Pillow Talk

Chapter One: Meetings

It was just a normal day. A day like any other. I wake up, wash, eat my breakfast and wait at the bus stop for the bus. I sit next to the window, away from the other kids and read my books or do my homework while listening to music. Well, I usually do, anyway.

I was on the bus, reading perfectly fine with earphones in my ears and bag on the seat next to me. Next thing I know I've been poked in the shoulder and mouthed something at. I take out an earphone at face the disturbance. A boy my age with short orange hair was smiling at me.

"Can I sit here?" He beamed at me again.

This was completely weird. But, the nice person I am, I take my bag off the seat and place it on the floor in front of me, clearing it for him. He sits, and I read again. Moments later, he pokes me again.

"Nani?" I hiss at him, annoyed now. I don't like to be annoyed first thing in the morning. It's hardly even light yet.

He blinks sleepily and tilts his head in a coy way, yawning. "Can I sleep on you?"

I pull out both earphones out of my ears, certain I had heard wrong. "Nani?! You want to ..." I stutter a bit. It's not exactly a question you get asked everyday. "Nande?"

Instead of answering, he takes this opportunity to place his head in my lap and close his eyes. I freeze. What was this boy doing?! You can't just put your head in someone's lap without permission, you know. Instead, I slow my breathing and give him a little tap on the shoulder.

No reaction.

A harder tap.

Still nothing.

Surely he hadn't fallen asleep in such a short amount of time? I sigh and retrieve my book. I find my eyes can't focus on the words and instead keep sliding to the boy's sleeping face. He looks so peaceful, so innocent. I sigh again and put my book down. I might as well take a nap now, since I won't be going anywhere anytime soon.

I close my eyes and lean my head against the cold glass of the window. Soon, we are both asleep.

--

I was woken simultaneously by a bell and a rough poke on my shoulder. I groan and crack open an eye. Everyone was filing out of the bus and the orange-haired boy was peering into my face, smiling crazily. So I did fall asleep. I pick up my bag and stand up, giving the boy a small smile for waking me up in time. "Arigatou," I mutter, pulling down my sleeves to cover my bare hands in the freezing air.

I have just noticed his uniform. He follows me to the school gate silently.

I try to strike up conversation. "So, you go to Hyoutei too, ne?"

He nods and smiles again. "Akutagawa Jirou desu. Dozo yoroshiku."

"Nagaseru Ayame desu, yoroshiku. You look familiar," I stated. He did look familiar, I just didn't know where from. And then my eyes spotted the tennis bag on his shoulder. "Aha!" I cry, pointing at his bag. "You're Akutagawa-san from the tennis club!" The tennis club were famous in school, especially the regulars. All the girls fawned over them.

"Hai," he replies. "I'm a regular. You probably saw one of the matches. I play Singles 2."

I agree wordlessly. Usually I don't watch tennis matches. Atobe-san does my head in with his arrogance. I wouldn't want to be awed at the sight of his prowess if I was at gunpoint and tied to a stake with burning sticks under my feet. "Your buchou isn't my favourite person in the world, though." This was starting to be a pretty personal conversation.

"Ah, hai, he annoys people sometimes with his bragging. But you know, he's allowed to because he really is that good." He chuckles at my expression (a disgusted one, by the way) and looks away again. "You don't look like a san-nen to me. You're too innocent looking. What class are you in?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "You're not one of those stalker people are you?" I ignore the innocent comment.

He laughs. "No, don't worry. Just curious."

"Okay."

"I never thanked for the nice pillow you made back there." We had stopped at the gates. "So arigatou gozaimasu, Nagaseru-san."

I blush and look away, hiding my face with my hair. "You should ask people before you ... You know, sleep on them. Or at least wait for an answer."

"I'll try to remember next time, but I just get so tired sometimes." He laughs again and holds out his gloved hand. "Come on or we'll be late."

"Ano ... h-hai." I take the offered hand and we run in together.

Owari

A/N: Kekeke First PoT fanfic! As you can probably tell, I'm obsessed with Jirou. He's just SO CUTE. Anyhow, hope you enjoy. Review dozo!