Lines

He thinks it meaningless. He knows he will crumple it to pieces once he's finished and no one would ever know. He feels that when he writes, it is not because he has anything important to say. Only because the words have come. Only because they are comforting. So he weaves even though he knows the pattern is the same. So he plays the part in a story even though he knows it is but another retelling.

So he writes.

You are the flow,
the thread,
the rise and the fall
of everything.

See? The words do not make sense at all. Just that at this moment, they are his. If his heart is honest enough, he has to admit that these are the words he's giving to no one.

He hesitates.

I want to say I'm just imagining you. My brain is what's telling me you're there. You're an energy form, a stimulus I've somehow been exposed to. Is that what makes you real? Just because you are sensed, just because you are perceived. I don't think so. Even drugs can elicit that same effect.

And yet to me, you are that drug.

This time he does crush the letter with his fingers. The words will not do. They will never do at all. Head bent, he pockets his blue pen and walks away. He would have to dispose of the letter somehow. Some random student in a raucous, crowded hallway would surely note this particular piece of paper if he was to leave it behind. The probably of this happening was almost fate.

But what Fuji doesn't know is that gods are fickle, if they exist at all.

And that there are things more fated, if they occur at all.

**********

She was going to be late for band practice, if this was going to continue. Her friend Matsui Kira had always been a busy ant. A very thorough and slow-going busy ant. And right now, this fact was making antsy.

"Wait just a few nanoseconds." Kira's voice melodiously rang above the crackle of burning garbage. "I'm almost done."

"Almost done?!" knew this was not a good thing. 'Almost done' for her perfectly well-meaning but still, too easygoing friend could mean two hours of leisurely-paced work. She put her guitar down; jumped off from the steps and started unloading some of the trash bags Kira had been carrying to the bins. "Let me help you with these, my dear friend who I am going to kill in a most violent but perfectly clean manner if I arrive late again."

"Alright, alright." Kira said. "Just those bags and the ones I'm holding, really. We'll be done in no time, I promise."

didn't even have the time to roll her eyes when predictably, one of Kira's bags broke and the scraps of paper it contained scattered onto the ground. She sighed.

"I love you so much, Kira-chan." gritted her teeth while sorting out the pieces of paper. Thank God they didn't appear that gross; they were just scraps of office documents, test samples, and probably, indiscriminately-confiscated notes from her schoolmates. Come to think of it, this particular trash bag might prove to be a veritable source of gossip. She motioned to her friend. "Hey, Kira-chan. Listen to this."

"Hideki Jiro loves Miura Karin." and Kira giggled. They knew the couple. herself had seen them blushing madly at each other during class today.

"Here's another one. Yamamoto-sensei is such a hottie." Kira joined in the reading. "Sensei must have been embarrassed upon confiscating this. Can you imagine? Oh, here, here. This one's really good, . It's one of those school memos… Faculty and staff advisory. Here is the list of students who flout school rules and are known troublemakers. Let me see… Endo, Ena, Hayakawa, ooohh… . Why, , I never would have guessed. Look. Says you dye your hair in different colors, have multi-pierced ears, is always late, and that you lug an electronic guitar around campus even when you're not supposed to carry instruments outside the music lab. Wow, there's even a postscript written in bold… is an ill-bred, disrespectful girl who possesses a dragon of a temper. Anger management suggested."

"Meh. Tell me something I don't know." said. "Our headmaster just has it for me. Ever since I asked him how he kept his head so shiny." She browsed another mound of notes she had picked up. "Hmm… this one's interesting."

It was a wrinkled piece of India paper and on it were words and words of the English alphabet, beautifully written in blue ink.

**********

"I have a question." raised her hand. Her chin was comfortably resting on an array of unopened books on her desk. Her friend Kira was again at the board, solving yet another incomprehensible Math problem. Well, to her, at least. Kira didn't look like she was having any trouble at all. What pained and everybody in the class was the way Kira was holding the chalk, unhurriedly writing her answers.

"A query from -san." The teacher's raised eyebrow seemed like a permanent fixture on his face. "Will wonders ever cease? What is it this time? How much the cost of living is in Sumatra?" He continued, meanly. "Why your eyes are spaced so far apart on your face?"

"Not for you, Yamamoto-sensei. I know the cost of living in Sumatra because I have an uncle who lives there." smiled sweetly. "And my eyes are stunning, thanks. I do have a question for Miss Matsui here. Hey, Kira-chan! Darling! Are you almost done?"

