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Savvy – Inquiries in Matters of Love

On the part of Kobayakawa Sena

He didn’t think Mamori was the right person to ask, but she and Suzuna were the only ones who might actually give him useful advice.

Suzuna leaned over the table so far she might as well have climbed onto it.  “Sena wants to date someone?” she said incredulously.  “One of those horrible giggly fangirls?”

He ignored her lack of faith, focusing on Mamori.  “I was thinking about gift-giving.  Since today is Valentine’s Day, chocolate was the thing that came to mind.”

She blinked and shook herself from her reverie.  “Oh!  Oh, yes.  Um.  It’s the thought that counts of course, but it’s important to know a little bit about…the person you’re getting the gift for…for example, it would be terrible to buy…this person…chocolate if he—or she—is allergic.”

That was something that hadn’t occurred to him.  He panicked for a moment, but she just smiled.

“He isn’t allergic,” she assured him, patting him on the head like a little kid.  “Mostly, he doesn’t like things that are unhealthy—but I think if you gave him chocolate, he’d like it.”

“Who?!” Suzuna demanded, hopping up and down excitably.

Sena blushed.  “W-well, that’s good at least,” he said to Mamori.  “Since I already bought it.”

“Who is it?” whined Suzuna.  “I wanna know!  Do I know him?  What school does he go to?  Is he older or younger?  What’s he like?  Is he nice?”

Sena grimaced.  “Not nice at all.”

Mamori gave a nervous laugh.  “W-well…anyway, he’s suited to Sena-kun, I think.”

There was a raucous sneeze from outside, and then the door flew open.  “Shit,” Hiruma groused.  “Who the fuck is talking about me so damn much?”

On the part of Kongou Unsui

They were talking again.  They always seemed to be babbling about boring things, when they weren’t shutting up and playing football.

Agon yawned hugely and ignored them, mentally going over his dating schedule for the week.

Wednesday:  Hanako.  Brunette, flat chest, perky ass.  Thursday:  Kiki.  Tall blond, Sailor Moon proportions, talks too much.

“What could it mean?” Unsui asked.

Friday:  Mariko.  Feisty blond, long legs, member of a motorcycle gang.

“Obviously, she likes you!” Ikkyuu said with authority.

Agon was suddenly all ears.  “Who likes him?!” he demanded.

“A cute redhead from Yamaoka Girls Academy, in Tokyo.  Since she lives nearby, she works at the conbini down the street.”

“Tell me her name,” Agon growled.  So I can track her down and scare her stupid.

Unsui raised an eyebrow.  “So you can go stalk her and threaten to beat her to death with her own limbs if she comes within a meter of me?”

Ooh, good idea!  He gave his most innocent smile.  “Would I do something terrible like that?”

“Yes.  You’re like the most nightmarish mother-in-law the world has ever seen.  Somehow, all the girls in a ten-kilometer radius are terrified of talking to me.”

It’s a fifty-kilometer radius—give me credit for thoroughness, Unko-chan.  “Don’t be so paranoid,” he chided, patting his brother on the shoulder.  “I’m trying to be happy for my precious Unko-chan.  Now, what’s the name of this wonderful girl?”

“Matohara Kimiko.”

“Oh?  That’s nice.”  He smiled and wandered off, plotting his intimidation speech.

If he’d bothered to linger a few seconds, he’d have heard Unsui say smugly to Ikkyuu, “He’ll threaten her, she’ll break his jaw…it’ll be love at first fight.”

On the part of Sasaki Koutarou

Akaba was strumming absently at his guitar when Koutarou kicked open the club room door.

“No, I won’t admit you’re right, because you’re wrong!” he was growling into his keitai.

Akaba studiously ignored his friend.  Instead, he concentrated on refining his current riff.

“Of course the position matters!” Koutarou snapped.  “It’s a question of poise, grace, leverage—”

Akaba hit a bad note, but he didn’t think Koutarou noticed, so he went back to smoothing out the end of the riff.

