Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Snack Time ❯ Keigo ( Chapter 5 )

 

Tite Kubo owns Bleach. I just borrowed the characters.

 

Keigo

 

Keigo was hot and bored. No one had been around after school for the last few days and he was sick of playing video games and hanging out by himself. If you hung out it should be with someone else. Hanging out on your own was pathetic. Slouching around the streets alone was no fun and he was sick of his own company. He knew all his own jokes and didn't laugh at them much anymore. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked not knowing where he was going. Why should that matter? If he walked far enough he might see someone he knew.

 

If he stayed home he was picked on by his sister. Didn't she understand that he was the head of the house and she should listen to him? Okay, she was older. And she cooked and had more common sense and was better than him at most things. But he was still the male. Males were superior.

 

With his awesome masculine strength he could defeat any woman. Well, maybe he couldn't defeat Tatsuki or his sister and though he hadn't really tried he didn't think he would have much luck defeating Honshou. Maybe he would be able to defeat Ichigo's sister with his fearsome male muscles. Not Karin, she was pretty fierce. Yuzu, yes, he could defeat Yuzu, with help, as long as Ichigo didn't find out.

 

Every one had become dull. He knew they were studying, just to show him up. Ichigo continually refused his invitations to hang out together. Chad was always busy. That honey, Orihime, was very elusive; not that he would dare ask her out. He wanted to continue breathing. He wasn't sure who would inflict the most injury if he tried. He was scared of being beaten up by either the girls or the guys. Thinking about it made the sweat trickle down his face. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. He hated it when it was this hot.

 

There was no way he wanted to hang out with Uryu. That guy had no sense of humour. Coming top in the class meant he must be really boring. It would be embarrassing to be seen talking to him. Keigo would lose all social standing. People would question his popularity. Why Ichigo spent any time talking to the guy amazed Keigo. What could they have in common, unless, unless Ichigo had taken up sewing.

 

Keigo thought about it for a few seconds, picturing Ichigo with a thimble on his finger, pushing a needle through some cloth as he discussed patterns with Uryu. The whole picture was so wrong. Or was it? Maybe he was correct. Ichigo was a closet embroiderer! He liked to sew! Keigo decided to keep a close watch on Ichigo; check for any stray thread, pins stuck into his shirt, anything that would betray his new fetish.

 

What sort of things would Ichigo make? Toys or clothes? Or would he make fancy embroidered tablecloths? Keigo was not sure. He might start looking through Ichigo's bag every so often just to check if he was keeping his sewing hidden in there. Then again, that might result in pain.

 

It wouldn't fit in with Ichigo's image, but Keigo knew that eventually people would accept the truth, once he provided the proof. On reflection, he decided it was a bad idea. Ichigo would not allow that sort of rumour to go unpunished. Keigo might have a masochistic streak, but there were limits to amount of pain he liked to experience. Some pain was fun.

 

Mizuiro was not spending as much time with Keigo, not that he ever did. Keigo suspected that he might be studying too. It was a conspiracy. Everyone had decided they would improve their grades, just to make him look bad. Either that or he was dating again. Keigo could never understand why Mizuiro was so popular with females. He wasn't especially good looking, or tall, or rich. What did he have that Keigo lacked? It just wasn't fair. No one was being fair.

 

Any one would think that school was important the way they carried on. School was just a past time, a way of keeping teenagers off the streets for a greater part of the day. It wasn't as serious as everyone believed. For a brief moment Keigo thought of going home and studying, just to prove he could get highly ranked in the class. It was a very brief moment. Keigo shuddered. Studying meant opening text books and reading them. It meant having to think about things other than games, girls and food.

 

Keigo wandered past the houses, not really looking, not caring where he was going. Maybe he would go to the supermarket and hang around. It was air conditioned at least.

 

He turned around and headed in that direction.