"Just a minute, I promise." Kira predictably mumbled, still engrossed on the numbers that thought to have appeared mysteriously on the board. Was Kira channeling some kind of spooky algebraic magic? No matter. nodded her head on the books, satisfied. The delay meant at least thirty minutes of nap time.

"Matsui-san," the teacher said, the frustration in his tone making look up, descent to sleep interrupted. "Entertaining as this all is, we really don't have all day. Fuji-san," the teacher motioned to a student in 's row, "if you please."

"Hai."

's half-lidded eyes followed the slight but sure gait of her classmate who was called up to the board. Wasn't he one of those tennis players? Fuji Something. She wasn't sure since she never kept up with those things; she had long decided sports were of the devil, or at the least, a ridiculously torturous invention of the bald-headed headmaster. She narrowed her eyes, and unconsciously licked her upper lip. This guy might just be the thing to liven up the immense tedium of Trig class. Yes, fate must have declared that he be used for that purpose alone – he was now walking by her seat.

She wedged one leg towards the aisle, and waited for him to trip.

She waited.

And waited.

…

NOTHING.

He was already on his way to the board and yet NOTHING happened.

Fuji Something had just neatly dodged her Very Complicated, Very Twisted Genius Maneuverings. Granted it was just her sticking her leg, but the whole process was very spontaneous and yet, well-thought-out. I mean, what was but simultaneously spontaneous as well as well-thought-out? Okay, so that didn't make sense but what kind of person was this guy, anyway, to become so adept at Foiling Very Complicated, Very Twisted Genius Maneuverings?

She could see him neatly writing the answers on the board. Kira was staring, too, probably amazed by the quick strokes that her hand could never make. More spooky algebraic magic being wrought, lightning-fast. Like a katana slashing through the fields? A tennis racket skillfully brandished on the court? To , it was almost hypnotic.

"-san."

"Huh?"

"Your leg seems to be on the way."

realized that this Mr. Tennis Guy Whoever had already finished solving the board problems. He was presently standing in front of her, smiling so openly, his eyes seemingly half-closed, and just looking innocent as can be. Innocent, ha! She was going to offer a witty retort to this dubious stranger (because what was but witty) but his face was drawing closer now, strands of his dark hair brushing at her face lightly, and his lips, why – they were just right by her ear.

"-san," he whispered.

"Huh?" So much for witty. bit her lip. She didn't understand how a guy she had only truly noticed the first time could rattle her so. Was it the unexpected closeness, the wispy breathing…his very red lips?

"-san." Those nice lips were forming syllables.

"Gaah... gahh. Uhh… yeah?"

"Yamamoto-sensei wants you up front."

So thus a Thursday afternoon found : a lecturing Math teacher on her wake while she reflexively mouthed off swear words, an enigmatic smile on her peripheral vision, and an image of a pretty mouth now indelible from her mind.

**********

"Fuji. I think you dropped something," Tezuka said, reaching for a wrinkled piece of paper on the floor. "Is this anything important?"

"Ah." Fuji calmly took the troublesome item from his friend. Inside, he was panicking. "It's probably my formula sheet. We have a test next week. "

"I see." There was a faint hint of puzzlement in Tezuka's eyes. "You've been doing this a lot lately. I've never pegged you for someone who needs to list out – ah," his attention was drawn to a figure right beside Fuji's locker. "There's a girl standing by your locker."

She was a welcome distraction, whoever she was. He had no idea what she wanted but at least this way, Fuji was able to fend off Tezuka's probing inquiries. He ambled towards the girl while Tezuka followed suit. It seemed that the she was waiting for their arrival because she lethargically raised her hand to them in a wave.

"Fuji-san. Tezuka-san. Good morning."

"Ohayou, Matsui-san." Fuji and Tezuka greeted back.

"Is there something we can help you with?" Fuji asked. He could vaguely remember her in one of his classes and was secretly relieved to even have recalled her last name. Was she the one who was on the board, solving triangles the other day? She looked worried as she tugged at the hem of her blazer, eyeing them uncertainly. Fuji could see her sigh, almost decisively.

Matsui spoke. "Yes, actually. You guys simply have to come."

"To where?" Fuji ventured.

"To my friend's concert. It's going to be held at the loft of the faculty building in thirty minutes. It's jam-packed with people and we might even have to squeeze our way through. But you really have to go! This is one of those once-in-a-lifetime chances that you should never ever ignore!"

"Really?" Fuji asked, and with the looks of his friend, he knew that Tezuka was also skeptical with the idea. The girl was nodding vigorously, though, her eyes now wide with excitement.

