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It was Nene’s most hated period of the day: PE. And to make matters worse, she found herself in the middle of a war, between two fiery forces. Literally.
“Kusanagi-san, you’d much rather be on my team, right?” said An with a fierce pull. She had clearly forgotten the class had gathered to play dodgeball, not tug-the-rope.
“Oi, her brains would go to waste on YOUR team. Kusanagi, why don’t you join mine instead?” Akito, on the opposing end. His look, relaxed, betrayed none of the fact that his grip on Nene’s arm was firm.
“C-can I be on no team..?” was Nene’s shaky reply, the spirit practically trailing out of her mouth. Her exhaustion, thankfully, was noticed by her fellow classmates in 2-A, who scrambled to admonish Akito and An. Words were flung. Retorts were fired. Yet both Akito and An consented (with only a few grumbles apiece) to settle things with a flip of a coin.
The coin went flying to the ceiling, where a skylight was. The silver glowed as though made of sun. Yet the metal soon regained its dull tint upon falling, displaying none of the former shine, and the clear face of Heads.
“ Yes .”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO~”
An was distraught. Akito grinned, tossing Nene a headband hailing from Team Blue. “Welcome aboard to the superior team.”
Nene felt as though she was committing a great sin as she drifted away from the betrayed girl, who was now plotting her revenge.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Game…START!”
A mere ten seconds had passed after the shrill shriek of the PE teacher’s whistle, when An already knocked a blue headband wearer out of the game.
I mean to WIN!
Controlling the ball came second nature to An, after countless hours spent helping the basketball club. And as she fluidly dodged incoming fire, rounding around to deliver devastating counter-attacks, she could calmly assert that yes, those hours had not been wasted.
I’ll win…and then Akito will have no choice but to admit that I’m better!
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And here we have Akito, blue headband wavering in the air as he narrowly dodged An’s onslaught. What the hell is she, a pitcher machine?
Upon realizing he and An were on opposing teams, his quest to gather the smartest, fastest, and strongest members of the class began in earnest. And even though he had been satisfied, the amount of red headbands left on the court told him one thing: he was screwed.
“Not if I can help it.” Gritting his teeth, he glanced to the right as a dodgeball nearly nicked his ear. There Nene was, ducking underneath the flurry of balls. Akito couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous of short people at that moment.
He watched in rapture (well, for as long as one can afford when fire is coming from all sides) as the small show director managed to weakly direct her throws to the legs of oblivious players, taking down a fair sum.
…until a stray ball hobbled, hesitated, and finally, hit Nene’s knee.
The girl, now out of the game, and the boy, the only one left on the court who carried blue in his heart and on his head, traced the path of the ball. And there An stood, a hand outstretched.
Her expression was one of determination, triumph, and slight regret. “Sorry, Kusanagi-san. But it seems like this is it for all of you in blue!”
Akito was surprised to see only two members of her entourage left: Nene must have taken down quite a few players. As he hardened his gaze for the battle ahead, he found himself even more glad he had fought for her presence.
For it was now gone, leaving only An and Akito, and two un-named extras, to stare one another down, all while fighting the urge to trash talk.
Yet the sheer tension in the room wouldn’t allow it: one of said extras took a shot at the opposition, sure of his success. Until Akito cleanly snatched the ball.
“That’s one out. And now,” as quickly as he had procured the ball did it go flying back, now at An’s final teammate.
He yawned. “None left. An even match, just as we both like it, huh?”
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An could only grin at Akito’s cocky words, in spite of the nervous sweat rolling off her face.
A ball was thrown with little indication from the attacker. Akito dodged cleanly out of the way, fingers fumbling as he attempted to grab the ball, only to end in failure. Onlookers watched with bated breath. For this repeated, until all but one ball was left in easy reaching distance for both.
“This- is- where- your luck ENDS!” An wheezed. Yet she was far from spent. She spun and, gathering each ounce of her energy into her arm, flung the ball.
Her body swayed, and she recognized the vague sensation of herself falling, and her ankle throbbing, as she watched Akito’s face contour in surprise, before getting smacked with the ball.
YES! An, taking a now rapid descent to the ground, had little time to cheer. And it’s a good thing she didn’t, as the last voice she heard before her head hit the ground was the teacher, not long before, detailing the rules.
