let's fill it
up (the glass is empty)
written by ginny, who
is writing this instead of studying like she ought.
It was towards the end of their third year at Seigaku—Ryoma was captain of the junior Seigaku tennis team and Horio finally a player of some consequence—when Sakuno and Tomoka got into their first real fight. They had quarreled over silly little things before in the span of their lengthy relationship as each others' most intimate friend, but never before had they actually become so angry with one another that Sakuno was forced to raise her voice to a harsh yell and Tomoka was obliged to ignore the delicate sensitivities of Sakuno's mind.
The fight took place on a Saturday. Sakuno and Tomoka were both flushed and sweaty, having recently returned from a Seigaku tennis tournament. Even three years later, at fifteen, both girls were still avidly devoted to Echizen Ryoma and his near flawless tennis abilities. Like every other time, the girls were standing outside the fence. Tomoka shook the pom-poms in her hand and actually filled out the cheerleading outfit she wore while Sakuno hooked her fingers over the wire metal and quietly sent Ryoma her good will.
There simply wasn't much changed in their lives.
Sakuno's relationship with the ever elusive Ryoma hadn't at all grown, but it hadn't regressed either—and she was thinking that was a good thing. She still hoped, hoped with all the hope she could ever carry, that eventually Ryoma would let her into the world—his world, as she so greatly desired.
But, she wasn't unhappy and she didn't ask for more. She was content; she was satisfied, and she thought that was good enough. After all, it had been good enough for her the last three years. Who was to say it wouldn't be good enough for the three next?
"I bet we'll be doing this same thing at the end of next year, too," said Sakuno breathlessly, her eyes on the white ceiling. Nothing would change, and probably that was good because change was hardly ever good.
"Hmmm," was Tomoka's reply. She was lying down right next to Sakuno on the pigtailed girl's pink lace and frills bed. Their elbows grazed and the end of Tomoka's ponytail tickled Sakuno's right cheek. "Hmmm," said Tomoka again before she rolled over and propped her chin up on her palms.
"Hmmm?" Sakuno said questioningly, eyes curiously shifting to her best friend.
"Well," said Tomoka, and smiled. "I think I'm going to confess. To Ryoma-sama, my feelings."
Sakuno coughed harshly, not believing her ears. She sat up immediately after her coughs subsided, and wailed, "Oh, Tomo-chan, you can't do that!"
"Why not?" said Tomoka, smile gone and eyes squinted suspiciously.
"Well, because, he—he's… Ryoma-kun. He's not interested in girls, in either of us. If you… he'll just turn you down, he's not—" Sakuno halted and chewed on her lip. She darted her eyes to Tomoka anxiously.
The whole time, Tomoka's face remained free of any anger or hurt at Sakuno's clumsy, slightly insensitive suppositions. Instead, Tomoka stared straight at Sakuno, her expression unreadable to Sakuno for the first time.
Finally, Tomoka said very quietly, "You're not the only one who likes him."
"You—you don't understand!" Sakuno spluttered. Sakuno knew her friend liked Ryoma, but Tomoka was so... Tomoka was always going off and chasing the next unattainable, hot guy. Tomoka was always loud and boisterous and said things she didn't really mean. Tomoka didn't care what other people thought about her, and she did whatever she wanted. Tomoka was so… Tomoka, and Sakuno really didn't believe Tomoka liked the tennis prodigy in exactly the same way she liked him.
"No, Sakuno. I think you don't understand," said Tomoka, irritation surfacing now. She opened her mouth and seemed to struggle internally for a moment before she added, "You don't understand me at all, but most of all, you don't understand yourself."
Sakuno's blood ran cold. "What are you talking about?"
"Really, Sakuno. The last three years, what have you been doing?" Tomoka asked, but not really. She looked expectantly at Sakuno.
Sakuno frowned, now getting irritated as well. She had done a lot of stuff in the last three years—really! She opened her mouth to reply, but Tomoka spoke before her.
"I'll tell you. You've built your life around him, without even realizing it. You watch all his games, you'll make him bentous, you'll play tennis to understand him just a little better, you'll think of him a billion times a day, at least a billion times more than he ever thinks of you."
Okay, now Sakuno was angry. "What about you? Haven't you done the same? And I like my life! I'm happy this way!"
Tomoka looked at her strangely. "Happy? Are you sure about that, Sakuno? Really, think about what you're saying here."
Sakuno didn't say anything, speechless and mad and taken aback at the whole turn of events. Tomoka was right, Sakuno didn't understand. Sakuno didn't understand why they were having this fight, why Tomoka was saying the things she was saying, what the things Tomoka was saying actually meant.
"If you do what you've always done, the next three years of high school won't be any different from middle school," Tomoka continued. "You won't be unhappy, but I don't really think you'll ever really be happy. And after high school, what then?—if you build all your happiness on hopes around Ryoma, how will you be happy when he isn't in your life anymore?"