 

The supermarket was cool and deserted. Keigo wandered around, stopping every so often to pick something up and put it back. He was still bored, but at least he wasn't hot. He lingered over the DVD's they had. Some of them he wouldn't watch in a million years. No, make that a trillion years. Why people would buy such junk was beyond him. Why didn't they sell stuff that appealed to normal people, like him? Instead they brought out all this stuff based on books written by weird people in the past. What about a good modern story with plenty of sex and violence? It didn't matter about the plot, as long as the sex was explicit and the violence was graphic or the sex was graphic and the violence was explicit. Either way would be good, or both. Yeah. Keigo fantasised about the movie he would make if he had the chance.

 

Maybe he would give Orihime the starring role, if she agreed to be his girlfriend. Not that he would let her participate in any of the graphic stuff. Or he could wait until he was famous, then she would just naturally fall for him. Didn't females always fall for the rich, important and famous guys like him? He brightened at the thought. It was going to happen. He pictured Orihime hanging possessively on his arm as they walked past the paparazzi yelling at them to look that way. She kissed him lingeringly as he held her close with the camera's taking thousands of photos. Everyone would be so jealous!

 

“Hi, Keigo. What are you doing here,” a voice interrupted his fantasy.

 

Mizuiro was looking at him quizzically. “I didn't know you liked hanging around supermarkets. I didn't think you knew where this one was,” he commented.

 

Keigo felt embarrassed. “I ,er, um, I came in to get some snacks. Yes, snacks. I was feeling hungry and I thought some snacks might help. What are you doing here? Having a break from all that studying?” Keigo emphasised the last word strongly. His hands were sweaty.

 

Mizuiro raised his eyebrows. “Studying? Why do you think I've been studying?”

 

“I can never find you after school. You don't answer your phone. No one seems to answer their phone when I ring. I have to hang out by myself. If you're not studying, what are you doing?” Keigo by this time had grabbed the front of Mizuiro's shirt as he ranted.

 

Mizuiro removed Keigo's hands. “Look, what you've done,” he said indicating the wet patches on his shirt. “I'll have to change this shirt now. I'm not studying more than normal, not really. I just have other things to do.”

 

“I thought we were friends,” Keigo cried.

 

“We are friends, but we see each other at school. I don't have to spend all my time with you,” Mizuiro replied rationally

 

“You've got other friends,” Keigo accused.

 

“Of course I've got other friends. I'm friendly with a lot of people.”

 

“But you're my best friend,” Keigo said emotionally.

 

Mizuiro looked at Keigo his mouth compressed into a small “o” of surprise.

 

“Aren't we best friends?” Keigo asked urgently.

 

Flushing a little, Mizuiro replied hesitantly, “Well, you are a friend and we hang out together at school, but I've never thought of you as my best friend.”

 

Tears poured down Keigo's cheeks. “I don't have a best friend any more. No one wants to hang out with me and I'm crying in a supermarket,” he sobbed loudly.

 

“Stop crying, Keigo. This is so embarrassing. Okay, I'm your best friend. Will you stop crying now?” Mizuiro looked around the supermarket to see if anyone was paying attention.

 

“Do you mean it?” Keigo asked still crying.

 

“Yes,” Mizuiro replied reluctantly.

 

“Then come back to my place and have some snacks,” offered Keigo.

 

Sighing gently, Mizuiro agreed.

 

Keigo quickly grabbed a basket grabbing items off the shelves without looking at what he was taking, talking excitedly all the while. “I have some great new games to show you. I've wanted someone to help me with the two player games. Get whatever you want. I'll pay.”

 

Mizuiro took some things from the basket and replaced them on the shelf. “I don't think we need creamed corn or oyster sauce. Here, get some Pocky and some of these bagel chips.”

 

When they finally arrived at the cashier, Keigo found he didn't have enough money to pay for all the items.

 

Mizuiro sighed again, and paid the difference.

 

Once outside the supermarket Keigo started moving quickly to his home, but was forced to slow down due to the heat. Ambling along Mizuiro caught up. The sun had set, but it had not become much cooler. They briefly talked about the weather, but the heat made it hard to concentrate on talking and walking at the same time.

