Aishuu Offers:
The First Time
Shitsui@yahoo.com
Disclaimers: Kareshi Kanojyo no Jijoo belongs to
Gainax, not me.   I�m only borrowing them for a
little, and they will be returned relatively
undamaged.
Note: This is an expanded version of Episode .5- how
does Arima fall in love with Miyazawa?  I liked the
episode, but I thought there was a lot we didn�t see� 
Consider it an AU.
Dedicated to the fans of Kare Kano!   Especially ones
like Elysia and Mi-chan, who went out of their way to
help me research this fic!  This has been sitting on
my HD for a while, but when one of my friends said she
had bought the DVD in her store, I knew the time had
come to release this!   If you haven�t seen this yet,
I encourage you to!  Wonderful anime!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As you move through the school years, it is a natural
thing to feel the flow of time.   People enter and
leave your life like images no more substantial than a
shadow, and we change.  When I came to high school, I
was chosen as the representative of the incoming
class.   This is a great honor; it meant that of all
the new freshmen, I had scored the highest on the
entrance exams.

	That had not been a surprise to me.   I had always
been at the top of the class.   What did surprise me
were the eventual repercussions� but I was much too
nervous that day to pay much attention to the other
students.   Perhaps if I had, I might have had a
little forewarning about how much my life was going to
change.

	�Ne, ne�� a female voice whispered as I went to my
shoebox to change into indoor shoes.   �Did you hear? 
Miyazawa Yukino is going here!�

	�Really?� another answered eagerly.   �That�s such a
relief!   I was wondering how I�d pass math without
her help�. But why didn�t she go to a private school?�

	�No idea,� a third voice said.  �I suppose she�s the
class representative, thought.   She deserves it, and
she�ll really impress the upperclassmen��

	�No!   She scored second,� the first female said,
sounding slightly scandalized.   

	�Really?   I bet it was some pencil-necked geek who
got it- too bad.�  I smiled to myself at being called
a pencil-necked geek.   �Miyazawa would have done a
great job,� the second one said, oblivious to my
eavesdropping.

	�She does a great job at anything she does,� the
first one said.   �I want to be like her.�   

	The others agreed.   That was the first time I ever
heard of Miyazawa Yukino.   Still, in the frantic pace
of that day, I quickly pushed the incident to the back
of my mind.   My life might have been a lot easier if
I hadn�t.

	After the welcoming ceremony, we headed to our
classrooms.   The first day was the usual
get-to-know-you period, which in my case had just
become superfluous.   Everyone in school knew my face
now, and from the murmurs that had arisen when I had
stood, I would be receiving the same treatment I
always had previously.   Mentally I started tallying
the committees I would end up on with an internal
sigh.

	The door to Class A stood open, and I was last to
arrive, since I had been meeting with some of my
senpai.  The room hushed as I entered, then
Kawashima-sensei smiled at me.   �Ah, Arima-kun.  
Your seat is there.�  He pointed, then gave me a
moment to situate myself.   �We�re glad to have you
here,� he said warmly.

	I fought to keep a blush from overcoming my face,
with mixed success.  �Thank you, sir.�

	The eyes of the entire class were on me.   I suppose
the romantic thing would be for me to say that I
noticed Miyazawa�s attention then, but that wouldn�t
be true.   It would be two days before she stood out
in my mind, in math class.

	Kawashima-sensei had just placed a complex problem on
the board and asked for a volunteer to solve it.   I
started to raise my hand, knowing most of my
classmates would avoid the public trial like the
plague, but to my surprise, a slender hand rose,
causing me to hesitate.

	�Miyazawa-san,� Kawashima-sensei said, holding out a
piece of chalk.

	The girl rose gracefully.   She moved fluidly and her
light hair swayed against her cheekbones as she strode
forward to take the chalk before confidently turning
to the board.   There was no hesitation in her as she
wrote out the solution.  Her handwriting was elegant
and precise, and she didn�t bother with a calculator
as she labeled the theorems she used to come to the
accurate answer.   The class watched in awe as she
made it easy enough for anyone to grasp.   Finally she
set the chalk down and waited for the verdict.   

	�That was splendidly done, Miyazawa-san,� the teacher
congratulated her.

	�Thank you, she answered, her voice sweet and melodic
as a well-tune harp.   She turned towards the class
and her eyes seemed to settle on me for a second.  
They were brown.   A very light, pretty brown, and
seemed very self-assured.   For a moment I thought I
saw a hint of challenge in them, but it was gone too
suddenly for me to be sure of.   I decided I must have
imaged it- after all, what could a sweet girl like
Miyazawa be challenging me about?

	Little did I know�.

	We elected class representatives later that week- or,
should I say, Miyazawa and I were dragooned into it.  
We accepted it graciously, and arranged to meet after
class on Saturday (our half day of school) to begin
out duties.

