Not Pretty Enough

1 of 2

Disclaimer: I do not own RK.

Note: Written in the same tone as Chocolates & Balloons.

Misao stared at her reflection in the mirror. He'd avoided her yet again by ducking into the boy's bathroom, one of the places she couldn't follow him. Disheartened, she simply left.

Ordinarily, she might've just waited, but today she was simply too tired and too disappointed. A few days ago she and Shinomori Aoshi, upperclassman, had been somewhat casual friends. She would walk and talk with him and he… well… listened and that was good enough for her.

The school year was ending and that meant one thing to her, Shinomori Aoshi was graduating. He was leaving. He would be gone and it might be the last time she ever saw him no matter how she tried not to think about it. They were having a year-end dance and in one of her braver moments, she had clenched her teeth, gathered her courage, and asked him to go with her.

The worst he could say was "no." That's what she'd told herself at the outset. It couldn't be worse than that.

He surprised her. He found something that was worse, beyond worse, beyond even her expectations. He hadn't said anything at all. Staring at her, he'd said nothing and then walked away as though he hadn't heard. Since then, he'd avoided her.

It had been seven agonizing days of avoidance and she didn't know what to do. She wasn't sure she even regretted asking him, but she definitely regretted his answer even if she had no control over it.

She was glad, however, that they shared none of the same after school activities. The avoidance had been both good and bad. She considered herself minutely lucky that no rumors were spreading around the school about her rejection and their ending friendship. Or, at least, she hadn't heard any yet.

She didn't even know what to do. Should she confront him or let him go? Give him space or force an answer? Yeah, that was the same option repeated… she sighed.

Staring into her mirror she wondered if it wasn't enough. Was she pretty enough to be his casual friend but not a girlfriend? He couldn't go to one dance with her? Was he that kind of guy? She hadn't thought he was…

Looking into her own eyes, she wondered if she would be prettier if they were another color. Should she try some colored contacts? What color did he like? A blue? A different green? Gray? Hazel? Brown?

Maybe she could add some shadow to her eyelids and some mascara to darken her lashes? She thought mascara looked kind of clumpy and school rules were a bit tough on make up. Should she break them to see his reaction?

What about her hair? What if he thought her braid was something that elementary children did? Did she need a new hairstyle? Should she cut it off?

Was it the tone of her skin? She was a bit pale this season; maybe she needed a bit of a tan.

Maybe she simply talked too much? Did she annoy him? Did he really want her to leave him alone and he didn't want to be rude? She'd never thought he was a rude kind of boy, so maybe he was just trying to be polite.

She could be too loud or too outspoken. Maybe she flirted too much. Did he think she was a loose kind of girl? She was just teasing. Maybe she was simply too tomboyish for him. Maybe he liked the pretty kind of girl like Megumi.

Maybe she wasn't anything at all like the girl he wanted.

Maybe she just flat out wasn't good enough.

Maybe pretty had nothing to do with it.

Maybe pretty was everything.

"Uh… Misao? What did you do to your face?" Kaoru appeared beside her without warning and Misao almost jumped. She'd been so intent upon searching for Aoshi she hadn't been paying attention.

"What do you mean?" Misao asked blithely.

"I mean, you have make up on. When Takamoto-sensei sees you he's going to freak out," her classmate replied as they slid the classroom door open.

Misao shrugged. "So? What can he make me do, take it off? Give me a detention? He can kiss my-"

"DETENTION, Makimachi!" A sudden, loud voice snapped from behind her. "Take your seat," he hissed, apparently having overheard their conversation.

Misao turned her eyes skyward a brief moment, sighed, and slipped into the classroom. She just barely caught sight of Shinomori before the doors clicked shut behind her instructor.

An hour later found Misao in the bathroom during a break with Kaoru at her side. "What are you doing this for? You never wear make-up. I thought you didn't like that stuff?"

Misao shrugged and continued to rub more of the color off her face. Takamoto had demanded she remove it and if she didn't obey he'd have her kicked out of school for the day and she didn't want her grandfather getting that kind of note. She'd obey for now.

"Seriously? Is something wrong?" Kaoru asked, her pitch changing, her eyes shining with worry.

Misao turned toward her exasperated. "Everything is fine." She whirled toward the door and yanked it open. "The world is peachy!"

At school end, Misao was the first out the door. She ran down the halls and out the front. She barely stopped to grab her shoes. There was nothing and no one more important to her than getting home and away from the place that made her heart swell with hurt.

The next day found Misao sans makeup but sporting a hairstyle similar to Kaoru's. A long waterfall of hair fell down her back, an inky tail from the top of her head. Many students turned their eyes in her direction as she stopped to switch her shoes at her shoe locker. The long curtain of black hair was shiny.

