547 SERVICE / The Game (Part 2)
Title: The Game
Fandom: 547 SERVICE
Characters: Ryo x ひとみ
Genre: General
Table: One
Prompt: 023. False + a minute of failure
Word Count: 1646
Rating: R
Summary: The rules of The Game were very simple.
Author's Notes: Part 2 of The Game! For Part 1, click here.
~ For most men (till by losing rendered sager)
Will back their own opinions by a wager.
-- Lord Byron, "Beppo" ~
023. false
Haruki did not know what to think of her Math teacher.
It had only been three weeks since she started her college life, and although she’d had her fair share of strict teachers back in high school, they seemed to pale in comparison to her Algebra professor.
She knew Professor Hirose was not the type to cross the moment she arrived late for his class on her first day. Since then she’d been punctual, and yet the man seemed to have developed the habit of calling her every time there was a difficult problem in class. Math was never her strong suit to begin with, and her performance eventually began to dwindle as the course went on. It came to a point that Professor Hirose had to talk with her after class one day to remind her of her grades.
“Miss Shinjo,” he said, her test paper in his hand. Haruki miserably stared at the blood red mark on her sheet. “This is the fourth test you’ve failed this term. You’re going to be in trouble if this keeps going.”
“I know, sir,” she helplessly muttered. “I’ve been studying, but...”
She could feel him watching her, but Haruki chose to keep her gaze on her shoes.
“Do you need help?” he finally asked.
Haruki looked up at him. She hated how tiny she felt against his large frame.
“I suppose I should’ve let you know sooner,” His forehead creased. “But I do offer make-up classes every Wednesday.”
“You do?” Her eyes widened with hope. “You mean you’re having one tomorrow?”
“Yes, Miss Shinjo,” He fought a smirk at her instant reaction. “In this very room.”
“Oh, thank God,” she cried, closing her eyes. “I still have a chance!”
“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he said as she picked up her things to leave.
“See you tomorrow, Mr. Hirose!” she beamed as she left the room.
When Haruki came back the following day, she was surprised to find nobody but her teacher in the room.
“Huh?” She blinked in confusion by the doorway. “Where’s everyone else?”
“Apparently not having as much difficulty as you do,” he said, rising from his seat by the teacher’s table. “I’m glad you came, Miss Shinjo.”
“Oh,” Haruki murmured, uneasily making her way to the first row of seats. “Well this is weird...”
“So what are you having problems with?” he asked, slipping his eyeglasses on.
“Uh,” she nervously laughed. “Everything?”
The man opened the thick, heavy textbook before him. “Let’s begin then.”
Despite her first impression of him, Haruki found her Algebra professor to be a surprisingly pleasant mentor. He waited patiently whenever he posed a problem and was more understanding of her mistakes. Perhaps it was because they had the leisure of time now, but with his more lenient show of nature she found herself learning more quickly, like the secrets of the universe had finally revealed itself before her very eyes. He was more engaging and comfortable to be with, and the more they talked, the more he felt like he was someone she could befriend.
“Impressive,” The man nodded in approval as he marked her mock exam with a 85% score. “You’ve made a complete turnover in just one lesson.”
“I suppose my mind’s just been blocked this whole time,” she smiled. “I should come again next week and bring Suzume along. She’s been having difficulty lately too.”
“Actually, Miss Shinjo,” He cleared his throat as she began packing her things. “I’d like to be honest with you about something.”
“Yes?” she blinked, halfway in shoving her book inside her bag.
“This class today was just a one-time thing,” he smiled. “I don’t really hold make-up classes on Wednesdays.”
Haruki blinked again. “Then when do you have it?”
He chuckled at her response.
“I just wanted to be alone with you, Miss Shinjo.”
The girl did not say anything for several seconds. When she finally felt the weight of his words her first instinct was to look down to hide the fluster on her cheeks.
Her professor slowly moved to the front of the desk. “Can I ask you out for a cup of coffee sometime?”
“Um,” she stammered, trying to shove her book back in her bag, but it seemed like a big rock had found its way in and prevented her from doing so.
The man slowly took her sling bag from her and effortlessly slid the textbook back inside. Haruki stared at his big hands and felt her heart in her throat.
“I am well aware of the situation and its implications,” he continued in her silence. “But I find you interesting, Haruki.”
