The sun rose above Utsubyo—although you could hardly tell with the incessant cloud cover—and with it, Ryusei as well. It was damn annoying to be up so early, especially on a Saturday of all things, but a week packed to the brim with both physical labor and emotional strain had left him dog tired. It certainly didn't help that he, predictably, was met with
more work when he arrived home. Lugging around top soil and tearing weeds all evening sure as shit wasn't going to help him in the boxing ring for all his grandfather's insistence, but it did drain him of what little energy he had left to give, and after some quick takeout from the local Chinese place, he ended up drifting into to a well-earned sleep hours earlier than normal.
Then the interruption to his rest came, in the form of a text from the girl who had occupied much of his time since his arrival in town. It must have come in just shy of midnight, and he barely remembered reading it before rolling back into his blankets and sheets. A quick glance back at the device confirmed it hadn't just been a vague dream; she wanted to meet up at her house at one. So much for relaxing during his day off. It was all the same anyway, as he doubted his grandfather would just let him laze around the house all day. Having a young back around the place must have lit a flame under the old man's ass, and suddenly there was no end to the number of projects to be accomplished around the aging house that had been his home for as long as Ryusei could remember.
Why the hell his grandparents had bought such a big place was beyond him, especially in retirement. That was usually the time for downsizing, for making things more manageable. Instead, the place was half a god damn castle, complete with inner garden and way too many rooms. He admittedly enjoyed it when he was young—to an apartment dweller from the big city, going out to the countryside felt like visiting a palace with how spacious it was. But now that he was partially responsible for its upkeep, he almost missed the crowded little three bedroom back in Kobe. At least he could fit in the bathtub here.
Something he made sure to take advantage of. Between drills at the club, helping out around the house, and all the
walking he needed to do to get anywhere out in the boonies, he was sore, and nothing helped melt away the tension like a good soak. Gramps had undoubtedly gone off to settle whatever affairs he had in town for the morning, so he could spend at least an hour boiling himself like a crab in a much too hot bath. It also gave him a chance to stew in his own thoughts as much as he stewed in the water, contemplating the day to come. He hadn't expected Shiori to take him up on his absentminded little comment so soon. Sure, she had no friends, but she really wanted to spend the weekend with him? They had just spent Friday together, and most of the lunch breaks of the week smoking out in the school parking lot. Then there was club, where they didn't so much interact as simply exist in each other's company.
Hadn't she gotten sick of him? He never made for very good company—even yesterday, he struggled to find anything interesting to say. Maybe she had some vague hope of getting him to pay for her food? Being some chick's meal ticket wasn't exactly on his agenda, especially when they weren't even an item. Of course, that line of thought led to him pondering whether she had gotten the wrong idea with his snarky little comments. They did seem to fluster her pretty thoroughly, which was half the reason he even made them in the first place. But he was the new 'ogre', as he had so kindly heard one of his classmates mutter in the halls. He doubted she'd want to make eyes at someone like him. Hell, half the girls back in Kobe were probably too terrified of him to approach, or reciprocate if he approached. Even his own parents didn't want him anymore; what hope did he have for finding some fairy tale, countryside fling during his exile?
As his thoughts continued to spiral, the joy of the bath was quickly lost. He knew there was a reason he didn't often allow himself to fall into silent contemplation, and it took until he allowed himself to sink into it for him to remember. It always came back to whining, self-deprecating bullshit. It pissed him off! There was shit to be done still, and he had a date to prepare for. Not a date. An outing. He needed to dry off and get ready.
Clothing? He hadn't brought much down with him when he left home. Just a few suitcases. The school had provided uniforms, and he didn't exactly have high hopes for his social life, so there wasn't anything fancy. Aside from his Church clothes, but he wasn't dressing up in his Sunday best for a fucking
tea date. Not that it was a date. Still, he didn't want to look like a total bum when he showed up to her place. The girl had a sharp tongue, and he didn't need her mocking him for his choice of street wear. A nice t-shirt, some good jeans, his only pair of sneakers. The hoodie would need to come too; it was his favorite, big and comfortable and looked damn good on him, if he was so bold as to say.
