I Go Around

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation – Story Storm]

Years Before:

"I Guess This is Your Answer"

I don't like eavesdropping. Not necessarily because it's a nasty habit or anything like that, but I would rather focus on my world than get caught up in random BS from strangers. And because I've concluded that, after being in high school for an entire year and a half, that there's never anything interesting to overhear anyways. Take the following for example:

"Gosh, I can't handle. He's so hot, right?"

"I heard he's a genius programmer—he's already got a job with computers and stuff!"

Nothing of interest there. I would tune them out, but the cluster of my classmates had come together at the desk behind me, where I'm just trying to work my way through my bento of karage and last night's rice. I would go ahead and bail, but there's only about ten minutes left in lunch period. I didn't even bring headphones today, and the girls just keep getting louder. Worse, I know exactly who they're talking about.

Minegishi Naoya. He's all anyone can talk about: the girls, since he's got that mysterious attractive part down with his white hair, red eyes, and handsome face; the boys, because he steals all the girls' attention and doesn't seem to care one bit. I've never seen him be social, hear about him joining a club, or even entertain the idea of hanging around the classroom during lunch time. Worse, in the last seat rotation, I got the honor(?) of sitting right next to him, which means I've gotten a front row seat to any number of confession letters dumped into his desk.

I'd hate to see his shoe locker.

I, as much as I would like to say otherwise, am not immune to it. He's definitely handsome, no doubt about that, and when he speaks to answer the teacher's questions in class, he does it with confidence. When we were assigned seats next to each other, I blushed a lot more than was healthy for any one individual.

Something hits against my back. When I turn, one of the gossiping girls has stretched, and her elbow has snagged into my back in the process. "Sorry, Karakuri," she says, like a lazy ring toss, then goes right back to her chattering.

God how I wish I could tune them out.

I've never really been good at ignoring things unless I have something to do with my hands, so I go that route. I shovel the last of my karage/rice into my mouth and unceremoniously shove my bento into my backpack. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and put my hands together underneath the table, imagining what it's like to hold onto a gun.

Holding a gun isn't something I've done often, but Dad said that visualization is the most important part. I have to be able to pull off imagining what holding onto a gun feels like before I can come close to firing the real thing. I've actually only held one once, and that was so I could know what it feels like. Even the little ones feel heavy, and it's not something I'll be able to avoid if I'm serious about practicing, which at this point, I could go either way.

But I've gotta try. I promised Dad that I would try. So I wrap my hands close to each other, pointing the muzzle of my imaginary weapon straight at the ground-or as best I can with my desk in the way. From there, I focus on breathing and remembering the next steps after checking for ammunition and setting the safety to off. From there, it's raising your hands up, nice and steady, and checking your sight and depth perception—

"That's not an amateur's technique," someone says, and I pull my finger through the air where my trigger was, a bang going off inside my head. Or it's an actual bang from me standing up, knocking my chair against the desk behind me. A bento clatters against the ground, spilling its contents. Thankfully, it's only a bit of rice, so not too much food had been wasted, but that doesn't make up for what an idiot I was being.

"Shit, I'm sorry—"

"Karakuri, what the hell?"

"Sorry, sorry, I was spacing out, I didn't mean to!"

I drop down to the ground, hoping to scrape up what I can to help. One of the girls—the one that bumped into me earlier—rushes off to get some paper towels. Ugh, this is so stupid. I should've gone somewhere else if I didn't want to hear them, ten minutes left in the lunch period or no. I definitely shouldn't have tried to sneak in gun practice in the middle of school anyways. That would just bring awkward questions, and I don't feel like explaining my dad's paranoid overprotective streak.

By the time the warning bell rings, we've cleared up most of the mess, and all is well. I offer a few more apologizes, and Shinohara—the girl who's lunch I busted up-brushes them off. She does, however, pull me close to whisper, like there's some secret either of us would ever have to possibly share between us.

"But," she whispers, "when did you start talking to Minegishi? Can you, like, hook me up or something?"

And I realize the person who knocked me out of my mental practice was none other than my seat mate, who happens to be sitting down, looking through a notebook covered in what I can only guess is computer code I'll never be able to understand.

And I want to know just when he started talking to me, too.

After classes are over I pack up my things and get ready for my usual routine of heading to the Kendo Club's room. While I'm not a member, by brother is, and, even though he's only older than me by a year, he's always insisted on walking me home. I usually amuse myself on the sidelines by working on my homework. Bag slung over my shoulder, I go to head out the classroom door.

Or I would if someone weren't in my way. And I don't mean in the "Sorry, I'm accidentally blocking your path" way.

Minegishi Naoya is most definitely in my way, and the fact that he's not afraid to make eye contact proves that he's doing it on purpose.

"Karakuri," he says, and I resist the urge to jump at the sound of his voice. For such a skinny guy, it's always been kinda deep. I usually just hear it when he answers questions in class, but this is completely different. Even the couple of times we've had classroom duty together, he's always been quiet.

"Can I help you?" I ask, and the words sound ruder than I meant them to be. "Sorry, we just usually don't talk much." I emphasize the last words in hopes that it'll get Shinohara off my back later, though I really doubt that. "Did something happen?"

"Oh, nothing much." Minegishi doesn't even break eye contact, and I have to do it first. His stare is way too much for anyone to take. "I was just curious where you learned that technique of yours from earlier." He raises up his hand, forming the shape of a gun. The expression on his face is nothing but amused. "As you can see, my own skills aren't quite up to par."

I open my mouth and then close it, not getting anywhere. I can't have people knowing about my gun practice, because that would just be stupid. I'm not really on anyone's radar, and I don't want to be. Anything would be better than that.

