Kame Bang repost~ hajime/ryu pt.1

[scorch66]

Title: Kindaichi Case File #223: The Unfurling Dragon
Artist: shiharipanda
Pairing: Kindaichi Hajime / Odagiri Ryu
Genre: Comedy, Romance (erm, Hajime's version of it >.>)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 22K (ahahahaha.. ha..)
A/N: This fic was originally written for the Kame Big Bang challenge 2013 held over at capslock_turtle. Lots of love for my brilliant artist shiharipanda who gifted this fic with an absolutely beautiful piece as well as an adorable rectangle!Ryu bonus. ♥♥ Note: I borrowed characters from both the Kindaichi Shōnen no Jikenbo and Gokusen series, and as a refresher, Takane was played by Nakamaru and Takashi by Koki in the 2005 Kindaichi drama special. ;D

Summary: Hajime falls in love at first sight with a ginger haired beauty whose cheekbones could cut glass. Ryu remains impassive. Let the wooing begin!


When Kurumi stretches her arms back to tie her hair up, the skin of her neck soft and creamy and the collar of her school blouse widening to expose the edge of her lacy, baby pink bra strap, Hajime thinks he has finally found the one. Her pleated skirt has been hemmed to a few inches above her knees and the fabric bounces as they walk, making their way towards the photo booth to capture their first date in memory.

"Nee~ nee~ where do you live?" he asks, his hand skittering back to his side when he concludes that it's too early for contact just yet.

"Shitaguchi," Kurumi chirps and Hajime bounces on his heels. Kurumi really is the one.

"I live only a minute away! Isn't that amazing?"

Kurumi nods her head, eyelashes fluttering to the skip of his pulse. "Hajime-chan should drop by some time."

Hajime is about to reply that he'll be there in a heartbeat whenever she calls, when a heavy hand drops onto his shoulder and squeezes menacingly. Kurumi's eyes widen and Hajime's stomach sinks in dread. He doesn't have to look back at the intruder to know who it is; this situation has played out once too many times before and unfortunately, switching around his dating spots doesn’t seem to be working.

"Of-officer Kengochi! What a sur-how nice to see you again!" he says with a strained smile, trying to both reassure Kurumi and yank his shoulder from Kengochi's grip with little success. "I'd love to stay and chat but my friend and I are heading to school and we can't afford to be tardy this late into the semester, can we? We'll have to catch up another time. Let's go, Kurumi-"

An attempt forward has him stumbling back like a tightly coiled spring and a grumbling whine builds up in his throat as he hears Kurumi make an excuse about monthly female problems before she rushes off. His eyes remain fixed on the sway of her skirt until she finally disappears around the corner, a warble of sorrow tripping from his lips as he mourns the vision of delectable thighs.

"You just got in the way of destiny, old man," Hajime whines and his shoulder is finally released. "If I remain single for the rest of my life, you're taking responsibility."

"Sorry, not into kiddos who can't speak proper Japanese," Kengochi says, waving his prissy hand fan the way he always does whenever he's managed to successfully douse Hajime's love life. "Why aren't you at school?"

"A certain officer got in my way," Hajime bites back and is promptly swatted over the head with a paper fan. "Hey, this is abuse!"

He says it loud enough that a few people nearby pause to send a glance over in concern.

Sweat begins to build along Kengochi's forehead and Hajime swallows his smirk and schools his expression into one resembling a kicked puppy. It works like a charm.

"N-no, you don't understand! This boy is a delinquent, a shame upon his grandfather!" Kengochi tries to explain to a woman walking over with a firm frown in place. Hajime takes that as his cue to run like hell.

He manages to run down a block or so before he tries to cut through an alley and collides into something big and black. Or someone big in black, he re-evaluates once his head has stopped spinning. The someone scowls at him menacingly, his head shaved and muscles flaunted through torn sleeves. Distantly, Hajime wonders how the baldie manages to stand under the weight of what seems to be a dozen pounds of artificial gold that hang around his neck and steal what little light there is between the brick walls.

"Don't you have something to say, punk?" Baldie spits out when Hajime is standing once more.

"I guess it's too late to say 'watch out'?" Hajime tries and gulps when Baldie steps closer. The span of his shoulders could easily double Hajime's own. "I mean-I'm sorry! Very, very sorry. A lowly being like me to touch an... esteemed... being such as yourself, it's unheard of! But I have friends waiting for me so I'll stop being a nuisance and head on my way-"

An arm as solid as a metal bar catches his chest as he tries to maneuver to the alley's exit.

"Hold on a second, smartass," Baldie snarls, "ever heard of compensation?"

Hajime is in fact surprised that Baldie even knows the word. He'd have thought it'd be one too many syllables.

Hajime musters a regretful smile. "Of course I have! It's a very useful concept, keeps the world running and everything... It's just too bad I didn't bring my lunch money with me today. Left it on my nightstand along with my homework, can you believe it-"

He doesn't see the fist coming.

~*~

Pain is darkness and darkness shrouds his senses in a fog so thick he feels as though his body is floating along its wisps, growing steadily numb. Perhaps this is it; the end. He's arrived at the gateway to the afterlife and now maybe he can finally meet Kindaichi Kosuke face to face, witness the disappointment in his ghostly wrinkles as he looks down at the failure that is his grandson; his grandson who in a few minutes from now will probably be found dead in some alley by a stray cat or diseased rodent.

He's too young to die, he can't help but think. He never even had the opportunity to learn if Kurumi's lacy bra matched her underwear. He thinks it would, because Kurumi was cute like that. Not that he'll ever have the chance to find out for certain. Vengefully, he hopes Baldie is haunted by Kengochi for the rest of his life.

He's glad no one will ever find out that he's spending the last brief moments of his life feeling sorry for himself but it's hard not to when he's in so much PAIN he could scream and-he can feel, he suddenly realises.

If he can feel then... he must be alive.

Still. Somehow.

He feels his body being jostled and when he musters the last of his energy to pry his eyelids open, he discovers that it's not the fog which carries his body.

It's an auburn-haired angel.

~*~

When the darkness fades at last, Hajime blinks his eyes open slowly, expecting to see his guardian angel hovering above him, a lifelong commitment ready to fall from his chapped lips. What he sees instead is a bare cement ceiling followed by the sensation of a thin mattress supporting his back. Nothing is familiar.

He flings forward, sitting up to see Kengochi's face behind a row of bars.

"Wait, why am I in a cell?"

"There was no other place to put you. This isn't a hotel, you know," Kengochi grumbles, pausing when Hajime shuts his eyes to ward away the dizziness; he had gotten up too suddenly. "And for that matter, this isn't a hospital either. It's not serious but you've got a pretty nice bruise blooming on your cheek. Mind telling me what kind of trouble you got yourself into this time, brat? You're supposed to be smarter than this."

