Jason 323 Comet Chaser Reflector Telescope

[Nana] Stardust

Title: Stardust
Fandom: Nana
Characters: Takumi / Hachi
Rating: PG for language
Disclaimer: The characters of Nana are © of Ai Yazawa.
Notes: We saw "that night" through the eyes of Hachiko. With these few lines I imagined the prospect of Takumi, rightly or wrongly.
Warning: written in May 2003, with this premise: "I hate spoilers, so I only have a vague idea of the real developments in the history between the two. On the other hand this is just a fanfiction, born shortly after reading chapter 16. He speaks of light, dark, and how easy it is to lose both. "

" Wait here, "he says, and right now is offering a last chance: if he wants to change his mind , take your time to do it. It can slip out from the main entrance or in the garage and go home, taking away the only loot his praises and kisses just before texturing, poetic as commuter traffic returning from work and car horns trumpeting nervous.

no evidence in the least surprised to find it again near the elevator, and when the invitation to get in a room that is not his, in a hotel other than that which houses the rest of the band, she follows him docile and silent, a veil of blush dusted his cheeks. Have you seen this scene a million times and the naturalness with which the pattern repeats itself, always the same, it's almost depressing. It 's only one suite, all the gods. And that's not even my black Mercedes, but the production . But

taught him to hide the intolerance behind a winning smile, and these are the moments when the good student is building on the lesson. As she moves, and crazy cackles like a top, in the ostentatious luxury of an otherwise bare room, he ordered dinner and suggested to pass the time making a bathroom.

Again she nodded obediently and is embarrassed, or confused, it's just a shadow passes over her face and pulling them back promptly. On the other hand are just stalling, is the only certainty they have and vibrates like una nota distorta nelle troppe parole di lei e nella voce vellutata di lui, simile ai fruscii dei dischi in vinile, e nemmeno il rumore dell’acqua, leggero dietro la porta, riesce a camuffarla.

E’ in grado di prevedere ogni singolo frammento della notte che sta per avvolgerli, le cose che dirà lei e quelle che accennerà lui, e accostandosi all’enorme finestra sorride amaro di questa semplicità. Ha la mente vuota e piena al tempo stesso mentre preme la fronte contro il vetro e osserva la città svegliarsi sotto di lui, le luci che si accendono in rapida successione e scintillano contro il cielo nero. E’ splendida, Tokyo di notte, has something magical and eerie together and see it from above, in perfect silence, it is a privilege that few can enjoy.

startled when they come knocking at the door and it's strange, because the waiters on the floor always have a very delicate touch, the first option, and when the boy in livery enters pushing the cart with the food Takumi hands him a generous tip and throws him out a second before she emerges from the bath.

So ends that you bring to the table and is a very curious picture, she eats caviar and duck him in a bathrobe and sipping red wine in the elegant Armani suit, the Italian designer suggested by management. Ren will be dark, Naoki the Kid, the vocalist Reira sensual and refined than he is sleeping here is the recipe that brought them success and it is no coincidence that, in the photos that make up the book of Trapnest, Ren and Naoki are often confined in the background. The music and talent, and even though there are more than evident, with up to a point.

E 'cute while shaking hands in the cutlery as a little girl and a little' stupid, who speaks with his mouth full, and maybe imagine being Julia Roberts in "Pretty Woman", dealing with an environment light years away from what used to attend. I'm always pretty, this is part of the game. Sometimes they have a name, most are just bodies and leaving the heat between the sheets will disappear quickly, even before that staff have cleaned up the room. Remind him of the birds attracted to shiny objects, and this is why give them what they want and return what they receive: a dream made of fog, which begins when the door opens and dissolves a few hours later, when he leaves the room. They believe that real that it is a reflection of air and light, a mirage blinding lights up only in specific conditions.