“Headshots are STRICTLY unallowed. I don’t want any of you having to go to the nurse, as she’s busy today. Instant elimination from the attacker. ”
The approaching void silenced the scream rising in An’s throat, and her body succumbed to the black surrounding her.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Despite his desire to leave, Akito had to confess: the calm breeze flitting into the Nurse Office was extremely relaxing. He watched the students trailing out the front gate from the window to his side. I’ll leave as soon as the nurse gives me whatever medicine I apparently need.
The thrumming in Akito’s head had lost its rhythmic quality over time, now a dull ache if anything. Without a doubt, the pain was lessened with the assurance that, although by technicality, Team Blue had secured victory. Take that, An!
As if sensing the pride radiating off of him, and wishing to halt it, the curtains hiding one of the many beds in the room stirred. And out popped the second place prize winner, hair sticking up in roughly seven different places.
An stared dumbly at the boy, seated fairly nearby, and with a large bump protruding out of his forehead.
At first, her eyes squinted in confusion. Then, they went down to her clothes and, after being quelled of the fear of not being decent, resumed their staring at Akito. Her first noise was a laugh, croaky from sleep. Then, it was a yelp of pain, upon trying to get up. “What the heck? My ankle feels like it’s being ripped open…”
“Yeah, ‘cuz you became a human spinny top for a second back there.” Akito had drawn himself closer to point a finger at the bandage around An’s ankle. "And good morning, sleeping beauty."
“Oh~ riiiight. Also, just who are you calling 'sleeping beauty'?!" Though betraying little emotion aside from irritation, An's hands went to her hair, rapidly smoothing down the odd ends. "Oh crap, I hit you in the face, didn’t I -” Her face fell as Akito confirmed the event with a brisk nod. “Sorry...Gotta say, I’m surprised I left that big a bump on your skull.”
Akito snorted. “What, you think I have a thick head?”
“No~ of course not!” An sang, grinning despite her situation. Then, she frowned, wincing as she drew her leg back. “I dunno what’s worse…the tightness of the bandage, or the sprain...” Just like a flash of lighting, the pained expression faded away, and she flung herself down onto the pillows again.
Yet Akito had caught the flash of pain. Turning himself away, he scanned the room to find the medical supplies, and rose. “Gimme a second.”
Finding a roll of bandages was easy enough; the hard part was what followed. Plopping himself back onto the stool near An’s bed, he stretched out a generous amount of bandage. The paper snapped, and formerly obscured by the scroll of bandage was An, eyeing him with confusion.
He beckoned to her leg, hidden beneath the covers. “Here. I’ll retie it.” The pause that followed prickled his skin. “Since it’s half of my fault you did that weird move.”
Eyes transfixed on the scuffed floor panelling, he was unable to see An’s expression. And so, his response came in the form of An’s foot prodding him gently in the leg.
“Well…sure. Thanks.” The unusually soft response from An had Akito even less inclined to look up.
He focused his eyes on the bandage around her ankle, carefully peeling the paper off. Not without some difficulty, however, and the attempt left him sweating, partly in exasperation, and the other in embarrassment. But if persistence pays, well, Akito would be rich.
The colour of An’s ankle was red with inflammation, and contained a slight imprint, likely from the bandage Akito had peeled away. He did everything to prevent his fingers from brushing against her skin as he carefully wound the new bandage over the wound, half cursing himself for offering, and the other half recognizing that An was in more pain than she let on.
Phew. Akito retreated from his handiwork. Throughout the entire process, An had been silent, save an exhale when the bandage was stripped off. The courage he had gathered for the past few minutes gave him the strength to glance at An’s countenance.
The glance must have caught her off guard, as she flung her arms over her face to cover the expression Akito barely saw. With haste, the two swept their heads away from one another, to hide their faces, dyed red.
After a moment’s respite, An’s voice sounded again, notably stilted. “Woah, this is way better!” She once again nudged Akito with the same foot, the impact even more gentle than before. “Thanks, Akito.”
“Don’t mention it. Like, really don’t.” He was about to trudge back to his chair when a finger reached out, snagging on his school-issued jersey.
Turning around, he faced An, one arm outstretched, and the other holding some kind of paper. Though he hadn’t noticed before, there was a small pack of goods near An’s bedside, likely which the nurse dropped off. Most notably was a pack of sticker cold compresses, the box full, minus one absence.
The ginger, confused, gave the scheming girl his attention again. She gestured for him to come closer, waving the absent sticker. “Stick out your head, will you? I’ll put this on that horrible bump of yours.”