So I say the first thing that comes to my mind, which so happens to be: "I'd rather not talk about that here. Can we maybe go somewhere more private?" Shinohara gasps loudly, and then starts pounding at her phone's keyboard loud enough for me to hear.

Yes, even the rumor spreading around that there might be something going on between me and Minegishi is better than that.

And as Minegishi says "Naturally," through his smile, I sincerely hope that my guess was right.

Minegishi tries to head for the front entrance while I head for the club rooms. We both pause to look at each other, and he even goes so far to raise an eyebrow. "My brother," I blurt out. "We were supposed to walk home together. I need to let him know where I'm going."

Minegishi takes a moment, as if there's anything to consider. What I don't tell him is that I won't be going anywhere until Hiraku knows where I'm at. Mainly because I don't like the idea of running around with a guy without telling my brother, even if it's so not like that.

I pray to god that it's not like that.

"Very well," Minegishi says, and I frown a bit. Who talks like that anyway? He sounds like my mom when she's trying to be polite to company. "I'm not in any rush, Karakuri. Take your time."

"Right." I don't swallow the lump in my throat until I turn away from him. Now I feel like I should be in a hurry, like this is a mistake or something. Now that we're one-on-one without Shinohara behind me, I'm getting the feeling of chills. Screw the whole "mysterious genius" vibe Shinohara and her buddies slap him with; Minegishi is just plain creepy.

I walk a bit faster than necessary, but Minegishi keeps up with me just fine. I glance at him, and he's still handsome, even with his weird behavior. I feel so stupid getting caught up in his aura or whatever. He's nothing special, just an ordinary guy with good looks and a lot of brains.

"Is something bothering you?" he asks, and I almost trip over his words. Dammit, he must have caught me looking at him. I bet he's so used to catching all the girls' attention that he thinks I'm just like them—and unfortunately, I kind of am. I shake my head and face forward, almost to the sports gyms. Hiraku should still be in the middle of warm ups, so I should be able to make this pit stop quick.

"Other than why you would suddenly start talking to me out of nowhere, no," I retort before I can stop myself. Enough of that nonsense, face forward, face forward!

Minegishi lets out a chuckle, and I find that I'm relieved. At least he found me more amusing than rude; I can kind of live with that. "I wouldn't say it was completely unprovoked." I'm proud to say that I don't end up blushing. "You were in the middle of something interesting—ah, but you didn't want to talk about that where people who might recognize you can hear, now didn't you?"

He's right, and I come to a stop in front of the Kendo Club's dojo. I open the door. "Osu!" I call out, looking around. A couple of Hiraku's friends call back to me, and I'm able to ignore the presence behind me. Even though I'm nothing but a loiterer, the club room still feels like home to me. "Where's Aniki?"

"Changing into his gear," Nagi calls back. I let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Still?" Beside Nagi, Enomoto snickers. I want to look behind me to see if Minegishi's there, but I don't. While I would rather talk to Hiraku in person, I'll have to settle. "Will you tell him I'm heading home early tonight? A classmate of mine wants to go over an assignment together."

"You got it," Enomoto says, flashing a thumbs up. Nagi elbows him in the side, and together they start up their practice drills. I give them a short bow of appreciation and turn to exit. This time, Minegishi has chosen to wait a bit of a distance away, not blocking my path. He is, however, right by the doorway, which means he was close enough to hear every word—including my feeble excuse.

I try not to let his smile get to me as I close the door. "I wouldn't call what we're reviewing homework, per day," Minegishi remarks. "Well, not for you exactly." And what the hell is that supposed to mean?

I shake it off, settling my bag on my shoulder and heading down the hall that leads to the front gates. "Whatever," I say. "You invited me out, so you better have had a place in mind to go."

Much to my surprise, Minegishi does, in fact, have a place in mind. I let him take the lead this time, keeping a few steps behind and watching his back. My hands are twitchy, and I wish I had something better to do with them that wouldn't seem like a nervous habit. Playing at gun practice while walking down the street definitely isn't an option.

Once I stop recognizing the buildings, I start to get a bit nervous. A number of options flash through my mind, and I grimace. This could be something benign like going to his place or maybe even something like a prank. Worst of all, I could be walking into trouble, and I do my best to stay alert, to plan a route home. I blame my dad for teaching me his paranoid ways, though they may just be what saves me.

"Where are we going exactly?" I bring myself to ask. "I don't know about you, but I live in the opposite direction. I'd rather not end up staying out too late, got me?"

"Don't worry so much," Minegishi says. He doesn't turn back to face me, but his voice carries well enough. I scowl at his back. I think I'm worrying just the right amount, thanks! "We're almost there and I don't intend to keep you for long. I just have a few questions, nothing more."

I want to ask him what exactly those questions are, but there's no sense in it when we've already come this far to have a private conversation. We pass a train station on the way, so getting home shouldn't be an issue. I just hope I'm there before Hiraku gets home from practice. If I'm out too late, I'll have both of my family members fussing over me.

Before I can even grumble a "We better" in response, Minegishi veers off the sidewalk and into a nearby building, which I soon realize is one of those Internet cafés. I've never been in one, but it seems like an interesting enough concept. And each booth is pretty private, so I guess I won't have to worry about anyone overhearing, especially people from school.

"A double," Minegishi requests. "For an hour." The booth is paid for and opened for us pretty easily, and I sit down in one of the chairs. Minegishi takes the other. There isn't much space, but enough room to breathe. I could stand and stretch if I needed to without hassle, which means there's plenty of distance to put between me and him. On the desk, two computers sit, both of them newer models than the family computer we have at home.