"I…" Sakuno started, then trailed. The anger was burning brighter now, and indignant. But, Sakuno really didn't know what to say in defense. And, everything Tomoka was saying was just too much, really. Too much for Sakuno to take it all in and understand.
"I'll tell you something, Sakuno. I'm not happy. I'm not happy at all," Tomoka declared firmly. "I'm alright—I'm not unhappy at all, but you know, that's not good enough for me."
Sakuno stared at Tomoka's brown eyes, bright with… bright with—Sakuno didn't know. But Tomoka's eyes stared back at her, and for a brief moment, Sakuno's anger abated.
"And you know what else? That's not good enough for you either."
Neither of the two friends spoke to each other the next day. Or the next, and the next—until three days had passed since they'd last even looked each other in the eye.
Sakuno was still angry.
There was a lot of sense to Tomoka's words. She realized this after she ruminated over their fight more and more—but that only left her feeling embarrassed and thus, even more frustrated and annoyed and just so irritated. With herself.
All in all, it was easier being angry with Tomoka than being angry with herself. If she stayed angry with Tomoka, she'd forgive her in a few days.
If she was angry with herself, if everything Tomoka had said was true, Sakuno wouldn't be sure of what to do—not at all.
Sakuno hadn't planned to; she'd simply been walking through the halls listlessly with her mouth tightened to a pensive frown, trying to force her mind off of Tomoka with deliberate resolve, and ending up thinking about her pretty friend doubly instead. A student rushed past her, bumping into her arm and ended with the result of Sakuno glancing up and realizing where she was—right in front of 3-C, Ryoma's homeroom. She stood still and students filtered out of the classroom, several tossing her irritated glances and one even daring to speak the words—"Must you block the entrance?"
"Oh, sorry," Sakuno mumbled sheepishly. She stepped out of the way and the student who had asked huffed an impatient "finally!" before rushing off. Sakuno was about to leave, too, but one more person came out of the classroom and nonchalant indifference immediately permeated throughout the atmosphere.
Ryoma stared at her. He blinked.
Sakuno stared back, eyes wide with wonder. She completely forgot to say hello and the obligatory "Ryoma-kun!" imbued with slight surprise—although, Sakuno did feel surprised. But for another reason entirely, because this time, this instance, she took one look at him and suddenly it was like as if the last three years—her whole life even, Sakuno had been stumbling around blindfolded and that very moment locking eyes with the object of her affection, the blindfold was untied and fell to the floor discarded.
"I like you," she said suddenly, simply, without a trace of even the slightest stutter in place. Sakuno bit the inside of her cheek so hard, she could taste the bitter metallic tang of blood. Her fingers trembled even as she laced them tight together, to the point where she felt like she might just snap delicate bone. Her whole body was burning hot and she could feel a thin layer of sweat forming at the back of her neck.
Despite the fact that every thousandth of a second felt drawn out to hours, and every single pore of her wanted to look down and run away, Sakuno made sure to keep her eyes, filled with a million different expressions, trained straight on Ryoma's dark, unreadable ones.
"I'm sorry," he said a few moments later—though it had felt to Sakuno more like an eternity. "I don't feel the same."
Sakuno blinked.
He had said the words.
He had said the words that Sakuno never gave him a chance to say before, because she knew he would say them and not the words she'd have liked to hear. He had said the words that Sakuno was sure if she heard, she would have lost even the last, tiniest flicker of hope, the words Sakuno never wanted to hear because she was sure it just might break her heart just a little.
He had said the words.
And, strangely, she didn't at all feel like what she'd thought she would. She didn't feel desperation or alone or hopeless or anything of the sort. Instead, she felt a strange relief, a great burden lifted from her shoulders.
Sakuno nodded her head and her mouth opened and moved—she couldn't recall what she said because her words didn't actually reach her ears, but she was sure it was something like that's alright or thank you or whatever else. She just knew whatever she had said, afterwards, Ryoma gave one hesitant glance at her before he turned and walked away, leaving Sakuno standing behind.
Sakuno watched him as he walked away. The distance between them grew larger and larger, until he turned the corner and he was gone; she couldn't see him anymore.
She realized with startling clarity: that was okay.
The next morning, Sakuno walked into her homeroom, two minutes late. She bowed and apologized for her tardiness, then rushed off to her seat in the back-left, next to Tomoka. Tomoka was staring at the window and didn't say anything to Sakuno as she removed her school bag off her shoulders and slid into her chair.
The rest of the class went on, Fujiwara-sensei droning on in the background, but the duration of the lecture was abnormally quiet and abnormally slow on Sakuno's ears—probably, she realized, because Tomoka was not whispering to her and getting yelled at like usual.
The bell rang and the first thing Sakuno did was turn to Tomoka, who had begun to pack up her things.
"I told him."
Tomoka dropped her pencil case before she had finished putting the top back on, and all her pens and pencils clattered to the floor. Ignoring the fact that some of her pencils were rolling further away, instead Tomoka stared at Sakuno with stunned countenance.