Haruki looked up at the mention of her name. She saw a small but gentle smile on his lips.
“I...” she whispered, her eyebrows meeting. “I don’t know...”
Her professor lowered his head with a rueful smile. “I’m sorry, I’ve made you uncomfortable.”
“No, no,” she stammered. “It’s just...”
He quietly watched the change in her expression.
“Oh, what the heck,” she murmured as she toyed with the flap of her bag. “I guess a cup of coffee wouldn’t hurt.”
“Good,” he softly chuckled. “I’ll call you.”
Haruki looked up at him and timidly smiled. She nodded and slung her bag over her shoulder to leave the room.
The next few weeks passed by in a crazy blur for Haruki. What started as a seemingly harmless coffee date eventually led to more dates, and next thing she knew, she was already hopelessly smitten with her college professor. It was wrong and dangerous on all levels, but his quiet, mysterious charm was proving harder and harder to resist every time they met.
Haruki liked to consider herself a conservative person. She’d never had a boyfriend before. She believed in true love. She believed in someone who would take care of her and treat her right. She didn’t know what to think of Professor Hirose, but he seemed like a good man. He was nice, smart, and a gentleman before anything. If only he wasn’t her teacher...
After a month of meeting him in discreet coffee shops, he invited her over for dinner at his place one Saturday evening. He made roast chicken and casserole. She was bursting from her dress and slightly tipsy from all the wine he made her drink.
“Is there anything you can’t do?” she asked with a laugh as she playfully traced a finger on her glass. “I suppose you can be a chef if you get bored with teaching math.”
“I guess,” he smirked as he watched the candlelight dance on her face. She looked completely different and absolutely ravishing when she arrived at his doorstep wearing her little black dress that he almost forgot she was the same clumsy, boyish girl.
“Well, that was a marvelous dinner,” she said, slowly rising from her seat. “I had a great time.”
“Leaving so soon?” he asked, standing up as well as she began to look for her purse in the living room.
“It’s pretty late and I don’t want to impose,” she said, looking around the sofas. “Have you seen my purse?”
“It must’ve slipped in somewhere,” he said, walking to the plump, white sofa. He sat down and began slipping his hand along the sides. “Ah, found it.”
He took out her small, beaded purse as she sighed in relief. “Oh, thank God.”
Haruki had only reached for her bag when he suddenly grabbed her wrist and pulled her down to the couch with him.
“Oh!” she stumbled, landing on his chest. “I’m sorry!”
“Silly girl,” he muttered, his hold still on her arm as she slowly sat up. “Why are you apologizing?”
“I don’t know,” she murmured, the wine delaying her train of thought. “I could’ve hurt you...”
“Haruki,” His voice dropped to a low and silky tone. He neared forward as she instinctively moved back. She felt the throw pillows behind her.
“Look,” she stammered, her hands on his shoulders. She froze when she felt his hand on her waist. “I don’t think...”
He raised his eyebrows and patiently waited for her to continue. She found herself unable to say anything as his dark gaze sought hers. His thumb was gently stroking her skin.
“I haven’t done this before,” she whispered. He saw the fear dancing in her eyes as she held on to his shoulders in trepidation.
She licked her dry lips in unease, finally breaking his control as he crushed his mouth to hers. Haruki moaned and immediately tried to pull away, but he captured both her wrists with one hand as the other settled on her lower back and pushed her closer to him. The kiss was deep and passionate, leaving her inexperienced self overwhelmed when his tongue teased her mouth.
“No...!” she gasped when they parted. She stared at him in disbelief and found nothing but a burning intensity in his eyes.
His gaze fell on her small, sweet mouth, parted open in her surprise as she trembled beneath him. She felt so fragile beneath him, he almost felt remorseful.
His hold on her softened as he slowly moved back. She curled up to the pillows and immediately brought a hand to her lips.
“I’m sorry,” he said, the apology not quite reaching his eyes.
“I... it’s fine,” she whispered, straightening herself up in her seat as she primly put her hands on her lap. “It’s just...”
“I do like you,” she murmured, uneasily looking at him. “I just need more time, that’s all.”
“Of course,” He forced out a smile as he slowly stood up. “Let’s go. I’ll take you home.”
Haruki took his hand and stood up as she grabbed her purse and made her way to the door with him. Ryou’s unsympathetic gaze was on his doorknob for several seconds before finally locking the door and making his way to his car.