"Yeah, yeah," Hajime huffs. He did not return from near death to sit in a jail cell and have Kengochi talk down to him. He received a second chance at life and he has more pressing concerns to think of. Things with Kurumi wouldn't work out but that was inevitable considering he had just discovered his real soul mate. He wouldn't lose her. "Where is she?"

"She?"

"My angel," Hajime clarifies and finger-combs his hair impatiently when Kengochi looks on, entirely dumbstruck. "I mean the girl who saved me. She brought me here, didn't she? Gorgeous, flowing locks whipping like molten copper and pouty lips begging to be teased... You couldn't have missed her!"

The dumbstruck expression doesn't leave Kengochi's face for a long moment.

Hajime frowns when that ever-present fan comes up to hide the lower half of his face. If the old man was plotting ways to interfere in his love life once more... Hajime wouldn't have it. His angel was the one.

"Did you at least get her name?" Hajime demands, moving to grip the bars. "And do you have any plans about unlocking this door in the near future? Only, you see, I'm kind of feeling faint after getting jumped in an alleyway."

Kengochi's eyes narrow. "By who? We've been getting lots of reports about high school hoodlums the last couple of weeks. Looks like Kurogin's new hire hasn't lived up to her name. Can you describe what the culprit looked like?"

"Oh, I don't... think I can remember...," Hajime says faintly, clutching his head. "It's all so distant..."

The paper fan whips the bars and Hajime jumps away with a grin.

"Spill it, brat. You were spouting poetry about molten cups-"

"Copper," Hajime corrects.

"-just seconds ago."

Hajime shrugs. "What can I say, officer, I have a selective memory. Some incentive might help though."

He watches in delight as Kengochi's thin lips clamp together, his expression just shy of constipation.

"You're fine with letting your culprit walk away free of charge?" Kengochi grits out.

"Well, yeah. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have met my angel."

And suddenly Kengochi's frown morphs into a smirk. "Right. Your angel. How does trading intel for intel sound?"

It sounds suitable enough and so Hajime divulges all that he knows of Baldie. It hurts his pride a little to discover that Baldie, despite his size, is a high schooler just like him, but he figures that if he was any heavier, his angel wouldn't have been able to carry him. They really were meant to be.

Kengochi only laughs when it's time to fulfill his end of the bargain.

"Isn't it a breach of the police officer honour code to renege on a deal with an injured civilian?" Hajime whines, tilting up his bruised cheek to garner what little pity Kengochi has in his bitter heart.

"Thanks to what you pulled this morning, I don't think I have much honour left."

"Oh, right." Today's morning feels so long ago. As he exits the cell, he peers out the police station window to see the sun's blaze dimming, signalling the end of the afternoon. "It was all in good fun, though. No hard feelings."

Kengochi gives him a piercing look for a moment before a familiar grip lands on his shoulder.

"Brat, I can't tell you much about your... angel," here, the constipated expression makes a brief return, "but I can give you advice. You've been through a lot and I figure you can use some."

Hajime's ears perk, his mind quickly erasing all the ill-wishes previously aimed at the officer. This really was a second chance for him after all; perhaps now he could start a new beginning with Kengochi, one in a more mentoring vein with less profanity and chasing.

"I'll take it, officer," Hajime replies, eyes shining.

"Well then, listen carefully. When you find your angel at last, because I know you will-you are your grandfather's grandson after all-bring roses. Be as gentlemanly as you can be and your angel will swoon into your arms."

"Roses?" Hajime blinks. "How do you know? Did she tell you? What was her voice like? I bet it was heavenly..."

The snap of the paper fan jars him from his fantasies.

"It's an intuition."

~*~

The alley looks wider, less cramped and filthy in the yellow glow of daylight. There are flattened cardboard boxes strewn about and Hajime figures he was lucky enough to land on one of the thicker piles when he was knocked out cold. Thankfully he missed the broken beer bottles.

As all detectives know, the first step to solving any mystery is returning to the scene of the crime-Hajime shakes his head. Not crime, but the scene of his encounter with his first true love. Well, no, not first. It does sound more romantic though. As romantic as an alleyway sandwiched between a barber shop and sketchy pub can get.

Takane and Takashi are grappling to stand on a crate to peer through the curtained window of the pub and the absence of a big, burly bouncer kicking them out of the place signals that the pub is probably closed. Frentzen the sign above the pub says and it's not glowing either but Hajime had just figured it was a sign of poor maintenance. The place certainly looks grimy enough, but hey, if it's seedy enough to not operate during the day, all the better for his detective work.

"What are we even looking for?" Takane asks, rubbing at his big nose.

"The signs of an angel," Hajime answers in all seriousness and ignores Takashi's gagging motions; he learned long ago that a woe of being gifted entailed tolerating those of dimwit and dramatics. "I know it's hard to believe but picture, if you may, a goddess with a silky mane of fire and an embrace that could save a dying man from death's gate. Her heart overflowing with bravery and kindness, thin lips curled like a morning bud, skin as smooth as marb-"

"Wait," Takane interrupts, "weren't you delirious with agonising pain when you saw her?"

Ah, right.

Hajime puts on his solemn face. "The mind of a genius works in ways that are incomprehensible to those not gifted."

There's another retching sound but Hajime is getting better at pretending Takashi isn't there.

Twenty minutes of scrambling around in alleyway filth later, Hajime wraps his limbs around Takashi and declares his undying love.

"Manly, brotherly love, I mean," Hajime clarifies when Takashi shoves him away with a red face. "I'm saving myself for my angel."

"How do you even know that's hers?" Takane points to the golden button Takashi found a few minutes ago. "It could have been that baldie's, or a drunken customer's."

"No," Hajime says, inspecting the button. It's big and gold, smooth save for the dragon curling across the surface. "Baldie's buttons were black. He didn't need the extra shine, trust me. And unless this pub caters to people in school uniform cosplay, we've got our clue. I've only ever seen big buttons like these on school blazers."

He circles the one pinning his own school blazer closed at the waist with his finger. Big and smooth to the touch.

"So your chick is a high school girl? Last time I checked, no girls at our school can carry even a skinny ass guy like you."

Hajime laughs and flicks his bangs back. Poor, ignorant Takashi.

"Where have you been looking? I can't count on my hands and toes combined the number of times Miyuki's beaten me up."

"... Er, I don't think that's something to gloat about," Takane says but Hajime pays no mind to him and his big nose. He's found the clue he's been looking for and it won't be long now until he's walking hand in hand with his soul mate, looking down her cleavage as they share ice cream on the beach.

He holds the button up to the sky, a miniature golden sun held between his fingertips.

"In the name of my grandfather, I will find her."

~*~

So begins days of scouting the streets, running up to school girls and trying to find a match for the golden dragon button. Hajime only gets slapped once, which is a success when he looks at the harsh lines across Takane's face. He returns to Frentzen after sunset only once to see the pub in full swing but judging by the clientele passing through the doors, he determines that it's not quite his crowd, his or his angel's. It must have been the fine threads of destiny that had led her to him that evening, then.