“Yeah, well, power doesn’t do you any good if you can’t hit the spot you’re aiming for!”

Only several years of practice prevented Akaba from snapping a string.

Koutarou fumed, stalked over, and thrust out his keitai.  “You tell him, Akaba!”

Akaba looked up with his best poker face.  “Tell what to whom?”

“Tell Mr. 60-Yard-Magnum that distance is nothing next to accuracy!”

“Leave me out of this,” Akaba said, standing.  “I feel dirty just being in the same room with your conversation.”

Koutarou clutched his jacket closed and looked scandalized.  “W-w-we’re not talking about that!” he shrieked in a high voice.  “It’s just a conversation about field goals!  Akaba is such a pervert!”

Akaba sat back down.  “You’re the one saying suggestive things.”

“I wouldn’t say suggestive things to Musashi over the phone!” Koutarou protested.  There were exactly five seconds of silence before he realized his mistake.

Akaba turned an interesting shade of green that clashed badly with his hair.  “I’m leaving,” he grunted, and fled.

Koutarou kicked his keitai down the hall—it ricocheted perfectly and put a nasty bump on the back of Akaba’s head.  “I didn’t mean it like that, you pervert!”

On the part of Kaitani Riku

“Really?” Riku said.

“Really,” Kid confirmed.

“Not even in the middle of—”

“Not even,” he interrupted tactfully.

Riku peered around Kid at Tetsuma, who was walking on Kid’s other side.  “That’s…kinda weird.”

“You get used to it.”

“I like girls.  They never shut up.”

“Okay, maybe you won’t get used to it.”

Behind them, one of the linemen grumbled.  “Remind me again why we’re walking back from the practice game?”

“Riku’s meeting up with his latest girl,” snickered another.  “It’s on our way.”

“The cute brunette from Oujou’s cheerleaders?”

“Nah, that was last month.  This month it’s one of those rowdy girls from Yamaoka.”

“The Yamaoka Yankees?” someone squawked.  “They’re bad news!”

“I hear they work for Hiruma!”

“Shhhh, he might hear you…like one of those demons that comes when you call, even if you don’t mean it…”

There was a mild commotion of the line shuffling around and shushing one another, but Kid stared stolidly ahead.

“I guess compared to those guys, even Tetsuma is normal…” Riku muttered.  “Ah, there they are!”  He pointed.

About twenty meters ahead was a group of high school girls in the blood red colors of Yamaoka Girls Academy.  They were all wearing face masks and skirts that went past their knees, and some of them had weapons.  At the front was a redhead with a red metal bat, being loomed over by a familiar guy with long dreadlocks.  He seemed to be threatening her.

“Isn’t that Kongou Agon, from Shinryuuji?”

There was a loud clang from the red metal bat, accompanied by a pained squeak.

Kid winced in sympathy.  “That’s…not the one you’re dating, right?”

“Her best friend.”

“Good.”

On the part of Shin Seijuurou

The White Knights’ offensive lineup was taking a break from practice when Shin approached the bench.

“Sakuraba.”

The blond blinked and set aside his water bottle.  “What is it, Shin?”

Shin stared down at him with his customary blank, serious expression.  “I require specialized training.”

Sakuraba arched an eyebrow and tilted his head.  “I’m not sure I understand.”

Shin seemed to consider his wording carefully before speaking again.  “I lack a certain skill, and a certain girl insists that it is absolutely necessary that I master that skill.  I assumed you and Takami would be the proper people to ask, since you seem to be better with it than most.”

Sakuraba felt his ears turn red, and farther along the bench, Takami choked on his own water.  “W-what makes you say that?” Sakuraba squeaked.

Shin blinked.  “Well, I’ve seen you both doing it.  Sometimes together.”

Sakuraba thought his face was going to catch fire.  His mind raced, and he went over all the moments of indiscretion he could recall, checking for the possibility of being seen.

Takami came over to them and quickly interjected.  “Wait, Shin…what exactly is this skill you’re going on about?”

Shin blinked again.  “Using electronics, of course.”

“I thought so,” said Takami.