	As the last bell rang, the other students sprang for
the door, eager to embrace their freedom.   Miyazawa
remained in her seat, writing.   I rose and walked
over to her.   �Are you ready to go over the plans for
this year?� I asked.

	She glanced up at me, giving a charming smile that
warmed something deep inside of me.   �Just a moment. 
 I need to finish organizing my notes.   It�s more
efficient to take a moment after class than to spend
fifteen at home trying to straighten things out�.�

	�You�re so conscientious,� I said.   I usually didn�t
bother.   I was one of those naturally gifted students
who relied on my astonishing memory retention rather
than notes- Miyazawa looked like she was far more
organized than I was.   

	�Thank you,� she said politely, tugging a few strands
of stray hair behind her right ear.  She finished
quickly and shut her notebook before producing an
empty one and flipping to a blank page.   �I�ll keep
notes,� she volunteered.

	�Thanks.�   

	�No problem.   I talked to Kawashima-sensei and he
says that the student government here has a lot of
responsibility.�  She looked down at her paper.  
�After next week, we�re going to be in charge of
assigning the classroom clean up, flower duty, and
making sure our class has representatives on each
committee.  Then we have to work on the class trip,
school festival�� She kept listing our
responsibilities, and I nodded thoughtfully, watching
how she ticked off points on her slender fingers.

	I waited until she had completed the list before
speaking.   �Do you want to do sign-up sheets or
should we assign duties?� I asked.

	She looked thoughtful.   �Sign up sheets would give
people more choice in their duties, but it�d make more
work for us, and it�d be more inclined to unfairness. 
 A rotating schedule might be the best thing to do.  
If someone doesn�t like, say, flower duty, they can
trade with a friend when it�s their turn.�

	�Or do it anyway,� I said.   �We all have to do
things we don�t like.�

	�Arima-kun has things he doesn�t like?� Miyazawa
asked in surprised.   �That seems surprising to me- I
would have thought he liked everything he did.�

	I laughed- I couldn�t help myself.   �Hardly.   What
about you, Miyazawa-san?�

	She tapped her pen thoughtfully against her chin.  
�I like everything I do!� she said cheerily.   �I have
to- otherwise I�d go crazy!  If I�m able to like what
I�m doing, then everything is a lot more fun!�

	The smile that lit her lips turned her from merely
pretty into someone who was beautiful.   My breath
caught.

	I envied her confidence and pleasure in life.

	I blinked for a second to dismiss the thought.  
There was no reason for me to envy anyone.   I was
first in the class, a respected student, and had
become one of the school�s premier kendoists.  
Everything I did was perfect; I made sure of that.  
Still, Miyazawa was the same, and she seemed to enjoy
it.

	Was I missing something? 

	She didn�t notice my contemplative moment.  Her hands
were drawing out a pen (the messy kind- thick ink that
was nearly impossible to keep from splattering) and a
sheet of efficient looking notepaper.  �How should we
organize this schedule?   I don�t like alphabetical�
it always sticks the kids with the A names in the
front�� she gave a grin to me.

	The fact had never bothered me, as I was always
assigned extra work and I hadn�t noticed, but I
supposed she was right.   �Reverse it then?� I
suggested.

	She shook her head, and a stray wisp of hair fell it
her eyes.  I placed my hands squarely on the desk to
resist the temptation to brush it out of her way, a
sensation I was unfamiliar with.   �No, people do that
pretty often in an attempt to be fair.�  She tapped
the back of her pen against her chin before neatly
drawing a chart, her freehand lines looking as though
they�d been drawn with a ruler.   Predictably enough,
she didn�t smudge her ink at all.

	Everything about Miyazawa Yukino was perfect.

	She wrote down all the duties and corresponding
weeks, and created the spot for five rotating teams.  
�We�ll have people sign up in groups- that way they
can work with friends.   We�ll assign teams to
different tasks and they can fight it out among
themselves� you and I can mediate if it becomes a
problem.�

	�I thought you didn�t want to make this too
complicated?� I asked, curiously.   That stray strand
of hair was still there, tempting me.

	�We have to show we trust our classmates� and we�re
high school students now.   We can handle this
ourselves.�   She finished the lines and looked down
at them.   �Did I miss anything?�

	The sheet was flawless as I examined it.   �It�s
perfect.�

	She seemed to glow under my praise for a second
before a blush crept up her cheeks.

	That was the first time I spoke to Miyazawa.  

	She was perfect.
	
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

	To my slight surprise, there was little fighting over
the assignments of groups.   Miyazawa wisely said that
we should wait till last to fill any blanks, and that
worked fairly well.   Most of the girls would have
wanted to be with us, and by not choosing until last,
Miyazawa and I headed off an argument right then and
there.  The few times arguments looked imminent,
Miyazawa calmed them by offering to listen to both
parties complaints and then making a judgement.  
Strangely, no one wanted to look childish in front of
her, so the fights fizzled away.