A blink. “I can just do it myself, ya know?”
“Then why haven’t you? Don’t tell me you were thinking ‘I’ll bear the pain like a man’ or something cringey like that…”
“Of course not. It aint that painful, anyways.”
“Oh please…don’t downplay my strength, I KNOW that must’ve hurt. Because it made a really satisfying SMACK noise.”
“Hey…do you actually want to heal me, or brag, at this point?”
“I WOULD be doing both, but unless you move your legs over here, this cold compress is going nowhere!”
He sighed and said nothing more, merely trudging to her in answer. He crouched down before An’s bedside, lifting his head down automatically.
But it was in avail. The warm touch of An fingers gave Akito a shock as, in one quick motion, An lifted Akito’s head.
Huh? What - Huh - The winner of the day’s duel directed the last bit of his calmness into maintaining what he hoped was a calm facial expression. And what a challenge that proved to be, for An’s perfectly composed look only made him more anxious.
"Hold still for a sec." The girl mumbled around the edge of the compress, held down by her teeth. Letting go of his coppery hair to grab the compress, she smoothed the sticker over Akito’s head. The brisk wave of cold that followed was almost enough to rid him of the heat he felt. Almost. His hand went up to the compress, noting how the throbbing had subsided, satiated by the blast of cold.
“But wait!” An dug inside her pockets, tossing out a few mint candies and hairbands, before finally procuring a midnight black pen. Eyes squinted and tongue out, she was the picture of concentration as she wrote atop the paper. After a great deal of deliberation, she drew the pen back, placed on the cap, and smiled as they clicked together. “There, all done!”
Akito could share little of An’s relief with his heart hammering so loudly. Yet between the cold compress and the cheery smile An shot at him, he had to (reluctantly) commend the latter’s healing properties, and forget his clumsy feelings. "Well, it does feel better. A little." An's glare at the word had him chuckling. "Ok, ok. A lot."
The two drew away as Akito thanked his bedridden nurse. Fortunate timing indeed, as the actual school nurse appeared just as Akito took up his people-watching position.
“Oh? Looks like you’re awake, Shiraishi-chan. Feel any better?” The nurse bustled over to the girl, scanning her features for any clear discomfort. Upon seeing little, she drew down the blankets to check the ankle of her patient. Her lips pursed slightly. “Hm…did you retie it? This is one good job.”
She was unable to catch any special meaning behind An’s beaming smile, and so moved on. “We’ll give you a crutch for today, but you should be walking normally with a few weeks of rest. That means no more fiery battles with Shinonome-kun until then!”
With that, she finally spared the boy a glance. A glance which quickly became a stare as she read the words on his compress.
What did An do now? Akito shifted in his seat. “Is there something amiss with the compress?”
And at Akito’s polite tone, so oblivious to the words on his forehead, An finally erupted in laughter. The nurse hushed the girl all while stifling her own giggles, and staring at Akito's forehead.
Ok. Where the heck is a mirror? He was in the middle of rising from his chair when the nurse handed him what seemed to be some medication.
“Take- that- for the swelling…you should be completely fine, but you should probably change the comp-”
The word rekindled the joke, and the nurse could only sigh before laughing again, giving herself up to the humour behind a joke Akito was not involved in. He would soon figure out it was the opposite: he WAS the joke.
An, exhausted from her outbreak of mirth, was to stay for a bit longer in the office, until the swelling ceased enough for her to move. Akito bid the little mischief-maker a quick farewell, deciding to brag to her about his win when she was well enough to fight back.
The halls were quiet, shadows being all Akito had for company. He moved past a trophy cabinet, gazing inside, thinking about the day’s competition.
Wait.
The cabinet reflected his face back well. And with his face, the compress across his forehead.
WHAT IS THIS.
The compress, decorated with a rudimentary sketch of an adorably terrifying dog, a sun with a smile, and, the chief offense, a plethora of hearts. All encircling what seemed to be the words ‘Get well soon!!!’
No. Akito would not get well soon. In fact, he felt warmer and more antsy than ever as he briskly moved aside and down the endless hall. What the HELL is wrong with her? An…when I catch you…
Despite such violent embarrassment, Akito couldn’t bring himself to tear the compress off. Not while he still remembered the kind fingers that had done the placing.
…hah. Damn it.
And so Akito went forlornly down the hall. The drum of his heart and his quickened footsteps were all the noise amidst him as he wondered: Who really won today, anyways?
- End