“So he really is that oblivious,” Sakuraba muttered in relief.

“Why, what did you think I was talking about?” Shin asked, guilelessly.

To Sakuraba’s vindication, Takami blushed, cleared his throat, and slunk off like a coward.

Sakuraba patted his friend (somewhat parentally) on the shoulder.  “Don’t worry about it, Shin.  I’ll explain it when you’re older.”

Ootawara loomed over them and said (rather loudly), “Hey, are you guys talking about sex?”

On the part of Kakei Shun

“You’re supposed to bathe in it?” Kakei asked, turning the box to try reading the directions again.  They still didn’t make much sense.

Haruko chuckled faintly.  “W-well, that’s the general idea, Kakei-senpai.  You fill the tub with bath jelly, and, uh…it feels nice.  We thought, since Mizumachi-senpai likes swimming so much, you might be able to get some…enjoyment…out of it…”  She waggled her eyebrows expressively.

Kakei regarded her blankly.  “It all seems…very perverted to me.”

Blushing, the little cheerleader laughed and smacked him (quite hard) on the back.  “Oh, stop!  Kakei-senpai, I’m blushing…would the Poseidon cheerleaders suggest that you go do perverted things with Mizumachi-senpai in the bath?”

He blinked.  “Perhaps if there was a good vantage point and enough video tapes to last a while.”

“And popcorn,” she added with a cheerful chirp.

“Who’s got popcorn?” Mizumachi asked loudly, right behind them.  “Ooh, bath jelly!”  He plucked the box from Kakei’s stunned grasp and bounced around happily.

“You know what it is?” Kakei managed.

“Oh yeah, I’ve used it before.  The strawberry-scented kind.  It’s all ticklish and slippery.  Last time, I pulled a muscle.  From now on, I’m stretching thoroughly every time I use it!”  He smiled brightly.

Haruko had a handkerchief pressed firmly to her nose.  “Ahem,” she said.  “As I was saying, Kakei-senpai…it would be a shame if the stress became too much for you.  Please enjoy some relaxing leisure time at the usual public bath, which the cheerleaders have taken the liberty of renting for your private use.”

“Yay, let’s go!” cheered Mizumachi.  “Oi, Kakei, did you hear Kongou Agon got beat up by some girl?  Looks like they’re dating now…”

On the part of Raimon Tarou

“…and then I’ll ask her,” Monta finished.  “So, what do you think, Sena?”

Sena didn’t have the heart to point out all the flaws in Operation:  Ask Mamori-chan On a Date (version 6.2.0, revised).  “W-well,” he stalled.  “The flowers are a good idea.”

“Hah!  Of course they are,” Monta exclaimed triumphantly.  “But the clothes—what do you think about the clothes?”

“This is Mamori-neechan, after all.  I wouldn’t say that the clothes particularly matter as long as—”

“What’s this?” said a Certain Fanged Someone from behind Sena.  “According to my notes…she’s easily impressed by nice clothes.  The flashier, the better!”

“Yoshyaa!” Monta cried, leaping up and running out of the clubhouse.

“An outright lie,” Sena grumbled.  “You’re terrible.”

“I lie all the time,” Hiruma scoffed dismissively.  “Can I help it if I’m surrounded by gullible idiots?”

Sena felt the corner of his eye begin to twitch.  “All the time…” he echoed in a flat tone.  “Somehow, such frankness isn’t impressive coming from you.”

“What?  You say my honesty is refreshing, and you’d like to join the ranks of my devoted slaves?”

Vengefully, Sena gave Hiruma an innocent look.  “What’s this?” he mocked.  “You say the Great and Powerful Hiruma Youichi stared moronically at Valentine’s Day chocolate for five full minutes before he realized he was being asked on a date?  I must spread the news!”  He leaned toward the changing room and cupped his hands around his mouth.  “Listen to this, everyone!”

As expected, the muzzle of a rifle was quickly pressed against the back of his head, but it was worth it to know that he had blackmail material on the Demon of Deimon High.