	I liked that.   For once I wasn�t the one who was
acting as the mediator.   It was a relief- despite my
popularity, I was, at heart, an introvert.   Having
someone else to carry the burden was a novel
experience I found I could enjoy.  I smiled at her as
she collected the completed list and handed it to me
to check.   �I don�t see any problems.  We�ll appoint
a group leader, and they can sort out the problems.� 
She wrote down her name in one of the blank spaces,
and filled my name in the other without reading over
which students were in the groups first.

	�We should lead our groups,� I said.   �Otherwise
there would be authority problems.�

	�Agreed.�

	Predictably enough, the groups that had us as members
were the ones that functioned the best.  Miyazawa�s
gentle guidance was welcome by all her classmates, and
her hands seemed able to turn to any task, and make it
turn out perfectly.    I began to value her, for she
always seemed to be on top of things, even when I
couldn�t be.   Kendo was taking up more time than I
would have liked, but I was doing well at it.

	I did well at everything, though.

	Miyazawa had the air of older sister to her, and
people respected her.   I noticed how she always
seemed to be in the right place, at the right time,
for whenever she was needed.   Her grades were
stellar, and a part of me wondered which of us would
hold the first rank in class.  I wasn�t sure if that
bothered me or not- she was worthy competition, and I
found myself actually working harder then was
customary for myself, determined to prove that I was,
indeed, who I seemed to be.

	Meeting Miyazawa made me realize that they were truly
perfect people in the world; it was as though she held
up a mirror for me to see myself.   I was afraid to
look into it.

	Kendo was where I knew I had no competition.   Even
my sempai were unable to touch me when I truly brought
my focus to bear.   They didn�t understand why I was
not more proud of my accomplishments in the dojo.  

	They didn�t understand that violence was as natural
to me as breathing.  My triumph was of a more personal
nature, keeping the temper I had never seen, but felt
brim below the surface.   Between matches, I would
often touch the pleats of my hakama, hoping that
through some weird form of osmosis, the virtues they
represented would truly become mine.

	Still, balancing my duties was sometimes trying, and
occasionally I�d need to take some time to myself, to
recuperate.   It was draining, at times, to be
perfect.  It was one of those days, early in the term,
that I found the sakura grove.

	That early day in April, I managed to elude my usual
followers, claiming I had some reading to do- which
was true, but it wasn�t reading for school.   My
father had given me a copy of Ogura Hyakunin Isshu,
and I was looking forward to some time alone to
reading it.   I liked poetry, though I had little
talent at writing it. 

	With my bento in one hand, and my book in the other,
I took off across the campus, and amazingly, I managed
to avoid people.   I didn�t have a particular
direction, so I let my feet take me where they wood.  
And that�s where I found myself in the sakura grove,
all the way across the river.

	The trees were all in bloom, their pale pink blossoms
scenting the air with the unique fragrance that so
many people associated with the Orient.   I stared up
at the branches, marveling at the brief beauty that
was so fragile, and so much a part of my culture.   I
shut my eyes and inhaled the rich aroma, and let it
carry me away.

	This was the perfect place for lunch.

	I sat down and ate leisurely, flipping through the
poems at random, puzzling over the phrases, and
murmuring the ones that really struck me aloud.  I
smiled over a few, but most of them were melancholy.  
Leaning against the trunk of the largest tree, I set
the book down and fell down into the fragrant grass.  
 If there was a heaven, I would wager it looks very
much like that sakura grove did that day.  

	The time past quickly, and at some point I fell
asleep.   It was just so peaceful, and I believe I
could have slept for an entire day, if I hadn�t heard
the chime of the fifth period bells.  

	�Shoot!   Fifth period!� I murmured to myself,
grabbing the jacket I had shucked off at some point.  
I raced towards the building, but I knew that I would
be late to the science lecture� hardly the impression
I wanted to make.  �I�m sorry,� I apologized, and
explained what had happened, knowing it wasn�t likely
to pass muster.  It was the first time I was in
trouble in ages, but I still felt ashamed.

	My parents would be disappointed.

	The teacher wasn�t pleased with me.   �You�ll do the
cleaning up after class,� he informed me, whacking me
upside the head with a thick file of folders as a
reprimand, informing me that this wasn�t the behavior
he had been expecting from the representative of my
class.   I really couldn�t blame him, and my face
flushed a brilliant red as my classmates laughed.  
There�s always a joy in seeing one of the perfect
students make a mistake, no matter how much you may
admire them.

	I started to put my jacket on, but the rich blackness
of the fabric brought out the pale pink petals which
still clung to me.   �Oh, wow, Arima-kun!   Cherry
Blossoms!� one of my classmates exclaimed.

	I smiled at him, though I didn�t really feel it.   My
lunch had been one of those few private times I could
steal for myself, and I resented their intrusion into
it.   Still, I decided to make the best of it, since I
knew that they wouldn�t leave me alone.   After all,
it was part of being who I was- people wanted to be
part of me, and have me with them always.  I explained
where I had been, and two of my classmates nearly
started crying.   �You should�ve invited us along!�
they chastised me.