Fandom: 547 SERVICE
Characters: Ryo x ひとみ
Genre: General
Table: One
Prompt: 023. False + a minute of failure
Word Count: 1646
Rating: R
Summary: The rules of The Game were very simple.
Author's Notes: Part 2 of The Game! For Part 1, click here.
~ For most men (till by losing rendered sager)
Will back their own opinions by a wager.
-- Lord Byron, "Beppo" ~
023. false
Haruki did not know what to think of her Math teacher.
It had only been three weeks since she started her college life, and although she’d had her fair share of strict teachers back in high school, they seemed to pale in comparison to her Algebra professor.
She knew Professor Hirose was not the type to cross the moment she arrived late for his class on her first day. Since then she’d been punctual, and yet the man seemed to have developed the habit of calling her every time there was a difficult problem in class. Math was never her strong suit to begin with, and her performance eventually began to dwindle as the course went on. It came to a point that Professor Hirose had to talk with her after class one day to remind her of her grades.
“Miss Shinjo,” he said, her test paper in his hand. Haruki miserably stared at the blood red mark on her sheet. “This is the fourth test you’ve failed this term. You’re going to be in trouble if this keeps going.”
“I know, sir,” she helplessly muttered. “I’ve been studying, but...”
She could feel him watching her, but Haruki chose to keep her gaze on her shoes.
“Do you need help?” he finally asked.
Haruki looked up at him. She hated how tiny she felt against his large frame.
“I suppose I should’ve let you know sooner,” His forehead creased. “But I do offer make-up classes every Wednesday.”
“You do?” Her eyes widened with hope. “You mean you’re having one tomorrow?”
“Yes, Miss Shinjo,” He fought a smirk at her instant reaction. “In this very room.”
“Oh, thank God,” she cried, closing her eyes. “I still have a chance!”
“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he said as she picked up her things to leave.
“See you tomorrow, Mr. Hirose!” she beamed as she left the room.
When Haruki came back the following day, she was surprised to find nobody but her teacher in the room.
“Huh?” She blinked in confusion by the doorway. “Where’s everyone else?”
“Apparently not having as much difficulty as you do,” he said, rising from his seat by the teacher’s table. “I’m glad you came, Miss Shinjo.”
“Oh,” Haruki murmured, uneasily making her way to the first row of seats. “Well this is weird...”
“So what are you having problems with?” he asked, slipping his eyeglasses on.
“Uh,” she nervously laughed. “Everything?”
The man opened the thick, heavy textbook before him. “Let’s begin then.”
Despite her first impression of him, Haruki found her Algebra professor to be a surprisingly pleasant mentor. He waited patiently whenever he posed a problem and was more understanding of her mistakes. Perhaps it was because they had the leisure of time now, but with his more lenient show of nature she found herself learning more quickly, like the secrets of the universe had finally revealed itself before her very eyes. He was more engaging and comfortable to be with, and the more they talked, the more he felt like he was someone she could befriend.
“Impressive,” The man nodded in approval as he marked her mock exam with a 85% score. “You’ve made a complete turnover in just one lesson.”
“I suppose my mind’s just been blocked this whole time,” she smiled. “I should come again next week and bring Suzume along. She’s been having difficulty lately too.”
“Actually, Miss Shinjo,” He cleared his throat as she began packing her things. “I’d like to be honest with you about something.”
“Yes?” she blinked, halfway in shoving her book inside her bag.
“This class today was just a one-time thing,” he smiled. “I don’t really hold make-up classes on Wednesdays.”
Haruki blinked again. “Then when do you have it?”
He chuckled at her response.
“I just wanted to be alone with you, Miss Shinjo.”
The girl did not say anything for several seconds. When she finally felt the weight of his words her first instinct was to look down to hide the fluster on her cheeks.
Her professor slowly moved to the front of the desk. “Can I ask you out for a cup of coffee sometime?”
“Um,” she stammered, trying to shove her book back in her bag, but it seemed like a big rock had found its way in and prevented her from doing so.
The man slowly took her sling bag from her and effortlessly slid the textbook back inside. Haruki stared at his big hands and felt her heart in her throat.
“I am well aware of the situation and its implications,” he continued in her silence. “But I find you interesting, Haruki.”
Haruki looked up at the mention of her name. She saw a small but gentle smile on his lips.
