I’m My Own High School Rival: Nakamura’s Arc: Heritage

  We entered Nakamura’s house—shoes went into the ganken—her parents’ shoes were gone.

  The house smelled of cleaning supplies, and the wooden floorboards creaked with every step. I made my way toward the kitchen, not to eat, but to cook as I had done so many times now. Creating meals with complementary sides that would immerse the tongue in a symphony of flavor.

  “Antwon,” Nakamura sang out, “my dad is going to cook when he gets home.”

  I stopped slowly, turning to Nakamura with raised eyebrows, unsure if I had done something wrong to lose Kaito’s favor.

  I frowned, casting away my late excitement, pointing a finger at myself without finding the words to match my expression.

  “No, Antwon,” Nakamura said, approaching footsteps from the entrance of her house. You haven’t done anything wrong. My dad thinks you’ve done too much without anything in return.”

  She gently touched my shoulder with trembling fingers, catching my attention. I studied her countenance for a cure to her ailment. But whenever I looked her in the eyes, hers darted away, searching for something not found.

  “Antwon, are you—okay? I mean, you’re clearly fine now, but you weren’t in Ms. Igarashi or Hoshikawa’s class. And I—”

  I wasn’t okay this morning, and I could only blame myself for letting this weekend’s events bleed into my day—for letting Sakura bleed into my day.

  “Sorry… for the way I treated you.”

  I touched her hand, and the trembling stopped, yet her eyes avoided mine.

  Her hand returned my grace, our fingers interlocking,

  I squeezed softly, and she peeked at me from the corner of her eye.

  She could crush me if she wanted; any girl could. But Nakamura had presented herself as fragile, soft; it’s honestly a nice change of pace.

  “C-can you tell me what was wrong, Carter?”

  I exhaled slowly, remembering the events that had transpired: Tetsusen’s claim on me, treating me like a pet, and my emotional breakdown in the boys’ bathroom.

  “Nakamura, let’s sit down.”

  Her warm red eyes found mine, reminding me that I was safe.

  “Okay, Antwon. Let’s go to the table—”

  “How about your room instead?”

  Nakamura shook like rain with heavy breath.

  “Are you cold, Nakamura?”

  Her face was red like she had a fever, so I slid my hand onto her forehead, and her face bloomed red.

  “Antwon, w-why my room?”

  I’m exhausted.

  “I want to take a nap after we talk since I’m not cooking if that’s okay, Nakamura?”

  She turned away, facing the hallway, causing my hand to slip to my side. Her hair brushed my knuckles for a split second, warm and soft like it wanted to linger.

  “M-my room and b-bed…?"

  The floor wailed under her shifting weight.

  “If it’s a problem, you can roll at a bad mat or some sheets, and I’ll sleep on the floor—”

  “No,” the floor creaked in approval, “I-it’s fine, Antwon. We can talk in my room, so long as we are only talking.”

  Weird; did she see me as some kind of perv—do guys like that exist?

  ***

  I walked into my room, Antwon right behind me. My small bed with its green bed sheets and lonely pillow, complemented by the white walls, craving creativity, and a brown, isolated dresser, all reminders of my family's hardship.

  Antwon, eager to enter my room, asked for permission with his physical closeness. I moved, and he brushed past me, exciting dormant sensations inside my body.

  He practically jumped onto my bed, falling on his back, forcing me to restrain a part of me from leaping after him; I didn’t know that part of me was there, but it had made its presence known. My poor mattress squeaked, filing its complaint.

  I walked calmly to my bed, fighting a battle unseen, which was now occupied by Antwon, and sat down, facing away from him, and granting him privacy. But he had already stretched himself out, moaning from decompressing himself, purring softly in his grace, tempting me to turn to desire...

  I bit my bottom lip, focusing on the questions that must be asked, ignoring my growing lust.

  “Antwon, I’m sorry for not helping you with Tetsusen. I—”

  “There was nothing you could have done, Nakamura. She was extra aggressive today, like she was done with my crap or someone stepped on her fancy shoes, and what was with that stupid getup she had on?”

  He doesn’t know about the regalia. If he were aware of the impending danger of challenging Tetsusen, maybe he would have proceeded differently, but I doubt it.

  I paused.

  “Antwon, that uniform she was wearing… it was her clan’s regalia, which gave her the authority of Triss Tetsusen, meaning—”

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “She could have actually killed me… Would anyone have said anything?”

  I caught myself sighing.

  Those of us who care for you, Antwon, my parents, your parents, and the teachers would care.

  “Of course, Antwon. Your loss would devastate us, and the school would notify your parents… Of course, there is Sakura…”

  Antwon took a breath too deep for me to ignore.

  “Couldn’t she kill me regardless of fancy clothing?”

  I hesitated, because she could have, but—

  “She would need to justify her reason with the court; maybe you disrespected her, or threatened her, or even attempted to kill her first.”

  “Thanks… I guess. Now I know someone will call my parents after I’m dead.”

  I didn’t intend for the conversation to take a dark turn… However, understanding the severity of the situation is paramount, but he’s just a boy…

  “Antwon, what happened after Tetsusen took you into the hallway? Did she harm you?”

  I couldn’t see his face, but his eyes burned holes into my back.

  “You mean dragged me into the hallway. Well… it got kind of weird.”

  I turned slightly, unsure of what weird entailed.

  “First, she was all, she threatened me by pushing me to the wall, and 'I could kill you,' and whatnot.”

  “Oh.” That sounds like typical Tetsusen.

  “But then it got weird.”

  I faced him. His face was solemn, flushed, and the shine in his green eyes faded.

  “What happened… Antwon?