	�Sorry, sorry,� I apologized, waving my hands
defensively and smiling, even though I didn�t feel an
ounce of regret.   I had enjoyed my time alone.

	�Then how about we have a flower viewing with the
class?�

	�Let�s go all out!�

	�Oh, good idea!�

	�And bring sweets and stuff!�

	I listened to them ramble for a minute, a stone
weighing my stomach down.   It seemed that no place I
had could be truly private.  Sooner or later, it was
invaded by others, seeking to share in the glow they
thought they perceived from me.   I knew what was
coming, and sure enough�.

	�Hey, Arima!   You come along, too!�

	�Right!�

	I gave the gracious smile they expected of me.  
�Yeah, sure,� I agreed easily enough.

	�If Arima-kun is going, then so am I!� I heard a girl
squeal, and soon enough, all the girls were clamoring
to join our expedition, which I assumed had been the
other boys� plan.   Girls tended to follow me wherever
I went, and that made other guys want to be around me.
 I hated it, since it made me feel like a thing,
rather than a person.

	Still, I maintained the smile they expected of me.

	The final bell came soon enough, and I headed to the
science lab for clean up duty.   I nodded at people on
the way, but I noticed that no one was eager to help
me with my punishment- not that I minded.   I was
amused, though.   Fair-weather friends� it seemed the
school was full of them.

	I rolled up my sleeves and turned to the sink full of
used lab equipment.   Cleaning the science lab wasn�t
anyone�s favorite duty- it required attention and
precision, and slovenliness wasn�t tolerated in the
least.   At the beginning of term, the sensei had
given lectures about reagents being left in the bottom
of beakers, and the damage that it could cause- and
the cost of replacement that students would be
expected to pay.   

	I had never broken one, but my friends had broken
everything from stirrers to Bunsen burners, though I
had no idea how they had managed that.   Still, no
matter how careful I was, the beakers and vials
rattled as I shifted them in the sink, cleaning them
in the sudsy liquid.

	I heard the door open, but I ignored it, assuming it
was a student who had forgotten something, or the
sensei.   To my intense surprise, a light feminine
voice came from behind me.   �Arima-kun!�  I turned to
see Miyazawa Yukino standing there, barrettes in her
reddish brown hair and a pleasant expression on her
pretty face.   She had set her schoolbag down on the
lab table, and seemed ready to stay for a while.  
�Oh, you don�t have to do that!� she informed me.   �I
have cleaning duty today.�

	�Miyazawa-san,� I said with a smile.  I knew that she
has seen my assignment, so it was no mistake on her
part showing up.   Still, it was very like her.   She
took her responsibilities seriously, and I felt a
warmth spread through me.  �That�s okay, I brought
this on myself,� I said softly.  Still, a part of me
didn�t want her to leave, so I decided to ask her for
a favor.   �Maybe you could put them on the shelf for
me?�  It wasn�t that much, but it would keep her
there.  It was the first time I actually sought
another�s company- I didn�t recognize why at the time,
though.

	Strangely, Miyazawa�s presence didn�t bother me the
way the others did.   Perhaps it was because of the
entire school, she was the only one who didn�t need to
hold into me in an attempt to become a part of me.  
She had her own radiance; she didn�t need mine.

	Her dark eyes were serious as they met my own.  
�Okay,� she said dubiously, �but I still feel bad
about it,� she confessed.

	Most students in her position would have rejoiced
over their luck at getting out of the onerous chore,
but that wasn�t Miyazawa�s way.  She would have done
it for me, and helped me escape my punishment, however
deserved it might have been.  

	I finished the washing as quickly as I could, and
Miyazawa patiently waited for me, every now and then
glancing at a pile of papers that she had left outside
of her bag.   As I wiped my hands dry, she reached out
and picked them up, glancing over them.   I admired
her profile briefly, before turning my attention to
the work she held.  I recognized them almost
immediately as the Student Council work we were to
share, and offered to take half.

	She seemed slightly embarrassed.   �Uh� but.. I
already did it myself, so�.�

	I felt myself almost gurgle in shock before I
blurted, �WHAT?  All of it?  Yourself?�  She flushed
slightly, and I realized my attitude had been
insulting.   I wasn�t used to other people carrying
the load with me, and even though I had seen that
Miyazawa was a competent person, I hadn�t internalized
that yet.

	�Yes, I had some time, so�� she trailed off, looking
at me directly.   It was refreshing how she did that-
most girls just simpered or blushed- Miyazawa had a
direct gaze.