This brings up the question of how much the place costs, which then brings up how Minegishi can afford it. I decide that I don't want to know.

"So what do you want?" I ask. One part of me thinks I need to hurry because we only have an hour to settle this. The other part of me is more worried about the fact that I now have to spend an entire hour in Minegishi's presence, alone. "You scared the shit out of me earlier, sneaking up on me like that. You hardly ever talk to anyone, why me?"

Minegishi isn't fazed by my accusing words. Again, he looks more amused than anything, and I wish I knew how to throw a punch so I could hit him in the face. "You were practicing how to hold a gun," he says, with total confidence. "That brings up plenty of questions, don't you think?"

I click my tongue and put my hands together again, this time not in full concentration mode. I raise them up, awkward and connected loose fists. "What makes you think that?" I say. My imaginary gun is facing the ceiling, and my instincts from training are screaming at me to put it down, aim at the ground. "This could be anything. Maybe I just pray weird or something."

"Because you're careful," he says. "And precise." I flinch a bit, my finger almost twitching against my imaginary trigger. If I had fired, the bullet would have eventually fell at hurt someone, and it would probably be me over Minegishi, unless the thing got lodged in the ceiling. Just where the hell did that analysis come from? "You're a methodological person, Karakuri. From how you organize your notes to when you solve problems on the board. Even when you're cleaning up, you go through routines and systems and hardly ever stray."

I'm struck with the realization that this means he's been watching me, paying attention to me. "What do you want?" I ask again, dropping my hands to the armrests. My imaginary gun disintegrates. It takes a lot more than I'd like to admit to keep my voice from shaking. "If you're just messing with me, I don't see the point."

"I'm not," he says, with such finality that I find myself believing him the instant my mouth goes dry. I should have picked up a drink or a snack or something that I could spend time on instead of looking at him. "I think I'd like to know more about you, Karakuri. You seem…"

"If you so much as tell me that I'm different from the other girls, I'll find a way to strangle you."

Minegishi chuckles, as if he very much doubts that. I doubt it, too, but I don't let it show. "Well, if you won't accept obvious but cliché statements…" He pauses, as if he has to think it over. "I'll admit, the fact that you don't actively fawn over me is nice. But other than that, you seem like someone I could hold an intelligent conversation with. I have no need to toy with you or pull pranks. What exactly will that accomplish?"

"I don't know," I admit. I'm stuck holding eye contact because there's nothing else to do. "I'm just not used to enigmatic guys suddenly dropping it on me that they want to be friends, particularly not because I know how to use a gun."

"So you admit that you can."

I grimace again, because I walked right into that trap. "Yeah." The word feels sticky in my mouth, because I've never told anyone before. "My dad thought it might be good for me to know, just in case. He's a police officer, so he was able to get me on the training ground. I only know the basics, though, nothing special…"

"Considering that guns are illegal in this country, I would say it's something special," Minegishi muses. Once again, I have to concede the point. "Though there aren't many everyday situations where I can think of a gun being a ready option to defend yourself with."

I shift in my seat, finally tearing my eye contact away. I don't care if my tells are obvious; I'm not telling him. "It's silly," I say, my voice quiet. "But I think I want to know anyway. Just in case."

Minegishi hums, as if the idea is amusing. "You're quite right," he says, as if that much is supposed to be considered high praise or something. "There are many possibilities for the future. You wouldn't want to be unprepared."

I make it home easily before either Dad or Hiraku make it home, almost out of breath. I make sure to finish up at least part of my homework so my story about working with a classmate holds some water, and then get to work on dinner prep when I know they'll make it home soon. The house is quiet, and that just makes the eerie feeling that Minegishi gives off resonate inside my chest so much worse.

"How'd your thing go with your classmate?" Hiraku asks me as he deals some more rice into his bowl.

"Good," I say, not knowing how else to describe it. "I think I helped him understand a lot."

Because even though I tried my hardest, I'm sure that Minegishi learned exactly what he needed to out of that conversation.

The second time Minegishi invites me out after school, I start to feel a bit more suspicious. I'm on guard for more pointed questions, but it doesn't get too far. We actually talk about normal high school stuff for a bit, and I even get to learn some things about him. Like how he's some programming genius and he's been making money home brewing systems and selling them to people who need or want them. I'm beyond impressed, mainly because my talents really seem to be centered on taking care of the house.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Minegishi says between bites of the cheap sushi we scraped out of the super market before sitting down in the internet café again. "A lot of high school age kids don't have half a clue how to turn on the stove, let alone use it."

I shrug, sipping at my fruit milk. I fiddle with the mouse on the computer, keeping the screen lit up, but not much else. It's Minegishi that puts the thing to use, not me. "Taking care of the house won't do me any good unless I can afford one to live in," I say. "It's not like I can just get married off. Staying with my Dad is just gonna end up being a burden on him, too…"

"Then maybe you should stop thinking inside the box." I raise an eyebrow at him, mainly because he's giving me advice without that tone that I think is him mocking me—which he tends to use a lot. "There's gotta be something a gun-wielding high school girl can do in this day and age."

I roll my eyes. "I haven't seen any auditions for anime protagonists lately. Besides, the girls in those always end up getting shipped with their obligatory teenage boy hero that has a thing for looking up girl's skirts." I look him over. "Sorry, but you don't fit the bill, Mr. Computer Genius. Even with your hair and eyes."

"Ah, but I never said anything about being the hero, now did I?"

I nod, because its true enough. If anything, Minegishi's going to grow up to be the villain.

I'll just be a side character that gets killed off before the finale even gets close.

