So, here is the first chapter of my RyoMizu fic! YAY! This is going to move a bit slowly… I've already got a kind of idea of where this is going… this is an eventual RyoMizu story. –nods- But… there is this one OC so… -smiles- This also will eventually have Kiyama/Satoshi, or at least hints. I hope you enjoy the first chapter and I will work hard to finish it, I just finished chapter 5 not long ago. Okay, also, this starts between episode 4 and 5 and is only a bit AU before going pretty much completely AU.

Disclaimer: I sadly only own the plot… =(


Chapter One


He was frightened. His one hope that he would be able to get over these feelings was the fact he didn't have to see him during club activity and now that small bit of comfort was gone. Why had Tsuchiya gone and invited him to join?

Closing his eyes, he shook the thought from his head. That was mean, selfish, and something he shouldn't be thinking. Kiyama deserved to be happy, right? And if joining in the Rhythmic Gymnastics' club made him happy, then so be it. But this was going to make things so much more difficult for him…

Mizusawa couldn't help how he felt. He couldn't help that his throat went dry and his stomach twisted into knots every time he laid eyes on his delinquent classmate. He had tried so many times to be normal but it hadn't worked. Girls were just… there to him. Yes, he knew which ones were pretty and which ones were nice but he didn't find them at all sexually appealing and couldn't even get emotionally attached to them. He just didn't see what the big deal was about them.

Kiyama though…

He rolled over onto his side, staring down at nothing. Why? Why him? Why this? It was disgusting, he knew that and he was sure that if his family, his classmates, his friends ever found this out, they would probably think so too, and he didn't want that to happen. His family and friends meant the world to him and he didn't want to be the reason things started being difficult between them.

Couldn't it have been something else? Anything else? He would have much rather been asexual or even have some type of incurable disease. But—then again—this was some type of incurable disease, at least according to some people. A small voice in the back of his head told him it wasn't, to not listen to those idiots, it wasn't like he had chosen to be this way, but he ignored it, feeling as if he shouldn't be able to try and justify his feeling this way.

Glancing up at the table beside his bed, Mizusawa bit his lip and grabbed the small booklet which had his ID shown on the front. Resting it on the pillow beside his head, he opened the cover and stared down at the picture of the emotionless yankee, stomach twisting like it always did.

Quickly closing it, he fisted it in his hand, about to throw it at the wall in his anger before halting and bringing it back down, hugging it to his chest as he rolled back over onto his back.

He felt sick. Clenching his shirt in his hands, he shut his eyes tightly, mind automatically providing an image of Kiyama. This time he didn't fight the thoughts away and allowed himself to continue ingraining Kiyama's image in his mind. His usually stoic expression and dark eyes, the bracelet he always messed with, that smile he got when Tsuchiya had asked him to join the Rhythmic Gymnastics Team. It made his heart flutter and lower stomach stir and—

Mizusawa slammed the booklet in his hand back onto the table before inching back beneath his covers, heavy frown on his face.

No. He would absolutely not allow those types of thoughts. It was another level of disgusting altogether…


"Ne, Mizusawa," Yuuta began from beside him with a grin as they all sat eating their omelet rice. Mizusawa looked up in curiosity. "Isn't it still hard to believe that we actually get to participate in the training camp at Teito University?" his voice was slightly disbelieving as he gave a laugh, looking at the rest of them and Mizusawa slowly looked away, a frown now on his face.

"Definitely!"

"I'm looking forward to it!"

It was now or never, Mizusawa thought with a small nod to himself before looking back up at his captain. "Yuuta,"

Yuuta looked over, a smile still on his face. "Eh?

Mizusawa averted his eyes to his omelet rice. "Is it okay if I don't go to the training camp?"

"Huh? What are you saying?" Yuuta looked at him as if he were joking. "This is kind of a rare chance, you know? What's wrong?"

He stared at him for a moment before looking away quickly. "Uh, well…"

Yuuta smiled and clapped his shoulder. "The competition is coming up soon, so let's work hard, okay?" Mizusawa looked at him and sighed quietly to himself. "Should we increase our strength training regimen?"

Mizusawa tuned out the conversation that followed, staring down at the table. That was his one shot to get out of this and he had ruined it by being too nervous to say anything. Well, he figured the reason was partially because Yuuta hadn't given him the chance to say anything but… what was he supposed to do now?