	Now I felt embarrassed about neglecting my duties-
the first time I ever remember that happening.   �I�m
sorry,� I apologized.   �I couldn�t come this morning
because of club activities��

	�Oh, no,� Miyazawa said.   �That�s okay� besides you
helped me clean up.�  She tilted her head charmingly
and gave me a beatific smile.  �Thank you.�

	I was startled when I felt my heart beat loudly,
before I returned it- a genuine smile.   It was my
first real smile of that day.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~	

	I thought about Miyazawa most of the evening, and I
think I dreamed about her, though I don�t recall what
those dreams were.   I think I was glad that was the
case� it was one of those dreams that adolescent males
are plagued with, and I was well-overdue for a fantasy
or two about a classmate.   And by choosing Miyazawa,
I had proven that I was perfectly ordinary guy, when
it came down to the baser instincts.

	Miyazawa was the prettiest girl in class, after all.

	I met her outside the shoeboxes.  She was holding her
outdoor shoes in one hand, and rummaging through her
box with another.   I noticed how she pulled out two
love letters, looked at them for a second, before I
opened my own.   To my relief, today was one of those
rare days when I didn�t have any inside waiting for
me.   I looked at her as she blushed at me slightly.  
�Admirers?� I inquired.

	�You should know,� she teased me playfully.   �Maybe
one of these was put into my box by mistake?� she
suggested.

	�Um. I doubt it�� I said, though it was a
possibility.   When I had been in junior high, it had
happened about four times- misdirected love letters.  
The result of one of the incidents had been downright
hilarious, but once the poor girl had been so
humiliated she had transferred schools.

	The human heart is a funny thing.

	With a sigh, she pulled on her indoor shoes onto her
feet before turning to the letters with slightly tired
eyes.   She opened one, read it quickly, then opened
the other.   Miyazawa looked thoughtful for a minute
before she opened a day planner and scribbled a few
notes in it.   I wanted to ask her who they were from,
but I knew it was none of my business.  

	I wanted to take them out of her hands and shred them
to pieces.

	I was startled by the urge.  I barely knew her.

	She gave me a smile.   �Do you know Enomoto-kun?� she
asked.

	I blinked.   �Isn�t he in class D?� I asked.

	Miyazawa frowned thoughtfully.   �I think so� I just
can�t place the face to the name,� she confessed, and
then she looked guilty.   �I�m supposed to meet him at
lunch.�

	I almost offered to go with her.

	Stupid me.

	Miyazawa could handle herself.   She gave me a smile.
  �Chiyako-san still isn�t dating anyone, is she?� 

	�Not that I know of��  A week ago Asano Chiyako had
given me a love note, and as far as I knew, she still
hadn�t recovered from my gentle rejection enough to
pursue another boy.

	�Hmm� I think she�d get along nicely with Tamura-kun�
maybe I should redirect his attention that way,� she
mused aloud, tapping her pen against her chin.

	�Redirect?� I echoed.

	She nodded.   �I really don�t think Tamara-kun and
I�d make a good couple- but he and Chiyako-san have a
lot in common, and she�s desperate for a date.�

	I smiled at her.   It had never occurred to me to
redirect the attention of my admirers, but Miyazawa
was a lot more considerate than I was.   I usually
just tried to turn girls (and the occasional guy) down
as gently as possible- Miyazawa tried to do something
constructive.   I really liked that.   It was
something to consider in the future, though I doubted
I�d have much luck as a matchmaker.  �Ready to go to
class?� I asked.

	�Hmm?� she said, slightly distracted as she put the
love notes safely in her bag.

	�Since we�re both heading that way, I thought we
could walk together?� I offered.

	�Oh, sure,� she said, shutting her shoebox and rising
to her feet in one lithe movement.   

	We walked down the hallway, and I was more aware than
ever of the stares that were following me� but these
stares were different.   They were speculative.   I
could hear the whispers.

	�Ne, ne� are Miyazawa-san and Arima-kun dating?�

	�Aren�t they a great looking couple?�

	�If Miyazawa-san starts dating Arima-kun, there�s no
hope for the rest of us��

	�They look perfect��

	We arrived at our room after talking about
inconsequential things, and she thanked me for the
escort before quickly heading to her desk to review
her notes before class.   She was such conscientious
student.

	I sat down at my own desk, and glanced across at her.
  The guys who usually hung around me materialized,
waiting for me to say something.   Unlike usual, I
voiced my actual thoughts, rather then censoring
myself.  �Miyazawa-san sure is great,� I said
admiringly.  �She seems good and I can�t find any
faults with her,� I confessed.   I had spent the
entire night before thinking about her, wondering why
I was becoming obsessed, and came to the conclusion
that it was because she was everything I wanted.  

	Perfection.

	The thing I sought most of all.

	�Incredible that such a person exists�� I mused,
almost whispering.

	I had almost forgotten my audience.

	Two of them looked at me with disbelief and no small
amount of disgust.  �HUH?� They pouted- actually
pouted.

	�What are you saying, Arima?� the first one asked.

	�It�s like you�re describing about yourself�.� The
second one echoed.

	�Huh?� I said.   I had been thinking of Miyazawa, not
myself.   I did not see myself as perfect- merely as
someone who worked hard to maintain a good image and
good relations.