Description
Savvy – Inquiries in Matters of Love

On the part of Kobayakawa Sena

He didn’t think Mamori was the right person to ask, but she and Suzuna were the only ones who might actually give him useful advice.

Suzuna leaned over the table so far she might as well have climbed onto it.  “Sena wants to date someone?” she said incredulously.  “One of those horrible giggly fangirls?”

He ignored her lack of faith, focusing on Mamori.  “I was thinking about gift-giving.  Since today is Valentine’s Day, chocolate was the thing that came to mind.”

She blinked and shook herself from her reverie.  “Oh!  Oh, yes.  Um.  It’s the thought that counts of course, but it’s important to know a little bit about…the person you’re getting the gift for…for example, it would be terrible to buy…this person…chocolate if he—or she—is allergic.”

That was something that hadn’t occurred to him.  He panicked for a moment, but she just smiled.

“He isn’t allergic,” she assured him, patting him on the head like a little kid.  “Mostly, he doesn’t like things that are unhealthy—but I think if you gave him chocolate, he’d like it.”

“Who?!” Suzuna demanded, hopping up and down excitably.

Sena blushed.  “W-well, that’s good at least,” he said to Mamori.  “Since I already bought it.”

“Who is it?” whined Suzuna.  “I wanna know!  Do I know him?  What school does he go to?  Is he older or younger?  What’s he like?  Is he nice?”

Sena grimaced.  “Not nice at all.”

Mamori gave a nervous laugh.  “W-well…anyway, he’s suited to Sena-kun, I think.”

There was a raucous sneeze from outside, and then the door flew open.  “Shit,” Hiruma groused.  “Who the fuck is talking about me so damn much?”

On the part of Kongou Unsui

They were talking again.  They always seemed to be babbling about boring things, when they weren’t shutting up and playing football.

Agon yawned hugely and ignored them, mentally going over his dating schedule for the week.

Wednesday:  Hanako.  Brunette, flat chest, perky ass.  Thursday:  Kiki.  Tall blond, Sailor Moon proportions, talks too much.

“What could it mean?” Unsui asked.

Friday:  Mariko.  Feisty blond, long legs, member of a motorcycle gang.

“Obviously, she likes you!” Ikkyuu said with authority.

Agon was suddenly all ears.  “Who likes him?!” he demanded.

“A cute redhead from Yamaoka Girls Academy, in Tokyo.  Since she lives nearby, she works at the conbini down the street.”

“Tell me her name,” Agon growled.  So I can track her down and scare her stupid.

Unsui raised an eyebrow.  “So you can go stalk her and threaten to beat her to death with her own limbs if she comes within a meter of me?”

Ooh, good idea!  He gave his most innocent smile.  “Would I do something terrible like that?”

“Yes.  You’re like the most nightmarish mother-in-law the world has ever seen.  Somehow, all the girls in a ten-kilometer radius are terrified of talking to me.”

It’s a fifty-kilometer radius—give me credit for thoroughness, Unko-chan.  “Don’t be so paranoid,” he chided, patting his brother on the shoulder.  “I’m trying to be happy for my precious Unko-chan.  Now, what’s the name of this wonderful girl?”

“Matohara Kimiko.”

“Oh?  That’s nice.”  He smiled and wandered off, plotting his intimidation speech.

If he’d bothered to linger a few seconds, he’d have heard Unsui say smugly to Ikkyuu, “He’ll threaten her, she’ll break his jaw…it’ll be love at first fight.”

On the part of Sasaki Koutarou

Akaba was strumming absently at his guitar when Koutarou kicked open the club room door.

“No, I won’t admit you’re right, because you’re wrong!” he was growling into his keitai.

Akaba studiously ignored his friend.  Instead, he concentrated on refining his current riff.

“Of course the position matters!” Koutarou snapped.  “It’s a question of poise, grace, leverage—”

Akaba hit a bad note, but he didn’t think Koutarou noticed, so he went back to smoothing out the end of the riff.