A week later and Takane and Takashi put their feet down, expressions grim and exhausted.

"We're done chasing after your hallucination."

Hajime waves his hand at them placatingly; a Sherlock needs his Watsons... plural.

"Guys, guys, trust me. My imagination isn't good enough to paint such a heavenly vision..." A firm kick on the shin rouses him from his daydreams. Hajime sends a brief pout at Takashi. "Fine, just give me one more day at least? We only have one school left in the district. She has to be there."

"Which school?" Takane frowns. "We've checked them all and I have fingerprints of all the girls in the district on my face to prove it."

"Kurogin High."

Takashi and Takane blink.

"That's an all boys' school," they say in unison, as if Hajime doesn't know. But Hajime does know, and he's thought it through. Kengochi mentioned something about a new hire and only a woman of strength could handle teaching at a place like Kurogin. It's far and away from Hajime's own school, but he's heard of the delinquents that roam there. No wonder his angel had been able to trounce Baldie so swiftly.

"Trust me," Hajime says as he turns on the road that will take them to Kurogin High. He stops briefly to buy a healthy bouquet of pale pink roses, realising belatedly that they'll clash with his angel's hair. Hopefully she’ll be too sweet tempered to mind.

~*~

They arrive just as the lunch bell sounds and boys of all shapes and sizes spill out of the doors, roughhousing in a way that makes Hajime wince and thank his parents for sending him to a co-ed school. He can't ever imagine looking forward to gym time without the encouragement of the girl's swim team practicing backstrokes nearby.

Takane is shoved against his side as the students rush out in a sea of uniform black and Hajime has just enough time to catch his balance before he catches a glimpse of copper. There. Right there, walking among a group of five, hands buried in her pockets.

Despite only having seen it once before, Hajime could recognize that back of the head anywhere. It's his angel.

His heart stampedes in his chest.

Takashi catches the direction of his gaze and Hajime only hears a horrified oh hell no before his feet are carrying him forward like a magnet. Takashi must be jealous because this is it, the moment he'll reunite with his one true love and live happily ever after, making out under a shower of sakura petals as trumpets sound about them.

He smiles into the bouquet, his heart still racing, his feet still walking until she's right there, close enough that he can reach over and tap her shoulder, paste on a real, beaming smile as he ignores Takane's incomprehensible shouts at his back. He feels touched by their encouragement, not that he needs any because he's prepared. Hajime has the words ready on the tip of his tongue and they flow out with flawless execution just as his angel turns around.

"Excuse me, miss, I was wondering if you had an extra heart because mine seems to have been stolen."

And suddenly it's like everything has frozen into a tableau, no sound, no movement, like someone pressed the mute button and all Hajime can do is stare as he lamely holds out his bouquet. Flame red hair, high cheekbones, and pouty lips he's dreamed of kissing thousands of times-it's the same. Exactly the same. Except.

It feels like it takes centuries for his eyeballs to roll down, down across a bobbed throat exposed by an open a collar. A collar with a conspicuously missing button. He takes a sharp inhale as he lowers his gaze further, his heart skipping and air jamming in his throat and-and there's no cleavage, no sweet swellings along the chest or hips... just bony shoulders and elbows and a skinny figure that gives the illusion of height.

His angel is a rectangle.

A glorious, glowering rectangle.

Apparently, rectangles don't like roses.

"This mystery is solved," Hajime whispers faintly through a dry mouth.

There's an urgent tug at his shirt and Takashi hisses, "He's a boy" into his ear, as if Hajime hasn't noticed after staring point blank for what feels like an eternity. Sharp eyes stare back and Hajime swallows, wondering how he never noticed them earlier. They're beautiful even if they make the hairs along his nape stand on end.

He's a boy.

He's perfect.

And that's all there is to it.

"You can call me Hajime, baby," he says with his best smile and a flirtatious wink. The choking sound that emits from Takane is echoed by a poofy haired guy standing next to his angel.

"Wait," says the poofy haired guy, his gaping expression stretching into a shit-eating grin, "you thought Ryu was a girl?"

Ryu. Hajime rolls the name across his tongue, fond of it in an instant.

The gang of boys surrounding Ryu erupt in laughter, the tallest boy among them cackling behind a paper fan. Hajime gives himself a mental pat on the back; he's already spreading the charm.

The guy with the poofy hair, his hair now even poofier, finally wipes at his eyes and leans against Ryu, his elbow placed on his shoulder and his grin still fixed.

"Well, it's not like you're all that far from the truth, if you minus the boobs and-"

Hajime winces as poofy hair takes an elbow to the stomach. His Ryu is so fierce.

And then the narrowed eyes are back on him again and Hajime feels like a pinned butterfly up for examination. Examination. Ooooh, Hajime might actually like that if it moved past glowering and involved some hands on learning.

Seconds tick by and Hajime concludes that nope, glowering is the lesson of the day. He clears his throat when the silence stretches on, leaving an expectant wake. Belatedly, he realises he still has his arm outstretched, the roses beginning to wilt.

"These are for you." No harm in stating the obvious, though Ryu doesn't even spare them a glance. Maybe Hajime should lift them higher, just in case. "They pale in comparison to your beauty, but please accept them as a token of my love."

Ryu remains impassive as everyone breaks into howls, like a slab of glacier, smooth and cold as the surrounding land crumbles apart. Hajime looks for a sign of mirth or agitation, anything that he can get a grasp of, a twitch of the lips or a flicker of eyelashes. Nothing. Ryu's eyes may have narrowed by an extra millimetre, but even that might be pushing it.

The roses in his hands wilt further.

The howls are still ongoing when Ryu turns around and walks past them all, the gang of Kurogin boys scrambling to run after. Hajime doesn't even think when he does the same, his hand reaching out once more for that bony, distant shoulder.

This time, Hajime catches a faint scowl and before he can rejoice over seeing an actual expression, he finds himself shoved onto the ground, the roses crumpling under his weight. This wasn't quite what he had meant by hands on but Hajime admits that Ryu's glare looks extra deadly from his new vantage point. Deadly and gorgeous.

"Oooooh," the boys laugh before chasing after Ryu once more. The tallest one stays briefly to tap lightly at Hajime's calf with his shoe and say, "Sorry, kid, our Ryu's a bit of a heartbreaker."

Hajime sits in the dirt and rose petals and watches him leave, his heart unbroken and very much stolen.

~*~

Hajime combs back his hair, neat and sleek like a good little student who hasn't seen the light of day, steps back to get a full look in the mirror, frowns, and ruffles his hair so his light brown bangs fall forward once more.