	They immediately started to tick off the qualities I
worked so hard to present to the world.

	�You topped the entrance exam!�

	�You�re great at sports!�

	�You�re handsome!�

	�Your personality is good!�

	�In all, you�re the most popular person in class!�

	�YOU�RE PERFECT, AREN�T YOU?� they yelled, uncaring
of the attention they were attracting.

	�Eh?� I said, because I was unable to think of
anything saner to say.   The last thing I wanted was
for this uncomfortable spotlight to be shined on me.  
I didn�t want people to examine me too closely� for
fear they would see the emptiness and darkness within.

	One of them started yanking out his hair, and I
fleetingly wondered if he was going to give himself
bald patches. �How can you be impressed by somebody
else?� he yelled, spinning around comedically

	The other looked at me like he thought I was nuts. 
�Didn�t you know that everybody in this school knows
about you, Arima?� he asked my solicitously, the way
he would have ask a man in his dotage.

	�R-really?� I stammered.   I didn�t like all this
attention, though it was what I was used to.   I could
feel Miyazawa�s eyes on me from across the room, and I
wished I could explain to her that I wasn�t asking for
this.   I doubted that she would approve- Miyazawa
didn�t strike me as the type who would approve of this
sort of foolishness.

	�Like a perfect match for Miyazawa-san!� the first
one declared.   I could hear the hearts in his voice,
and I prayed to whatever deity was listening that
Miyazawa hadn�t heard him.   From the tense set of her
shoulders, I was willing to wager the family business
she had.   

	�You got that right!� the second agreed loudly, and I
wished for some pit to open under my feet and swallow
me.

	No such luck

	They continued, unaware of my fervent desire for some
natural disaster to strike.  �I like Miyazawa-san!�

	�Me, too!�

	Then I felt it.   The darkness stirred within me, and
I gripped the desk tightly.

	Dammit, she wasn�t theirs.

	They had no right to embarrass her that way.   I
could see the heavy blush on her cheeks, and I knew
that she could hear everything.

	Those damn idiots.

	One of them hit me upside the head playfully, and it
distracted me from my brief surge of anger.   �Hey,
all the girls are going for you!�

	�Damn you!� the other teased.

	�Haven�t any confessed yet?� the first wanted to
know, and again that blush covered my cheeks.

	I remained quiet, just smiling at them.   It really
was none of their business who had confessed their
heart to me, and I wasn�t about to betray those girls.
  It took a lot of courage to share your feelings� and
I respected them

	�Argh, dammit!� the first one swore at me.   �I
really should be upset at you!�

	I blinked in surprise as the second one chimed in,
speaking to the first.   �But it�s like you can�t
dislike Arima.�

	�You�re not as bad as another boy, you�re really
incredible!� The first one assured me.

	My smile became more genuine, but the tension in
Miyazawa�s slender body bothered me.   I would have
been embarrassed to hear myself spoken of in such a
fashion, and I couldn�t blame her.

	Still, when I saw her after school that day and tried
to apologize, she shrugged it off.  �Miyazawa-san?� I
called, trying to get her attention.

	She was seated at her desk, organizing her notes as
was her habit immediately after class.   I straddled
the seat in front of her desk, so I could face her.  
�I just wanted to apologize for this morning�� I
began.

	She was silent for a minute before she capped the
messy pen she preferred and looked up at me.   �It�s
okay,� she assured me, before giving me the gentle
smile I had come to expect from her.   �I�m used to
it- didn�t you see the love letters I got this
morning?� she asked.

	�Yes, but�� I began.   I really wanted to apologize
to her.

	She reached out and touched my hand briefly, her
smile unflagging.   �It�s really okay,� she assured
me.   �It�s flattering to be liked, I guess�� she
said, though her tone wasn�t entirely sure.

	�Do you ever accept any of the invitations?� I
blurted out suddenly.

	She blinked at me, before a secretive smile found her
lips.  �Do you?� she retorted.

	�No��

	�Neither do I�� she said softly.

	�Why not?� I asked.

	She looked thoughtful as she packed her bag.  
�There�s a few reasons, but I suppose the main one is
because the boys who ask me aren�t really interested
in Miyazawa Yukino.   They just want to make their
friends jealous.�

	�You really believe that?� I asked in disbelief.   I
was surprised that she was so cynical.

	Her smile faded from her lips.   �Sometimes.   People
always want what others covet,� she said.  �What about
you?

	I wanted to deny her logic, but I couldn�t.   None of
the girls who asked me out knew who I was- they were
just interested in me because of my looks or my class
ranking.    �I haven�t accepted anyone, either,� I
admitted.

	�See?� she said, rising to her feet.   �Anyway, don�t
you have practice today?� she asked.