After the third time Minegishi and I are seen leaving campus together, Shinohara pulls me aside during lunch.

"Karakuri, what the hell?" she demands, though its more confused than forceful. "You said there wasn't anything going on. What's happening?"

I don't know why she cares so much or why she thinks its suddenly okay to act like we're friends. Well, I know why she cares, because I understand what jealously looks like on Shinohara perfectly. She has a crush on Minegishi, and it's probably far along enough that she's written a confession letter or two. I figure I'll ask Minegishi just what he does with those the next time we talk.

"Listen, I don't really understand him," I say, "but if you're worried about us dating or something, it's not gonna happen." I want to tell her that there's zero chance of him and her dating, too, but I don't think directly is the best way to put it. I'm really convinced that the guy isn't interested in anyone at this point. "Minegishi is way beyond us—any of us, okay? I think he's just talking to me because he's bored." The guy only seems to interact with me whenever he's not doing his programming work, and last time he even was building codes on the computer while we talked.

"What does that even mean?" Shinohara whines. She lets go off my wrist and holds an arm across her chest. "Ugh, I'm so jealous you, Karakuri, this is dumb, it's not even fair—"

"Whoa, there's nothing to be jealous of, okay?" I hold my hands up, hoping to placate her. "Minegishi and I only really hang out every couple of weeks. We just shoot the shit and eat crappy convenience store food. I'm not even interested in him like that, so just chill."

She looks at me with a blank stare. "You're not?" Yes, because you totally need to say that like it's something unthinkable. "I—I'm sorry I just." Shinohara lets out a frustrated growl, though it wouldn't sound out of place on a disgruntled alley cat. "You should probably get going or your brother's gonna worry."

"Yeah." I take the out with gusto and nearly knock into a desk on my way out of the room. This entire situation has been nothing but stupid. If I hadn't been so stupid as to try and practice in the classroom, I could have been left alone for a while. But no, now I have get-togethers with the most popular guy in the class plus Shinohara's jumping down my throat again.

Aw, god damn it.

"Azuki-chan!" I stop at the sound of my name. My brother rushes down the stairs to catch up with me, and I worry that he's going to trip. As a third year, this is his last chance to compete with his teammates. Getting an injury is something he should be more cautious of, but he barrels to my side anyway. "You actually coming today? No dates or anything?" Hiraku teases. I don't even have the good will to humor him with an eye roll at his little joke. "Yikes, don't look so grumpy, Imouto. Did that Minegishi guy dump you or something?"

"We're not dating," I say, and Hiraku stops reaching for his shinai case at his back. "I think I've just got some frustration built up that I need to work off. All this preparation for exams is starting to get to me."

Hiraku nods, and I know he understands better than I do. There are tournaments coming up, plus he's got entrance exams. My problems seem petty, but if I can't confide in my brother, where else am I supposed to go. "Then you need to do something about it. I always throw myself into practice and it burns out the thoughts. You haven't gone practicing with Dad in a while, have you? I'm sure he'd be delighted to have you swing by again."

I think it over while Hiraku wins several sparring matches, and end up deciding to go for it. I ask Dad over dinner, and Hiraku flashes me a thumbs up across the table. Dad agrees easily, his smile somewhat assuring me that this is probably a good call.

Dad has Sunday off and takes me to the shooting range with him. I gear up the best I can—safety goggles and the like—and pick up his New Mambu M60. It's the gun of the Japanese police force, so it's the only one I can try. Fortunately, it doesn't have as much of a rebound to it as other guns even though I haven't exactly firing yet. Dad's insisted that it's best for me to get used to holding the sucker and I agree.

"You gonna be okay, Azuki?" he asks, and I nod while taking deep breaths. The first thing to do when you pick up a gun is to make sure it's unloaded. Even if someone tells you it's unloaded or the last time you picked it up was to unload it—you make sure it's unloaded. There is no compromise on this rule, and I go through with it, opening up the chamber. "You haven't wanted to practice in a couple months, so you might be unused to it."

"I'll be fine," I say, trying to smile. I haven't mentioned to him that I've been practicing the hand motions without even thinking about it. Now, with the actual thing in my hand, it actually feels like it fits. "I'm just gonna be working on my stance and aim today. Maybe take a couple of shots with the blanks. I wanna do this, Dad. Don't stress yourself out over it."

Dad frowns, and I know what he's thinking. Training with guns has been his idea from the start, so he feels like he forced me into it. What he keeps forgetting is that I agreed, and that I'm here today because I chose to.

My dad sighs and looks to me. "Let me know if you need anything, then," he says. "I'm just gonna practice in the next lane over. Don't you dare put any ammunition in that gun without telling me."

"I'm not stupid." I let just enough playfulness into the words so he knows I'm not angry. "I'm not ready to mess with real bullets and you know it."

Dad nods and picks up his own practice gun. "Right next to you," he repeats before he walks off, and it's just be and the gun.

I've had the Mambu pointed at the ground, lazily holding it in one hand. I walk up to the division between me and the shooting range and adjust my headphones before lifting the gun up, both hands on the grip. Even with the protection, I can still hear the bangs of other people taking their shots and remember that I'm in a police station. I need to at least look like I know what I'm doing if I don't want to cause any trouble.

I spend at least an hour getting used to taking aim—first with one eye, then with both. One eye is needed to aim properly, the second is needed for depth perception. Once I think I'm on target, I pull my trigger, even though it only produces clicks as the barrel rotates and nothing else. I have no way of telling if I'm actually aiming properly, and the only way to tell will be to take proper ammunition in and fire it.

Not that I think Dad is actually going to let me do that whatsoever.