Kaoru came up beside her and stared at the new hairstyle with a raised eyebrow. "Don't you have soccer practice today?"

Misao cocked her head to the side curiously. "So?"

"Uh, aren't you … like… not allowed to wear your hair that way? Something about other players pulling it, right?"

Misao frowned. "I can braid it before I go," she stubbornly replied, throwing her shoes into the cubby hole.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Shinomori appear and with him a group of friends. He glanced at her briefly and walked by without a word and Misao bit her lip.

"Is something going on with you? You could tell me, maybe I could help?" Kaoru suggested. "This isn't about Shinomori, right? Please tell me it isn't!"

Misao shook her head. "Don't start with me, Kaoru! I don't want to hear about it."

"Misao… wait!"

When the first bell rang for the day, Misao was hiding in the bathroom. She expected to be alone. When the door swung open, her heart leapt into her throat at thinking she'd been caught by a teacher, but it was only Kaoru stalking inside with a glower.

"What is up with you? Seriously? Two days in a row?! Is this really about Shinomori?" Kaoru frowned. "Misao… Really, is everything okay?"

"I hate this," Misao murmured, turning to dig through her bag. "I've been going crazy for seven days. Seven horrible, horrible days. Why can't anything be easy? Why does my life have to suck? Why couldn't it be someone else? Why me?"

She whipped out a pair of scissors and before Kaoru could fully articulate a gasp, Misao began hacking at her hair. Kaoru almost dived at her trying to wrestle the scissors free.

"Misao!"

The girl in question pulled her arms around herself and lowered her head, her expression pained. "What's wrong with me, Kaoru? What do I do wrong? Look at me, am I ugly? Don't lie to spare my feelings, I can't be anymore hurt right now…"

Kaoru tossed the scissors in a nearby sink and turned Misao to face her. "This is about Shinomori, isn't it? What on earth happened with you?"

"Why doesn't he like me?" Misao whispered defeated. "What's wrong with me? I asked him to go to the dance with me and he wouldn't even say no. He didn't say anything at all and he's been avoiding me like he suddenly can't stand me… Like… Like he doesn't even know me… Like I have some kind of horrible disease-" Misao's eyes teared. "What'd I do?"

"Misao… You know… he's just… difficult… You said-"

"No one was worth that much effort, other girls doing this kind of thing was stupid, I know that… but… its… he's leaving Kaoru. He's leaving. Just once I thought, what could it hurt? The last time I'll see him… What difference would it make if I tried to change a little bit?"

The tears spilled over the girls cheeks. "Oh, Misao."

Kaoru wrapped her arms around her friend and they both cried.

"Yo! Weasel!"

Misao growled. "Shut up!" she called without turning back as she stormed through the hall. She wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone and most certainly not to Sagara Sanosuke. He'd only loop an arm over her shoulder and- "Get off me!" she snapped as he did just that, leaning his weight over her narrow shoulders.

"Hey babe, what happened to your face?"

She came to a complete stop and glared at him. "I got elbowed in the face by that bitchy tart from that northern school in our game last night."

"Shit, babe. You got a bruise the size of a rice ball on your cheek."

Her bad mood lightened as he reminded her why they were friends. Smiling, she tipped her head back just slightly. "You should see her face."

The grin was infectious as it spread across his lips. "I bet. You win?"

Slipping out from under his arm, her smirk widened. "Do I ever lose?"

"Che, not what I heard. C'mere."

She didn't have time to dodge him as he grabbed her crisp white uniform shirt and dragged her away. Opening her mouth to protest, she was shoved out a side door and into the school yard.

"What are you doing? My teacher said if I'm late one more time-"

"I heard you and Shinomori had a thing."

Her anger dropped to her feet, forgotten. "A what? What thing?"

Pressing his shoulders back against the building, he took a cursory glance around. "Heard from one of Ice Block's friends that you asked him out."

She paled. "I did not."

"Oh yeah? He lying?"

"Not totally," she shifted. "I have to go-"

"He say no or something? I noticed you guys aren't hanging out anymore."

Misao was puzzled. Why was Sano interested? He didn't like her so… "I asked him to the dance; I didn't ask him to marry me. He's the one being an ass and avoiding me. Why do you care?"

He gave her one of his idle shrugs and flicked his gum into the yard. "Nah, just wanted to tell you not to let Kaoru give you one of those make-over things; dude, she sucks. You looked like-" He didn't get the words past his lips before she slammed her fist into his stomach leaving him gasping for breath.

"Drop dead," she hissed before breezing back into the building, just barely avoiding being late for class.