	I glanced at my watched.   �I have about fifteen
minutes,� I lied.   In reality, I already should be
there, but the Kendo captain would give me a little
slack.  �How did you know?�

	�Well, I was hoping to meet with you today for the
student council work, but that won�t work.�

	�I can help tomorrow,� I said hurriedly.   I didn�t
want Miyazawa carrying all the work.   There was a lot
of it, especially since the Student Council assigned
extra to our class, since I had been the Class
Representative, and Miyazawa had entered as the Number
2 student.  

	�But�� she began to protest.

	�Really!   Tomorrow, after class, we�ll do it
together!� I said, grabbing my bag and disappearing
before she could argue.

	Tomorrow couldn�t come soon enough, for me.

	That night I dreamt again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

	Miyazawa and I had a mountain of paper work to be
done.   

	For some reason, the brilliant minds of the Student
Council had given us twenty copies of ten-page forms
to be filled out- by hand.   It would have made more
sense to fill in most of the similarities before
photocopying, but the Student Council Secretary had
never been the sensible sort.   

	So we had two hundred pages of forms to fill in, many
of them with differences so minute that only the
trained eye would catch it.   It was tedious work, but
I was glad to be sharing it with Miyazawa, even though
I knew she would gladly do it on her own.   She was
considerate, like that.   I appreciated it.

	Her hand writing was as neat as ever as she began to
fill in her half, and I made a point to be just as
neat.   There was something about her that drove me. 
I noticed how she flipped through the papers quickly,
setting them down neatly so they could dry.   She was
still using the messy pen, rather than the ballpoint
that would have been more practical.

	I liked that about her.   It was elegant.

	Finally we were done with the monotonous task- it had
only taken an hour.  Miyazawa rose to her feet and
organized the staked, the papers rustling as she did
so.   �Well, then.  Twenty copies of each of these,�
she stated.   She sounded satisfied.

 I heaved a sigh of relief.  �I�m exhausted,� I
admitted, wanting to talk to her, but unable to think
of a subject.

She gave my a sympathetic smile.   �It must be
terrible for you, Arima-kun.�

It made me smile at her in return.   Only Miyazawa
would have empathy for someone like me, when she had
such burdens of her own.   �What about you,
Miyazawa-san?� I asked, wanting to know about her.   I
really didn�t know that much about her.   �Aren�t you
busy with council work and studies?�

�Well, sort of,� she admitted.  �But I don�t think
about it much anymore.   Besides, I�ve always been
doing this stuff, so I�m used to it.�

I knew the feeling.   �So you�re the council president
type, too, Miyazawa-san,� I said.   I would have
wagered anything that she had been the Student Council
President in Junior High, like I had.  �How can people
tell?� I wondered.   �It�s like you�re always fated to
be selected for these things,� I joked, though
underlying it was a slight dash of frustration.   
Miyazawa merely smiled and said nothing, and I
wondered how this girl, who on the surface was so
similar to me, managed to be so different underneath. 
 �Was Hokuei your first choice, Miyazawa-san?� I
asked.   I wanted to know how she had ended up coming
here.

�Yes,� she said simply.

�Why?� I said, then felt pressed to offer more
explanation for my nosiness.  �I mean, aren�t you
really intelligent?  I�d�ve thought you could have
applied to your choice of private schools, or
something��

Her face became tranquil.   �Well, I have two younger
siblings� and besides� � she said, and a smile lit her
pretty features, �I�ve decided not to invest any money
in my studies.   I want to minimize the financial
burden on my parents- and maximize my studies relative
to that.�

It startled me.

	I had never really considered her motivations, but
she was such a caring daughter- and a determined
person.   If anyone could get the most out of the
public school system, it would be Miyazawa.   It made
me feel guilty for coming to Hokuei- if I wasn�t
there, then Miyazawa would shine, unopposed.

	The way she deserved to.

	She didn�t seem to notice my distraction.   �Studying
with that in mind hardens my will!� she informed me
cheerfully.   It�s really interesting to study when
you have a goal.�

	I had never thought of my studies as interesting,
merely as something expected of me.  �So mature,� I
whispered.

	�Well, I think this because we�re not very wealthy,�
she said, and she was not envious of me, although she
had to know that my family owned a hospital.  �If we
had money to spare, I would have wanted to go to a
private school,� she confessed, �since it seems like
fun!�  She went on to describe the advantages, before
turning the table on me.   �What about Arima-kun?� she
asked.

	�Eh?�

	I was used to people asking me questions, but usually
there was some ulterior motive behind them.   Miyazawa
was genuinely curious, and I doubted it was because of
a romantic interest in me.  �Your parents run a
hospital, right?   I think it�s strange that someone
like you comes to a public school.�

	Miyazawa was the first one who told me that to my
face.

	Normally someone of my background and abilities would
have gone to a prestigious private school.

	But I have chosen not to.

	My motives, though, were nowhere near as noble as
hers, as I had no clue had to voice them.  �Yeah� me
too.   I have the same reasons as you, I guess,� I
said.

	It was the truth, in a way.

	I didn�t want to be a burden to my family.

	They had done enough for me.