"I can't believe you're doing this," Takashi says. He's sprawled on Hajime's bed, feet on his pillow, and watching Hajime as if he's gone mental. Poor Takashi probably doesn't even know what love is; his life must be so empty. The thought makes Hajime smile pityingly at him through the mirror and Takashi promptly groans at the ceiling. "No. No more lectures on the meaning of life. I swear I will strangle you."

"One day you too will find your soul mate," Hajime says philosophically and leaves it at that. There's only so much false hope he can give, even to a friend.

"Do you even know what you're doing? Those guys will eat you alive."

Hajime buttons his collar. He'd thought about that too. Kurogin isn't exactly the most hospitable school. The building itself looks like it could cave in any minute and the students would probably welcome it, end their misery so to speak. But it's cool; Hajime knows how to adapt. It's all in the stance. He should be able to maneuver among angst ridden teenage boys, considering he's one himself.

And if worst comes to worst...

"I'm the fastest person in our track team."

Takashi snorts. "Don't think you'd look so hot running away in front of your angel."

"It's the fine art of fleeing," Hajime returns, bristling. "It's the smart thing to do and for many, intellect is considered sexy."

His reflection preens back at him and yep, Hajime thinks with a wink, he definitely knows how to sexy.

Behind him, Takashi's brows gather like rain clouds. "How do you even have an IQ of 180?"

Hajime shrugs and gives himself one last look over. Life can be unfair. So unfair that Hajime has to stop himself from preening again at the dashing figure reflected back. The black uniform is old-fashioned but there's a boyish charm to it, a sophistication to the straight row of buttons and classic collar.

With one last flick at his bangs, Hajime is ready to sweep Ryu off his feet.

~*~

As soon as he steps into class 3D, everything falls silent and Hajime takes the time to wonder if raging, angry testosterone is a height booster because how the hell is everyone taller than him. Well, not everyone. There's a smaller boy with big eyes and a headband and he looks nonthreatening enough to wave to at, and so Hajime does, just so he can distract himself from the wave of energy being focused on him.

He feels like a lamb that has wandered into a lion's den-but, he reasons, that's a completely false analogy because if that were true, he'd be dead by now. But he's not. He's alive and waving.

The headband boy grins at him, maybe a bit snake-like, but there's at least some positive emotion on his face. Hajime will take that.

"Ryu, your boyfriend's here," headband boy calls and Hajime's brain is still tripping over the word when there's shuffling and a gap forms among burly shoulders to reveal... Ryu.

Ryu, the sudden orchestra in his heart sings for emphasis. He's slumped back against the seat of his graffiti-topped desk, languid and beautiful like a cat awakened from a long nap. Hajime swallows because Ryu wears the uniform better than he does, with the folds of his collar hanging open. But of course they would be open; Hajime still has his button.

"H-hi!" Hajime says and it sounds too high to be suave.

Ryu's eyes narrow slightly, indicating that he's taken note of their shared uniform, and Hajime flushes, waiting for the verdict. It doesn't come, or at least not verbally. Ryu's gaze unfocuses and he turns back to the open window without as much as meeting Hajime's eyes. Hajime watches the wind play with the auburn strands of his hair before it sinks in that he's been dismissed.

A tiny violin replaces the orchestra.

"So..." headband boy says before the silence can stretch on long enough to be humiliating, "you go here now?"

Hajime nods, keeping his smile bright. "I'm not in this class though, which is a shame. The walls are so... colourful down here. Very abstract."

The room could function as a backdrop for an illicit drug exchange but his regret is real. Once his transfer papers had been sorted, he was asked to complete a test to determine his placement in a class that complemented his skill level. He'd have sabotaged his results if he had known Ryu was in the lowest ranking class.

It still doesn't quite make sense though because even now as Ryu stares out through the window, completely ignoring his existence with his index finger tapping an aimless rhythm, he has a polished air about him that doesn't fit with the likes of 3D. The others clearly give him deference although Ryu's never uttered an order. Like before, when Ryu had shoved him and left, everyone flocking after him instantly, and now, just a few minutes ago when the glaring crowd of delinquents had spread to make way for Ryu who hadn't so much as risen from his seat.

There's definitely something there. Hajime just has to dig behind the cold wall of vacancy to find it.

"So what class are you in, then?" There's that super tall fan guy again. Hajime tries a wave at him too but it's returned with a smirk. Tall people and their smirks, Hajime thinks bitterly, it's like an added insult.

"Oh, y'know..." Hajime says with feigned nonchalance and a broad hand gesture purely made to distract, "just 1A. It's not that different though"-except for having clean walls and desks that don't squeak and first edition texts, not to mention being on the top floor where the sunlight hits at the perfect angle-"and I don't really understand the need for such an archaic division system."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say.

Poofy haired guy who might be co-leader with Ryu what with the way he has to stand front and center all the time, like an alpha male with really good hair, bristles and squints. "Archaic? What does that even mean?"

Huh. So poofy haired guy must indeed have been handed leadership for his hair. If Hajime returns to his lion analogy, it makes sense; the lion with the most impressive mane has the greater advantage in sexual selection-and that's when Hajime's brain hurriedly backtracks because the image of Mr. Poof strutting about for a chance to mate with Ryu is all sorts of nauseating.

Hajime has nice hair too; it just happens to lack volume.

Before Hajime can make a mental note to upgrade his shampoo, Mr. Poof has stalked up to him, almost nose to nose. Oh right, Hajime was supposed to be answering a question.

"Who do you think you are?" Mr. Poof growls and the mental nickname really drops a notch on the intimidation tactic. "Ryu doesn't have time to waste on prissy know-it-alls so you better-"

"Hayato!" hisses a staunchy guy wearing a hideous floral patterned shirt under his uniform jacket. He points at the clock as it ticks closer to noon and Mr. Poof curses under his breath.

"Right. Sawatari should be coming soon. Take," and that would be the headband boy, Hajime learns, "you get the bucket while Hyuuga, you tie the string. Tsuchiya we'll need you to put it on door. The rest of you look out for that old fart."

Tall fan guy nods and Hajime is pointedly ignored for the second time in the span of twenty minutes. He steps back, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible even though the black of his clothes doesn't exactly camouflage well with the bright spray paint decorating the walls. Among all the scurrying, Ryu doesn't shift an inch or even lift a curious eye. Like the calm eye of a cyclone, he sits untouched by the surrounding madness.

Hajime tries shuffling nearer but he stops when he catches Hyuuga in the process of tying the string, the handle of a dented bucket filled with dirt attached to the other end. He shouldn't interfere. No need to be a know-it-all.

Hajime bites his tongue.

And then opens his mouth.

"You're tying it to the wrong side. It'll fall on you that way. You're aiming at Sawatari's head, right? Use the other doorknob. I mean, if you want to," he adds hastily, bowing his head so that it's clear he isn't giving orders. How many delinquents does it take to set up a fifth-grade booby trap? Not enough, apparently.