“Yeah, well, power doesn’t do you any good if you can’t hit the spot you’re aiming for!”

Only several years of practice prevented Akaba from snapping a string.

Koutarou fumed, stalked over, and thrust out his keitai.  “You tell him, Akaba!”

Akaba looked up with his best poker face.  “Tell what to whom?”

“Tell Mr. 60-Yard-Magnum that distance is nothing next to accuracy!”

“Leave me out of this,” Akaba said, standing.  “I feel dirty just being in the same room with your conversation.”

Koutarou clutched his jacket closed and looked scandalized.  “W-w-we’re not talking about that!” he shrieked in a high voice.  “It’s just a conversation about field goals!  Akaba is such a pervert!”

Akaba sat back down.  “You’re the one saying suggestive things.”

“I wouldn’t say suggestive things to Musashi over the phone!” Koutarou protested.  There were exactly five seconds of silence before he realized his mistake.

Akaba turned an interesting shade of green that clashed badly with his hair.  “I’m leaving,” he grunted, and fled.

Koutarou kicked his keitai down the hall—it ricocheted perfectly and put a nasty bump on the back of Akaba’s head.  “I didn’t mean it like that, you pervert!”

On the part of Kaitani Riku

“Really?” Riku said.

“Really,” Kid confirmed.

“Not even in the middle of—”

“Not even,” he interrupted tactfully.

Riku peered around Kid at Tetsuma, who was walking on Kid’s other side.  “That’s…kinda weird.”

“You get used to it.”

“I like girls.  They never shut up.”

“Okay, maybe you won’t get used to it.”

Behind them, one of the linemen grumbled.  “Remind me again why we’re walking back from the practice game?”

“Riku’s meeting up with his latest girl,” snickered another.  “It’s on our way.”

“The cute brunette from Oujou’s cheerleaders?”

“Nah, that was last month.  This month it’s one of those rowdy girls from Yamaoka.”

“The Yamaoka Yankees?” someone squawked.  “They’re bad news!”

“I hear they work for Hiruma!”

“Shhhh, he might hear you…like one of those demons that comes when you call, even if you don’t mean it…”

There was a mild commotion of the line shuffling around and shushing one another, but Kid stared stolidly ahead.

“I guess compared to those guys, even Tetsuma is normal…” Riku muttered.  “Ah, there they are!”  He pointed.

About twenty meters ahead was a group of high school girls in the blood red colors of Yamaoka Girls Academy.  They were all wearing face masks and skirts that went past their knees, and some of them had weapons.  At the front was a redhead with a red metal bat, being loomed over by a familiar guy with long dreadlocks.  He seemed to be threatening her.

“Isn’t that Kongou Agon, from Shinryuuji?”

There was a loud clang from the red metal bat, accompanied by a pained squeak.

Kid winced in sympathy.  “That’s…not the one you’re dating, right?”

“Her best friend.”

“Good.”

On the part of Shin Seijuurou

The White Knights’ offensive lineup was taking a break from practice when Shin approached the bench.

“Sakuraba.”

The blond blinked and set aside his water bottle.  “What is it, Shin?”

Shin stared down at him with his customary blank, serious expression.  “I require specialized training.”

Sakuraba arched an eyebrow and tilted his head.  “I’m not sure I understand.”

Shin seemed to consider his wording carefully before speaking again.  “I lack a certain skill, and a certain girl insists that it is absolutely necessary that I master that skill.  I assumed you and Takami would be the proper people to ask, since you seem to be better with it than most.”

Sakuraba felt his ears turn red, and farther along the bench, Takami choked on his own water.  “W-what makes you say that?” Sakuraba squeaked.

Shin blinked.  “Well, I’ve seen you both doing it.  Sometimes together.”

Sakuraba thought his face was going to catch fire.  His mind raced, and he went over all the moments of indiscretion he could recall, checking for the possibility of being seen.

Takami came over to them and quickly interjected.  “Wait, Shin…what exactly is this skill you’re going on about?”

Shin blinked again.  “Using electronics, of course.”

