06 | NOT Willing

You know that feeling you get when someone says something and you know right there and then that shit's going to hit the fan? Yeah, that's what I feel the moment I sit down at the lunch table with the upperclassmen and Kasamatsu requests a favor from me.

"What is it?" I ask cautiously.

Kasamatsu hesitates, and I die a little on the inside. This can't be good. "Suzuki-san, can you tutor Kise in English?"

I blink. Then I blink again. I glance around the table, hoping to see someone sniggering under a napkin like this is all some sort of prank. No one's laughing. Kobori's shuffling through papers, and Hayakawa's preoccupied shoveling rice down his throat.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I finally say. I lose my appetite and start pushing the macaroni on my plate around with my fork. "We fight like cats and dogs."

"I know that, but if he doesn't pick up his English grade then he can't play." Kasamatsu sighs. He takes the papers from Kobori and hands them to me. "Look for yourself."

I pale upon seeing the grades. 41, 19, 33, 26. The highest score is a 47.

"Can't someone else do it? Me and Kise don't exactly get along, you know," I remind him. It's the understatement of the year. Every time Kise and I get within ten feet of each other, an argument breaks out over petty things. This morning we fought over whether caramel or vanilla coffee tastes better. Of course the answer is caramel.

Kasamatsu's brows furrow, and he frowns. "No guy wants to deal with him, and every girl who volunteers will be too busy staring at him to help. You're a native speaker, too; you're the perfect fit."

The thought of trying to shove English down Kise's narcissistic throat makes my head ache. I can picture it already. Whatever room we'll be in will go up in flames just like the vending machine (maybe that was a forewarning, now that I think about it). In a clash between a volcano and tornado, nothing will come unscathed. It's a recipe for apocalyptic disaster.

But the genuine worry in Kasamatsu's dark eyes stops me from calling him crazy. At only eighteen-years-old, fine lines are beginning to show on his features. How stressed out does this upperclassman get? As a loving junior, it should be my responsibility to help him out. Maybe he'd get a good night's rest then. The last thing I need to do is turn my back on one of the only people who will talk to me.

Then an idea sparks. This tutoring deal could work in my favor, too. Kise would definitely owe me for saving his sorry-ass grades.

I half-smile. "Ok, I'll help, but Kise has to do something for me in return."

"Great!" Kasamatsu's grin drops just as fast as it appeared. He glares at the table and clenches his jaw. "Now I have to tell off that dumbass..."

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"What? No way!"

I roll my eyes into the back of my head as Kise shrieks like a banshee at Kasamatsu. The captain holds his forehead as the blond spits out every excuse he can think of. I fold my arms across my chest as I watch the show, criticizing Kise's childish ways. It's a miracle his fan club hasn't witnessed his temper tantrums yet. Yet knowing them, they'd most likely find his crying 'sweet' and 'endearing.'

"If you don't raise your grade, you'll be suspended from the team," Kasamatsu says, his voice tight and cross.

Kise returns, "Why can't I find a different tutor then? Anybody but her." He tosses his hand out at me, and I bristle. The nerve of this guy thinking I'm the problem in this situation.

"You lost your privilege of making choices the moment you decided not to study." A shadow falls across Kasamatsu's face, signaling he's done playing around. His body tenses. One more quip and Kise's going to get kicked across the gym. "Suzuki will be your tutor."

I walk forwards, taking that as my cue. Raising my chin, I stare Kise in the eyes and say, "You heard him. Also, I have a condition for helping you. This isn't free."

Kise scoffs. "What do you want? A signed photo-book? Designer shoes to kick more vending machines?"

"Shut up," I snap, feeling heat crawl up my neck at the last suggestion. "No, I want you to admit to everyone that you were part of the vending machine fiasco."

Kise's face contorts into a look full of shock and disgust. "What? No! I have a reputa—"

"Shut the hell up about your reputation!" I cut him off. "Either you clear my name or you can say 'goodbye' to your dumb basketball games and that Kokoro guy."

"It's Kuroko," he corrects, a surprising amount of anger in his hiss.

For a moment, I'm frozen still by the hatred hidden within him. My comment hit a nerve I thought Kise was impossible of having.

The menace groans and runs his hand through his hair, erasing that scary face. "Fine, I accept." He looks down at me, literally and metaphorically. "But this is for Kasamatsu-senpai and my old classmates, not you."

I put my hand over my heart, faking a loving smile. "Aww, thank you. Your words mean so much to me," I reply in a sickly sweet tone.

We engage in a glaring match, faces twisted into scowls and fists clenched at our sides. One sly comment is all it would take to turn the gym into a war zone.

Kasamatsu breaks it off, stepping between us and saying, "Stop that. I expect both of you"—he makes sure to give me a pointed look as if I'd forgotten I was part of this deal—"to work together and clean up Kise's mess."

So basically I'm Kise's maid then. An image pops into my mind of me wearing a maid's outfit while following Kise around. He'd laugh snobbishly and purposefully knock things over, telling me it was an accident and to clean it up. I'd have to pull the oldest trick in the book and poison him all murder-mystery-dinner-style then.

My musings keep me company as the team does their warm-ups. While they sprint and stretch, I prepare water bottles and towels for breaks. Netting splits the floor off into smaller sections with the half-court dedicated to the practice match. Seirin would be arriving soon, including Kise's Kuroko and the American, Kagami. I hope they haven't learned about my incident since yesterday.

