MiRACLE (KnB Fanfic)

EXTRA (TBHK AU)

"Hey, Tatsuya! Stop dropping by whenever the hell you want!"

Himuro's immediately distracted, and Furihata is left with his stomach in dread. He shouldn't have listened to anything Himuro said, because now he's too scared to go anywhere anymore.

-

Yeah, regret.

He swears, he came to the room to return a book. He was going to drop by, return it, go. Not even going to stay for a second to sit.

Then he opens the door and the Shogi Board is right there by the evening light, pieces set perfectly and the Dragon Horse set to P-76.

Furihata almost turns right around and leaves, the book be damned.

But he takes a deep breath, closes his eyes-- and nearly stumbles right over the first couch. Okay, deep breaths, he can do this, almost.

Okay nevermind he can't do this someone save him.

He ignores the shogi board, places the book back into the shelf, writes his name down as returned, and--

--and there's an impatient tap, like a fingernail against wood. It's from the window, right by where the Shogi Board is supposed to be.

He doesn't look over.

It can't be natural.

He has to go, now.

Two taps this time, from the Shogi Board. Curiosity finally gets the better of him, and he turns his gaze over.

What he sees makes his breath stick to his throat, his heart freezing in place.

Three taps against the wood, a teenager sits on the chair, resting his chin on his palm. His hair was a shade of faded scarlet, his eyes reflecting heterochromatic against his reflection in the window.

He isn't looking at Furihata-- he has his stoical eyes on the Shogi board, tapping contemplatively for his opponent (no one's sitting down on the other side. Is it me? Does he want me to sit there?) to make a move.

(Tapping impatiently, wordlessly demanding his opponent to sit down, entertain me, would you?)

It's strange. This redhead is wearing the same uniform, looks about the same age-- and yet, Furihata has never seen him before.

No, of course he hasn't. This guy is obviously-- there's no way he's-- he wasn't there before, so... oh god.

The red-haired boy glances up at Furihata, and turns back to the shogi pieces.

"Are we not playing?"

Furihata's entire body freezes up.

His voice is hollow, and seems to resonate through the room. Maybe the nerves and the emptiness of the place are affecting his hearing, but Furihata clenched tightly at the strap of his bag, his feet bolted to the ground.

He needs to run. Wants to run. Has to run. Now.

He tries to say something but he doesn't know what to say. He's seconds away from crumbling entirely, and the redhead turns fully to him, smiling.

The door slams open.

"Furihata!" the boy squeaks, surprised. He whirls around to find Nijimura, glaring at him, "I thought I told you all first years stay in the gym cause one of you guys have to keep the key for the night?"