in any kind of forbidden tryst.

“I… I got carried away and kissed Yo—Zaimokuza. Haruka and Yukko saw and decided to use the chance to knock me down a peg. The… usual maneuvering.”

“That’s… not at all usual, Sagami.”

I huff.

“Yeah. Sure. It isn’t. It’s not like they’ve been going after my spot since before the Sports Festival, or like the two ‘classmates with abrasive personalities’ didn’t set me up on a date with Yoshi—Zaimokuza just to humiliate me. Nope. All of this is just in my head, and we all are a nice group of friends who get along and do heartwarming sketches like fucking Azumanga Daioh. Yup. That’s what my life is like.”

“… I would ask you not to swear when talking with a teacher.”

“Sorry…”

“Right. Moving on. You’re saying the girls who were… difficult during that whole debacle tried to bully you into dating Zaimokuza only for things to work out between you, and when they got insulting with him, you lashed out?”

“That’s… A pretty good summary of my life since past Sunday.”

“I’m guessing it’s a summary that leaves out the juiciest bits?”

“Of course. Who wants spoilers?”

She smiles once again, and I find myself answering. This woman is far too good with her students.

But the silence stretches, and I’m nervous enough that I feel the urge to fill it.

“So, how much trouble am I in?”

She thinks about it, her elbow on the armrest of the black leather chair, her chin on her thumb, her lips hidden by her pointer finger.

… I am stealing that pose. Yoshiteru would flip.

“Write me a composition,” she finally says.

And I laugh.

“What?” she asks, a bit of worry in her tone.

“Nothing, it’s just… Zaimokuza wants to be a writer, and…”

“Ugh. I know. That novel of his—”

“No!” I… All right, she’s looking at me weirdly, I… Tone it down, Minami, just tone it down. “He’s actually good; that novel isn’t… It isn’t his.”

There’s another silence, but I don’t fill it. I’m far too busy clenching the hem of my skirt with nervous fingers, looking at my knees, trying not to—

A steady hand clasps my chin and raises my head, making me look into eyes that are warmer than what a stern teacher should show a student who keeps having these emotional outbursts.

“What’s wrong, Sagami? What’s actually wrong?”

And I can’t help it.

I tell her.

I tell her about abandoning a friend because another told me to. I tell her about being weak, and stupid, and letting myself just follow the lead of others. I tell her about the rules, and knowing them, and seeing they don’t work, not if you want to be happy, to be you, the real you, and about meeting Yoshiteru, and letting him in, and seeing how this ridiculous, clueless man was so much better off than I am, living a life I envied, with true friends, genuine passion, a calling…

I tell her I’m broken.

“We all are,” she tells me.

I just look at her, dabbing my eyes with the tissue she discreetly handed me.

“We all are broken, Sagami. Nobody knows what they are doing, and rules are… a shield, but not a perfect one. You sometimes need to just… be yourself, allow yourself to feel what’s right, what’s best, for you and others. Zaimokuza doesn’t have things figured out, and certainly not better than you. You’re looking at him through the start of your infatuation, but you still haven’t known him long enough to understand in which ways he’s broken. And he is. Just like you. Like me. Like everyone.

“And that’s all right.

“Nobody’s perfect. Nobody has it all figured out, and those who claim they do are lying, to themselves or others. But we all are here together, and we aren’t broken in the same way. So, if you’ve found somebody that has something you admire, something you want, chances are he sees the same in you. And you can learn from each other how to be broken in different, healthier ways. You can be together. You can be… better.”

She shuts up, and her eyes wander across the room, finally laying on the small coffee table between us. And then she smiles.

A soft, gentle smile.

And nobody can tell me that isn’t the smile of a maiden in love.

“But I still…” I feel bad about breaking the moment, but… I feel the urge to. The urge not to watch her like this.

It feels… indecent. An intrusion.

“The past is the past. You can only change the present,” she says, divining the silent words of my plea.

“Don’t you mean the future?”

“No.” She shakes her head, her long hair trailing after the movement. “The future doesn’t exist, Sagami. Only what you do matters. Only how you act now will ever matter. The future is a present yet to come, and when it does, I trust you will know what to do.

“That’s what you are here for, after all: to learn.”

I look at her. At the serene look in her eyes, the elegant tilt of her head, the encouraging smile.

And I wish I could have had recorded those lines, because I know Yoshiteru would be ecstatic at the chance to use them.