Tomoka didn't say anything for a few moments and waved her hand when Shimada-kun—a dense, cheerful boy who sat two seats in front of her and was known to have quite a crush on her—told her that her pens were rolling and offered to help pick them up. Marina-chan, an intuitive classmate who was one of the first of many who noticed the unusual rift between the two great friends also noticed that there was making-up going on in progress, so she grabbed hold of Shimada-kun's arm and dragged him out the room.
"I was going to apologize to you yesterday," Tomoka admitted.
"I'm glad you didn't," Sakuno said honestly. "You were right, you know."
Tomoka smiled. "Yeah, I know."
Sakuno and Tomoka immediately pulled each other into a tight hug, and neither mentioned their fight or made any move at sorrys. Instead, Sakuno helped Tomoka pick up the pens and pencils that had slithered all around the floor, and they talked.
They talked about things they hadn't talked about in a long time. They talked about high school—what classes they wanted to take, what clubs they were considering to join, and whether they were thinking of getting a side job. They talked about going on a trip together like they had used to plan for endless hours when they were a little younger—only this time, they were more realistic and thought of locations like Beijing or Seoul, instead of Los Angeles or Paris. They talked about college, about marriage, about career, about the future.
Most importantly, for the first time in three years, they had a conversation without mentioning the name 'Ryoma' even once—and neither Tomoka nor Sakuno really meant for it to happen that way.
He just didn't enter their minds.
"It's so nice out, Sakuno," said Tomoka as they walked out the classroom. "Let's go out somewhere after school today."
Sakuno agreed, and it occurred to her then what Tomoka's big brown eyes were bright with the day of the fight—and even now, as well. Sakuno laughed and closed the door behind her gently.
Tomoka's eyes were bright with life.
Sakuno swung her racket forward and hit the ball, but it fell short and her racket made an unusual twang. Sakuno furrowed her brows and sighed, her proud smile dropped from her face—she had finally hit that danged ball, and she'd been working on it for a while, too!
"Ryuzaki," Ryoma said. "Your strings are loose."
Sakuno turned to the unexpected visitor, standing against the fence behind her, holding a can of Grape Ponta in his left hand.
"Yeah," said Sakuno blankly, then, "Hi, Ryoma-kun."
Ryoma tipped his cap forward, half his face instantly immersed in shadow and rendered to nothing but darkness to her eyes. But, she thought, thought—she wasn't completely sure—she had caught him give her a meaningful look that happened so quick that it might not have happened at all. It might have simply been the effects of a hopeful imagination and that probably was what it would have been had she caught it a week earlier before her confession, but Sakuno was a little changed now.
A week earlier, she had been exactly the sort of girl with a bountiful, never-ending hopeful imagination. She had been the girl who lived in daydream, and daydream alone. This week, she was the girl who kept her options open, but was certainly not going to live her life based solely on the ephemeral whimsicalities of dubious hope.
She must have been pondering the matter a bit too long, trying Ryoma's patience, because he added, "If you'd like, I'm free this weekend and could probably take you to get them tightened."
Sakuno stared at him, surprised, and blinked.
It had happened, then.
A small smile drew up on her face and Sakuno replied, "I'd like that."
He nodded his head at her, turned and walked away, leaving Sakuno standing behind. The distance between them grew larger and larger, but Sakuno's smile widened because she knew that there would be times when she'd see the distance between them grow smaller and smaller, when Ryoma was walking her way. And maybe sometimes, the distance between them would grow larger and larger because Sakuno was the one walking away.
She didn't know; she wasn't a Cassandra who could foretell the future.
But, she did know that Ryoma had offered her some of his time. Maybe it had nothing to do with the subject of romance, maybe it was simply him being nice or trying to make amends, maybe he actually considered her a friend and noticed that her net had been getting loose, maybe it meant nothing at all.
For certain, it wasn't everything—Sakuno was glad it wasn't—but, that was okay.
She smiled. The day was beautiful.
A/N: Want to read the conclusion? I already wrote it several months ago. (a fine puzzle) Basically, I've wanted to write this fic idea since about the time I first started Unchained Melody (two years ago!). I never did get around to writing it, but it had been on my mind for a long time.
Anyway, I started thinking about it again a few months ago and ended up witing a fine puzzle, the end of the original fic idea. However, I didn't think I'd end up writing the bulk of the fic so I just posted a fine puzzle as an open-ended drabble. (I do this sometimes. He Still Did is the aftermath to a RyoSaku fic I never finished.) You can read a fine puzzle and think of it as the eventual aftermath three years later, or you can read a fine puzzle and think of it as its own open-ended drabble; either way, it doesn't matter. Both stand on their own fine so I'm leaving them posted the way they are.
The original idea was much more romantic, much more RyoSaku, much more dramatic, much more crowd-pleaser-ish, and the title was different, but it also had a large amount of TomoSaku friendship. I actually don't think I used any of the three original pages I two years ago except maybe a few TomoSaku bits, but I like this version better. Hmm. There is an idea forming in my head, in between a fine puzzle and this, which maybe I'll write someday.
Anyhow, hope ya enjoy.