A note: This one is based primarily on manga canon, but I've used Saburo's name from the anime as I assume more people have seen it than read the manga, and continuity is nice.
"It's rather pathetic, you know," Dororo informed him one day during their mid-afternoon game of Go. "...Though you do put on a most admirable act of not caring."
"I'm sure I can't imagine what you're talking about," he commented, surveying the board dismally. You'd think a genius would be better at a simple board game, but apparently not. If he ever manages to actually win a game, it'll be a miracle. "Incidentally, you're cheating."
"Ah, a diversionary tactic. Nicely done, Saburo-dono. Very well, I'll acquiesce for a moment- how am I cheating?"
Saburo glared at him. "You're using your ninja mind-reading trick. I know it."
"On the contrary, the point of said trick is to be subtle. You would not, by definition, know."
He snorted in derision, pretending to ponder Dororo's last move. "Well, you must be doing something shady."
"I believe you will find that I have not." Saburo rejoiced, briefly- he may have been losing this game, and admittedly this tactic required him looking a bit more petulant than he was comfortable with pretending to be, but hey, it got Dororo off that unfortunate topic- "In any case, I would like to point out how shockingly unsubtle you are being, and suggest an alternate venue for our next meeting." ...Or not.
Saburo started. "What? Why? We both agreed that this would be the perfect place so we could keep an eye on Keroro and his friends- you know, make sure he's not getting up to any mischief." Unbidden, both of them turned their eyes to the Hinatas' yard, where Natsumi was currently chasing Keroro with a broom, demanding that he finish his daily chores. As they looked on, Keroro charged through Giroro's tent, and the Corporal emerged murderous, with guns blazing. Both of them turned away again at the exact moment, Saburo feigning disinterest, knowing that Natsumi would save the world again and a minor crisis would be averted.
Dororo coughed discreetly, returning his attention to the nearly forgotten game. "...Be that as it may, I think we both know that you're not here to observe Keroro-kun."
"True, that. I'm here to play Go." Too distracted to really pay attention, Saburo made a move- and a very ill-advised one, at that. Immediately afterward he wanted to take it back, but before he could say something or twitch his hand back towards his piece, Dororo had made his own move. Saburo felt that he could just cry, really, at the injustice of it.
"As am I, sadly. Checkmate."
"H-hey, wait a minute! You can't-"
"I believe I just did."
"But that's unfair!"
"Life, you will find, is quite frequently unfair."
"Jerk!"
"True enough."
/
At Saburo's insistence, they played two more games that day, and he lost both of them. He couldn't deny that he'd been shaken by Dororo's words, or that he'd been behaving in an altogether silly way, as of late. And it would also be quite impossible to pretend that he didn't enjoy seeing Natsumi just a little more than he would otherwise. Even though she never talked to him, seemed not to see him- whether thanks to her preoccupation with her Keronian house guests or Dororo's stronger-than-average Anti-Barrier, he may never know -and he certainly never made a move to talk to her, it was nice, in a way. It took a lot of energy to be as cool as he is in public, and sometimes that just got tiring. He didn't want their friendship to feel like work.
If Dororo understood this, he made no comment to suggest as much, for which Saburo was immensely thankful, and they parted ways as the sun was setting, the ninja returning to Koyuki's quarters, Saburo to his empty flat. At home, he sat and stared and sighed, tapping his pencil (an ordinary one; he wouldn't dare waste the precious pen that Kururu gave him) against a sheet of perilously blank paper. Get it together, he commanded himself. You have a show tomorrow, and only half your material has been scripted. Stop slacking and write.
For the first time in what felt like years, the words did not come easily.
/
It was a day ending in 'y', so Saburo cut school yet again. It doesn't matter, he thinks, not really. He had his show, and once that bubble burst, there were undoubtedly other ways to make money. He could act a bit, which is essential in about any form of entertainment- that could probably carry him far enough, if he pursued it. Therefore, school was just a waste of his time and energy.
Apparently, today his time was better spent resting peacefully on the bench outside Kissho school. From the other side of the chain link fence, Natsumi watched him a bit, just now and then, stealing glances- she was supposed to be out and about for physical education, but since that was easily her best class, she need not pay full attention. She could make it up later, on a day when Saburo wasn't hanging around and making a tempting distraction of himself.
Once, though, when she looked over at him, she found that he was looking back. Eye contact was held for the briefest second, in which Natsumi idly thought that Saburo had the bluest eyes in the world, that if the eyes are the window to the soul then his soul was a work of art, and then she looked away, face flushing bright red in humiliation at being seen.
Not until much, much later would it occur to her to ask herself if maybe, perhaps, the fact that she'd broken first was at all significant.
/
"Such silly children you are, dancing around each other like this," Dororo remarked, sighing lightly at the folly of youth. Today they were on Koyuki's roof instead, which somehow made a difference.
"Don't know what you're talking about," Saburo replied, moving a piece forward. He was really confident about this game, too. Dororo's cheating aside, he had good feeling about it. "But if I did, I'm sure I'd tell you that you were reading too much into things."