"This is approved by the school, of course." Tezuka joined in the conversation, voicing his doubt.

"I wouldn't say it wasn't approved by the school," Matsui replied, her voice faltering.

"Isn't this hour still class time?" Fuji asked.

"Uhh… well. Yes. But this concert is for a very good cause!" Matsui was fidgeting. "I promise. It'll be worth your while."

She then abruptly tugged at the folds of their shirt, and proceeded to drag them towards the faculty building. Fuji was a bit taken aback by the action, but he shrugged his shoulders while Tezuka sighed.

"Who is this friend of yours, anyway?"

**********

It's a good day for a good song, thought to herself. She fumbled at her backpack, and there it was, among gum wrappers, tin foil, and doodled-paper. She leaned her back on the railing, popped a gum in her mouth, and examined the piece.

You are the flow,
the thread,
the rise and the fall
of everything.

She was by no means an expert on the English language but she knew enough. It was really a little known fact; her teachers would probably have been impressed if she showed skill regarding the subject but she didn't want to tarnish her reputation. She was supposed to be the class rebel. The troublemaker. Her knowing English would have been a bit of a contradiction. It just wasn't done.

She wondered, who in her year could have written these lines? She wondered what the person was talking about, or who. The words were just so heartfelt, yet cold and questioning, even accusatory.

She wondered if she herself could ever be a kind of inspiration that poets could write about. The kind that someone could dream about, think about, the kind that had such a force that drew people in so helplessly that they would actually fault her for their surrender.

Well. She wasn't very well-mannered or accomplished in many things. She didn't have any of the standard qualities people usually expected, especially from a girl. Her eyes were dullish-brown, her nose nondescript, and her lips though full, were pale, not even like those lips that she liked to think about from time to time. She felt her cheeks heat; she didn't have to think about those lips, they only belonged to an annoying guy in Math class.

sighed. It wasn't as if she didn't think herself good enough. She just wasn't sure if others would think she was good enough. But whatever, she didn't even know this guy. Who cared what he thought about her?

Pfft, enough of that. The frown on her face eased into a cheery grin.

Music was her drug. She picked up the piece of paper, and studying it again, hummed a strange and soulful tune. There was only one thing she could do.

**********

Matsui was making a little shushing signal as they neared the loft. Their footsteps quieted down as they walked on. Fuji could make out the silhouette of a female student, holding a guitar. She was leaning against the railing. Aside from her, and unlike what Matsui promised, there was no one else.

Matsui was still clutching at Tezuka but Fuji had already disentangled himself from the girl. He was going to walk to where the other girl sat, when this other girl began to sing.

And this girl could sing.

He froze. Fuji's chest seemed to tighten as he heard her voice ebb and flow. The music coming from her was like his best kept-secret, it hit the right notes in his soul, its occasional cacophony mirroring the anguish he felt through his writing. He was waxing poetic again, he knew, but she was heaviness and lightness, her voice a sweet smile, so sweet it could break your heart. Fuji could swear that right now; he could hear his heart breaking. It was fantastic.

The crescendo was almost over that Fuji held his breath in abeyance. He knew Matsui and Tezuka were doing the same, also transfixed with the song.

You are the flow,
the thread,
the rise and the fall
of everything.

Matsui's clapping was deafening to Fuji's ears. Did he just hear the words right? He stared at the singer, open-mouthed.

"What the hell? Kira-chan, my everlasting joy! You startled me!" A voice shouted, its anxious tones barely registering on Fuji's auditory sense. Her song had ended with his words, but why? He could vaguely hear the voice still talking indignantly. "Oh my god! What on earth possessed you to bring these people up here?"

"To listen to you, of course! It's your concert, after all." Matsui skipped happily to the girl's side. "Tezuka-san, Fuji-san! Remember my friend, ?"

The class troublemaker? The girl who once immaturely tried to trip him when he was called up to the board?

Flustered, and not knowing what else to do, Fuji demanded. "What are you doing?!"

**********

Trust Kira to do the strangest things, thought. Though bringing Tezuka Kunimitsu as well as Fuji Syuusuke – she knew their names now – the latter being the one with the red lips that – she shivered – well, anyway, seeing them that day at the loft proved to be the start of a great friendship.

Now the four of them were constantly hanging out. suspected that Kira was actually badgering the busy tennis captain and yet Tezuka really didn't seem to mind. She and Kira even got to watch most of their tennis practices. The sport was actually not of the devil as she previously thought, but actually quite fun. Fuji, for one, was amazing at tennis; he even had those legendary-sounding triple counters. He was also helping in Trig that her improved grades had shocked Yamamoto-sensei into speechlessness.