  His eyes were fixed on the ceiling, focused, and filled with intent.

  “She… she tried,” Antwon touched his lips, gazing beyond the ceiling, “to claim me; whatever that means.”

  A soft whimper escaped me, alerting Antwon to the bruises forming around my heart. I turned away, trying to repress the liquid sorrow burning down my face. My throat tightened, and even the air was too sharp. Because the one person I connected with, though a boy, filled my head with hope and my heart with light. But Tetsusen… Christina was taking him away.

  “Nakamura… are you alright?”

  I nodded, not facing him. I didn’t have the courage to. Tetsusen could give him the life any boy would dream of. He only had to become her plaything…

  “I-I told her no… Nakamura,” he said with reassurance in his voice, but the world dimmed as the moment lost its luster.

  I wiped my face, “It’s so dusty in here; I’m sorry, Antwon. I didn’t clean well.”

  Antwon’s hand found me, rubbing my back.

  “Nakamura…”

  My tears would change nothing—Christina has claimed Antwon, and she won’t let go regardless of his protest. He will find new friends, freedoms, and restraints. But she’ll have to fight Sakura for the right to keep him.

  I sighed. Losing battles not fought was an exhausting enterprise, one that I frequented.

  “Carter, I’m happy for you. Be with her.”

  ***

  Hearing about Tetsusen’s claim on my existence upset Nakamura, but she didn’t want me to know about it. Her faint whimper hinted at deeper, unspoken emotions.

  However, I didn’t believe she was happy for me. She sounded more distressed than happy.

  Somewhere, a door shuts softly.

  I touched her lower back to soothe her, rubbing in small circles, and she trembled.

  “Carter… even if you’ve said no, Tetsusen will—”

  I grabbed the back of her uniform, pulling her back, opening my arms to embrace her, and guiding her to lie beside me.

  She grabbed my arms, gently pushing them before she resigned.

  “C…Antwon, what are you doing?”

  I squeezed her tighter, as if it would excuse the surging emotions I was feeling.

  I wanted to comfort her—I wanted to remove her worries and doubts; hers or mine? I wasn’t sure. My face erupted as the weight of the moment sank in.

  The green comforter rustled beneath the weight of our bodies.

  The wooden floor wailed under unknown footsteps.

  “This is making you feel better—I-I’m making you feel better…right?”

  Nakamura rustled for a moment and then turned in my arms, facing me with a solemn stare, causing my heart to swell.

  I’ve only seen the strongest sides of her—when she dropped two girls during homeroom—when she stood before the veil—when she fought off unwanted advances on my behalf.

  Now, she wept for me…

  I wiped tears from her eye with my left hand and supported her head with my right arm. Cradling her.

  Nakamura grabbed my hand, holding it close to her face; her warm breath trapped in my palm.

  “Nakamura, why are you sad?”

  The air between us was sweet, teasing the tongue.

  “Antwon, I don’t want Tetsusen to take you away,” she shuddered, “but she can offer you a better life in Kokiri.”

  My heart swelled, filling with something, an emotion I’ve felt once, but it wasn’t Christine causing it.

  “She doesn’t own me, Nakamura. And I told her that I wasn’t interested,” I lulled out, each word landing with more grace than the last.

  I pulled her in, pressing her head to my chest, and she didn’t resist; however, the warmth from her face bled into my chest. Each warm breath caused my temperature to rise. I buried my face in her hair, taking in the smell of old books and sweet wine; a scent I vowed to own—a scent I finally found.

  Nakamura looked up, removing her hair from my face, with ruby eyes surrounded by rosy cheeks, strumming the emotional cords that tether me to her, creating an unfamiliar dissonance.

  “Antwon, she can offer you protection, money, and status. Just promise me that you’ll remember me—” her voice cracked, losing its firmness.

  She stopped listening to me. I don’t care about status, power, or money, not in this life.

  I dragged my thumb across her lips, parting roses bloomed, she looked so soft.

  I wasn’t one to be claimed.

  “Nakamura, I told her no… because,” I swallowed something that fought its way back up.

  Her eyes fluttered, and her lashes swept over me, gently caressing my eyes. My head lowered, searching for her lips—searching for the words.

  “You're kind of… the one that I want.”

  Her countenance moved closer, her lips parted, and her breath abated.

  “Antwon… what are you saying?”

  My eyes tried to escape her honeyed gaze, but I was stuck between the space behind her and the bed beneath us.

  She gently pulled my face, locking eyes.

  “My… heart yearns for you, Nakamura.”

  My face felt like burning coals.

  The door creaked.

  She caressed my face and guided me to her.

  We paused, sharing one breath, as aching hearts greeted.

  The room door closed abruptly, but there were no drafts in Nakamura’s house.

  Our eyes widened, our hearts froze at the realization that one or both of her parents had come home and caught us in such a compromising moment.

  “So,” Kito said, “you’re dating one day, then you’re not dating the next, just to lie up in my daughter's bed, making out, defiling her! Have you no honor, Antwon!”

  I pushed myself up with wide eyes as I took in Nakamura’s dad standing in the doorway with crossed arms, armed with a sandal.

  His hair, classically short, accented his sharp eyes and his unfriendly tilt. Kito stepped forward, raising his sandal.

  I winced, shrinking myself in anticipation of the hit.

  Nakamura pulled me down, shielding me with her body.

  “Dad! Nothing happened. We were just discussing things that happened at school. I swear!”

  He glared at the tangled mess on Nakamura’s bed, clenching his jaw.

  “Shut your mouth, Tiffany Aiko Nakamura! You'd better explain what the hell you were doing, both of you!”

  https://suno.com/s/2fQwibD4K1uzJkRz