 

When they arrived at Keigo's house, his sister was not happy to see Keigo had brought home a friend. She softened immediately when she saw it was Mizuiro.

 

“Great. Maybe you can make this sad excuse for a brother be less of a pest. He's been in a sour mood for the last few weeks. Won't study, won't help around the house.” Seeing the shopping bags, she asked, “Did you buy the stuff I asked for?”

 

Keigo shrugged. Mizuho quickly looked through the bags.

 

“You bought all this stuff and you didn't remember the things I asked you to get? Don't blame me if there's no milk or juice. You'd think you could remember just two items.”

 

I'll go and get some,” Mizuiro offered, wanting to escape from the fight that was brewing.

 

“No, Keigo will go. Won't you Keigo?” Mizuho demanded. “Mizuiro can stay here and tell me how well you're doing in school.”

 

“I've got no money,” Keigo whined.

 

“What about the money you got out yesterday?”

 

“I spent it on this stuff.”

 

Reluctantly Mizuho gave him some money. “Don't take too long and don't bring anyone else home today.”

 

Swearing to himself and sweating in the heat Keigo went to the closest shop and managed to find the milk and juice.

 

“It's too hot to be doing all this walking around,” he thought. “Once I get home, I'm not moving.”

 

Returning home, Keigo found his sister and best friend playing the game he had wanted to play with Mizuiro.

 

“Life just isn't fair. I do all the work and she has all the fun,” he thought as he loudly closed the door.

 

Neither his sister nor friend paid any attention. Grumpily he put the milk and juice in the fridge and sat at the table. He watched for a while as they played through the levels. They were good, but neither was as good as him. He quietly started humming one note as he knew it irritated his sister. She ignored him. He increased the volume and she still ignored him. He hummed louder again and noticed she was starting to lose concentration on the game.

 

Keigo decided to increase the volume just a little more. Before he did so, his sister lost her life. Game over for both of them.

 

Mizuho turned around and gave Keigo a dirty look. “You did that deliberately. You really don't like sharing, do you? Either your friends or your toys.”

 

Brother and sister glared at each other, years of mutual resentment in their stare.

 

“You ate my special birthday chocolate,” accused Keigo moving closer to his sister.

 

“You licked my teddy bear. That was gross. I never wanted to cuddle it again after that.”

 

“You stole my pink bunny,” Keigo whined.

 

“You borrowed my favourite CD and lost it,” Mizuho retorted rising from her chair.

 

“I didn't lose it. I lent it to someone but I forget who it was,” Keigo answered lamely. “Anyway, you use my aftershave as perfume.”

 

“You've got to be joking! That stuff? You steal my perfume,” Mizuho retaliated moving a short distance from her brother.

 

“Only once, for a prank. You bend the pages of my books to mark the place.”

 

“You never do the washing up.”

 

Mizuiro got up and moved silently to the door. Keigo saw him and decided that the fight could wait until later.

 

“No, Mizuiro, don't go. We haven't had a chance to talk. We'll stop fighting, won't we, Sis?” he continued, nudging his sister.

 

She trod on his foot hard. “We're not fighting. Just talking about old times,” she agreed.

 

Unenthusiastically, Mizuiro stopped.

 

“Let's sit down and snack,” Keigo suggested. “Let's see what we have.”

 

Removing the snacks from the bag Keigo realised why the total had been so high. He really should have paid attention. He'd bought Belgian chocolate, French biscuits, dolmades (what the hell were they?) cashews, Vegemite and other foreign snacks. He should have stuck to seaweed snacks, bagel chips and Pocky.

 

Mizuho looked at the food spread out on the table. “What were you thinking?”

 

“I wanted to try some new things. I'm sick of eating the same nibbles all the time,” Keigo said weakly.

 

“I suggested some of the groceries,” Mizuiro said hastily, eager to avoid witnessing another argument between the siblings.

 

“Okay. That's fine. Get some plates out Keigo and some glasses. Don't just stand there like a moron,” Mizuho directed.

 

Keigo automatically followed his sister's directions.