Since I arrived in Tokyo there was some woman in the bed of Ren and different to Naoki, while those that have passed since his has stopped counting, even if he remembers perfectly the first time, after the show's debut . They had gone to a party and were drunk, recklessly, and its local agent had made a very beautiful girl and very naked, with eyes bilayers and long raven hair, which had approached and walked like a cat that is purr. Not even ten minutes later they wrapped up a stool and if it was brought to the hotel, a fantastic night that he had awoken from completely stunned. There were no comments from bitter part of Reira, who found this type of inappropriate behavior, but he had shrugged and he winked in the direction of Naoki, who looked at the ceiling displaying a guilty indifference.

To calm the waters had been necessary to the operation of their agent, who explained the situation to a point of view impeccable honesty and straight: you're a new band, and a bit 'of gossip that can not make good . Only if Ren had been silent, smoking a cigarette after another and hiding his eyes in a cup of black coffee.

Sad but true, those were the rules and it was useless, not to say Malicious, believed themselves to be above. On the other hand, Takumi had to adapt very quickly: after there had been a fan who was waiting in the dressing room, petite and pretty, and then the girl who made eyes at Ren but he was content with the bassist, in that sufficient funding was one of Trapnest ... A couple of times was over the cover of a magazine for teenagers, which gave a flirtation with un'idol on the rise, and in an interview claimed to be a regular guy, sensitive, waiting for the right woman. He laughed for hours, reading it, thinking of the press pack that had been delivered just before and the slew of questions and answers desk study. But to someone who really cared was Takumi? Who'd be interested in the truth and falsehood of his words?

E 'so that month after month on which the carousel rose began to give him nausea, turns a little' too fast and leaves no time to breathe, much less what to think, but paid for the ticket and is determined to enjoy the journey all the way, get off at the cost of throwing up. Do not even know why he chose her today. In the pocket of the jacket is a business with four phone numbers, but has preferred to support the ironic Ren and ask this girl's cell phone which now looks closer and becomes more and more small-size beds and queen silk sheets. If I ask, let it go away without doing anything.

Maybe because he saw the house where she lives with her and shared food, trivial and juicy red tomatoes, or because he likes the nickname that his friends have buckled, Hachi, which is tender and funny and is in the brush. But maybe, deep down, just want to believe that all this means to know and make the most natural thing, even sincere.

From wide-eyed look loose robe that leaked the other hand, are saying that a part of you would react, run away, but another, the smallest and naive, but is beaten in a moth to the light. It's called desire, it is easy to understand, but never like this when Takumi is aware that there's more: it is called hope, is almost incomprehensible and frightening.

Because it is a misplaced confidence, a pair of lovers are not the first experience, but two strangers whose paths have crossed for the first case and then calculating, and this will be a cold night like other, a little 'less bleak but still false.

Although the bodies are based with some transport, the mouth is numb and do not perceive any flavor that tastes, so make love to her in a hurry, the last formalities to be completed and then everything ends . Now limited to satisfying a need and this is not "Pretty Woman" but her ridiculous caricature of a script without a happy ending. Gold dust, dispersed in a whisper.

After washing carefully in the mirror and comb my hair has its strong point and that more than once asked can cut or at least curtail, then returns to wear the same suit, reeking of sweat and smoke too many cigarettes. Later it will move from room to get a clean shirt, can not stand on the skin of this track Fahrenheit mixed with loneliness. Now he understood, sex is a powerful anesthetic but short-lived, and when the effect wears off just filled the gaps appear whenever the largest and most desolate.

begins to regret the games of Mah-jong, is becoming all so exhausting. It should be a spontaneous and intimate contact, but paradoxically has become the most cold and mechanical, which pushes away rather than closer, and Takumi now has only the temples that pulsate and desire to leave.

you will still be sleeping, or that deep sleep and calm is yet another fiction? The temptation to approach and control is very strong, and maybe sit on the bed caressing a shoulder or brushes her hair from her forehead, as he did before sinking into her and close her eyes, unable to sustain that look so clear and hungry of love. Touch lightly

clothes left on the chair, now cold but still imbued with the scent, an aroma of intense and delicate flowers. Instead moves cautiously toward the table and pulls out a pen from the drawer.