I try to be patient. For a few minutes, I even get distracted as the target to the right of me is quickly filled up with holes, muffled bangs following one after the other. They aren't perfect shots, but they are clustered around the center of the target, and one even tears apart the paper bullseye. I'm beyond impressed and I wonder who that is before I remember that's my dad over there.

Will I never be able to shoot like that?

I shouldn't actually ever need to shoot like that, but I want to. It would be beyond cool if I could take shots—not that I know what at. After a while, I start to get fidgety and have to set the gun down before I decide it'd be a good idea to load up ammo and fire off my frustrations without Dad's permission.

Minegishi's weird behavior and Shinohara's jealousy are still poking at me, grating me apart. I'm almost sick of both of them, and I just want to get this energy out before I do something I'll regret. I should have joined a sports club like Hiraku, because then I'd have something to aim for. Instead, I'm just sitting around trying to get my energy out through something that I'll never be able to do on a regular basis.

I sit down on the sidelines and wait for my energy to die out. But it never does, even when Dad and I take a break for lunch. Hiraku sends me a text to ask how I'm doing, and I give him a nondescript Alright as I poke at my food. Dad notices, and he raises his eyebrow at me. I come out of the contact somehow feeling like I've done something wrong.

"Azuki," he says, "do you want to actually fire at something?"

I nod so fast that my hat almost falls into my soba.

Dad starts me on blanks first, which is probably a good thing considering the noise scares me enough that I almost drop the gun when I start. Part of the point of blanks is to get people used to the sound, and I understand why. Even with the headphones on, the entire bang feels like its ripping though my body, vibrations almost numbing my hands. The sound is definitely louder since the shooting range is a closed quarters, but it's still a bit much.

"You're doing fine," Dad says to me when I look back to him. "Go on, try some more."

I go through the entire six-shot chamber, taking shorter pauses between each one. There isn't an actual shell or anything, so I still can't tell how my aim is, but I try anyway. I want to be able to be ready when it's time. Dad watches from afar as I load more blanks in and try it again. This time, the sound doesn't seem so loud, but maybe that's my ears giving up on hearing just to keep me safe.

As the afternoon drags on, Dad finally lets me have a cheap practice bullet, just one. I load it into my gun and hold it up, trying to be as precise with my aim as possible. This is probably the only bullet he'll give me before we have to call it a day, and then I won't get to try again. It would be pretty lame if I didn't even nick the target after all that mental simulation, wouldn't it?

I realize I'm hesitating and take in a deep breath. Just to steady myself, I hold it for several second before I let it out. Thinking that I'll have more time to practice later, I aim with just one eye open. Depth perception can come later; firing is now.

Finally, I'm able to pull the trigger.

The gun bangs, just as loud as it did with the blank. The recoil, on the other hand, isn't something I'm so used to, and my arm jerks back. I take a few steps back, steading myself against the dividing wall, trying to come to terms with what just happened. I actually did it. I fired a fun. Glancing into the firing range I see my target, completely unscathed. My bullet probably bit the dust in the ground or something, but I can't stop grinning anyways.

"Feeling better?" Dad asks as I walk towards him.

"Yeah," I breathe out. "I think so."

"Your computer's acting up?" Minegishi says as we walk out of the school gates. It's an afternoon in October, and the winter uniform has gone back in session. Minegishi is one of the few guys in the class who wears his uniform properly and it suits him well. I adjust my hat back into place and nod like an idiot.

"Sorry, you're the only person I can think of to ask." Sadly, it's the truth. "It's kind of an old model, so maybe it's that? But it started acting up while Aniki was trying to talk to some of his friends online, so it's kind of an inconvenience. If you don't mind…?"

"I can look at it," Minegishi says with utter confidence. I'm kinda floored—enough that my reaction to realizing I have effectively invited him over to my place is incredibly delayed. "If it's an older model, it should be easier to fix. You'll be up and running by the end of the night."

"Right," I say, taking the lead since I'm the only one that knows the way. Before, we've always hung out in the internet café. Even though the room was isolated, it felt safe in a way. More public. Now he and I are going to be in the house together, alone, and neither Hiraku or Dad are going to be there to put any sort of buffer up.

Don't be stupid. He's more likely to form an attachment to his computer than he is to you.

Even so, I find myself daydreaming of stupid shojo manga scenarios as I walk. It would be so easy to just go that route, have my life turn into a comedy of some sort. But Minegishi is no laughing matter, and I don't feel like one, either. I feel like a mess that's stuck more than anything else.

We make it to my place—a small, three room family apartment—without difficulty. I unlock the door and hope that maybe Dad got off early and receive no such luck. We slip off our shoes at the doorway and I lead the way to the family room. The computer sits on the desk, and I watch as Minegishi looks it over, almost like he's sizing it up without even turning the thing on.

"Child's play," he states and sits down before I can even tell him the password to log on.

Hiraku thankfully comes home after Dad, so there's less of a scene to be had. It took Minegishi hardly an hour to fix our slow, clogged up machine, and it works perfectly now, even better than when we first got it.

"I won't bother explaining it since most people are confused by technical reports," Minegishi says, somehow having the balls to be his rude, usual self to my father. "But all you need to know is that I cleared away several chunks of data that were slowing it down and it should work fine now. Let me know if you need my help again…though I tend to only give out free sessions on occasion."

Dad just laughs and pats Minegishi's shoulder. I'd be too intimidated to initiate any form of physical contact, let alone go ahead and be so friendly. "Thanks a bunch," Dad says, grinning like an idiot. "Why don't you stay for dinner? Azuki's a fine cook, you know."