It doesn't take long before Kise is guiding Seirin into the gym. Coach waves at me, telling me without words to greet them in his stead. I set the towels I was folding down and walk to them. Kise passes me on his way to Coach, shoving his shoulder against mine. I grit my teeth.

"Hello," I say, grinning.

Unlike yesterday, I fail to receive a warm welcome. Riko instead asks, "We're playing on a half-court?" Her face twitches.

I glance at Coach in his office where he's busy arguing with Kise who's begging to play against Seirin; I was never told half-court was a bad thing. "Yes." I gesture to the other side of the court. "We have our newer guys practicing over there, still."

The aura surrounding Seirin darkens.

"I'm sorry," I apologize.

"It's not your fault," Seirin's captain says, his glasses shining ominously. "Can you show us the way to the locker room?"

"Yeah, of course."

I lead them to their destination then go back to my bench and continue folding towels. Kise, of all people, plops down beside me and keeps an eye on the locker rooms like a hawk stalking its prey.

"We'll start tomorrow," he decides.

I nod. Giving an audible reply required effort Kise was undeserving of.

Ten minutes pass until the practice game starts. Somehow, Kasamatsu loses control of the ball and Kagami takes ahold of it. The redhead leaps as if he has a trampoline in his shoes and slam dunks... breaking the hoop off. Holy shit.

Everyone gasps in perfect synchronization. I stare at the wood-chips on the ground, thinking about how I'll have to clean that up. Kagami gapes at the hoop in his hand then holds it up and smirks. My annoyance fades some at the sight of his grin.

"Sorry, it seems that we broke the goal. Would you mind if we used the other half of the court?" Kagami says.

I crack a smile. I have to give it to him, the guy has spunk.

"I'll get the net," I volunteer. It looks like there's a lot more to basketball than what meets the eye.

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The buzzer screeches, signaling the end. Basketball players halt and stare at the score. A team erupts into victorious cheers and scream at the top of the lungs. Kise breaks down in tears.

Confusion fills me as Kise cries. The game was close with 100 points to 98. Is that what made defeat so bitter? Or is it because Kise can't stop staring at Kuroko and Kagami with green in his eyes? Maybe, I speculate, Kise and Kuroko used to be a thing and now he's sad to see him with Kagami. That has to be it. No one gets this upset over a practice match.

I trail after Kasamatsu to where the teams lined up to congratulate each other. Kagami's closest to me, so I nudge him and tease, "That was a great game and all, but did you really have to break our hoop to do it?"

He jumps, releasing a surprised grunt. His neck cranes to look at me, and he chuckles. "I didn't mean to. The board was old."

"Yeah, I'm sure it was." In all honesty, I have no idea how old anything in the school is, but I maintain my joking manner. "Next time just ask me to talk to the coach instead of wrecking public property."

The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them. I freeze, waiting for Kagami to reply something like 'Oh, so like you?'. But he doesn't. Instead, he laughs and continues on. I release a breath of relief. So Seirin doesn't know about my Crazy American status. It's a breath of fresh air.

"Where's Kise?" someone asks.

I scan the area, and sure enough, Kise is missing. I mutter under my breath, "I knew something was missing." There's no way Kise would've let me live after saying that to Kagami.

"Suzuki," Kasamatsu calls, "can you go find him?"

No, I'd rather die. "Yes," I answer.

After searching around for a bit, I find Kise outside by the sinks. He's drying himself with one of my towels, his back turned towards me. It isn't until I get closer that I see he's talking to a student from a different school. The stranger stands even taller than the model with striking green hair highlighted by his black outfit. And he's holding a stuffed frog in his hand.

Wait, a guy with colorful hair and strange get-up? He has to be a basketball player.

"Watch out!"

I yelp and jump out of the way of a guy speeding past me on—wait, is that a modern-day chariot? The contraption seems to be a bike with a huge wagon attached to the back. A guy wearing the same school uniform as Kise's basketball friend gasps for breath and curses as he pedals up to the players.

"Bastard!" the chariot driver cries. "You went on ahead when we were caught in a traffic jam. Do you know how embarrassing it was?"

My moves are hesitant as I near these weirdos. Kise's lifted brows and opened mouth means he's shocked by the display, too. Thank God this chariot crap isn't normal in his book. If it weren't, I'd be scared to know what was.

The green-haired guy ignores me and his ride, telling Kise, "A fate where we're defeated by Seirin is impossible. It's a shame, but you should give up on your revenge already."

And then he ruins his cool spiel by climbing into the wagon and snapping at his servant to start peddling. Kise and I watch in mass confusion as they ride off into the sunset. Well, not really. The sunset won't begin for another hour or so; the sky is still blue.

"Who is that?" I ask, breaking our stunned silence.

Kise replies, "An old schoolmate: Midorima Shintarō. He's from Shūtoku."

"I could tell he's related to you somehow." Kise raises a brow, and I gesture to his golden locks. "The hair. All your friends have rainbow hair."

The blond chuckles. Standing beside him, the signs he was crying is clearer than ever with his puffy eyes and pink nose. The sight causes me to hold my tongue. I can pick on him later, especially since we have to spend time together alone thanks to his dumbassery.

Kise better learn English as fast as he learns new basketball plays.

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Question of the Chapter

What's your best and worst subject in school?