What are you doing on nights like this, Hachiko? How to justify yourself? I tell myself that after all is what I always wanted my music, success and a pile of sex. It lasts as long as there is nothing wrong with a little advantage ', is not it? I have fun, you enjoy yourself, we both have something to tell your friends and there are no complications. But it is a great ball. Although it is true that everyone likes to stay near the fire burns but does not want anyone .

rereads what he has written and you feel sorry for himself, the young rock star with crises of conscience and inner conflicts, who fears the dark, but discovers he has the most beautiful eyes too delicate to endure the spotlight.

Tear up the paper and scribble the first thing that comes to mind. It 's the number of his mobile phone, latest model, kindly donated by the production.

*

Beep beep.

It 's almost out of the dressing room when he hears the monotonous trill that announces an incoming message. Go back and take the phone, dropped it on the table, and reads with eyes hasty lines on the display.

... hang up at the end of the tour. Nana:)

Select function Reply and meanwhile try to focus on the smiling face of her, the sweetness of her skin, the scent of honey in her hair. Think of a word, phrase or just a friendly greeting.

Someone beats a knock on the wood of the door, and the voice of Ren annoyed that calls from the hallway.

"Takumi Come on, now!"

clutching the phone in his hand, then quickly scroll the menu.

Delete the message?

In its dullness, the phone is doing to Takumi a question of fundamental importance, that has nothing to do with a few strange characters and emotions of the message just read.

hear the answer from the heart to slowly slide your fingers, the words take shape and then get caught on the keyboard.

a key is pressed and the display is now a blank screen.

I have his number in memory , he thinks as he reaches the other and together they set out towards the stairs to the stage. In the background, fans screaming their names, and a shiver runs down my spine thinking about the magic of that soon shall cover them all.

I'll call later.

Knowing full well that after will always be too late, too tired, too busy. Too far

.

Broken Small Capillaries Running

[Slam Dunk] Fade

Title: Fade
Fandom: Slam Dunk
Characters: Myth, Fuji, plus various appearances.
Rating: PG for language
Disclaimer: The characters of Slam Dunk by Takehiko Inoue is ©: time passes, the magic remains intact.
Thanks to Stephen King and his The Body, published in Italy by Sperling & Kupfer in the collection "Different Seasons".
Notes: The streets are divided at times, whether we like it or not. Friends change, or maybe we do it: in the end it makes no difference. From a famous image dell'artbook and Chapter 186, a short story long remained in the drawer and dedicated to a character that I really loved. Tell us about something simple and complex as the friendship ... or at least that was the intention.

The photo had ended in the hands emptying a drawer of the desk as he prepared to move. It was ruined, with the corners overblown and a crack that crossed from one side, but without spoiling any of the people's faces portrayed. A curious thing, it seemed almost a form of respect for the magic of memory, which in fact had remained the same and had sucked all of a sudden.

decade.

A lot of time, he thought, turning it over in his fingers.

Look ... we fucked up faces

If I remember well the day when they had taken, and remembered better than the girl who had given him two years after that copy , shortly before leaving from Kanagawa, in a red envelope with his name above the kanji of the paths with a large black marker. There was she in the photo, that looking over my shoulder with that funny expression.

"Hold You", had told him, embracing him. "And sometimes think of me."

He had done much more than occasionally, but had also done away with the picture because it had indeed set a perfect time, the promises that were followed and many other things, yet had not been able to tell the most important of all, namely how and why they had ended up in the middle of the group, their own that had nothing to do.

***

It was still spring, but the sky looked like the hotter the summer, and as usual the group did not need to agree. The first to arrive was Takamiya, who had to kill time decorated with colorful glass wafted in the room. As expected Okusu Noma and had reached a little later and in the end had come too Myth and Sakuragi, walking slow, shuffling steps, planted his hands in his pockets and his eyes half-closed to shelter from the stinging rays of the sun. En route, the two had established the absolute need for the purchase of sunglasses that not only protect the view of the new genius of basketball, would have undoubtedly played their part with (if any) girls. Stops in front of the pachinko, the five were trying to better organize the usual Sunday ritual, fancazzismo to the bitter end, when he materialized a diversion so unusual as surprising: the monkey and his trainer Kainan, aka Maki Kiyota Nobunaga and Shin'ichi .