Minegishi smiles and looks me directly in the eyes. He's sure a charmer, I'll give him that. Dad's completely won over and even my heart decides it needs a few extra beats tossed in to keep functioning. "So I've heard," Minegishi comments with his same almost too wide smile.

Hiraku sneaks up behind me as I start to clean the vegetables for dinner and whispers, "I thought you guys weren't dating."

I elbow him in the gut with a promise that his portion of dinner will be poisoned.

I spend every other weekend practicing firearms, and my aim steadily improves to the point that I can actually hit the target now—I'm just nowhere near the center. I've stopped reacting to the recoil as much, too and I come out of each session feeling a little bit refreshed.

My after-school meetings with Minegishi have become weekly. I spend the rest of the time either at Hiraku's practices or avoiding Shinohara in the halls. She doesn't have it out for me or anything, but I can tell she's getting annoyed. Why does she care that Minegishi and I hang out?

"If she likes you so much, she should just confess and get it over with," I grumble between sips of another bottle of fruit milk. Minegishi's working on another line of code I don't understand in the internet café, but he still takes the moment to acknowledge me. "I mean, this is getting stupid. I'm tired of being her emotional punching bag." It's getting to me enough that I've actually been imagining her as my target during practice. Even if I'm only skimming my mental outline with my shots, it's kind of refreshing.

"Well, I'm sure she would do that if I didn't turn her down," he remarks, and my jaw drops. Of course, that was stupid of me. Shinohara isn't so passive as to not ask the person she likes out; that's just a stupid concept. "I'm afraid that you're getting caught in the crossfire, Karakuri."

I huff, playing with the zipper on my jacket. "This is dumb," I say. "It's not like I even—"

I stop. I was about to say It's not like I even like you, but that's not true. That's definitely not true. I hate all the girls that like Minegishi for just his looks, but after these couple of months, I've felt the tugs of a crush. It's nothing important, nothing that would last, but I wouldn't actually mind dating Minegishi as long as we still stayed like this…

"You don't what, Karakuri? Do tell." I try to backpedal, but Minegishi doesn't let me. "Excuses aren't befitting of you. You should try and do better than that. I thought you wanted to be honest with me."

My jaw drops because I've never said that in so many words. But Minegishi has been around me for far too long and I'm sure that he already knows. I'd be disappointed if I guy as smart as him didn't notice. I haven't even been trying to hide it or anything.

"I think I like you," I say, the words coming out clearer than I thought they would. "I know you probably don't like me, so I'm not going to say anything like we should get together. I'm okay with the way things are, so please forget about it."

"Oh, Karakuri," Naoya says, and I can tell by his tone that he's disappointed. I expect him to berate me, but instead he actually turns away from the computer, spinning his chair to face me. "Who ever said that I wasn't interested in you?"

"Ha, I told you!" Hiraku crows. "I told you you were dating." He puffs up like a bird, too, even in his kendo gear. Practice just let out and my brother can't stop grinning, even through the sweat he's coated in. "Why didn't you just believe me, Azuki-chan. Your aniki would never lead you on like that."

I scowl and try to move out of the way of his hand trying to muss up my hair. I pull my beanie out of my pocket and pull it on like a shield. "What's it matter?" I whine. It figured I could keep the secret all I want but Minegishi still does what he wants. "So we're dating. It's nothing special!"

"What's special is that Karakuri is taking it so well," Nagi remarks. Enomoto nods as he starts to pull off the outer layers of his uniform. "Remember when he didn't like Azuki-chan coming here because she would be hanging out with a bunch of guys all the time? That was some crazy stuff."

"Hiraku's growing up!" Enomoto croons. Hiraku shoots them both a glare and doesn't let it up. "Hey man, we're just tellin' the truth. We thought you would try and take out the first guy that ever got that close to your sister."

I'm surprised, too. Hiraku's always tried to be the strong older brother. Anything less than that wouldn't sit right with his image. He was always there for me, even when things were stressful for him. But he's kind of been sitting back and letting this whole thing with Minegishi go through, even encouraging it.

"Who are you and what have you done with Hiraku?" I half-tease.

"Aw, come on!" Hiraku whines. "Listen, we're all getting older. Azuki-chan isn't an exception. Soon I'll be going to college and we won't be able to be this close anymore. I mean, I'll try my damnedest, but it'll be tough. So if there's a guy that makes her smile even when she comes home and complains about what a weirdo he is, then I'm okay with it."

Nagi and Enomoto both stare, eyes wide, and I try to blink away the tears that are forming in mine.

I finally visit Minegishi's house in the middle of December, just as Christmas is approaching. I'm starting to get a bit nervous about the prospect of actually going on a holiday date, but I mostly keep it in. For now, I worry about whether or not his family will like me, which is a silly concern since I'm actually sure that Minegishi would stay with me regardless. Still, I grip onto the hems of my jacket as Minegishi goes to unlock the door.

"Just relax," he says, reading me as well as always. By this point, it's actually kind of endearing, how much he notices about me. "You're here because my cousin wants to meet you. He's hardly even ten, plus he's pretty quiet. Ask him about music and he'll open right up."

"Uh-huh," I say, but I'm not quite feeling it. Minegishi returns his key to his pocket but doesn't turn the nob. Instead, he slips an arm around my shoulder, pulling me until my arm is pressed against his side. I blush and start to stutter at the contact.

"You always think too hard," Minegishi scolds. "While that can be helpful, there's no need for that here. You just need to be yourself—and even if you're a little quiet, that's okay, too."

I nod, taking deep breaths. I can fire a gun and actually hit close to the bullseye now, and I'm afraid of meeting his family? Really, I need to get my priorities straight. "Okay," I say. "Okay, I'm good. Let's do this."