“I thought so,” said Takami.

“So he really is that oblivious,” Sakuraba muttered in relief.

“Why, what did you think I was talking about?” Shin asked, guilelessly.

To Sakuraba’s vindication, Takami blushed, cleared his throat, and slunk off like a coward.

Sakuraba patted his friend (somewhat parentally) on the shoulder.  “Don’t worry about it, Shin.  I’ll explain it when you’re older.”

Ootawara loomed over them and said (rather loudly), “Hey, are you guys talking about sex?”

On the part of Kakei Shun

“You’re supposed to bathe in it?” Kakei asked, turning the box to try reading the directions again.  They still didn’t make much sense.

Haruko chuckled faintly.  “W-well, that’s the general idea, Kakei-senpai.  You fill the tub with bath jelly, and, uh…it feels nice.  We thought, since Mizumachi-senpai likes swimming so much, you might be able to get some…enjoyment…out of it…”  She waggled her eyebrows expressively.

Kakei regarded her blankly.  “It all seems…very perverted to me.”

Blushing, the little cheerleader laughed and smacked him (quite hard) on the back.  “Oh, stop!  Kakei-senpai, I’m blushing…would the Poseidon cheerleaders suggest that you go do perverted things with Mizumachi-senpai in the bath?”

He blinked.  “Perhaps if there was a good vantage point and enough video tapes to last a while.”

“And popcorn,” she added with a cheerful chirp.

“Who’s got popcorn?” Mizumachi asked loudly, right behind them.  “Ooh, bath jelly!”  He plucked the box from Kakei’s stunned grasp and bounced around happily.

“You know what it is?” Kakei managed.

“Oh yeah, I’ve used it before.  The strawberry-scented kind.  It’s all ticklish and slippery.  Last time, I pulled a muscle.  From now on, I’m stretching thoroughly every time I use it!”  He smiled brightly.

Haruko had a handkerchief pressed firmly to her nose.  “Ahem,” she said.  “As I was saying, Kakei-senpai…it would be a shame if the stress became too much for you.  Please enjoy some relaxing leisure time at the usual public bath, which the cheerleaders have taken the liberty of renting for your private use.”

“Yay, let’s go!” cheered Mizumachi.  “Oi, Kakei, did you hear Kongou Agon got beat up by some girl?  Looks like they’re dating now…”

On the part of Raimon Tarou

“…and then I’ll ask her,” Monta finished.  “So, what do you think, Sena?”

Sena didn’t have the heart to point out all the flaws in Operation:  Ask Mamori-chan On a Date (version 6.2.0, revised).  “W-well,” he stalled.  “The flowers are a good idea.”

“Hah!  Of course they are,” Monta exclaimed triumphantly.  “But the clothes—what do you think about the clothes?”

“This is Mamori-neechan, after all.  I wouldn’t say that the clothes particularly matter as long as—”

“What’s this?” said a Certain Fanged Someone from behind Sena.  “According to my notes…she’s easily impressed by nice clothes.  The flashier, the better!”

“Yoshyaa!” Monta cried, leaping up and running out of the clubhouse.

“An outright lie,” Sena grumbled.  “You’re terrible.”

“I lie all the time,” Hiruma scoffed dismissively.  “Can I help it if I’m surrounded by gullible idiots?”

Sena felt the corner of his eye begin to twitch.  “All the time…” he echoed in a flat tone.  “Somehow, such frankness isn’t impressive coming from you.”

“What?  You say my honesty is refreshing, and you’d like to join the ranks of my devoted slaves?”

Vengefully, Sena gave Hiruma an innocent look.  “What’s this?” he mocked.  “You say the Great and Powerful Hiruma Youichi stared moronically at Valentine’s Day chocolate for five full minutes before he realized he was being asked on a date?  I must spread the news!”  He leaned toward the changing room and cupped his hands around his mouth.  “Listen to this, everyone!”

As expected, the muzzle of a rifle was quickly pressed against the back of his head, but it was worth it to know that he had blackmail material on the Demon of Deimon High.