But one thing that still bothered her, sometimes, was when she remembered the angry way Fuji reacted the first time he heard her sing. He had muttered something angrily and just walked out. Kira and even Tezuka didn't know what to make of it. It was only three days after the incident that Fuji came to talk her in class, acting like nothing had happened.

"I know I wasn't able to tell you the first time, but you really do have a beautiful voice." She tried to brush it off casually with a 'thank you' but she had blushed at the compliment. This was the boy whose lips she was dreaming about, after all. He had then invited her and Kira to attend a tennis match after class.

Fuji was still making her blush these days, as he liked to stare at her while she sang. He would ask her to sing, and knew that she really needed to have more self-control and yet, she couldn't help but comply. During her songs, his eyes would lose their half-closed, smiling nature and instead, replaced by an intensity too scouring, too piercing, that her voice would sometimes crack inelegantly and she would have to look away.

"What are you thinking?" Fuji was asking now. They were by the incinerator; Kira was cleaning up again and they were waiting for her to finish. Tezuka was doing his homework and was waiting for them at the sushi shop that another of their tennis mates ran.

grinned. "I'm thinking about you."

Fuji smiled back, though she could see his eyes losing their typical lackadaisicalness.

"Really?"

"I like you, Fuji," said softly. Then she added, with a strangled laugh, "Is that what you want me to say?"

He just remained silent, still smiling.

"It was here where I found that piece you always ask me to sing." motioned to their surroundings. She hugged her legs and propped her chin on her knees. "I've always wondered if someone in our year had written that piece. First of all, it was in English so the writer had to be in the advanced level. And the words just sounded so…" struggled to find the right adjective.

"Lame?"

She chuckled. He did ask her to sing that song all the time, how could he think it lame. "Poignant would be what Kira would use. Vocabulary word."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah, actually." didn't know if this was the right time to tell Fuji that she actually knew what the words meant, and that they were truly poignant. There was no use hiding it. Her reputation had already started to crumble when she got a perfect score (tutored by Fuji, of course) in one of her tests. The headmaster had even called her up to his office, cried on her shoulder, and ranted about miracles.

"Fuji. You know—"

"It was me."

"What did you say?" She couldn't have heard that right. Did Fuji just switch to English and claimed that he was the author of the piece?

"It was me." This time, Fuji repeated, in Japanese. "I wrote it without anyone in mind. I wrote it because I felt compelled to. I think now, without even realizing, I had written it for you."

's eyes widened. "Fuji—"

"Is that what you wanted me to say?" Fuji interrupted. He was still smiling. But his eyes looked more alert now, and again, they were staring at her with that same intensity she felt every time he would listen to her singing. She didn't care for anything but this moment – her own heart was singing. Perhaps…if she inched a bit closer…perhaps if his lips were a bit closer…

"! Fuji-san!" Kira called out. looked as if she was jolted rudely from a trance; and when she glanced at Fuji, she swore he looked the same way. Kira was waving her hands, walking to the steps where they sat. "You guys. I called Tezuka-san and he told me that we should hurry up."

**********

Fuji was opening his locker door, mentally telling himself to not bang his head against it. This was not normal for him, not keeping his emotions in check.

But what in the world possessed him to say the things he said to yesterday?

He was torn between hoping that she realized what he had just confessed and hoping that she would think of it as a joke, cruel though it was. For what would it accomplish if she did understand what he said, anyway? Could he still face her, gaze at her so unguardedly while she sang, singing the things that he now realized, were the things that he wanted to say to her?

"Another of your note cards?" Someone broke into his reverie. Tezuka was holding a piece of paper.

"Ah, Tezuka." He did not remember penning anything of late but he hastily took the article, anyway. He was getting too careless.

"You write English note cards?" Tezuka asked, looking at the paper that Fuji was now holding. "Hmm…this really doesn't look like your writing, though."

"Oh. Let me check."

Fuji read:

There are different constants in the world. Change is one, clichés are another.
There are too many changes.
And there are more than too many clichés.
I will tell you some of them right now.
Like this, when I write: I like you.
Another: I love you.
There is something you can do about it.
Accept your fate.

Fuji smiled. He pocketed the note and declared to a bewildered Tezuka. "There's something I have to do."

**********

"It's you."

"Yes."

"I knew it was you."

"I like you, too. Is that what you want me to say?"

"I love you. Is that what you want me to say?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

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