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On one lazy school day, Keigo tailed Rumi during lunch period. His bold, red wings drooped behind him, heavy with heat and humidity. Heavy enough to drop to the pavement and sleep. Were it not for the Cicadas that rattled from tree trunk to tree trunk, he would have done it.
Rumi had already claimed him for the afternoon. Her strong and petite back protected him from any fanatics that came his way.
“You look like you’re about to die.”
“Rumi-sempai” took care of everyone - even her most obnoxious fans. Girls called her onee-san. She’d share an umbrella with anyone on a rainy day. The nicknames she spouted were more for her entertainment than any degradation.
Did she realize how iconic she was? A renowned judo fighter that could inspire a fleet of students to follow in her rabbit trail. She’d guide them as far as they wanted to go.
All of this - and it was nothing like how she took care of Keigo. Buying his favorite coffee drink or bread, walking him home, and sticking by him during lunch period became a daily routine. She kept people talking during her visits to his class.
Some mornings, she straightened his tie for all to see.
With him, she was never afraid to get close. So close. Close enough to weaponize the softest parts of her body as she pushed into him. All of this to probe at his unflappable disposition.
That was the only explanation. In contrast to the rest of the school, it was Keigo that knew Rumi to notice more than she let on. She had the reflexes to catch stares and evade literal grasps for her attention from aggressive predators.
That was if Keigo didn’t catch them first. She hated creeps - hated granting them the satisfaction of her attention.
After wandering around, Rumi stopped at a water trough with faucets lined up to drink from. Just for him. And, so he stopped, too.
Cranking on the water, she pressed a thumb to the opening and sprayed Keigo in the face.
"Oi!" he shouted, clear, direct, and hostile. The most awake he felt that day. His heart loud and upfront about the sudden shock of cold water.
Rumi cackled in such a cartoonishly villainous fashion. "Did I scawe you, baby bird?" she teased before motioning for him to drink.
Fear wasn't the word. That's not to say he expected his trusted ally to turn on him. "I'm sure I'll find it in myself to forgive you one day, buns," he grinned, stepping up to the plate to drink from the fountain.
"The heat's so bad that your fangirls must have melted in their own wetness, right? I guess nobody has the balls to brave the outdoors like we do," she chuckled. "But they know better than to throw themselves at you when I'm around."
Curiously, she never acknowledged her fangirls as fangirls. She either wrote them off as his fans or as her friends.
He thought this as he sipped from the fountain at her hip.
Water tasted especially sweet on sweltering days like those. Listening to her brassy rants on wet fangirls and hot weather.
Despite her foul language and rough tones, he always considered Rumi's purity - in a raw way. Uncut, unadulterated, yet without ill intent.
"Jeez, you're so boring when you're tired. Didn't you sleep last night?" she asked with a gloved hand at her hip. Abruptly, she cut the water off.
"Didn't you message me after midnight about a monkey riding a motorcycle?"
"Didn't you message me back with a compilation video of Endeavor's June highlights?”
"Didn't you like the video?"
"It was alright. I'm gonna kick his ass in the billboards one day."
"Yeah right. I'd like to see you tr-"
Rumi hooked her arm around to grip the back of his neck. "I'd like to see you finish that sentence when I have you by the balls."
"You're grabbing the wrong spot."
"Baby bird is just cranky, so consider us even," she declared, releasing him from her grip.
Even? No. For them to be even would mean Keigo spraying her with water. Soaking her white shirt as it would cling to her skin and reveal everything from waist up. The heat already caused her buttoned down uniform to fit like body paint. Imagine the revelation water could bring to her sculpted physique.
In contrast to Rumi’s derelict male fans, Keigo was far from a pervert, yet the heat must have cracked parts of his chaste persona. Invasive, bestial thoughts seeped through.
She faded back adroitly like they were in a battle. Twirling along with her navy blue skirt and long hair, she cut around the water trough's wall. Curiously, she peaked back to see if he followed.
He did. He always followed Rumi everywhere. And she expected that of him.
She dropped to sit in grass darkened by the shade of the trees' canopy above. Her back aligned to the trunk of a tree as she folded her legs beneath her. Like a lady raised for royalty.
No bento? No bread?
Scratching the back of his head, Keigo asked, "Aren't you hungry?"
"Aren't you tired?" asked Rumi. Stretching her arms to the sky, she opened her mouth wide for a yawn.
It took every muscle in his neck to fight back yawning, too.
When he neared her a few paces north, she immediately caught him by the wrist and tugged him towards her. “Jeez, buns. I’m too hot for you to eat right now if that’s what you’re thinking," he snorted.
Instead of laughing or denying it, her hooded eyes gazed up at him. "Well, if you're ready and willing, I might just have to burn my tongue." A glint of intention flashed across her profile.
Such a look chilled his hot skin.