“I...” she whispered, her eyebrows meeting. “I don’t know...”
Her professor lowered his head with a rueful smile. “I’m sorry, I’ve made you uncomfortable.”
“No, no,” she stammered. “It’s just...”
He quietly watched the change in her expression.
“Oh, what the heck,” she murmured as she toyed with the flap of her bag. “I guess a cup of coffee wouldn’t hurt.”
“Good,” he softly chuckled. “I’ll call you.”
Haruki looked up at him and timidly smiled. She nodded and slung her bag over her shoulder to leave the room.
The next few weeks passed by in a crazy blur for Haruki. What started as a seemingly harmless coffee date eventually led to more dates, and next thing she knew, she was already hopelessly smitten with her college professor. It was wrong and dangerous on all levels, but his quiet, mysterious charm was proving harder and harder to resist every time they met.
Haruki liked to consider herself a conservative person. She’d never had a boyfriend before. She believed in true love. She believed in someone who would take care of her and treat her right. She didn’t know what to think of Professor Hirose, but he seemed like a good man. He was nice, smart, and a gentleman before anything. If only he wasn’t her teacher...
After a month of meeting him in discreet coffee shops, he invited her over for dinner at his place one Saturday evening. He made roast chicken and casserole. She was bursting from her dress and slightly tipsy from all the wine he made her drink.
“Is there anything you can’t do?” she asked with a laugh as she playfully traced a finger on her glass. “I suppose you can be a chef if you get bored with teaching math.”
“I guess,” he smirked as he watched the candlelight dance on her face. She looked completely different and absolutely ravishing when she arrived at his doorstep wearing her little black dress that he almost forgot she was the same clumsy, boyish girl.
“Well, that was a marvelous dinner,” she said, slowly rising from her seat. “I had a great time.”
“Leaving so soon?” he asked, standing up as well as she began to look for her purse in the living room.
“It’s pretty late and I don’t want to impose,” she said, looking around the sofas. “Have you seen my purse?”
“It must’ve slipped in somewhere,” he said, walking to the plump, white sofa. He sat down and began slipping his hand along the sides. “Ah, found it.”
He took out her small, beaded purse as she sighed in relief. “Oh, thank God.”
Haruki had only reached for her bag when he suddenly grabbed her wrist and pulled her down to the couch with him.
“Oh!” she stumbled, landing on his chest. “I’m sorry!”
“Silly girl,” he muttered, his hold still on her arm as she slowly sat up. “Why are you apologizing?”
“I don’t know,” she murmured, the wine delaying her train of thought. “I could’ve hurt you...”
“Haruki,” His voice dropped to a low and silky tone. He neared forward as she instinctively moved back. She felt the throw pillows behind her.
“Look,” she stammered, her hands on his shoulders. She froze when she felt his hand on her waist. “I don’t think...”
He raised his eyebrows and patiently waited for her to continue. She found herself unable to say anything as his dark gaze sought hers. His thumb was gently stroking her skin.
“I haven’t done this before,” she whispered. He saw the fear dancing in her eyes as she held on to his shoulders in trepidation.
She licked her dry lips in unease, finally breaking his control as he crushed his mouth to hers. Haruki moaned and immediately tried to pull away, but he captured both her wrists with one hand as the other settled on her lower back and pushed her closer to him. The kiss was deep and passionate, leaving her inexperienced self overwhelmed when his tongue teased her mouth.
“No...!” she gasped when they parted. She stared at him in disbelief and found nothing but a burning intensity in his eyes.
His gaze fell on her small, sweet mouth, parted open in her surprise as she trembled beneath him. She felt so fragile beneath him, he almost felt remorseful.
His hold on her softened as he slowly moved back. She curled up to the pillows and immediately brought a hand to her lips.
“I’m sorry,” he said, the apology not quite reaching his eyes.
“I... it’s fine,” she whispered, straightening herself up in her seat as she primly put her hands on her lap. “It’s just...”
“I do like you,” she murmured, uneasily looking at him. “I just need more time, that’s all.”
“Of course,” He forced out a smile as he slowly stood up. “Let’s go. I’ll take you home.”
Haruki took his hand and stood up as she grabbed her purse and made her way to the door with him. Ryou’s unsympathetic gaze was on his doorknob for several seconds before finally locking the door and making his way to his car.