Work Text:
“Are you smart?”
The question had caught Izumi so off guard that she remained frozen in place for a moment before answering. “Uhm...Not really, no.”
“That’s bull,” Mitsuru replied. “You look smart, so you gotta be smart.”
Izumi didn’t understand the logic behind the delinquent's words but nodded her head and accepted the compliment anyway.
There was a lot she hadn’t been understanding lately. Namely, how on earth she ended up paired up with Mitsuru Numai on their latest history project. Usually, the students were free to pick whoever they wanted to work with, whether that was in groups or duos, but because of a recent science assignment gone wrong (incidentally, due to Mitsuru’s group of friends), nobody was allowed to choose their own partners anymore. They were now assigned randomly by the teacher. Izumi believed, however, that it was not as random as suggested, as each boy from Mitsuru’s gang was paired with one of the girls in class that didn’t cause any trouble. Ryuhei Sasagawa was working with class representative, Yukie Utsumi who did a nice job of keeping him on track. Hiroshi Kuronaga worked with Noriko Nakagawa, who managed to keep him quiet by sharing cookies with him, and doing most of the work on her own. Sho Tsukioka was paired with Mayumi Tendo, who he seemed to be getting along with just fine, but judging by the whispers and giggles they shared, not much work was actually getting done. Finally, Kazuo Kiriyama was paired with Satomi Noda, both of whom were quietly working without much communication.
Izumi couldn’t figure out why she’d been the one to receive Mitsuru as a partner. Surely there was another girl in class that could handle working with a tough boy better than she could, but she wasn’t one to complain. How hard could it be to finish one simple project on the Meiji period anyway?
“This sucks, man,” Mitsuru grumbled, “The hell should we care about the Meiji period for? Nothing happened!”
Okay, maybe it was harder than Izumi realized.
It was gym class and a free period at that. Free periods were Izumi’s favourite type of gym class (if she had to choose) because the students were to go outside with all of the gym equipment and do whatever they wanted for the entire period. If they were caught doing nothing, they were made to run laps, so typically Izumi would gather around with a few of her not-so athletic girlfriends and throw around a ball.
During this particular instance, it was her, Noriko Nakagawa and Chisato Matsui that stood on the field and tossed a ball between themselves, mostly chatting about nothing and everything. They began to joke around when they tossed it, in a bit more of a silly mood that day than usual. When Chisato threw the ball to Izumi, she had made an unusual face so funny that Izumi doubled over, clutching onto her stomach, and the ball flew right passed her.
“I’ll get it!” Izumi said once she had collected herself a little more.
She ran over in the direction that the ball had rolled off in, a good distance off the field and towards a tree where another student appeared to be sitting by himself. Whoever he was, he was gripping his chest with one hand, and a fistful of his curly hair in the other. Izumi began to walk slowly once she had realized that it was Mitsuru Numai. She hesitated to approach the ball any further, her eyes now locked on the boy, watching the heavy uneven pace of his breath.
She felt herself get cold despite the warmth of the summery air. “Numai?” She asked, before thinking it over, “What’s wrong? Is it a stomach ache? Are you okay?”
Mitsuru seemed caught off guard by the company, though he hadn’t gone as far as to jump in surprise.
“Nah,” Mitsuru answered, “My lungs are burning. My heart's beating weird. Shit, I gotta quit smoking.”
Now that Izumi glanced around, she realized that Mitsuru’s friends were nowhere to be found. Perhaps they were skipping that particular class and he had decided to stay behind. Though it was unusual to think of him not joining in on their antics.
Izumi took a few more steps forward and then kneeled beside Mitsuru, observing how his teeth began to grit with pain.
“Should I get some help?” She asked.
“It’ll pass,” Mitsuru answered plainly, “Just sucks until it does.”
She still considered getting help but ultimately decided against it. Instead, she raised her hand, and for whatever reason, she couldn’t explain, placed it against the left side of his chest. Sure enough, his heart was beating quickly.
For the first time, he looked up at her, his expression weak and almost soft, a look she’d never seen on the delinquent boys face before. She quickly retracted her hand.
“During the Meiji period, the first railway line was built between Tokyo and Yokohama,” Izumi suddenly blurted out.
“Huh?” Mitsuru furrowed his brows.
“F-For our project,” Izumi elaborated, “I thought changing the subject might get your mind off the pain...”
Mitsuru let out a breathy laugh and closed his eyes. “Yeah?”
“It was in 1872, to be more specific.” She went on to explain a little more.
“How come you know all that?”
“I read the research book we were given...”
“Huh.” Mitsuru murmured, “What else’d it say?”
“Oh, lots of stuff,” Izumi began, and then she went on to explain more that she’d learned in her research. It was neither particularly interesting nor useful, but Mitsuru listened as if it were.
After a few moments of this, his expression had softened, and his breathing was down to a regular pace.
“Has it passed..?” Izumi asked.
“Yeah, I think so,” Mitsuru answered, a smirk present on his face, “I need a cig.”
Without meaning to, Izumi wore an expression that was such a strong mix of confusion and worry, that Mitsuru easily read it and let out a laugh, “I’m kidding. I’m trying to quit. It fucks you up bad, makes you weak. Don’t ever smoke, Kanai.”
The thought had never even occurred to her. “I won’t,” she replied.
“Good,” Mitsuru said, opening his eyes, “Oh look what assholes finally decide to show up?”