Apart from the obvious and embarrassing curtain between Kiyota and Sakuragi, others were born somewhere between amused and resigned, when the captain of Kainan had mentioned the "Star Aichi and the National League's expression had changed Sakuragi, and the same had happened to one of his friends and Myth in particular, whose features had been distorted in a subtle bitter grimace. In a sense he hated Maki and his few words, what would you want to join us that there seemed to be thrown at random, a neutral phrase, yet balanced enough to whet the curiosity and boisterous egotism of Sakuragi. It was the tone of voice, one bass and a solid accustomed to being obeyed without much effort? O look, almost detached and ironic, of sufficiency? In any case, Maki had succeeded in taming a few minutes and perhaps Hanamichi ... Takamiya, for once, was the most perceptive of all nell'affibbiargli the nickname offensive.

Eventually the red had followed the two of Kainan, shamefully, the so-called "star" and asking a furious Kiyota money for the train ticket. And, for the first time in years, had left to itself the glorious Army.

Mito, Takamiya, Noma Okusu and had watched them leave and then, orphans of their spearhead, were finally gone. Again Takamiya was the first to set a good example of a colonizing of pachinko machines, your ass glued to the chair and his eyes to the screen. For some time there had been only the sound and hypnotic rhythm of the iron balls and improvised along chaotic trajectories, then Noma had given voice to the thoughts of all.

"Ugh ... now also Hanamichi has completely lost his mind for basketball."

Mito he realized immediately that particular, the choice of the proper name and not the usual Sakuragi. Takamiya and Okusu had not done praying and throwing in the uproar that had taken for a ride, the famous athlete who had no more time for ordinary mortals, but not hide his disappointment then they were so good.

eyes fixed on the screen, Mito had heard his voice come out slowly, as if he were chewing the syllables.

"However, I must say it looks pretty funny. Basketball, I say. "

Even the sound of marbles, strong in his ears, to cover a lighter sound and subtle but equally disturbing that gnaw the base of the neck. Jealousy? No, jealousy was a feeling too trivial for Myth, a word too stupid, good only to tease.

Envy, then? Here, This rather frightened him, because it was something very cruel and terribly true .... Envy, yes. Why now Sakuragi was a star, people turned to look at when going through the corridors of high school and some girls giggled and nudged each other, even though he was too busy to notice by Haruko. But it was not even that was not his success to bother him. It was something deeper, which put pressure on points hidden and unexpected. It was the sudden explosion of his talent? Yes ... because all of a sudden Sakuragi was better than him. Until then, there were no differences between them and indeed, in some how he felt one step ahead. More adult, Myth, more responsible, stronger, and Sakuragi seemed to have needed him. Like when he took the blame for the brawl in the gym. A nice gesture, they had all thought, and even myth had believed for a while ', as he shrugged his shoulders and pretending to be talking to Haruko detachment that was far from feeling.

The gesture of a true friend. Yeah.

"And if I had not defended?" I think more and more often. And if Sakuragi and the others were suspended if the basketball club ... si fosse sciolto… se… se… Si chiedeva se sarebbe rimasto tutto uguale. La mitica Armata, i pomeriggi al pachinko, le risse, il perdersi dentro giornate sempre identiche, tutti insieme a condividere le stesse emozioni e la stessa vita… Magari era noioso o addirittura deprimente, sotto certi punti di vista, e allora avrebbe dovuto essere contento per Sakuragi, per la gioia fanciullesca e contagiosa che gli illuminava il viso ogni volta che parlava di quella stupida palla a spicchi, ogni volta che si accapigliava con Rukawa, ogni volta che si beccava i rimproveri del Gorilla, ogni volta che usciva dallo spogliatoio e si metteva a blaterare della fantastica azione che era riuscito a concludere…

The friendship was this, no?