The others freeze and Hajime watches their gaze turn to Hayato in question. To listen to reason or not to listen to reason? It's all the same to Hajime; he doesn't have a bone to pick with Sawatari, at least not yet. Hayato gives him a squinty look before nodding at Hyuuga. "Try it."

They don't have much time though because Take is waving his hands from where he's stationed outside in the hall. A rushed minute ending with everyone scrambling to find their seats and open their texts-and Hajime thinks they couldn’t be anymore obvious-leads to the telltale sound of footfalls in the hall.

There's thick anticipation in the air and Hajime's palms are sweaty because the worst he's ever done is play hooky. He glances back at Ryu who has finally turned away from the window and is staring straight ahead at the door, cool as a cucumber. And then the door swings open and Hajime whips around just in time to see the bucket upend on Sawatari's head, right on target.

He bites his lip as a wave of snickers swallows the room.

Sawatari is a dirt-laden statue before he finally moves to swipe the dirt off his glasses. The look in his eyes manages to dampen everyone's amusement, only if ever so slightly.

"Who?" he says, his lips thinning into a tight line so as to seal a scream of outrage that's breaking out in the growing red of his face. And that's when Hajime feels his stomach drop and he promptly looks down at his desk. He's not even in this class; he's an outsider. It would only take a single accusation from Hayato to turn the prissy know-it-all into a scapegoat and save his buddies from expulsion.

Hajime clenches his fist, waiting for his name to drop or for a finger to point his way. He should have kept his mouth shut.

"I don't know, sir. We've all been studying like the good students we are. Look, we've made it to page 117."

Hajime lifts his head and tries not to look too surprised when he sees Hayato smiling innocently up at Sawatari who grits his teeth.

"I've had it with you, Yabuki. It's about time we rid you from this school-"

"But sir, he hasn't done anything. We've all been here and we haven't seen him do anything besides read his book," Take says, his eyes going extra round as he looks around the room. "Did you guys see anything?"

Hajime gets his head to move along with the others in a unanimous no.

It would be so easy for someone, anyone, to raise their hand, to spoil everything. But no one does and suddenly Hajime feels it, understands why a mention of 3D makes every authority figure pale. Their strength has nothing to do with their ripped clothes or rough edges and everything to do with their unity.

And maybe there's something more to Hayato than his poofy hair.

"Surely you can't expel a student without any sound proof," Takeuchi adds, waving his fan airily like the entire situation bores him and Sawatari is ridiculous for drawing it out.

Sawatari looks the part too, standing in the doorway with clumps of dirt trailing off his shoulders. His nostrils dilate as he snarls, "Yamaguchi will hear of this."

Hayato does a cheeky salute at Sawatari's back as he stomps out into the corridor and the class cheers, textbooks falling to the floor now that their use as props has ended. Everyone doubles over in laughter that no doubt makes its way to Sawatari's ears. Well, everyone but Ryu. Miraculously, Hajime manages to catch his eyes from across the room and there's a faint smirk playing around Ryu's lips that makes his heart skip. That's as close to a smile as he's ever seen from Ryu.

The moment is broken when Hayato steps in between, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"You didn't rat us out."

Hajime blinks. It had never even occurred to him that he could have, that he had the upper hand all along because Sawatari would no doubt put more weigh to his words than those of 3D’s.

"Neither did you," Hajime returns slowly and Hayato's face crinkles again, like the suggestion of tattling is an insult. Hajime is about to backtrack when Hayato's face clears and he nods.

"So. About what I was saying earlier."

"You mean about me being a prissy know-it-all?" Hajime clarifies sheepishly.

A lopsided grin blooms across Hayato's face. "Yeah. That." And there's a hand extended towards him. "Welcome to the family."

Hajime feels as if he's just passed the biggest test in his life.

~*~

After that impromptu initiation rite, Hajime figured that the path to Ryu's heart lay right before him, uncluttered and short. Now, nearly a week after the incident with Sawatari, he thinks otherwise. The problem isn't with the others, or at least not mostly. Takane and Takashi are still stunned that he hasn't been beaten up yet or had his head stuffed into a toilet; they've even suspected bribery before throwing that thought away because Hajime isn't exactly made of money. Shame his famous grandfather hadn't left him with a legacy he can trade in for cash. Too bad he can't sell his brains.

Hajime waves them off, not risking explaining that the delinquents of Kurogin High are more about playing childish pranks on authority figures than carrying knives and terrorizing students. Exposing their soft undersides probably goes against some unspoken pack rule. Because that's what they are: a pack. And Hajime is the stray pup they've decided to adopt and sometimes he really does feel as if he's wagging his tail when he invents new booby traps to please and raise his rank within the group. Hajime wan-wan to the rescue. Not that he minds much, but after having learned their history through a fervent, heartfelt lecture by Yankumi-complete with misty eyes and a throbbing voice because Yankumi is the most bizarre teacher he's ever met-he can't help but feel like an outsider.

They treat him well though. Hajime can breathe easier when he steps on the school grounds now; he's learned that there's nothing to fear if you're on their side. Sure there are the playful fists to the shoulders that Hajime smiles through even though they actually really, really hurt, and he's heard of some conflicts with gangs from other schools, territorial fights with too much testosterone and injured pride clouding the air. He shies away from those and the others never ask him to join, not when he's been outed to be completely useless in a fight. And by Ryu, no less.

"So how did you meet Ryu-chan in the first place?" asks Take when they're all sitting on the rooftop on a sunny Thursday, chewing on onigiri and getting sticky rice everywhere. Take is probably the only one who can get away with addressing Ryu like that. Hajime had tried the other day and was promptly elbowed in the stomach.

Hajime wipes at his mouth.

"I was running from a cop who's been after me for ages," he begins, trying to earn brownie points by looking extra rebellious before he fast-forwards the rest, "and then I bumped into Baldie. There was a brief tussle but everything worked out because Ryu arrived in the nick of time."

"Like prince charming?" Take asks with a sneaky smile and Hajime nods, smiling dopily at Ryu. Take snickers as Hyuuga makes a face.

The sunlight makes Ryu glow, sets his hair on fire so that his face looks shrouded in an auburn halo and Hajime wouldn't mind watching him breathe like that all day. He looks beautiful even when he rolls his eyes and says, "He was knocked out cold. The bald guy wasn't even that tough. It only took a couple seconds to deal with him before I had to carry this one to the station."

Hajime stares then because that is singlehandedly the longest string of words he's heard from Ryu's lips.

Hayato makes a small gurgley noise before he leans towards Hajime with excited, laughing eyes. "You fainted? Forreal?"

"I was punched in the face!" Hajime squawks defensively. He's not made of stone; when punched by a bigger guy, he caves. It's a natural tendency, nothing to be ashamed of.