The day of the dance came and then left. Misao spent the night in her room with her phone unplugged, her shades drawn and her computer off. She alternated between reading, pacing and turning her radio on and off. It was a restless kind of bitterness that filled her. Eventually it was anger and then exhaustion lulled her to sleep in the early morning hours. She woke up with ugly rings beneath her eyes that spoke of her lack of sleep and the attitude to go with it.

She had no sooner graced the inner halls of the school did someone shout her name, yank her arm almost off and drag her down the hall. She had just barely managed to see Shinomori before was pulled into the girl's bathroom.

Kaoru.

"Guess what!?"

Misao, tired and bitter, just frowned at her. "Don't tell me something that's going to hurt, okay? I'm having a bad morning, just tell me tomorrow."

This response seemed to throw Kaoru off. "Oh, nothing about Shinomori. He didn't come to the dance last night, by the way. This is about Himura, remember him?"

Offhandedly, Misao did. He was the guy with the weird hair color that Kaoru had had a crush on since he first transferred to their district. He was the guy who insisted that red was his natural hair color and Misao was the one who insisted it wasn't and they generally argued. Or, she argued and he good naturedly ignored her. She hated when people did that. Ignored her. That was the worst.

And that her favorite person in the world was ignoring her—"MISAO!"

"What?" she snapped at her friend testily. Why couldn't she just admit someone had had a love confession with beautiful sparkling, typical shoujo results and get it over with. Otherwise she was going to threaten to barf on her or something fun like that.

"Himura asked me to walk with him to school."

"Are you kidding me?" Misao walked toward the bathroom door and flung it open. "That's retarded. Is he gay or something?"

"W-what? Misao?" Kaoru trailed after her. "You don't think that's good? I mean, should I have expected something else? It's somewhere to start, right?"

"Kaoru." Misao paused. "He asked you to walk to school with him, not to date him, not to marry him, nothing good. That's retarded."

Spotting the red head not too far away, Misao decided to call out. "Yo, Himura! You gay?"

The entire hall stopped to listen. Both Kaoru and Himura turned red.

"M-makimachi-san!" he sounded scandalized.

Misao turned toward Kaoru. "I'm so sorry, Kaoru. Don't worry, there's other guys. We'll get you through this."

Kaoru drew a breath but couldn't seem to find words. Misao grinned and began to walk away. As she passed Sanosuke, he grinned at her widely. "I rock."

"Tell me I suck, then I can feel better about myself," Misao whined.

"I thought you said you rocked. That thing with Kenshin, that was good." Sano smiled. Nice guy, well, occasionally.

"I'm so awesome that I can rock and suck all at the same time," she answered and then drooped a little more in the chair. Her hair, brutally chopped now hung at half its former length.

"This about yesterday?" he asked gruffly.

"What happened yesterday?"

He glanced up at her. "Yesterday was the dance that you did not go to. Why'd you ask him out anyway?"

"I answered this already. Because I suck. Or maybe he sucks, I don't know." She huffed. "Maybe I broke some kind of code or something, how should I know?"

They were in a café. A food shop. Whatever. She hadn't caught the name, but they came there a lot. The very last table was her favorite. At the front of the restaurant where she could see the street and see the door if she wasn't sitting with her back to it. Distracted, today she had sat facing away from the door.

"Want to make a wager?" she suddenly asked.

"'Bout what?" he countered.

The way they managed to sprawl in the restaurant furniture never impressed the staff. They both ignored the chastising looks sent their way.

"I say Himura asks Kaoru out on a date this week to dispel that ugly 'gay' rumor going around."

"Che. I give him three days. It's really bothering him. He keeps blushing every time someone gives him a funny look."

The thought of him turning colors struck her as suddenly hilarious and she burst into laughter. Her merriment faded as Sano's gaze shifted up abruptly and she felt a hand close over the back of her chair, and the braid resting on it.

"Get lost."

She recognized the voice at once.

Deep.

Melodic.

Commanding.

Gosh, it was Shinomori.

She tried to sit up, but her hair was caught beneath his palm and he wasn't moving. Sano stood languidly.

"Guess I'll catch you later, Weasel."

"Yeah," she agreed. She couldn't even muster up the energy to shoot back at Sano and that hated nickname. She so needed to get over this Shinomori thing.

He wasn't everything. There were other guys. She could get over him. They weren't married or anything. They hadn't even broken up. They hadn't been together to even get to breaking up.

In short, he didn't belong to her.

He released her hair and took Sano's vacated seat without invite. Then again, she thought as she sat up, he wasn't really the kind of guy who needed one, was he? She rubbed her face absently, the bruise from her game a few nights ago unexpectedly made her self-conscious.

Sitting in front of him, she was suddenly angry all over again. "What? No bathrooms to hide in?"