Instead ... Instead Myth listened to him and smiled in silence, his lips turned up but did not reach the eyes. The bluster irritated him, laughter acute hurt his ears and increasingly was to invent an excuse to go to school alone, in the morning. The truth was that, from his action, to take the blame that his principal's office, their paths were divided Hanamichi and began to walk away, like a balloon that gets out of hand on a windy day , and all I could do was stay Myth staring at the sky, palm outstretched upwards. Follow up with eyes to see it disappear behind the clouds, merging with the sun.

Solitude. Envy and loneliness. Ugly beasts, those who feast with the brain without leaving even a crumb, and then go to the heart. That turn a hot sunny afternoon in a cloak of fog subtle and dense.

Takamiya was to shake him by the spiral of dark thoughts. Actually their cry shook the whole pachinko, and all for a packet of tissues with above absurd frog with eyes wide open. At that moment the envy of Sakuragi, traveling with Maki and Kiyota to Aichi, was almost blinding.

was almost hatred.

Why Sakuragi spoke another language now, was launched into a new and much better world, while he was nailed on that plastic chair, a day after another, and there was no talent to appeal to, and therefore there was no choice. Would have remained a step behind, forever.

***

"You use that bucket?"

"Eh? No ... "

" passamelo Then, we reverse the garbage. "

The extensions to the container with listless and began to wipe the floor of the classroom. This was something that was really a pain, there was nothing I hated more than the entire education system, not even rule on that ridiculous haircut. If you do not even cleaned her, stationed, what fucking reason was to spend one afternoon a month to clear up a class of twenty-five assholes? And to make matters worse, he would always shift with impossible people. Noma was not a dick Takamiya and undertook but it was absolutely denied and dirty instead of clean, while the girls put on that air efficiently from home and blasted to a minimum error.

And now ... now he had touched the Sphinx. Haruko's friend, Fuji. Always annoyed with that phrase, those orders disguised as required and that air of sufficiency that did not bother to hide when they watched the matches from the stands. Beautiful was that you were not obliged to make conversation, because so much spitting monosyllabic answer "yes", "no" and little else. This could also be an advantage, and it was secure every time you looked back at the turn of cleaning with Yamada, who had stoned a shrill laughter and chat absurd.

When it was brought rags and brooms in the closet down the hall and returned to class to retrieve the folder, then headed for the exit and greeted with a simple "hello" before parting ways and achieve their lockers. It was only three, but in the courtyard of Shohoku there was nobody waiting for him. Myth With a sigh she sat on the steps and rubbed the soles against the gravel, raising clouds of gray dust.

"Well, you have your minions in the lurch? "said the voice behind him.

"I could get the same question," he said, standing up without looking back. "Why is your girlfriends are not there?"

Fuji down the steps and began to walk away but, with eyes as he followed the movements of her dress, the myth was told.

"Matsui has a question and ran home tomorrow ... I do not know Haruko. I have not seen for days ... "Fuji turned to look. "He'll be planning your trip to Hiroshima," he concluded dry.

"Oh, yeah ... Hiroshima," said laconically. "The National League ..."

"Honour and glory to the school Shohoku, right?" She continued, bending his head to one side, a movement that found in the ear lobe and he shine a little brighter.

"Am I wrong or is there a slight vein of irony in your statement? "

The sudden loquacity of the clearing Fuji.

"Well, just a thread ... you want the truth?" He took a short break as you move the folder to hand to hand. Myth recoiled instinctively, almost had to dodge a blow coming, but despite this the words of Fuji took him by surprise anyway, thrown out like a punch in the stomach full.

"I basketball I do not give a shit."

"Then how come you do not lose a game?"

"And you, how come you do not lose one?"

** *

"There are times when I hate her," Fuji said between his teeth. "Where to pick up his little face by a slap that naive, hoping to make her understand just a little 'how I feel."

threw down the last sip a glass of Coke and crumpled in his fist . Sitting next to she Myth slipped a handful of chips in the mouth and said nothing, but handed back on the bench and allowed himself enveloped by the warmth of the sun. It had taken off his uniform jacket and had half a mind to take off your shoes too, but decided against it. He was not sure to wear socks without holes.