Of course, the others think differently as they roll along the cement, cackling at his expense. He feels his face grow hot and he turns to Ryu, thinking that if he's managed to bring out any evidence of mirth from him, his injured pride will be worth it.

Ryu has his head flung back, the long curve of his neck exposed. His body is braced by his arms as he looks up at the cerulean sky, his eyes dyed light brown by the sun and an upward lift to his lips, looking beautifully serene as flailing limbs roll by.

It ends up being pretty well worth it.

~*~

So, no, it's not the others who are the source of difficulty in his mission to woo Ryu.

Take is supportive with a romantic soul that compliments his own, playing cupid whenever Hajime comes down from the upper level during lunch break and letting him have the seat nearest to Ryu. Hyuuga is mostly confused but has stopped looking at Ryu as if he's trying to figure out where his secret boobs are because he doesn't understand how a human stick can be attractive, "but whatever floats your boat, dude."

Ryu floats his boat very well, thank you; rocks it even. Takeuchi finds the entire thing amusing, like Hajime is comedy gold and has rescued him from the dullness of 3D life. Unlike Take, Takeuchi is helpful towards the cause more to see the entertainment of Hajime being spurned yet again than to actually get him hooked up with Ryu. Although... with Take's impish smiles, it's hard to tell if he's entirely free from that ulterior motive.

Hayato is the tough one which is strange because Hajime knows how to read people and Hayato isn't made for deception. He's bold and loud, even when he's blatantly shoving Hajime at Ryu, grinning like a fool because "ohmygod you thought Ryu was a girl." It's not the first time someone was fooled by Ryu's androgyny, he hears from Take, but Hayato never lets him or Ryu forget it. He throws taunts at Ryu and while this form of comradery is commonplace among them, Hajime doesn't think Hayato calling Ryu angel and princess is helping his case.

Sometimes he suspects that Hayato does it on purpose, with the intent to keep Hajime out of Ryu's favour, but that doesn't add up because Hayato had plenty of chances to shoo him away for good and yet he's still here. Still, Hajime can't help but notice something between them, a closeness that's exclusive to only them. Hayato-and possible Take-is the only allowed into Ryu's personal space, be it an elbow nudge or an arm flung around his shoulders. More importantly, Ryu always looks at Hayato; looks right at him instead of past him like he does at times with the others, and almost always with Hajime. No matter how inane Hayato's thoughts may be, they always manage to penetrate into Ryu's awareness.

Hajime considers dumbing himself down but doubts it would help; he can't hope to compete with years’ worth of childhood friendship so fast, but he'll try. He even has Yankumi's support. Yankumi who is in every way a hopeless romantic, more than he and Take and a flock of preteen girls combined. It only took a retelling of how he and Ryu met for Yankumi to bring out her invisible pompoms-Hajime suspects she keeps a stash of real, rainbow coloured ones at home-and cheer Hajime with pep-talks every time they meet each other in the hallways. It's sweet and incredibly embarrassing and now Hajime changes direction whenever he catches sight of a red tracksuit.

His eyes, instead, are trained to scan for a different shade of red with a copper tinge.

It's Ryu who is the biggest obstacle to his own heart. A dragon, like his namesake, curled protectively around the treasure Hajime seeks. Luckily, Hajime has been battling murderers, Miyuki, thieves, Miyuki, and a handful of vampires and zombies all his life. It'll be a first, but he can work with a dragon.

How hard can it be?

~*~

Hajime braces himself against the doorframe with an outstretched arm, his free hand running through his hair just as he had practiced. In his mind, he makes a dashing figure, straight off the cover of one of those romance novels Miyuki denies she ever reads.

"Do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk by again?"

From his seat by his desk, Ryu doesn't even bat an eye. Huh. Maybe Hajime's winking is a bit rusty.

Hajime clears his throat and stalks forward, a conscious strut to his steps. The room is empty with everyone off to grab a bite at Kuma's place and Hajime would have gone along as well if Ryu wasn't taking a cat nap and needed looking after. Hayato had snorted at that because despite his size, Ryu was a mean little thing and could easily cripple Hajime, which was true. It didn't take many elbows to the stomach to convince Hajime of that. In truth, he'd spent the last half hour staring at Ryu's sleeping face, the sweep of his lashes against his cheeks as they fluttered with every deep breath.

Either asleep or awake, Ryu's face is mesmerizingly still.

Hajime plants a hand on his desk and tries again, leaning his hip against the edge.

"Had a good sleep? You must be tired from running through my dreams all night."

Ryu stares at his hand for a moment before his head lifts slowly and Hajime feels his gaze all the way up his arm and under his skin. There's a shiver up his spine when they finally lock eyes. Three minutes pass until Hajime finally realises that Ryu isn't about to say anything. He squints. He doesn't even think Ryu has blinked.

"Umm..." he trails off because being alone in a room with Ryu staring at him, not a single emotion to read on his face, is discomfiting. And, because who's Hajime trying to kid when he has Ryu's intense focus all to himself, kind of hot. He scratches the skin of his collar with a clammy finger.

He notices Ryu's eyes dart around the empty room before they return. There's a question there.

"They went to eat at Kuma's," Hajime says. There's a small neck movement that might be a nod before Ryu stands up, walks around Hajime, and leaves the room. Hajime stands there, leaning against Ryu's desk and grazing a hand over where their elbows had touched. So outlandish compliments aren’t Ryu’s weakness. He’ll try something else.

~*~

There's a list he's made now, of what Ryu likes and doesn't like:

1. Ryu doesn't like to talk much.

....

It's a very short list.

He considers taking up sign language but even Ryu's body expressions are hard to decipher. In all the seemingly impossible cases he's come across, Ryu is his biggest mystery. Hajime finds himself drawing upon all his detective skills as he tries to read each clue flickering across Ryu's face. It turns out that Ryu's facial muscles haven’t in fact atrophied; until now, Hajime just wasn't looking close enough.

"Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"

Hajime is attuned to reading facial hints-a poorly concealed sideways glance during a questioning, for example, has helped him catch many a murderers-but sometimes the hints are made to be obvious. Like the skin tightening around Ryu's eyes in a withering glare. Hajime notes how the pen in his hand stills momentarily before it continues on to complete a math equation that takes up half the page. He peeks down at Ryu's notebook, much like how most of the 3D boys are doing, and smiles at the neat writing. Smiles and tries not to be a know-it-all again.

The gang is scribbling furiously, hurrying to finish their homework so they can fling pencils into the ceiling or stuff marshmallows up their noses, all of which Hajime is used to by now. He finds their concentrated effort touching, even if they're copying off Ryu and absorbing nothing; it's their way of making up to Yankumi for the bucket incident and Yankumi will probably go misty-eyed with joy when she sees a stack of completed exercises piled a atop her desk when she returns.

Even if the solutions to those exercises are wrong. Because of a simple, easy to fix mistake.