Minegishi smiles and opens the door. We're hardly inside before a small boy with dark blue hair runs up to us, a pair of headphones around his neck and a small smile on his face. "Nii-chan," he says in a soft voice, then his eyes flicker to me. I meekly hold up a hand in a wave. "Is this your girlfriend?"

Getting asked that so bluntly by a little kid makes me more embarrassed that I'm so embarrassed by the concept. Minegishi ruffles the little boy's hair, a smile on his face I've never seen before. "Yes, she is," he says. "Now help her settle in and introduce yourself while I take our bags to my room. Karakuri?"

The last is obviously directed towards me, as is the hand he extends. I hand him my bag, but keep my jacket on. Soon enough, it's just me and the smaller Minegishi boy, who hasn't averted his gaze from me. "The living room's right this way," he says, pointing down the hall Minegishi just went down. He starts to walk, and I go to follow, but he stops and turns to look at me. "I'm Minegishi Kazuya, by the way. Nice to meet you."

"I'm Karakuri Azuki," I answer, using my best be-polite-to-kids voice. "It's nice to meet you, too."

Kazuya frowns, but he scampers down the hallway soon enough. I follow him to the living room, which is mostly a couple of couches and a TV. There's a stand with some books on it, too, and a calendar hanging up by a desk in the corner. I sit down on the three-seat couch closest to me, avoiding the loveseat. Kazuya sits down beside me, his expression smoothed out.

"If you're Nii-chan's girlfriend, why does he call you by your family name?" he asks. My mouth flaps a bit, but I don't really have a satisfactory answer.

"Well, Minegishi and I—"

"You do it, too." As quiet as he is, Kazuya's voice carries an accusation. "I thought couples were supposed to call each other by their given names, because they're close." He pauses, brow furrowed as he thinks over his words. "Sorry, did I say too much?"

He's fairly considerate for a kid his age—much nicer than his brother, that's for sure. I hope he grows up to be a nice guy when he gets older. "No, it's fine," I assure. Not wanting the little guy to feel guilty, I make sure to smile. "Some people are just more comfortable with referring to each other by their family names. We called each other that for so long it's kind of stuck."

Seemingly encourages on by my words, Kazuya leans a bit towards me. "Do you feel more comfortable calling him that?" he asks.

I bite my lip as I think about it. I consider the scenario, try to imagine what it would be like for him to call me Azuki, for me to call him Naoya. Admittedly, it sounds kind of nice, but if I do it too quickly, would he notice. We've never really hooked on honorifics, either, so it might be awkward. Not even adding –kun to his name; Shinohara would throw a fit.

Ugh, her pestering has even started to get to my thoughts when I'm alone. I definitely need another shooting range session before I do something I regret.

"I don't know," I say. Then, it hits me, the honesty of kids. "Do you think it'd make him happy if I called him Naoya?" Even then his name tastes strange on my tongue, almost rich. That doesn't stop me from liking it, though.

Instantly, Kazuya nods. "I think it'd be nice," he says. Ah, this kid'll definitely be a charmer when he gets older, especially if he even has half of his brother's looks.

"Then I'll try it," I say. The declaration surprises me more than Kazuya, but he looks up to me with an expression of awe anyways. "It won't hurt anything. But if we still call each other by our family names afterwards, you can't say we didn't surprise." Kazuya gives me another nod, and I resume my smile. "So Naoya tells me you like music. What're you listening to in those things there?"

Dinner goes smoothly enough, and I manage to somehow have casual conversation without making an idiot of myself. Little Kazuya seems to open up a bit and leads the conversation, asking random questions. I end up telling him everything from my class number to my shoe size, and get the same information in return. Naoya (and I'm still trying to get used to it) is relaxed around him, the most at ease I've ever seen.

The people he's not at ease with are his parents, who halfway through dinner I realize he calls them "Aunt" and "Uncle."

Kazuya makes me promise to come back sometime, which I do as I put on my shoes. I also promise to find some music for him to listen to. I have a few older CDs lying around, and so does Hiraku. I'm sure he'll love it.

"I'll walk you home," Naoya says, slipping on his shoes beside me. I try to protest, but he just shakes his head. "Your family would never let me get away with it. I'd have Hiraku-senpai hunting me down in the halls for letting you go alone." I pout and put my foot down a bit harder than necessary when I stand up. "I know you're not weak, Azuki." My stomach protests all the way up to the back of my throat when he says it like that. "It'll be nice to walk with you."

I nod, and Kazuya clings to his brother's pant leg. "Nii-chan, I wanna go, too."

"It's almost your bedtime," Naoya corrects, his voice infinitely softer than velvet. "I'd never get you back home before then. You'll be able to see Azuki when she comes back. I'll play with you tomorrow to make up for it, alright?"

"Okay," Kazuya says and relinquishes his grip. "Have a good night, Nee-chan."

I nod dumbly at the words. I've always been the younger sibling. "Good night, Kazuya-kun."

As Kazuya retreats back into the apartment, Naoya opens the door for me. Neither of us have particularly been touchy-feely, so holding hands isn't something we normally do. We just walk side by side and are a couple of blocks away from the apartment complex before Naoya speaks up.

"Did Kazuya get to you?" he asks, and I can only look to him in confusion. His smirk has an eerie edge to it in the streetlights. "You called me 'Naoya' at dinner. That was definitely new."

"Did you put him up to that?" I mean it to come out teasing, but part of me actually means it. Naoya is a crafty guy. It wouldn't be above him to use the powers of his adorable little brother to get what he wants.