This time he resisted her. Skipping a beat, he struggled to find the wit for a response.
“I’m kidding, bird brain! You know that I’m vegetarian.” She twisted his arm just enough to check the time on his wristwatch. "Come on, sit. We're losing time."
Keigo forced out a heavy sigh and dropped down next to her like a child forced to sit near their sitter. Crossing his legs, his knee poked into her side.
Rumi gently fingered the gaps of his feathers from the spine outwards. Tracing up his back, she gently pushed her fingers into wild hair.
Closing his eyes, he leaned into her touch.
Her dexterous fingers detangled his locks in such a satisfying way that he could pur.
A hundred tons of restraint reeled in the horsepower of his thoughts. He sighed to stifle a humiliating moan in his throat.
Her touches stroked him from the crown, down his jaw, and to his mild, inoffensive stubble.
Something soft pushed up against his shoulder. And, he was lucky it was just her cheek this time. But those pesky, intrusive thoughts imagined a different picture.
He couldn't enjoy this too much. This was just part of her humor. Prying and poking at him just to get a rise.
And she often got what she wanted.
It didn't take much to raise him. To please him.
"Keigo?" she softly called him down to earth.
Finally, he opened his eyes to see her white, gloved hand pointing down to her skirted legs.
Sunlight speckled her thighs and brought shine to her copper-colored skin.
He cleared his throat. "Your legs? What about them?"
But that was dirty. She wasn't supposed to hit below the belt like that.
"Relax. Why don't you lay your head here?"
"Huh?" Keigo jumped, finally giving volume to his voice. How was he supposed to relax with such an invitation?
Poking out her tongue, Rumi sighed, "Jeez. It's what a good senpai would do, right?"
She spoke at a rhythm slower than his heart rate.
Lulling him like a siren.
"You know I sleep on my side and stomach, right?" he confirmed, pointing back to his wings with a thumb.
She laughed, waving it off and Fingering at his wings again. "Jeez, you think too much. That's whatever. Go ahead. I don't give a shit. It's just you. It's not like you'd do anything."
Just him, huh? Was that a threat or a challenge?
By the pervasive light in her low, slanted stare, her eyes devoured him by the second. It was safe to assume the latter.
Keigo turned to lay his head to her legs as she guided him to her.
His muscles melted against her. Her fleshy yet firm thighs contoured to his body just enough to support him. They possessed the delicate balance of firm muscle and fruity flesh that could make any man salivate. His body revelled in the relaxation of their touch.
Touch him more. Don't stop. Please. His thoughts begged him to speak. His insatiable body craved more of her touch.
She only stirred a little to adjust her legs and skirt. But her breath remained steady and even unlike his, which rigidly stuck to a rhythm. Simulating the breath of a sane man.
"Oi, relax," she said with a soft, innocuous chuckle.
Without being able to see past her pair of breasts, he would almost guess she was smiling down at him instead of her usual smirk.
Even still, he anticipated her taunting touches.
Any minute.
Hopefully.
Please.
"I can still hear you over thinking."
"I'm not," he lied.
"It's okay," assured Rumi.
Finally, her fingers kneaded the "Heaven's Gate" of his ear. Stroking his wings until they dropped to the grass.
His eyes rolled back as he shut them close. A rush lit his body up. Energy flowed through her to him like static electricity. Their colors turned inward.
He frowned at the sensational euphoria that erupted up his body. If she only knew, he'd never hear the end of it.
"I wonder," she sang, tracing up the branches of his wings. "What could be on your mind?"
He turned his cheek and huffed out against her to expel any thoughts holding him from sleep. His broken, hot breath collapsed against her body.
At an instant, her abs and thighs suddenly flexed in such a gratifying way. It placated his ego.
So she did react to something at least.
Even if it were a reflex, he relished the thought that he had some effect on her. Maybe she didn't always have the upper hand.
With that, he drifted further and further away. Falling into her lap, he could hear himself slowly float into slumber.
…
Just as quickly as he fell, he woke up face down into darkness.
But what darkness? He could still feel the heat of the sun on his back.
Still, the earthly, neutral aromas of hot sweat brought him to consciousness. Heavy and groggy, he adjusted to find himself wedged into the valley of her thighs.
Immediately, he pulled away and adjusted her skirt. How the hell did he end up in that heavenly territory?
Damn. Surely she caught that.
But as he leered up at her to check the reaction, he found her eyes closed as she snorted and snored like a bear.
Drool bubbled at the corner of her gaping mouth. Her long ears slumped to the sides of her head as they twitched with each breath.
How embarrassing. He couldn't decide if she looked cute or ridiculous.
He wouldn't decide that.
Instead he rolled his eyes at himself and carefully returned to nestle into her lap. Class could wait. He could make time for this.
At reflex, she cradled the back of his head and pulled him closer.
His temperature jumped across his cheeks, but she would never know.