YnM Fanfiction

Sakura

Written by Calis

Disclaimer: YnM belongs to Yoko Matsushita-sensei

Chapter Two: Memory Mist

Oriya was not in a good mood.

The young man's face was stormy and he was quietly sulking at the back of the classroom corner where he was seated. The swelling of his face had subsided and the various assortments of cuts and bruises that marked his body had healed and faded. Oriya should be glad but he was feeling quite the opposite. Rubbing at the dark shadows under his eyes, he stared moodily out of the window at the white fluffy clouds that drifted by leisurely in a clear azure sky.

Oriya let out a sigh and wished he could be just as carefree as the small brown sparrows that flitted from tree to tree, chirping merrily. Watching the scene of spring, he let out a small yawn. He had not been sleeping well for the better part of the week ever since his enigmatic encounter and the lack of sleep was wearing his temper very thin. Oriya did not enjoy insomnia a single bit when every time he tried to sleep, the dream would come and haunt him. It was no horrifying nightmare, which Oriya would rather it be. Instead, he dreamt...

" Oriya Mibu! Are you all right? " A sharp, impatient voice intruded into his thoughts.

" Uh...oh.. ha-hai, Utada-sensei. "

" I know it's spring but please concentrate. I'm sure my class is not that boring. Young people these days... " Utada-sensei pushed her glasses up, frowned disapprovingly at Oriya.

" Hai, wakarimashita. " He replied resignedly.

If only I was dreaming about girls...

His classmates snickered and giggled at what the thin unmarried spinster teacher implied. As usual, Oriya ignored them and picked up his history text but his heart was really not in the ancient events that had happened way before his time. What he really wanted to know was the identity of the young master who had dressed his wounds and how he was related to the dreams that he had been having. Oriya had the unshakable feeling that the two was connected somehow.

The exquisite touch of gentle hands...

The sound of a deep sensual voice...

Amidst amber, rose, jasmine and orange blossoms...

Oriya shook his head vehemently. It tormented him more for the fact that he could not see a face but experience the sensations of the dream vividly. Sensations that had evoked responses that were previously unknown to him. Oriya was strangely fascinated yet at the same time he was apprehensive. Torn between the need to understand what those feelings mean and the fear of what they really epitomize. Snarled in the confusing tangle of his thoughts, he barely heard the bell that signified that school had ended for the day.

" Aww... Our dear Oriya-chan looks so troubled. What could be wrong? " A spiteful nasal voice asked in mock sympathy.

" I know! I know! Nikami-kun! Oriya-chan must have professed to a girl."

" Eh? How can a girl professed to a girl? Gross.... the poor thing, she must have totally freaked out! " Nikami Yuji crossed his flabby arms over his fat belly and guffawed loudly.

Following his lead, the rest of Yuji cronies joined in the verbal assault. They tossed out name after name, making it a game to guess who was the unfortunate girl. Oriya, long used to their bothersome behavior, gave them a deaf ear and proceeded to pack his things calmly. Not happy that his taunts were not drawing the response he wanted; Yuji reached out with his greasy fingers unaware that he was making one of the worse mistakes in his short sixteen years of life. Before those short, fat sausage-like digits could close upon a lock of Oriya's hair; Yuji only had time to see a brief flash before pain exploded between his eyes.

A resounding crack silenced the jeers as hard bamboo met bone. Yuji's cronies stand in shocked surprise as he collapsed to his knees, clutching at his face. Babbling incoherently, Yuji screamed when he saw that his hand was wet with the blood that was now trickling down his broken nose. Oriya's smile was almost feral as he unsheathed his shinai from its cloth cover, drawing out the bamboo blade with a smooth flowing motion that bespoke years of practice. His eyes glared at the class bullies, openly daring them to come at him but they dare not look at him. It felt good to slash out, channeling his frustrations into that burst of violence.

" Help me... I'm bleeding... help me! " Yuji screamed again.

Unsure of what Oriya would do, the five of them looked at each other not willing to go their leader's rescue. Oriya felt nothing but contempt over the show of cowardice. Bullies were weaklings at heart, harboring inferior complexes that drove them to assert their own self-worth through tormenting those who were weaker and defenseless. It was detestable to derive pleasure from the suffering of others. He knew he could easily become one of them, it was an easy solution to stop all the taunts and the beatings but that would only demean him and flout his own principles. Turning away with disgust, Oriya shouldered his bag and left the classroom without even bothering to sheath his shinai since he was headed for Kendo practice anyway. He did not even paused when he heard the warning.

" You will pay for this! Oriya Mibu! "