But Naoya just shakes his head. "If I had wanted that, I would have started calling you Azuki all on my own," he says, and I can't shake the bubble of disappointment growing on my brain. "He's been bothering me about it ever since I started talking about it at home. He seems to think it's necessary. Not that I mind much."

I do my best not to get too excited by the fact that he talks about me, but I kinda just fail. "Well then," I say, smiling, "I guess I'll just have to keep it up, then." It's stranger than anything, but I suppose I'll have to deal with it. Plus the teasing from Hiraku and additional death glares from Shinohara…

We walk a bit farther and stop at another intersection before I speak up again. "Um, if you don't mind…about your aunt and uncle." I almost say parents but catch myself, holding my breath. Naoya waits through my pause, as if I can possibly provide a follow up with my tied tongue. After a moment, he sighs.

"My parents died when I was about ten," he says, but he sounds more bored than anything. I can't help but flinch at him saying it so bluntly. Ten is Kazuya's age. It seems so close. "I came to live with my Aunt and Uncle after that—my father and Kazuya's were brothers." I find myself watching my feet as I walk, not able to look him in the eyes.

"I'm sorry," I say, and Naoya lets out a soft snort through his nose.

"Don't be," he says. "People die, regardless. Just because my parents are dead doesn't mean that you feeling sorry will change it." His words hit me in the chest, and I grip my hand into my shirt, desperate for something to cling to. "My aunt and uncle have raised me like a son for what it's worth. And I've gotten to watch Kazuya grow up, so it's fine."

At the end of his words there's that tone again, the one that's foreign to me. Despite his seeming apathy towards his parents, his aunt and uncle, he cares about Kazuya. Part of me flickers in jealousy, but I let it go. Family bonds easily trump dating for a month, and Kazuya must be important for him to treat him with such patience. Naoya must at least be happy with his cousin—his brother.

That doesn't stop me from almost breaking down into tears right there. My next breath is sharp.

"Azuki." Naoya takes hold of my wrist, bringing my steps to a halt. "Look at me, Azuki."

I look up, but I'm not searching for comfort, and he doesn't seem to have any intention of giving it. "Sorry," I say, fighting to keep my voice stable. "I don't pity you. I… I lost my mom, too. I was seven, so I didn't really get it, but I've never wanted people to pity me, either. I just know it can be tough. I'm… I'm glad you're okay."

Naoya stares at me for a moment, his expression blank. I can't read him at all, but it's okay. I don't want to be able to change him, but I wouldn't mind if he leaned on me, just a little. Minegishi Naoya just seems to stand on his own, solitary, somewhere I sometimes feel like I can't reach, even when he's holding onto me.

"You should be more concerned about the future than the past," he says, voice almost at a mumble. I feel compelled to nod and wipe tears off my cheek with my free hand. "Do try to stop crying before we get you home or I'll never hear the end of it."

Spring comes on faster than I thought it would, and soon Hiraku is taking entrance exams and getting acceptance letters. Shinohara starts to give me the cold shoulder, more passive-aggressive than anything. My aim improves enough that I can hit a bullseye a few times a day, and the rest of the bullets hit the target. Dad is impressed but thankfully doesn't ask what's encouraging me on.

"Your birthday is coming up, isn't it?" Naoya and I still don't eat lunch together, but we have taken to walking home most days. Hiraku's kendo practices have come to an end, and he takes to jogging every day to stay in shape. "We should do something special, then. A nice date."

"You don't have to," I say immediately. I'm so used to doing something small with Dad and Hiraku that I didn't even consider going out. "I don't expect a present or anything, either. Trust me, it's nothing special."

"Oh, but it will be," Naoya says, and his smirk almost sends me tripping over the sidewalk. "Trust me, Azuki. You won't be forgetting this anytime soon."

It's a nice and warm Saturday afternoon. There's a slight breeze, and only a few clouds float across the sky. I've been watching them for two hours, not wanting to look at everyone else in the crowd milling about. Even without eye contact, though, I'm sure it's painfully obvious.

I'm a girl who's been stood up.

It's almost funny. I don't know why I thought any different. Minegishi Naoya—whatever he was aiming for—played me. And I followed along, lured on easily. If only Shinohara could see me now, I'm sure she'd be trying her best to console me while restraining her glee.

I should go home, but for some reason, my feet refuse to move.

[NOTES] And with this, [Shibuya Operation - Story Storm] comes to a start!

The story of Azuki is one I've actually been poking around for quite a long time. It's gone through several iterations in my head, too. Surprisingly, this version is quite a bit different, but I like the change in tone. Well, overall, the first chapter arc didn't change too much-though I added in some characters who will be important later, plus actually tried to detail out Azuki's gun training. A did a bit of research into guns when I wrote this, but if my details are wrong, I wouldn't be surprised (nor would I turn down corrections).

One of the major things that changed about this story is the format. I was originally going to go ahead and do this as a series of my usual three-thousand word chapters. But then [SOSS] came along and I realized that [seven days + day before + day eight + prologue = 10], and so this variation was born. There are several challenges in [SOSS], but I will be taking on the classic version of ten chapters in ten weeks (and maybe an epilogue). This is, as you may have guessed, week one's entry, and there will be weekly updates until this sucker is finished.

In any event, those updates will probably all turn into monster chapters. I've already written up to chapter five, so I can guarantee that much. And, well, there are a bunch of great stories ready to come up at the Ramen Shop, so go and check them out, as well! And, hey, if you're in the mood, check out the challenges and join us.

Also, just because the prologue was a bunch of shorter segments doesn't mean the whole story will be structured like that. I kind of wish it was. Writing this one was way easier than the others...

Anyway, I will see you next week for the update!

[POST] 122615