	�I guess we�re both just stingy!� she declared. 
Miyazawa started giggling� and then exploded into
laughter, a genuine sound that made me join in.   Her
clear eyes shocked me, and I noticed, for the first
time, that the woman who stood beside me had no
uncertainties.

	I wanted that.

	She chose everything for herself, and had her own way
of life.

	She lived without shame or fear.

	Miyazawa�

	It was totally unlike my usual self- just her profile
at that moment, how it left an impression.

	I wanted to know her.

	I watched her leave, after giving me a graceful wave.
  I stood for a second, before leaning against the
desk.   I needed the support to collect myself.   The
last week I had found myself fascinated by her, but�
today�

	I had realized it.

	I wanted to know what she was thinking.

	I wanted to ask her about various things.

	Did she ever have worries or uncertainties, too?

	Did she feel like she was carrying isolation?

	I wanted to know�

	�more.  And more.
	
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

	The next day I opened my shoebox to find one of those
dreaded love letters.

	I hated receiving them, for unlike Miyazawa, I
couldn�t deal with them gracefully.  All I could do
was turn them down, and try to make the lame excuse
that I wanted to focus on my studies- or something.

	There was ice within my soul, ice that no ordinary
girl could melt.

	Their feelings of adoration couldn�t reach mine, and
while I knew I should feel horrid for breaking their
hearts, all I felt was empty.  There was an isolation
around me, as always.

	I took the letter out, noting the familiar hearts on
it.   It asked for me to meet them after school, by
the row of cherry trees.

	I resented that.

	I had come to think of the cherry trees as my special
place, my place of peace in school.

	It was an intrusion.

	Still, I put the letter into my book bag, as Miyazawa
had done to her own a few days before, and pushed it
to the back of my mind.   Classes went as usual, and
all too soon, the final bell rang, letting me know
that I had a meeting to attend.

	I waved off the usual invitations to join my
classmates in their after school pursuits, and headed
for the sakura grove.   I wasn�t particularly
concerned by who had invited me- I didn�t really care.
  All I was thinking was what excuse I should use this
time.   Schoolwork?   Kendo?   Student Council?

	I saw a girl�s silhouette leaning against a tree, and
this was when I made my first mistake.

	�Um�� I said, trying to get her attention.  She spun
around, startled.  It was like a scene from a dream.

	The flower petals fell around us, and their sweet
perfume filled the air, making me feel alive with
their heady fragrance.   The light pink of their
blossoms brought out the startled blush of the girl�s
cheeks, and the girl�s wide eyes transfixed me.

	One thought hit me like a ten-ton weight:
Miyazawa-san likes me?!

	Joy flowed through me, genuine, unadulterated joy.  
It was something I had not known before, and it was a
feeling I wished I could grab and hold onto forever.

	A deep flush worked its way onto my face.   I had
been preparing to reject the girl�s feelings, but I
didn�t want to reject Miyazawa.  I started to stammer,
but was interrupted.

	�Excuse me,� a quiet voice said from behind, and I
spun around, to face another of my insipid admirers.
�I�m sorry for making you wait��

	Miyazawa seemed to come to life, and the moment was
broken.   �Oh, were you meeting someone?� she asked. 
�I�m sorry, I just wanted to look at the cherry
blossoms��

	I watched in disbelief as she walked off, leaving me
besides the girl whose name I never did learn.  I had
been wrong- the letter hadn�t been from Miyazawa- and
I deeply regretted that fact.

And that was the first time I knew I was in love.

Notes: 

The pleats in the traditional Hakama represent five
virtues: benevolence, justice, manners, wisdom and
trustfulness.  

Ogura Hyakunin Isshu is a collection of 100 poems, all
of them pretty classic.  English Translations are
available:
http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/japanese/hyakunin/ 

Some of the dialogue in this fic comes directly from
the manga project�s translation, on Dalnet.  I changed
a few words here and there for the purpose of the
flow, but most of the scenes that came from the manga
borrow heavily�. Thanks to Mi-chan for helping me get
it!

Also, some of the dialogue is borrowed from a fansub-
Elysia gave it to me, but I�m not sure which sub she
used- it�s not the same one I have�. Ely also gets
credit on this one as my beta.

As always, feedback is strongly encouraged.   I keep
jumping fandoms, and have no clue what people think,
usually, and no idea what types of fanfic people
prefer.   Due to my multitude of projects *runs from
Raye Johnsen*, it becomes nessessary for me to pick
and choose what to work on, and FB does help me
determine which genres I focus on.   Also, do you
notice any consistent mistakes/things you hate?   I'm
finally learning that character is spelled with two
a's, and thanks to people point it out, I've also
learned the than/then difference... usually!  
Anything else about my writing urk you?

~Aishuu

=====
It would be nice if we could
put away and throw out
everything except what really mattered
but reality is just cruel.

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Quicksilver/
http://www.midnightrevolution.org/gundam

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