As he said this, Izumi didn’t need to turn around and look to know what he meant. His gang was back. She felt herself freeze up briefly before she jumped to her feet, grabbed the ball she had originally come over for, and hurry back to her increasingly concerned group of friends. As she walked she could overhear the boys tease Mitsuru about his company, to which he replied, “Oh, fuck off. At least somebody cared.”
The next time Izumi ran into Mitsuru was later that same day, this time in music class. They’d been lucky enough to get another easy class that day, having been told only to watch an educational video for the entire period. As usual, for class 3-B, this meant that it was an open period where they could do whatever they wanted, sit wherever they wanted, and even leave if they wanted. The music teacher was apathetic when it came to free periods, his tired expression indicating that the previous classes had put him through enough already that morning and he’d given up.
Izumi and the girls would begin these music periods honestly, trying to politely watch the video as the teacher intended. But even the best intentions only lasted so long before boredom got the best of them and they formed their chairs in a circle, talking amongst themselves.
Mitsuru’s group of friends had surprisingly stuck around, half of them sitting at the windowsill sneaking puffs of cigarettes. When offered one, Mitsuru shook his head and then grumbled when his friends teased him for it. Before Izumi could stop herself, she had stood up and walked to his group. She could hear Chisato whisper in a panic, “What are you doing?!”
She made a beeline to Mitsuru, not paying any mind to his friends despite the fact that her heart was now beating so heavily in her chest that she didn’t know what she was doing or why.
“How...” Izumi began, her throat suddenly warm and dry. She forced herself to finish the rest of the sentence to avoid total embarrassment, “How are you feeling?”
“Uh, not-so-good, I guess,” Mitsuru mumbled in reply, eyes fixated on Izumi curiously.
Again, Izumi’s body moved on its own as she pulled back the sleeve of her uniform, and placed her bare wrist against Mitsuru’s forehead.
What are you doing?! a voice inside her cried, This is way too much!
Mitsuru looked just as stunned as she did, the warmth of his skin steadily increasing the longer she felt for his temperature.
“Warm,” Izumi replied as she pulled away, mentally cursing herself for being so awkward, “You might have a fever...”
“Yeah?” Mitsuru asked, still looking just as stunned as before, “Thanks.”
Izumi didn’t know what to say. Suddenly, the embarrassment of her actions had caught up with her and she felt just about ready to explode. She quickly rushed back to her group of friends, where she began to comfort Chisato, who had looked just about ready to pass out on her behalf.
The day had come to an end, and what an unusual day it had been at that. Izumi had bid adieu to her friends who ran off to their various clubs or on their different directions home, and stood at her shoe locker alone, changing out of her indoor pair into her outdoor pair.
When she had shut the locker and turned around, she had nearly screamed aloud when she was suddenly greeted by Mitsuru who had been standing there for God only knows how long.
“Sorry,” He was quick to say, realizing he had spooked her.
“It’s okay,” Izumi laughed awkwardly, subtly catching her breath. She wanted to ask what was up but suddenly the strange bout of confidence she had had earlier was gone.
Luckily, Mitsuru cut straight to the point, “So my face felt hot or something?”
Izumi nodded her head, “You might be getting a cold or something,” she explained, “When you feel somebody’s forehead and it’s hot, it usually means-“
She had lifted her wrist to demonstrate again, now having to stand on the tips of her toes to reach Mitsuru's forehead. Before she could finish explaining, he had blocked her hand with his and lowered it a bit, his fingers lingering on her palm. Izumi froze in place.
“Your hands are pretty small, huh?” He asked, amused.
Izumi didn't know how to respond. Heat began to burn beneath her skin, crawling all the way to her ears where she blushed most deeply.
"I...Is that so..?" Izumi finally managed to respond, her voice wavering with each word.
"Yeah," Mitsuru responded casually, lowering his hand slowly. Only then did he take notice of the look on Izumi's face, his eyebrows rising in surprise. He lifted his own hand again, moving the bangs off of Izumi's forehead as he pressed his wrist on her forehead. "Now you're feeling all warm too. Shit, I hope I didn't infect you with something."
That's not it! Izumi wanted to protest, but maybe it was best if she said nothing at all. Somehow the idea of faking a cold was less embarrassing than just admitting that she was blushing because she'd never been hand-in-hand with a boy before.
"It's fine!" Izumi finally managed to say.
Mitsuru sort of laughed at that, his hand lowering to his side. "You sure?"
Izumi nodded her head. "But I should probably go now," she said, and quickly tried to think of an excuse (as if the end of the school day was somehow not enough), "I don't want my parents to think I got lost."
That made Mitsuru give a full-on laugh. "Alright. Yeah, see ya."
Izumi turned to run off but stopped herself before she could. She twirled her head back to utter one last phrase first.
"Please be careful on your walk home!"
With that, she hurried off, down the hallway and towards the front entrance and slowed only when she assumed that Mitsuru must have long gone in his own direction.
To her surprise, he called out to her just as her hands reached out to open the door.
“Hey, Kanai,” Mitsuru's voice boomed from a distance, causing her to look back. Luckily, nobody else was around. “The industrial revolution occurred during the Meiji Era, right?”
Izumi smiled softly and nodded her head.
“Never cared much about history,” Mitsuru confessed, “But for some reason, these Meiji era facts are really stickin' in my mind.”
At that, Izumi laughed softly and nodded one more time, now more firmly. She watched as he walked off in the other direction, likely to find his friends wherever they may be. She didn't stop watching until he was out of sight, and only then did she turn around and leave the school, finding herself oddly excited at the thought of completing that history project all the way home.