It was only when he looked in the mirror that he realized he had been pondering for at least a couple minutes, and that only pissed him off more. Why did it matter what she thought? It was her idea to go. She was lucky he was putting aside time for her in the first place. A brief stomp off back to his room saw him dressed in record time. Then, it was back to the mirror. He needed to do
something with his hair. He had let it grow out the last couple of years, to the point where it reached below his jawline when he left it down and damp as it was now. The school admins hated it, but that was half the point, really. There had been a compromise struck wherein if he kept it up during school hours, he could keep it at that length, and so he had kept it tied back for most of the week. That meant Shiori hadn't ever seen it let down. Did he really wanna leave it like that? It looked like a mop, long and silky but inexplicably wild despite that. Maybe she'd be into that? Or maybe she was one of those girls who liked a tidy man.
He spent another five minutes pulling it back and letting it down before irritation overtook him again. Who even fucking cared?! It didn't matter whether or not she liked his hair, it wasn't a fucking date, and if he had to put an iota more thought into how good he looked, he was going to kick his own ass. He eventually decided on a half-measure, pulled up into a ponytail with some messy locks left to spill out here and there. Messy, but just clean enough to look like he put in effort. Between it and the cold, disinterested eyes that stared back at him from the mirror, there was no way she would get his intentions mixed. Plus, he looked damn good. She'd be lucky if it were a date.
A few spritzes of cologne later and he felt better than he had back in the tub. It was a new day, it was still early, and he had plenty of time to leisurely retrace his steps to the Himawari household. He considered breakfast, briefly, but decided against it. They were going to a cafe, weren't they? He could just get something there. Something to help get the taste of the tea out of his mouth if it ended up sucking. He thumbed a few extra bills from the stack when he returned back to his room, figuring it was best to account for additional expenses. Most teens would have felt blessed to have a surplus of weekly cash on hand, but looking at the wad of paper in his hands only reminded him of what he had lost, and he tossed it back onto the windowsill where it had come, tucking a portion of his nest egg into his wallet for the day. He was ready.
Of course, as was so often the case, his plans hadn't gone off without a hitch. By the time he navigated the halls of his new home and got back out into the main room, his grandfather had returned, sitting at the low table in the center with the daily paper.
"Where you headed?" The older gentleman rumbled, not bothering to look up from his paper as he acknowledged his grandson's presence.
"Out," Ryusei answered tersely, although he thought better of the curtness in his voice after a moment,
"Going to have tea with a friend.""A girl friend." The response was quick to strike Ryusei just where it hurt, and he grimaced at the implication.
"I didn't say that.""You didn't have to. I can smell you from over here. It's a girl." The teen didn't justify that with a response. He hadn't put in any more effort getting ready than he would have with any of his boys. The hell was wrong with smelling good? He didn't even care whether or not she liked it—although he hadn't said a word, the whirl of his internal thoughts undoubtedly fulfilled the old man's ambition, and he could practically feel his grandfather grinning like a devil behind that paper.
"Whatever. I'll be back by dinner." There was an indignity in his tone that betrayed the flush growing on his cheeks, and he could only thank the Utsubyo Chronicle for being so engrossing as to hide that from his grandpa's eagle eyes as he stomped his way through the open shuji and into the yard beyond.
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It was a small mercy that Shiori's house was a fair walk from his own. The cool spring afternoon gave him time to cool his head and his cheeks, and by the time he had arrived at the quaint little townhouse she called home, he was back to his usual self, all scowls and glares and bad attitude. Seeing it with the benefit of a full day's sun was interesting enough, as it gave him a better idea of her living situation—his family
was in the business of real estate, after all. He knew it wasn't the house she had grown up in, but her aunt must have been pretty well off to afford rent on this place every month without struggling. Maybe she lived in a bigger city, where money came easier, but that only beggared why she would send her daughter out to this place for a school year. Had she done something wrong to warrant it?
He shook his head. He wasn't there for that ginger. He was there for Shiori, and a quick look at his phone informed him that it was getting dangerously close to one o'clock. So he trudged his way through the open front gates and to the door, rapping his knuckles against it to alert those within to his presence.
"C'mon already. I don't got all day."
