He doesn’t even understand me. Why am I here?
Sano isn’t sure why he goes to Saitou after a bad day.
Why the hell am I here, again? It’s fucking raining.
Well, it’s drizzling, anyway — enough to make me damp and uncomfortable. And it’s a shitty walk. I mean, it’s a nice enough neighborhood and the roads are all right, but all of this last bit is uphill. In the rain.
I don’t know why I even come here. Half the time I can’t get his attention anyway — I swear I spend my whole life trying to get his attention — and then it’s a long walk home. Well, sure, today he appears in the doorway the moment I set foot on his property, but usually…
Look at that look he’s giving me. Stupid eyebrow; why am I even here? He’ll probably refuse to fight me, too. All right, well, he’s tugging his gloves tighter and stepping down from the porch, which means he is willing to fight me today, but that damned eyebrow of his is still wondering why.
“I had a real shitty day,” I announce in answer.
“And I will never understand why my beating you up always seems to make you feel better,” he replies.
See, he doesn’t even understand me. Why am I here? But at least he’s giving me what I want.
Not that I’m really sure why I want it. Bastard’s right… why do I seem to enjoy getting my ass handed to me like this? Well, only by him, though. But it’s not like I’m improving or anything — not that I need to!! — except, I guess, sometimes I feel like maybe I’m learning how to deal with the ‘Asshole’ style of fighting a little better. And it’s not like he would ever acknowledge my improvement even if I somehow managed to totally beat him. Not in a million years.
Well, all right, today one time after he knocks me down he does say, “Keep working on that move and you might actually dodge one of my hits one of these years.”
Jerk. Why do I do this?
“Fujita!” That’s the wife. Why am I here?? I still can’t believe he’s married. I mean, I know she does her own thing and lets him do his, and she really is a fun person, but I still can’t get over the fact that he’s married to her. “Fujita!” she yells from the house again. There’s about a million other things she could call him that would make more sense, but I guess ‘Fujita’ is less disturbing than ‘anata.’ “Is that Sano out there again? Stop kicking his ass and bring him in for supper!”
So Saitou reaches down and grabs my hand to drag me to my feet, and before he lets go pulls me up against him and kisses me hard. What a weird moment to choose to do that.
Well, but I can feel most of what’s left of my frustration from the day just draining out of me, and I can’t help grinning a little as we go into the house.
Why the hell am I here, again?
Oh, I remember now.
I’ve rated this story . It was the one and only story I wrote while navigating the dreadful city bus system to and from school for a year and a half, where I thought I’d get a lot of writing done and then mysteriously didn’t.