He frowned and said nothing.

"If you have nothing to say, Shinomori, then just leave. You didn't have to run off my company for that."

"Don't call me that." The tone was snappish, abrupt, and it made something inside her recoil. He'd never been sharp with her before. "Don't call me 'Shinomori'. Just listen."

He took a pause and then looked up at her. Previously, he'd found the table to be fascinating staring at it rather than looking at her.

"I did not mean to hurt your feelings."

"That doesn't make everything okay. You could've said 'no'. I can handle that, what do I look like, some stupid fan girl? I didn't ask you to marry me and have my love child or anything, don't be stupid."

The stern expression in his eyes gentled. No one could stare at her the way he could. No one could change the way she felt with a glance that way.

"It won't work, Misao."

She cocked a brow. "What won't work?"

"What you're asking for. I couldn't say no and I can't give in… Where we would end up…" he trailed off and looked away from her. "It would hurt too much."

She didn't press that she had only been asking him to the dance because maybe it had been much more than that. He had always seen things more clearly than she. Swallowing hard, she crossed her arms. She knew where this was going.

"When do you leave?"

Her mouth was so dry her tongue wanted to stick to the roof of her mouth and stay there.

"Soon."

The damage was irreparable. Maybe if she'd just pretended until the very end that they were only friends, maybe then it wouldn't have ended up so badly. Somehow, she knew that wasn't true.

That would've been a lie that mired her past in regret. At least she'd been honest. He couldn't handle it, maybe she couldn't either. Their remaining days at school were over. They didn't seek one another out anymore though he didn't intentionally void her. That's what he told her the few times they did see each other. Only ever outside of school. She'd thought maybe that was significant but she hadn't seen him with any other girls so maybe not.

Graduation was in the spring. She missed school that day and hated herself for it every day after. He would leave in hours and she didn't know what to do. What could she do, rush to his house and cry all over his shirt and say good-bye? It would hurt just as much to cry in her room. He wasn't staying, he was leaving. She couldn't ask him to stay, couldn't beg him to even if she wanted to. She'd hate herself even more for saying something to ugly to him. Shinomori Aoshi was going to be a successful man, she couldn't stop him from doing that. What kind of person would that make her?

Restlessly, she'd left her house, wandering toward the nearby park. Sitting on bench she'd laid her head back on the wood back rest and stared up at the sky.

She didn't hear the footsteps.

"I waited, but you didn't come."

She whipped herself up too fast. The motion was jerky. Her response felt awkward. "I thought it might hurt less to stay at home."

He sat himself on the bench. "Did it?"

Tears pricked her eyes. "No," she whispered. "But it hurts more with you right next to me."

He didn't say anything. He was good at that. Her eyes hurt. Her chest hurt. Her throat burned. She brushed the tears that fell away. She wasn't going to cry.

"I…" she took a shuddering breath. "Have a good trip, Shinomori."

"Misao." He paused. "Did I hurt you so badly that you can never call me 'Aoshi' again?"

She just shook her head negatively. "I just want…I want you to go and learn a lot, be successful and all that. I guess I don't know what you're supposed to say to someone who's leaving…" she shrugged. "I'll miss you. Can I at least have a hug or would that be too-"

She was cut off as she was dragged off the bench and into his lap. No shock, no surprise, she just threw her arms around him, clutching him. The tears started and felt like they wouldn't stop. The heat of him was too real, the feel of his arms around her, the way he smelled, the softness of his hair… she wanted to memorize him.

She couldn't speak. She… there couldn't be any promises. She loved him and couldn't even say it. Never, she thought, could she burden him with that kind of memory. So she just held onto him and cried, the broken pieces of her heart spilling out her eyes.

"Take care… Take good care of yourself, Aoshi."

She pushed herself away from him, not giving him the chance. He needed to go. He needed to leave, she didn't want to hear him say that.

She didn't even want to see his expression as she stood up. He raised one hand, brushing the tears off her face.

"I'm okay," she muttered, trying to steady her hitched breathing. "I'm really okay. Have a safe trip."

She stared at the bench through blurry eyes. When his fingers touched the nape of her neck and then sank up into her hair, she gasped softly. A hard, urgent press of lips to her cheek would mark his leaving.

"I'm sorry."

Her eyes fluttered closed. She felt him draw away. It was like the sun creeping behind a cloud, a coolness settled over her. She held her breath, maybe if she did she could stop it… stop the pain, stop the tears…

No surer than she couldn't breathe, she couldn't stop the crying. She collapsed there, never daring to look back, never daring to open her eyes until she was sure he was gone.

Later… hours later, when she was certain he had gotten onto his plane, she cried still.

She missed school. If anyone noticed, no one said anything.