Hajime starts up a tune, drumming his fingers to distract himself, only to fail because he's opening his mouth before he can stop himself.

"The third line of your equation is wrong," Hajime blurts out and this time the skin tightening around Ryu's eyes is out of confusion, not disgust. Hajime watches the ginger strands of his hair fall as he looks over his notebook. When his gaze lifts again, there's a faint crease above his thin eyebrows and his lips are strangely puckered and-Hajime almost pinches himself because that looks like a pout.

Ryu can pout.

That tidbit of knowledge is staggering and the rest of 3D look aghast as well, though for a different reason. It didn't take long to learn that Ryu was justifiably considered the cleverest of the class, the one with the twinkling potential for more, and having Ryu corrected for the first time might be blasphemous in their eyes.

Ryu doesn't seem to take offense though. He continues to pout patiently, confused and waiting.

Hajime swallows the urge to lean over and kiss him because he doesn't need another black eye, and instead licks his lips before explaining.

"You see, it's like this..."

~*~

How inadvertently dethroning Ryu for the title of class genius lead to Hajime's locker being stuffed with homework that wasn't his own, Hajime didn't know.

"I'm not even in your class," Hajime whines when Take and Hayato ambush him in the hallway, twin smiles on their faces as they hold their notebooks outstretched. "You're never going to learn anything this way."

"Sure we are," Hayato says. "We can use the time we save by not doing school stuff to learn allllll sorts of things."

"What? Things like how pissed Hyuuga gets when you tie his shoes together while he's sleeping?" Hajime snaps as he accepts the notebooks with an inward sigh. His writing is going to make the plagiary obvious but he doubts the school cares. The teachers will be ecstatic enough to have something actually legible handed in by the 3D students.

"You're the best, Jime-chan!" Take grins. "I'm sure Ryu thinks so too!"

Which is what Take always says because the little fiend knows his weakness, but this time there's a wink and a nudge towards the school entrance.

"Have fun, lover boy," Hayato says before shouldering him in his usual playful manner and running off with Take. In a few minutes from now, Hajime expects that Hyuuga will be tripping and cursing all over the place.

He turns back to his locker and by the time he's gathered everything, his backpack weighs what feels like a ton. He slouches forward like a hunchback, dragging his feet unattractively through the silent halls until he passes through the entrance and sees Ryu leaning against the gates, waiting. His uniform jacket hangs open and the dark cloth flaps about with the wind. Ryu's eyes land on him and immediately, Hajime's back straightens and there's a sudden jauntiness to his steps.

Ryu looks past him when he's closer, as if waiting for the rest to show up.

Ah. Take and Hayato. Hajime will make sure he does their homework with extra care. A couple exercises for a date with Ryu is more than a fair trade.

"They went to wake up Hyuuga. It'll probably take a while," Hajime says, blushingly stupidly because it's the first time he's been alone with Ryu outside and not in a stuffy basement room, which sounds a whole lot misleading than it actually is and Hajime's thoughts should not be going there. "Are you heading home? I can walk you there."

Danger. Narrowed eyes. Abort.

"I mean, not that you need an escort. I just. I'd like too. And it's along the way, so." And that's a moronic thing to say because they both know Hajime has no clue as to where Ryu lives. Another gust of wind swirls past them just then, sweeping Ryu's hair across his face so Hajime can't be sure if the twitch of lips he sees is out of irritation or amusement or if it's real at all.

Ryu shrugs on the strap of his bag and turns to walk away from Kurogin, showing no outward acknowledgement of Hajime walking alongside him. Hajime can't help but take advantage of his silence, because silence is ambiguous and this way he can avoid the possibility of rejection. If Ryu was as boisterous as Hayato-and Hajime winces at the thought because he can't even imagine it-then Hajime would never have a chance. This way, though, he can pretend he has Ryu's permission to follow him home, pretend that Ryu doesn't find him an annoyance.

Ryu's house happens to be in the exact opposite direction of Hajime's, though Hajime doesn’t voice that observation out loud.

"Good weather today, huh?" he asks instead when the silence gets too much. He catches a tiny lift of shoulders and makes peace with that offering. Striking up small talk with Ryu might be excruciating, but it's possible. One just has to be madly in love.

"Do you have any siblings?" Hajime tries, realising that he knows virtually nothing about Ryu's life outside school. Ryu shakes his head and Hajime beams. They are destined. "Me neither! How cool! What about pets? Do you have any?"

"We have a guard dog."

Words. Real words from Ryu's lips. Hajime savours them, locks up Ryu's deep voice in the forefront of his memory. He also takes note of the guard dog because it's vital information if he ever decides to serenade Ryu from below his window.

"Guard dog? Sounds spooky. You get a lot of people sneaking into your place?"

A sharp smile cuts across Ryu's face. "The other way around."

Hajime thinks this may be his lucky day: words and expressions. He jostles Ryu's words in his mind, not quite understanding, but the almost bitter tone he uses suggests that not all is well in the Odagiri household. He can cross out finance issues in the list of possible problems as he follows Ryu into a neighborhood lined with impressive houses that exude wealth in the trimness of their lawns and fresh paint jobs.

So Hajime had been right. It was obvious from the start that Ryu's background differed from the rest; it was evident in the way he moved, precise and with a ripple of elegance along his skinny limbs. A direct contrast to Hayato whose movements are uncontrolled and abrupt. When Ryu stops in front of one of the most extravagant semi-mansions of the street, Hajime admits, almost in awe, that he hadn't expected the gap to be quite so big.

Ryu's house is white and huge, cut in sharp, elaborate turns and painted a modern white that gives off the impression of blank, hard, coldness. Nothing like the walls of the 3D classroom and everything like Ryu's face when he turns to him.

"You can leave now." Read: You should leave now, or else.

So the Odagiri house is only for outside viewing. Hajime can settle with that. For now that is. He's already made more progress today than he has for the past two weeks. Pushing his luck will only send him backwards. He's about to smile and wave an obedient goodbye but he's interrupted by a honk at his back. He startles as the gates open and a shiny black car that screams money and business rolls into the driveway. Someone's home early from the office.

Beside him, Ryu has gone still, his fist clenched by his side.

This can either be good or very, very bad, Hajime realises when the chauffeur hurries out to open the passenger seat as if a second’s delay will cost him his salary. A polished shoe lands on the pavement, followed by a suited leg, and soon enough Hajime is looking straight on at who he assumes is Ryu's dad. The family resemblance isn't stark but from the firm set of his shoulders, Hajime can tell that Odagiri-san is at least partly responsible for Ryu's statuesque mannerisms.

"Ryu, is this your new friend? I expect you to have introduced us by now." From the way Ryu bows his head, Hajime can tell there's a hidden rebuke in those words.

"This is Kindaichi Hajime. He transferred to Kurogin a few weeks ago."