"I do not know why I come to tell you these things ..."

"Why do not you know me," he said with his mouth full. "They say it is easier to talk to strangers."

She grimaced Myth dried and lifted his free hand, touching his temple with his forefinger.

"And especially because you have to be completely normal."

Instead of answering, Fuji took the bag from his hands and crumpled as he did with his glass, he aimed ; the waste basket and shot a beautiful shot from three, centering it in full.

"I'm very impressed, but I'd like you to note that there were still some fries in it ..." Mito said following the path of the foil with hungry eyes and disappointed.

"Oh, sorry. But you know, are in the club's archery ... is not the aim but I'm missing. You in that club are you? "

" In theory, that of baseball. In practice no one. "

" Okay, "she said, banging his hands on his knees," you want me tell you a pathetic story? Haruko and I have known since Kindergarten. We live a few blocks from each other and can be say that we grew up together. As sisters. Same clothes, same passions, even their first crush was the same guy. Except for basketball, of course. Sometimes she and her brother convinced him to play with them, but gave in only after long and exhausting negotiations. An hour of basketball for two Mah-Jong, for example ... But it was something fun and certainly not an obstacle. There was a lot more to keep us connected. Then we come to Shohoku, sees Rukawa her and from that moment nothing else exists. Or rather, there are also Sakuragi and Takenori, but I do not know what I mean ... it's completely game. "

nodded Myth and awaited the result.

"But basketball is not even the issue ... well, it always has been, he was also fanatical average. Nor Rukawa, who earlier did a lot to me, that do not cagherà if ever. "

Fuji ran a curl behind her ear, looking more appropriate words. The earring shone again, small and discreet. "I do not know if I have to be changed, if she is or if we are both ... but I feel that now things are different. It is as if we were suddenly ended up two trains traveling in opposite directions on parallel tracks. We can see, we can talk ... but we can not reach. You know what I mean? "

Oh yes ... the Myth understood how.

"You know when the team went into withdrawal and you helped Sakuragi in those special training? In those days I did was call and tell me what was better, what was great, as it could do for the Shohoku ... And keep in mind that, as he spent his days in that fucking gym, we saw very little. I stood clutching the phone, listened to his monologue and did some commentary for the occasion. Then I was put down and the Magone. "

" Why? "

Fuji leaned in the same position of Myth, folded his hands on his belly and pushed the legs to the sun, throwing his head and closing his eyes.

"Hmm ... this actually prefer not to tell, but already there are ... A guy the third year I had just downloaded. It was also nice, you know? I was there I wanted to die, as red as the wax that is used for the seals ... and he said he was flattered but that he liked another and therefore could not accept. "

spoke Fuji and continued to keep their eyes closed. Her voice came out of the gorge, deep and slow.

"It could be humiliating, but it was just sad. But I had no one to tell it, because Haruko at this moment there are only the national championship, Sakuragi and Rukawa ... Indeed, we Rukawa's all. "

He turned his head and opened his eyes to the myth, finding that the boy was watching her profile, her eyebrows furrowed and her cheek resting on the forearm bent.

"Do not get me wrong ... we talked, of course. And she has followed the standard procedure: he has embraced and consoled me and said a lot of nice things ... did not even confide who insisted that the senpai was concerned ... I could say it was just perfect. But in this case would not be a compliment. "

Myth did not answer and once again the expected result.

"recognition. Here's how it was our conversation ... I could do the same with the school psychologist, "he said with a sad smile.

When they greet Haruko had said something like, call me if you need it, and was probably sincere while holding hands ... but the fact was that it was a lie. She needed here and now, and her best friend was not there. On the other hand, sat next to a guy with whom he had taken during the year so and no two sentences and that he believed a complete idiot. Was talking to him without falsehood and without fears, very personal things, and really crazy in all this was that he was to listen to it seriously and carefully.