He figured he didn't really have too much of a choice in the matter. He did actually want to go, but that would mean he'd have to be around Kiyama even more and that wouldn't be a good thing. It was beginning to get to the point he wasn't able to hide it, and he would be shocked if none of them were getting suspicious of the way he acted around Kiyama. He knew Kiyama himself knew that something was wrong whenever they were around each other. Mizusawa hated that Kiyama probably thought he didn't like him—because he did like him, but that was the problem. He did like him.

It was probably better for everyone if they all thought he hated Kiyama. At least that would be more sociably acceptable than liking Kiyama in that particular way.

"Anou… I think I'm going to go," Mizusawa stated suddenly, standing from his seat causing the rest of his team to look over at him.

"Eh?" Wataru questioned, pointing his spoon at him. "You've not finished your omelet rice yet!"

"Mizusawa?" Yuuta questioned with a raised eyebrow and Mizusawa gave a small, forced smile.

"I told my parents I'd be home earlier today, they had something to talk to me about," he excused, lying through his teeth. "Gomen ne, for cutting this short for me, I had forgotten," he bowed. "If you'd excuse me," Mizusawa hurried from the building, everyone else staring after him.

"Mizusawa-senpai…" Satoshi frowned, murmuring quietly to himself.

Wataru huffed, lips pursed in a small pout. "He didn't finish kaa-san's omelet rice! Ungrateful—"

"Wataru!" Azuma Natsuko scolded with a stern glare and Wataru sat up, giving a loud "hai!" before going back to stuffing his face, glaring at anyone who laughed.

"Sorry, I'm heading out too," Ryosuke stated with a grin, shoving the last of his own omelet rice into his mouth.

"Eh?" Wataru questioned with a full mouth before swallowing and asking, "Where you goin'?"

"Aniki, he's probably got a date!" Nippori broke in with a knowing grin of his own. "Who is it this time?"

Ryosuke smirked. "Ayako-chan,"

He just got blank stares and he rolled his eyes and stood from the table, giving a one hand wave. "Ja,"

The rest gave him farewells and he took out his phone, flipping it open to send a text to his date only to knock into someone, sending the other teen's things to the ground.

"Ah, gomen—Mizusawa," he looked up, shocked to see that Mizusawa wasn't standing that far away from the entrance to Wataru's and had been apparently going through his bag. Quickly, he sent the text and pushed the phone back into his pocket before kneeling down to help his friend. "Let me help,"

"Um…" he heard a sigh as Mizusawa deemed it hopeless to protest and began picking his things up as well.

Ryosuke's hand went toward a small, open ID and picked it up, his eyes widened in shock before it was abruptly snatched from his hand and Mizusawa stood, stuffing the rest of it into his bag. The blonde yankee blinked and looked up, frowning at the worried look on his teammate's face as he himself stood, hands in his pocket.

He gave Mizusawa an odd look. "Why do you have a picture of Kiyama, Mizusawa?" his voice was hard for a reason he was trying not to let come to the front of his mind and Mizusawa froze, glancing up at him in fright.

It seemed as if Mizusawa was looking for something to say before he swallowed, trying to calm down. "T-thank you for your help, Tsukimori," he bowed quickly, silently begging that he wouldn't tell anyone what he saw and hoped that Ryosuke would understand what he meant. "I'll see you tomorrow,"

Ryosuke watched as Mizusawa hurried away, his head bowed and back stiff as if hiding something and Ryosuke frowned, glancing down at the floor to see a notebook a few feet away. He looked back up to see that Mizusawa was already out of sight and sighed, bending down to pick the notebook up, placing it in his own bag.

He'd give it to Mizusawa tomorrow.


"Tadaima," Taku called out into the house as he closed the door behind him, slipping out of his shoes and into some slippers. His mother—Mizusawa Megumi—peered out from the kitchen, smiling.

"Okaeri! Taku, are you hungry?"

Taku shook his head, standing at the base of the stairs, one hand on the railing. "I just ate," he sighed, turning to walk upstairs and to his bedroom but his mother stopped him.

