Ship: Mai Ganeko > Sanae Sawamura Fandom: Teppu Major Tags: none Other Tags: snooping Word Count: 531
***
Sanae prided herself on her self-discipline. It was the reason she was captain of the karate club, the reason she'd gone to nationals. She could keep practicing, keep working, resist the temptation to skip a day or give in to complacency.
And yet, despite all her self-discipline, she found herself looking through Mai's notebook. Mai had gone to get a sandwich, accidentally knocking her notebook off the bench on her way out. Sanae, of course, had picked it up, intending only to place it back on the desk. But it fluttered open, and she saw her name, and despite her best efforts, curiosity won out.
Once she started reading, she couldn't stop. The notebook was nearly full, pages of unsent letters. Letters meant for her- or not meant for her, if she had never got them, but about her. She didn't read them all, but she skimmed through, half-hoping to catch someone else's name in there, that Mai hadn't written all these letters to her.
She'd known, of course, that Mai liked her. It was impossible not to know- even if she never said anything, it was obvious in every look and action. But Sanae had thought that it was the way that underclassman sometimes liked their upperclassmen-- a mixture of hero-worship and idealization and hormones. (The way she'd thought Natsuo had-- no. This wasn't the time to time to think of that.) She hadn't taken it seriously.
And Mai was serious. While the letters started with generic declarations of affection and statements about how cool Sanae was, it wasn't long before they became more passionate and sincere. A long description of how watching Sanae in a match made Mai's heart race with love and pride; a frustrated screed on how Sanae was wasting her time on things that didn't matter, that nevertheless bled love from every word; a page that was simply the phrase 'I love you,' written in every permutation.
It was like a hit to the solar plexus, reading these letters. It was like looking into Mai's heart, exposing and magnifying her feelings. Sanae hadn't taken Mai seriously, but how could she ignore those feelings now?
A bag dropped onto the bench, startling Sanae and making her drop the notebook. Mai stood there, hands on her hips, glaring.
“Mai. I'm sorry,” Sanae fumbled. She wasn't used to feeling wrong-footed, or being the guilty party. It wasn't a pleasant feeling. “You knocked it off the desk, so I picked it up.”
“You read my notebook, Sanae,” Mai replied. Sanae couldn't read her tone. “Now you know everything; so what are you doing to do?”
That was the question, wasn't it? Sanae was used to having Mai with her; she valued her company. But romance?
“I don't know.” Sanae looked Mai in the eyes. She owed Mai honesty. “If you give me some time, I promise to have an answer for you.”
She could see this wasn't the answer Mai wanted; she also saw that Mai accepted it as the best she was going to get.
“All right.” Mai picked up the notebook and slid it into her bag. “Please don't keep me waiting too long.”
FILL: Team Grandstand, G
Fandom: Teppu
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: snooping
Word Count: 531
***
Sanae prided herself on her self-discipline. It was the reason she was captain of the karate club, the reason she'd gone to nationals. She could keep practicing, keep working, resist the temptation to skip a day or give in to complacency.
And yet, despite all her self-discipline, she found herself looking through Mai's notebook. Mai had gone to get a sandwich, accidentally knocking her notebook off the bench on her way out. Sanae, of course, had picked it up, intending only to place it back on the desk. But it fluttered open, and she saw her name, and despite her best efforts, curiosity won out.
Once she started reading, she couldn't stop. The notebook was nearly full, pages of unsent letters. Letters meant for her- or not meant for her, if she had never got them, but about her. She didn't read them all, but she skimmed through, half-hoping to catch someone else's name in there, that Mai hadn't written all these letters to her.
She'd known, of course, that Mai liked her. It was impossible not to know- even if she never said anything, it was obvious in every look and action. But Sanae had thought that it was the way that underclassman sometimes liked their upperclassmen-- a mixture of hero-worship and idealization and hormones. (The way she'd thought Natsuo had-- no. This wasn't the time to time to think of that.) She hadn't taken it seriously.
And Mai was serious. While the letters started with generic declarations of affection and statements about how cool Sanae was, it wasn't long before they became more passionate and sincere. A long description of how watching Sanae in a match made Mai's heart race with love and pride; a frustrated screed on how Sanae was wasting her time on things that didn't matter, that nevertheless bled love from every word; a page that was simply the phrase 'I love you,' written in every permutation.
It was like a hit to the solar plexus, reading these letters. It was like looking into Mai's heart, exposing and magnifying her feelings. Sanae hadn't taken Mai seriously, but how could she ignore those feelings now?
A bag dropped onto the bench, startling Sanae and making her drop the notebook. Mai stood there, hands on her hips, glaring.
“Mai. I'm sorry,” Sanae fumbled. She wasn't used to feeling wrong-footed, or being the guilty party. It wasn't a pleasant feeling. “You knocked it off the desk, so I picked it up.”
“You read my notebook, Sanae,” Mai replied. Sanae couldn't read her tone. “Now you know everything; so what are you doing to do?”
That was the question, wasn't it? Sanae was used to having Mai with her; she valued her company. But romance?
“I don't know.” Sanae looked Mai in the eyes. She owed Mai honesty. “If you give me some time, I promise to have an answer for you.”
She could see this wasn't the answer Mai wanted; she also saw that Mai accepted it as the best she was going to get.
“All right.” Mai picked up the notebook and slid it into her bag. “Please don't keep me waiting too long.”