 

They sat down and shared the food. Keigo found out he hated dolmades. Stuffed vine leaves were not as good as sushi. Mizuiro happily ate them. The brother and sister squabbled over the chocolates and biscuits. They all enjoyed the chips and pretzels.

 

Keigo piled some Vegemite onto a biscuit and bit into it. One tasted of the stuff proved that Australians were weird and had no taste buds. No one would eat that stuff willingly. Or maybe Australia had been settled by the Spartans. Vegemite might equal that black broth they always talked about. Why they craved it was a mystery. Keigo decided to give the Vegemite to Orihime. He'd heard she liked peculiar food.

 

He tried to get Mizuho to try some but she refused. “I saw the expression on your face when you bit into it. No thanks. If you don't like it, I probably won't either.”

 

They talked little as they snacked except to insult each other's choice of snack or to ask for something to be passed. Mizuiro was quiet unless asked a direct question. Keigo wondered why he seemed so uncomfortable. He also briefly wondered why he had been in the supermarket. He hadn't bought anything.

 

As soon as they finished eating, Mizuiro looked at his watch pointedly. “Sorry. I didn't realise it was so late. I need to pick up something from the supermarket before closing time, so I'd better leave now. I'll see you at school, Keigo. Thanks for inviting me over,” he said as he made a hasty exit through the door.

 

Keigo was too late to prevent his departure.

 

“He left so quickly because of you,” he accused his sister, bitterly.

 

“It's you he doesn't like,” she replied. Her voice was scornful and her expression matched her voice.

 

“He does like me. He's my best friend.” His voice wavered uncertainly as he made this statement remembering their earlier conversation.

 

“I don't think so. If he is your best friend he'd visit you more often.”

 

“He told me he was my best friend. He said it in public,” Keigo protested.

 

“I suppose you were crying at the time,” his sister accused triumphantly. She was smiling, a nasty twisted smile.

 

“Why would you say that?” He was hurt at her correct summation of the situation. When did she become so perceptive?

 

“You always cry. You do it to try to get your own way. It's always worked on Mum and Dad, so you keep using it. I find it embarrassing,” Mizuho stated firmly. She crossed her arms and sighed loudly as she looked at him.

 

“I don't have to listen to this. I'm going to my room. Don't disturb me,” Keigo said and stormed off.

 

Remembering his earlier idea, Keigo decided he would try to study for school. Bravely he studied Japanese Literature for 10 minutes before deciding it was just too hard. Reading books was not fun. He spent 15 minutes trying to study maths only to find that it made less sense to him than Japanese Literature. Why did they he need to learn these complicated equations? Would he need them when he was famous? Studying was too hard.

 

He started playing with his computer instead. His stomach hurt from eating too much. The glare from the computer screen was giving him a headache. He turned off the screen and went to bed, dissatisfied with the day.

 

“Is Mizuiro my best friend, or did he lie? If only I had a girlfriend! Maybe Orihime will like me after she tries the Vegemite. Maybe I should lower my standards and try for a girl in a junior year,” Keigo thought.

 

He hugged his pillow as he tried to sleep. He still missed his pink bunny.

 

Author's Note:

 

Explanations:

 

Vegemite is a savoury sandwich spread rich in Vitamin B. It is very popular in Australia. The English Marmite is similar, but not as good. You spread Vegemite thinly; otherwise the flavour is too strong.

 

Dolmades are a Greek specialty of spiced rice wrapped in vine leaves.

 

Black Broth. The Spartans had a dish called black broth. It was made of whatever ingredients were available. From accounts of the time only the Spartans enjoyed it.

 

I am an Australian and I can insult Vegemite, which I happen to love. Please forgive me, Vegemite. The cruel words were not meant. I was joking.

 

If you've read Chapter 8 of Daydreams Come True you might recognise the first few paragraphs of this chapter. It works better as a Snack Time chapter and I've always wanted to write a chapter featuring Keigo. I hope you like it.

 

I will continue to update Snack Time infrequently. I am concentrating on other stories at present.

 

Review please.

 

MS