Re-written version. Guess that time my grammar and vocabulary's totally sucks. Well, standard disclaimer, Harlem Beat is a registered trademark and copryight of Yuriko Nishiyama. This fic's written without any intention towards profit.
A female faced figure lifted his head. He was tightening his shoes when a voice called her from behind, the kitchen of the 203rd room in a small apartement in Sapporo. A sigh escaped his lips, showing that he was bothered by a young woman's voice, black hair, blue eyes.
Just like my mother... He wanted to say. But the truth was, the woman in front of him was a new wife of his father, his step mother, to be exact. "Is something wrong?" Then he asked, turning his face.
"There's a call from Kusuda!" The woman half shouted, pointing her index finger to the phone she held with her other hand. Her eyes twinkling with curiosity and mischief.
His eyes narrowed, wanted to make sure again, Kusuda? After a nod from her step mother, the man wrinkled his eyebrows, feminine face growling, queries popping in his head, because the only Kusuda he knew was... He paced back to the inner house, leaving his shoes and sport bag in the genkan, believing that nobody would steal them.
The new mother gave her step son the phone. Ignoring the gaze of 'tell-me-who-this-girl-is', he placed the handle before her right ear, taking a lean before the wall.
"Oi, Sawamura!! Are you there!!??"
Before he could answer, a teenage soprano had already screamed from the other end of the phone. He closed his eyes in distress. "Kusuda!" He grunted. "Lower your voice, temee!!!" He peeked the kitchen, seeing his mother half smiled, or in his language, he could translate it as mocking him. "What's this calling all about!! And you, over nobody that never called me since I moved here! They even don't know this number!!!" He suddenly stopped, remembering something. "Except..."
"Ah, Sawamura! Don't be so cruel to us!" Her voice backfired. "Narucho always contacts you all the time. He always tells us about you!" Evil laugh could be heard from the other side, he felt his world trembling. "How about this, sekihara otoko, have you found a new work!?"
He silenced for a while, controling himself, making conclusion over the real meaning of her statement. They were always worried about him. They knew that he didn't want to go to any university nor college. He forced himself to work hard after he finished High School in Tokyo, and moved to the northern region of Japan, Sapporo, Hokkaide, living at the room right beside his parents were.
He liked Ozaki, Kusuda and Naruse; his friends from Dogenzaka, Shibuya. But he didn't like them, when they started to worry about himself, his decisions, and even involving himself to his problems, like the Basket-beginner always done.
He smiled, a devilish laughter soon continued his still. "What's a matter Kusuda!?" He stated, half mocking. "I've worked for 6 months already! You think I don't know that you've never contacted Naruse-tachi, even if you all live in Tokyo!"
"Pin-pon...!" Cheerful tone, suddenly continued by a copy of sound effect. "Bu-bu! WRONG!" He facefaulted, he could see clearly in his mind that she was grinning at that point. "Sawamura, why don't you rush and go to your work, it's 9. Don't be late!"
He confused of the sudden change of her topics, and shortly, the conversation ended with a steady tones from the phone. He put the handle back to the receiver, but didn't lift his hands. He watched the phone, and his hands still there, waiting, absent-minded.
He surprised, jerking his hands from the phone, turning his body and found his little step brother. The eyes of Takuya Sawamura sure looked like his step mother, but there's something different. He believed that differences came from Takuya's real father. the man that he had never known before.
"What's the matter, Takuya?" The man stooped low with legs tightly bent, finding his gaze with the little one's.
"I want play basketball with you." He soon answered.
"Okay, but..." He waved his head, and saw the short needle in the clock pointed directly at nine, and the long one at twelve. "I don't think I can." He replied, smiling. "I have to go to work, but it's late already. Why don't you change your clothes and rush to the school before it's too late for you---" He halted his voice instantly, realizing the odd things happened before... How can Kusuda knew his work time but she didn't know that he had worked already?
"MASAHIRO GA BAKA!!"
"What?" His brother's voice shocked him.
"What are you---"
"Can somebody tell me what's going on?" Masahiro Sawamura managed to yell in confusion while his brother blindly punching his stomach.
"It's sunday, Masahiro." Then his father appeared, just woke up. He was closing the shoji and gazed to him with the similar eyes. His hair was messed up, and draws of the futon and pillow were printed clearly on his skin. He grinned, a wide grin. The same quality with the step mother's smile... Masahiro countered with the 'The don't you dare mocking me' glare.
"Sunday?" He arched his eyebrows, rushing his eyes to the calendar, and mathed the current date with the date in his watch. A "damn" soon escaped his lips, as he cursed Mizuki Kusuda's name in his mind.
He threw his sport bag to his living room at the 204th room in the apartement, just beside his parents' one. He muttered between his breaths; "Damn, I forgot it's Sunday. Even oba-san didn't warn me when I enter her house! Damnit those people. That Kusuda even made me more confuse...
"Wawit, how did she know---"
He ran to his front foor, and opened it quickly, greeted by the hot wind of summer. He smelled a scent, holding his breath. There she was, long haired woman, standing in the front of his appartement, placing her emerald eyes on him.
"I thought you wouldn't realize it." She lifted her cell phone. "Sekhara otoko."
"Kusuda!" He half shouted, lowering his bass voice.
"Konnichiwa, sekihara-otoko-kun." She greeted, lifted her right hand, and tossed mine. Soon continued by a laugh, countered by a smile from the man.
"I should have known." He controled himself not to laugh at his previous pathetic self. "What are you doing in Sapporo?" He asked while shoving his hands to his jeans pocket. "How are you doing, anyways?"
"I'm fine!" She answered quickly. "Just some business visiting an ugly old friend."
"Look at yourself first before you say that!"
"It's so funny to see you rushing at half to 9 with your sports bag to your parents' room." She chuckled.
"Okay, that's it. What has Naruse told you?"
"All." He replied simply.
"From your phone numbers, your address, your work, your everything." She added, her eyes twinkling with playful malice. "Until the last girl you had dated... what's her name again, Sakakibara?"
"I hope I didn't bother you. Do you have a date with her today?"
"We broke up two-three weeks ago."
"What?" She closed her mouth with her right hand. Widening eyes were expressing forgiveness and surprise. "I'm sorry."
"She's the one that broke me up, because she knew that I wasn't serious with her." He countinued, no hurt, no regret nor any emotions showed from his face.
"So, you're totally free now?"
"Huh?" He titled his eyebrows. "Free? Yes, you can say so, I think."
"So..." She repeated, grinning, taking his hands in her. "So, take me for a walk in Sapporo!"
"You're asking me to be your guide?"
"Okay," he then closed his eyes, and exposed another mischievious grin. "It's usually costs 5000 yen, but as an old friend, you can pay 4000 yen."
Mizuki Kusuda, 22 years old, widened her eyes in disbelief. "What!?"
To be continued.
Few!? Few tenses and vocabulary errors!? There're tons of it! I wanted to throw up when I re-read it again. I made it about 1 year ago, sucks. But, I'll continue it anyway. Sorry for the long delay, maybe after Christmas I'll upload the continuation. Sorry.