°˖✧Gaijin✧˖°

°˖✧Lost in You (Inukawa Falls in Love)✧˖°

Another day, another day training with the Body Improvement Club. Shigeo pushes the sliding door open to the club room, not at all surprised to see the members of the Telepathy Club already sitting at their table. He walks inside and sets his bag against the wall. "Hello, everyone," he greets.

"Hey, Mob," Tome greets back, to which Kijibayashi and Saruta say their hellos as well... yet Inukawa stays quiet. That's unlike him.

He looks over, then. The sight that befalls him has his eyes widening. Inukawa has his elbow perched upon the table, his hand cupping his cheek as he looks off into space with a goofy smile on his face. But most of all... there's a huge bruise on his temple! "Inukawa-kun, what happened?" He asks. "That bruise looks quite painful..."

But he doesn't respond. If anything, it's like his words didn't even register in his brain. He's not even playing on any of his handheld video game systems, which is also unlike him. That expression of his doesn't falter even slightly.

"He got hit in the head with a baseball this morning," Tome says, munching on some chips. "I think he's got brain damage."

Is that why he was late to class? He wonders.

He stares at Inukawa for a couple moments more before he looks back at the girl. "Are people usually so happy to be hit in the head by baseballs?" He asks genuinely.

"I guess when the girl doing it is pretty enough, they are," she shrugs, not even bothering to look up from her video game.

Would he be happy if Ari hit him in the head with a baseball, he wonders to himself? Much to think about.

In reality, the entire thing was a complete accident. Inukawa just happened to be walking past the baseball field while morning practices were occurring, and a stray ball had flown over the fest, conking him in the head and sending him straight into unconsciousness.

But the first thing that he saw when he woke up in the nurse's office wasn't some big, sweaty dude in the baseball club. It'd been a face that, while it has matured quite a bit, was all too familiar with. The face of his childhood friend, Tawamure Junko, whom he had drifted apart from in their last year of elementary school.

She had been a scrappy thing then, her auburn hair styled in a choppy pixie cut and Band-Aids littering just about every limb of hers - she even had one on her face from time to time. She was loud and confident, able to rope him into any scheme that she had thought up that day with no problems at all.

Maybe it was because he liked her even then, or maybe it was because she had a way of convincing people. But he'll never forget the way that they both came down with colds after trying to find frogs after a rainstorm, which their parents were thoroughly pissed off at them for. The lectures they received while shivering underneath the covers of their shared futon was insane.

But now... wow. She's definitely blossomed. She's grown her hair out long enough to tie it in a chunky braid, for one, and she's filled out rather nicely - no longer the scrawny kid marred with bruises and scrapes, that's for sure. He felt tongue tied when she began to ramble at him.

"I'm so sorry, Mame-chan! I had no idea my home run was going to hit you!" She had groveled, but the majority of her apology went in one ear and out the other because...

Mame-chan. She still remembered that she used to call him that silly nickname. It was like time never passed between the two of them.

Why did they ever drift apart? He's not really sure, himself. They didn't have a fight or anything like that... it was just like they got pulled in opposite directions. That couldn't be any closer to the truth even now, given that he's a part of the Telepathy Club and she's a bonafide jock - the only girl in the Baseball Club, and the vice-captain to boot.