"Taku! Can you come here for a moment? Your father and I have something to talk to you about…" Taku frowned. So—he figured—the excuse he had used to leave early wasn't so much of a lie after all. He closed his eyes. Maybe it was true what they said about karma.

"Hai," he answered, turning back around to walk over into the kitchen to see his father sitting at the head of the table, drinking some tea.

"Taku," his father—Mizusawa Hideaki—began, his normal stoic expression on his face as he pointed towards the seat to his right and Taku walked over and sat without a complaint.

He looked around. "Where is Mai?" Taku questioned, his younger sister's bouncy presence oddly missing.

"At her friend's," his mother smiled.

"Ah, I see,"

"Taku," he began again, looking over at his son. "The two of us have something to ask of you," the teenager looked between the two of them curiously. "Simply put, I told my boss about you and he has a daughter your age, Taku. She wants to meet you,"

He stared at them blankly. "Why would she want to meet me?"

Hideaki and Megumi shared a glance. "Taku," Megumi began softly. "We were hoping—that if you liked her—the two of you could… possibly get married in the future?"

It was quiet for a moment, Taku taking in what his parents just told him. "I… isn't this an arranged marriage…?" he could keep the bit of worry from seeping into his voice. An arranged marriage? People still did that? But he… he wasn't interested in females. He had tried, yes, but he had already come to the conclusion that he couldn't help that he found boys more attractive and interesting then girls. And he definitely wouldn't find his father's boss' daughter at all attractive, that was for sure.

Hideaki gave him a look. "If that's how you would like to think of it then, yes, it is an arranged marriage. Of course, the two of you wouldn't be married for a few years yet; you still need to go to university, Taku."

Megumi beamed. "She sounds like an absolutely lovely girl and… I just want to see you happy. If this girl can make you happy, then it'll be worth it in the long run, won't it, Taku?"

Except this won't make me happy! He shouted inwardly, angry at his parents for not having discussed this further. Being with another male—Kiyama—would make me happy and I already know that's not going to happen. I don't want this…

He frowned. "I… I won't promise anything, but I'll agree to meet her,"

And for one of the first times, his father grinned at him, clapping him on his shoulder. "That's all we ask, Taku. Her name is Kinashita Aiko and we're thinking in two days to have her and her father over for dinner, is that alright?"

Taku gave an inward cheer at being able to postpone this meeting without lying. "I won't be here. Both the male and female rhythmic gymnastics clubs are going to go to a training camp at Teito University, so can we wait for a bit? Next week?"

Megumi smiled. "Of course we can, Taku,"

Hideaki merely gave a grunt, going back to his tea and Taku figured the talk was over and bid his parents good night, heading up to his room.

His father never really had been all that happy with him. He had heard that when it was announced to his parents that they were going to have a boy, that he was ecstatic. He would be able to have a son to play sports with and give advice too, but it turned out that Taku never did have any interest in sports, and when he did finally have in interest in one, it was probably one of the last on Hideaki's list.

Rhythmic Gymnastics.

His father had probably thought, "Well, okay, he isn't interested in the sports I like, I'll still be able to give him advice about girls," but Taku had never come to ask any advice and he had only ever brought one home and it had ended shortly after that having been an awkward, silent affair.

Taku knew that it had been his fault. He just couldn't enjoy himself. Sure the girl was nice but that only made her deserve someone who would be interested in her as much as she had been interested in him, so he had broken up with her, leaving himself to think "Maybe this is just how it's supposed to be…"

Hideaki had become much closer than his daughter, Mai being more of a son then he was. She was on her middle school softball team and their father went to each and every one of her games that he could make it to without being interrupted by work. He taught her other sports as well such as basketball and she showed great talent for each, but opted to stay with softball which their father was more than happy with.

Of course Mai always went to their mom about boy advice but their dad seemed absolutely fine with that, content to be Mai's sports partner when she wasn't hanging out with her club friends and he wasn't at work.

Taku knew that he had missed an almost essential part of growing up; at least, that's what it felt like. But he couldn't help it that he didn't find most sports that interesting, and that girls had absolutely no appeal to him. He loved rhythmic gymnastics and if it made him happy, that should be enough, right?

Although, the same should have went for him liking guys as well but… that seemed to be making him more unhappy than it did happy.