"Want to know how I knew but Sakuragi? At the after-school averages, the one where they send their thugs and retards who need to recover the negative votes, "he whispered Myth. "And Noma and others, all in the same band. We spent the afternoons messing around and invent ways to get the least results with minimum effort. And we were pretty good, "he added, laughing quietly. "Having the reputation of bully is not so bad ... we do a lot of friends. "

sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees, leaving his hands dangling in the air. It was true. She did not remember those days better spent on after-school, where, paradoxically, was to count as your grades were low, if you had already tried to rub something in a shop without getting caught and stuff like that. Although he had always felt a little 'out of place, and meet Hanamichi was like the thousands yen in the street, a great stroke of luck. Mutual, he was convinced, and yet the fortune Sakuragi were of the Shohoku and basketball.

"I sometimes hate it. I would listen to him speak and to shatter his face. The things he says, as he tells his new friends ... fucking ... But it's not his fault. It's actually my fault. I can not accept change, even though I knew it would happen. It's too fast, "he said almost to himself. "I wish I had more time ... more than words ..."

"I know not ... nobody's fault, I think. And in any case it makes no difference, because it hurts, right? As a betrayal. "

" Yeah. "He looked at her new face. "Anyway the important thing is knowing how to cash in on the hit and damage limitation."

"Um ... but thou hast spoken?"

"A Sakuragi? Shit, no. What do I say? That is leaving me alone? What am I missing? At the very least would give me the fag, "he said tightening his lips. "Sorry Fuji ... but seriously, what would?"

Fuji did not answer, because myth was right. There were things that were simply understand, feel, or at least guessed. It made no sense to say, it was like doing a translation from English or solve an equation and match the data, x equals y. Put them on paper or give them a voice, even shouting, would not be used to erase the fear of change, to soften the loss of separation. I wish I had more words, he said Mito. Knowing full well that all the vocabularies of all languages of the world would not be enough if the other was not listening to you, if you do not even remotely imagine what was going on.

They stood in silence as the sky began to dye the colors of the sunset. A light wind blowing, which made the sound of leaves above them an unceasing murmur, like that of the waves or the rain of certain afternoons. The blue fading to pink and then nell'arancio, the sun cut the sky with golden streaks violent and began to sink slowly and cautiously into the sea, like a swimmer who is sensitive to cold water.

"You are an interesting guy, Fuji ..." he said, getting up in Mito feet.

"Yeah, right," she said imitating his gesture and picking up the folder from the ground.

"Look, I'm trying not ... can you imagine that we would be ridiculous pair? The best friend's best friend and Hanamichi Haruko ... "he said spreading his arms and stretching lazy.

Fuji smiled and handed him a blow on the chest with the back of the hand.

"You idiot, I know that there are feeling. Also because of us three are not I the one that interests you ... "he replied looking at the leaves above them.

Myth stood for a moment locked in a funny position to be crucified, the bewilderment on her face painted and unable to think of an answer that was not offensive or not betray the truth of that statement as outlined in the silence of the park . Then he blew the air out of the lungs and laughed, and was the first genuine laugh that came out a long time.

"Collect all I have said, Fuji. You're just a bitch. Rather ... I know, this guy in the third year? "

" Sure. The whole school knows him. It is very tall, very big and play basketball. Do you want the shirt number or you get there by yourself? "

Myth laughed again and shrugged her shoulders. There was really nothing more to add.

"So, we go to see the championship?" He said putting on the uniform jacket.

"I have no idea. Among other things, a ticket costs a bundle of money ... "Fuji stared at a point behind Myth of the shoulders and blinked a few times, then brought in his eyes and turned the question: "What about you?"

He left the top button undone and returned that look warm and melancholy.

"I have no idea ..." was the identical response.

But both knew that we would go. And once again they would have swallowed the anger and smile, and she to him to Hanamichi Haruko. Would take place in the stands in the front row, and would have cheered up to wear out your vocal cords and peeling hands, and in the unlikely event of a triumph of Shohoku were tears of joy and flooded the field, screaming and jumping like madmen. And maybe they could even be immortalized in official photos.

At the end of friendship is this, no?