Fairytale Gone Bad

Sakuraba sat down on the step of the 7/11 with a sigh and closed his eyes. After an odyssey from the studio of the last photo shoot for Star Burger to the station, he had missed the last train home and he did not have enough money in his purse for a taxi to get home either. At least he had found this convenience store so he would not starve to death.

Sighing once more, he hugged his warm can of tea closer, contemplating to call his parents to get him by car. On the other hand, they had probably already gone to bed, since the both of them had to get up early the next day. Also, Sakuraba had told them it would be late and he'd be able to get home safely by himself, they should not worry and just go to bed.

And now he sat there, all alone by himself with no idea how to get home.

And tomorrow they had an important game, too. Takami and Shin had both given him the look when he had left training earlier along with a tirade from Shogun. He did not want to imagine what they would say if he arrived late for the game tomorrow.

…He was doomed.

In a desperate motion, he raked his hands through his blond hair, ruffling the perfect hairdo from the photo shoot until nothing of it was visible anymore, just his characteristic three strands that stood up skywards. He buried his head against his knees and just wanted to cry when he heard steps next to him and the door of the convini behind him open and close. The smell of cigarettes lingered for a while and somehow, it calmed Sakuraba's mood. He swallowed a few sobs and tried to think over his situation more calmly.

Maybe he could hitchhike home; enough people were still around on a Friday evening. Maybe there was a bus nearby that he could take closer to his home, or maybe he could walk a while so that he could afford the money for a taxi or-

Next to him, the door of the convenience store opened and closed again, and suddenly the smell of tobacco was back full force, stopping the blond dead in his tracks. He looked up with big eyes, meeting a very raw looking man in his late thirties, who was wearing a bandana, construction worker pants and a tank top that emphasized his strong arms that reminded him of Shin's. A stubble was gracing his strong jaw and thick eyebrows framed dark eyes that seemed both mysterious and warm, deep, but secretive.

Sakuraba's heart beat a little faster and he was pretty sure that he was staring at this strange with a blush on his cheeks and his mouth hanging open. That man emanated testosterone so much that everybody on the street should turn their heads and be lured in by the pheromones that he was obviously spraying around, no matter if they were male or female. Sakuraba, who had always favored men over women decided that very moment that there was somebody else than Shin that could coax this kind of fanboying out of him. And that very person was standing right in front of him.

"…you alright?" the other said and Sakuraba's heart made a leap, because the other's voice wrapped around him like honey, caressed him like velvet and felt like chocolate on his skin. A shudder went down his spine and he let out a little sigh. If he did not know it any better, he would say he was in love, but he only knew that guy for a few seconds, so that was not possible.

On the other hand, he felt strangely familiar with him, but he was not able to place a finger on the source of that feeling.

"-Sakuraba Haruto from Oujo High School, right?"

The blond blinked in confusion. "…How do you know my name?" he asked in bewilderment.

The other stared down at him, obviously just as confused by the question as the questioner, cigarette lifted half-way to his lips. Then he started to laugh.

No, it was not laughter that was rumbling down his throat, going down directly to Sakuraba's groin, twisting his stomach on the way down. It was a very manly chuckle that made Sakuraba feel like a little boy next to this role model of manliness. It sounded like the purr of a lion.

"Did I really change that much?" he asked, smiling wryly and Sakuraba was once more reminded of those old action heroes and this construction worker looked just like he jumped out of one of those movies.

"…Have we met before?" the blond asked, once again feeling something nagging on him, but he was still not able to place a finger on it.

The man nodded, pointing his thumb at himself as he said, "Takekura Gen. We met about a year ago, when Deimon challenged Oujo for a game of American Football…"

"Um, yeah, I think I remember," Sakuraba mumbled, frowning slightly, "but I don't remember your face… Were you Deimon's coach?"

Takekura-san blinked, then laughed out loudly. "No, sorry, that wasn't me. I don't think I could ever coach anybody. No, I was their kicker back then-"

"Oh!!! That was you?!" Sakuraba cried, his eyes widening in disbelief. "I'm sorry, but I didn't recognize you as a highschooler. I thought you were at least 30!"

Musashi – now that Sakuraba knew who he was, he remembered his nickname easily – chuckled again, dragging on his cigarette. "Yeah, I hear that often. It makes things a lot easier most of the time though. I can buy those," he lifted the hand with the cigarette, "without being asked any stupid questions."

The blond nodded slowly, realizing the advantages of looking older than your age. "That's cool… But why do you look like a construction worker?"

"That's a long story," Musashi said after he coughed in what seemed to be embarrassment. "I'm working for my father's company now, because he's hospitalized due to a breakdown he had last year. The company was about to go bankrupt and well… now I'm doing my best to run the company."

"Isn't that hard to do when you're going to school?" Sakuraba asked innocently. "I'm working as a model as a part time job and the schedule is almost killing me and-"

"I quit school," Musashi said calmly, busying himself with dragging on his cigarette while Sakuraba stared at him with wide eyes.

"What?" the blond asked, absolutely taken aback.

The other shrugged, taking a last drag before he pushed the cigarette out against the nearest wall, dusting away the dirt it made. He threw the bud into the convini's dustbin and wiped his hands against his pants.

"So, you live around here?" Musashi asked, startling Sakuraba from his thoughts that tried to wrap around the fact that somebody would sacrifice his future for a dirty job like this.

"Huh? No! No, I don't. Um, why do you ask?"

"Well, the last train left about half an hour ago and that's the last bus that leaves this place," Musashi said, pointing to the opposite side of the street, where a bus took off.

Sakuraba stared at it as if he had never seen a bus before and then broke out into a sob. "Oh no! I'm never going to leave this place!!!" He collapsed back against his knees and started to cry, all desperation coming back again at him full force.

Next to him, Musashi started to chuckle once again, but he did not quite notice. He only noticed that he other was still there when a strong hand came down on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly.

"Need a drive home?"

Looking up with big watery eyes, Sakuraba nodded furiously. No matter what he had thought of this guy before, right now he was his savior and the best guy in the world.

"Fine, I'll give you a ride," Musashi smiled and the blond melted.

"Thank you so much!"