Title: Sawada Shin's Day Off
Summary: One man's struggle to take his mind off his homeroom teacher.
Disclaimer: The usual blurb (i.e., Gokusen and its characters belong to Kozueko Morimoto; OHHC and its characters belong to Bisco Hatori, etc.).
Spoiler warning: The events are centered around Chapter 8/9 of vol. 7 of Gokusen.
A/N (01/07/2009): Still work in progress. Thanks for the encouragements! I think I have a better idea of how the story is going to pan out now. Also, I decided that I hated the original title, so I changed it :-D
Awww, fuck this shit. I'm so outta here. Sawada Shin bailed on Class 2-4 as soon as math ended. After all the recent upheavals over the Nekomata affair, he reckoned he deserved a Mental Health Day.
Feeling uncharacteristically out of sorts, he aimlessly wandered through the streets of the Shirokin district. He still had a few hours to kill before his "date," courtesy of Kinoshita. Not that he had any particular interest in meeting this girl, who is Kinoshita's girlfriend's friend or cousin or whatnot. "But I hear she's really hot! And big boobs too!" Ucchi and the guys had been trying to persuade him all morning long. There they go again, the oppai-obsessed morons, Shin rolled his eyes. Don't get him wrong, he enjoyed the view of a magnificent pair much as the next guy. He, too, recognized that Fujiyama Sensei was unusually well-endowed; he even thought she carried them rather well. However, his appreciation for breasts ran much in the same grain that an architect might admire a sheet of high quality granite, say, or maybe how a gourmand might nod in approval of a well put-together table setting -- they're niceties, not necessities. So the other guys' fascination with breast sizes struck him as plebian; and their dedicated pursuits, a tiresome activity unworthy of his attention. He eventually agreed to this outing only because he needed a distraction. Any distraction. Something to stop the scenes from that Nekomata mess from replaying themselves in his mind for the umpteenth time.
Who the hell is Shinohara and what is he to Yamaguchi? This was the question that he unconsciously returned to time and again. Why the fuck do I even care? He frowned at himself. It didn't bother him that he got beaten black and blue all over, or that in the end, he didn't manage to save her all by himself. Ok, truth be told, that bit did sting his pride a little, but he was not so arrogant a fool as to muck with serious yazuka skirmishes. He jumped into the fray because he had no choice -- someone's life was on the line. And he had never felt more grateful than when he saw the arrival of reinforcements from the Kuroda clan. Compared what might have happened, everything concluded well enough. That everyone was still alive deserved lavish offerings to the Buddha himself. Afterward, Kyo-san and the rest of the clan bowed to him profusely; even Yamaguchi sought him out to thank him properly.
But the memory of Shinohara sauntering onto the scene to carry off the distressed damsel only after everything had been cleared made his blood boil all over again. Besides, she doesn't even remember anything from that day. He was in turns irked by the intrusion of this new thought; then ashamed at his childish petulance (the woman was running a high fever after all); and finally surprised by a realization: that every moment of their extracurricular time together had been indelibly etched in his mind.
Now I am the laughable one!