"Oh?" Dororo barely looked at him, prefering instead to contemplate the board with an air of serenity that only he could quite pull off. Saburo had to give him that much, at least; the ninja was completely unshakable. "In that case, I would be sure to inform you that your observational skills are clearly lacking."
"And what would make you say that, theoretically?"
"You are a bold young man, Saburo-dono. I would not think it would be like you to avoid pursuing a goal unless you thought it wholly impossible." Dororo followed this up with a brazen move, effectively putting his partner in check. Which would have been more than easy to get out of if he hadn't just utterly destroyed Saburo's mental well-being.
For his part, Saburo tried to avoid getting frustrated, as it never helped matters. Go was supposed to be calming, wasn't it? If he could improve his strategy in the game, maybe he could improve his strategy in those bloody arguments, too. "Maybe it's just complicated. Have you thought of that?"
Dororo sighed again, more heavily this time. "Perhaps you, Saburo-dono, should consider that it's quite a bit less complicated than you think it is."
Lost in thought, Saburo didn't even bother to complain when Dororo inevitably announced that he had won.
/
Natsumi flicked the radio on five minutes early, like always, and caught the end of a soft-rock program that aire before Saburo's show, like always- she didn't want to miss one moment on account of bad reception. It was only a short program he had, really, but she loved every minute of it, loved listening to his voice, pretending he was talking to her and her alone. Sometimes it was hard to remember that Saburo was "Kururu's Pokopenian", as Keroro put it- he was around so infrequently, sometimes it was easy to forget that they were friends at all. Some days she felt like Momoka, but considerably less rich- they were both chasing after laughably oblivious boys, after all. The difference was that Momoka saw Fuyuki almost every day, and Natsumi saw Saburo about once a month, if she was lucky.
She was snapped out of her revery suddenly, by the much-welcomed sound of his voice; Saburo always sounded so cool and suave on the radio. He did in person, too, but somehow the distance only magnified it- in a way, her mental image never quite matched up to the real thing.
"Well, folks, this has been a hard week for old 623," Saburo was saying, his words reaching a wide-ranging audience of girls that hung on his every word. "Y'see, I thought for awhile that my muse had deserted me. It's spring time, y'know, and I guess it's about now that everyone's thoughts are dragged kicking and screaming towards the subject of love, your humble host not excepted. And do you know what? Just in the nick of time, she helped me find my muse again. So if you're listening, girl, this one's for you~"
Natsumi's heart had leaped into her throat, and was now beating like a jackhammer, obscuring the no doubt beautiful poetic lyricism of his words. Saburo was... in love? And with a girl who listened to his radio show? Well, there was certainly no shortage of those. Her hopes sank as quickly as they had risen, replaced by a melancholy so thick that she barely even noticed when his show ended and the station moved on to a charming selection of techno beats.
Of course she hadn't really thought that they could ever be together. Of course not. That would have been... quite silly, really. But she'd held onto the dream, perhaps inadvisably so, clung to it tightly, and was now without anything solid to grab onto. No matter how she groped for purchase, it was quite impossible. Sighing, she turned the radio off and flopped back against her bed, staring at the ceiling. She hoped that for everyone's sake, Saburo was absent tomorrow, too.
/
He wasn't. Or, rather, he was, save for five minutes before class started, when he hung around the front gates, as though waiting for someone. Natsumi smiled at him in a false sort of way, and was startled when he stopped her, looking a tiny bit uncomfortable. That alone made her nervous; Saburo had always looked utterly at peace with his lot in life, every time she'd seen him previously. "Ah, Natsumi-chan, wait a moment please."
"Eh? W-what is it, Saburo-senpai?"
Now he looked almost embarrassed; even more unsettling. "...Did you, by any chance, happen to catch my program last night?"
"Mm, I did. The poem was... lovely." A lie, but a necessary one. If it hadn't made her so sad, she was sure she would have loved it, anyway. "Your... your girlfriend is very lucky." Dejected, she looked away, tried to sidle off towards the school building. "I'm going to be late..."
"Ah, don't let me keep you. I just wanted to ask." Feeling somehow heavier than before, Natsumi turned and even managed to get a few paces before being stopped by that glorious voice again. "And Natsumi-chan?" She turned around, hesitantly, unsure of what to expect. He smiled, broadly and genuinely, and she couldn't help but smile too. "Nobody ever said she was my girlfriend."
/
"Love and war," he began abruptly midway through the next day's game, "are quite similar- the only winning move is not to play. ...By 623."
Dororo just looked at him. "Ah, so we're admitting it now."
Saburo shrugged. "Hey, I can be the bigger man for a change. It's not really a big deal, anyway. I'm sure it'll all blow over. We have different feelings on the matter, so there's no other way it can end."
Dororo sighs. "How is it that someone as clever as you can fail to understand something as instinctive as this?"
Saburo grins. "What can I tell you? It's a gift."
The game goes on well into the afternoon, and this time, for once, Saburo does not lose.