Odagiri-san nods as if that's all he needs to know. "I hope my son is doing a good job of showing you around, Kindaichi-kun."

Hajime beams. It's the perfect opening to score points with Ryu.

"He's doing an excellent job! I don't think I could have managed without his help. He's been very kind, truly."

Hajime expects Odagiri-san to smile at Ryu, give a proud chuckle or some other form of fatherly praise. Instead, Odagiri-san gives a perfunctory nod and suddenly the family resemblance is striking.

"I can imagine it would be a hassle to settle down, what with those ruffians from class 3D loitering about. Good on you for getting by."

A deep seated loyalty born from his first day at Kurogin makes Hajime want to object but a sharp, discreet shake of Ryu's head from his peripheral view keeps his mouth sealed. He keeps his smile in place, trying to look the opposite of a ruffian as Odagiri-san inspects him from head to toe, probably calculating his worth and gauging whether it ranks high enough to allow Hajime to stand on his driveway, next to his son. Hajime suspects Hayato had failed to impress.

Odagiri-san's forehead creases and Hajime thinks uh oh until, "Kindaichi Hajime, was it?" Oh, phew. Just that. Hajime waits for the usual inquiry. "You wouldn't happen to be the grandson of Kindaichi Kosuke, would you? He was a great man in his time."

"Yes and yes," Hajime replies with a humble bow of his head. "My grandfather was indeed a great man. Unfortunately that makes it impossible for me to fill his shoes."

"Nonsense!" And at last there's a smile. It's not the first time that his family history has managed to impress more than Hajime himself. "Granted, I wouldn't suggest Kurogin as the best of schools but you no doubt have your grandfather's genes. Ryu would do well to learn from you, I'm sure. He needs good company like you."

The barb against the 3D ruffians couldn't be more obvious. Still, Hajime tries not to preen because having Odagiri-san endorse their relationship is huge and no doubt advantageous.

Odagiri-san proves so in his next words: "In fact, since you're here, why not eat dinner with us? I hope you don't have any other commitments to attend to; I'd love to hear stories about the famous Kindaichi Kosuke."

"Dinner is in an hour," Ryu points out. His entire body is tense and a precursor to a sound beating if Hajime agrees. Thankfully, Odagiri-san takes the decision out of his hands.

"Perfect. You can show Kindaichi-kun to your room to freshen up and finish your schoolwork in the meantime. Now's not the time to let your grades slip, Ryu. Have Kindaichi-kun tutor you and do me well."

And that's that. Odagiri-san pivots and walks up the driveway, leaving Hajime and Ryu to follow in his wake. Ryu glares at him, heated and accusing and Hajime stretches his eyes big and round, pleading innocence. It's a bit much to ask him to control his ancestry and filter the famous detective blood running in his veins.

He'll make it up somehow, he thinks as he trails behind a stomping Ryu and tries not to appear too plebeian as he passes through the ornate oak doors of the Odagiri household.

~*~

Dinner goes well for the most part. It's easy to put on the charm and Ryu's mother is friendlier than he had imagined. An introduction with curled fists as makeshifts paws and a cutesy "Please call me Hajime wan-wan" allows him to slip right into her heart. He tries not to pay too much attention to the singing sensation at the back of his head, courtesy of Ryu's venomous glare.

The food is delicious and while he's not old enough to share a sip of the amber whiskey swirling in a large crystal glass as Odagiri-san retells stories of youth and his grandfather's influence, Hajime feels tipsy simply sitting next to Ryu, in Ryu's dining room no less. The heavy chandelier hanging above encases the room in false warmth and by the end of the meal, Hajime leaves the house with an open invitation to drop by again.

"Dinner hasn't been so animated in a while. We hope to see you again soon, don't we Ryu?"

Hajime tries not to smile too hard when Ryu is forced to nod under his mother's expectant gaze. Soon sounds good.

There's a bounce in his steps as he makes the long walk home. He's never met the parents of his past love interests before-the flame never lasted long enough to warrant it-but he doesn't think today could have gone any better. He was a hit. It wouldn't be too long from now that Ryu would feel that way too.

The sun is setting, dyeing the sky with an orange glow, and the wind has died down enough to make the walk pleasant and further heighten his good mood. He's past Ryu's neighborhood and he feels lucky enough to risk a shortcut through a narrow street.

It's almost like déjà vu when he hears footsteps behind him and turns to see Baldie. There's a vivid difference though; Baldie isn't alone this time.

Hajime does a quick headcount-five-and tries to map out an escape. He may have the disadvantage in numbers and not knowing the area as well, not to mention lacking in the muscles department-and okay. It's safer to say he's at a disadvantage, period.

"W-we meet again!" Hajime says brightly, stepping back as the others move forward. The worst thing he can do now is let them encircle him.

"So we do," Baldie says with a toothy grin. "I see you've switched schools." A chunky finger points to his black uniform. "Made friends with those Kurogin apes, huh? Think you're tough stuff by hiding behind your new pals? Well look. I brought mine along too."

Hajime wonders if he should take that as a compliment, because if Baldie thinks he needs his lackeys to take Hajime on even after punching the daylights out of him last time then, well... Hajime must have put on a better fight then he had thought. Even if all he did was stand there and take a punch to the face.

Right. Lesson learned. No more standing.

He runs, faster than any sprint he's had to make for the track team. He turns a sharp corner and then another, almost slipping on the pavement but he catches his balance before he tumbles. He doesn't know where he's headed but he knows he's still being chased and that's not a situation he's unaccustomed to; he should thank Kengochi and Miyuki later on, for giving him a work out and inadvertently training him for this moment.

His lungs are burning and he's almost reached the main street where he'll be in the safety of open space and the public eye.

An outstretched leg trips his ankle and sends him rolling onto the ground.

Hajime blinks up from the dirt, his palms stinging from the fall. Baldie's breath is slow and even, as if he'd been waiting to ambush Hajime outside the maze of narrow streets. Hajime hadn't thought Baldie had enough brains to plan.

The other four have arrived by the time Hajime props himself onto his feet again. He might as well have stayed seated though because a second later he's pushed down once more.

"What? Your friend won't come to rescue you this time? How sad."

When Baldie gets close enough to land a kick to his side, Hajime catches sight of a row of stitches running diagonal across his forehead. Baldie follows his eyes and kicks him again. Hajime rolls with the blow to lessen the pain but he still has to bite his lip to hold back a groan.

Baldie crouches next to him and traces the stitches with his thumb, his eyes narrowed into slits. "A souvenir from your friend. But you see, we Ara boys know our manners. We're all about give and take. So, punk," Baldie snarls as he roughly tugs Hajime up by his collar, a fist poised above his head, "I'm going to give you a little gift you can take back to your friend, alright? Let him know we'd like to return his kindness personally."

This time, Hajime sees the fist coming, tracks its arch until it lands in splitting pain.

~*~

Part Two