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That Grey Area	By : Vermaxen Category: M through R > Nobuta wo Produce Views: 847 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the television series that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-That Grey Area
- 1
WIP. Done for the hell of it. I think they’re cute. I thought about doing a threesome fic, but I don’t want to get too ambitious here. We’ll see if this works.

Disclaimer: I sure as heck don’t own anything having to do
with Nobuta wo Produce. Though sometimes I wish I owned Yamashita Tomohisa. Rowr.

PART 1

With an expression of wonder on his face Akira contemplated
his position with a certain amount of confusion. Shuuji would have
to be told. Or maybe
not. Did you send a thank you
gift after something like that? Maybe it
would be in poor taste. But it was
important to show gratitude. Maybe he
could get her a new phone, her old one seemed out of fashion.

But none of this actually made sense to think about at the
moment.

For first, and most importantly, Nobuta was here.

*
*
*

She had called not too long ago, (to Shuuji
and not him he noted with a mental pout) then hung up, then called again, then
asked them how they were, then hung up, then called again and asked if she
could come to visit them. It was
reassuring to know that while she had improved in the year they’d been apart
that some of her quirks remained. Shuuji had stretched out on the floor with a big smile on
his face, prompting Akira to tug at his hair to both get his attention and
annoy him. He knew where the passive
aggressive feelings came from, but that didn’t mean he resisted them very hard.

Shuuji naturally was his best
friend, and he wanted to share everything with him, but the thought of sharing
Nobuta always made the skin on the back of his neck prick. They had a peculiar relationship, the three
of them. Shuuji
was the emotional backbone, Akira all the energy and Nobuta all the
intensity. Everything about her was
unusually focused, down to the way she said his name. He felt a stab of disappointment when she
arrived and he confronted the same tonal issues he remembered.

“AKIRA.” She recited
in that sharp way that made Shuuji smile at her and
Akira shift the weight on his feet uncomfortably. “How have you been?”

“I. . .hm.”
He stared at her, then seemed to come to himself and began staring at Shuuji instead who rolled his eyes and began to talk a bit
about the state of his family. Before
long Akira found his voice.

“We need to go somewhere.”
Akira, after staring at his nails and chewing on his lip, looked at his
friends with expectancy. Shuuji gave him a cocked glance as if he had no idea where
this conversation was going. “I need to
show you! There’s a beach near the
school. It’s not far. . .”

Shuuji put a hand on his hip,
waving the other in lazy circles. “It is far away.”

“We can run!” Akira,
sticking the tip of his tongue out and smiling, searched the sky for a
cloud. Clouds would make this winter day
less cold, even if the sea made the temperature more bearable than if they had
been in Tokyo. He suddenly wanted to move somewhere quickly.

“I don’t care what we do.”
Nobuta searched their faces, anxious, seeming to wander in and out of
some sense of worry that Akira didn’t understand. There was not a trace of discomfort in
general about being near them, but they all shared the same fear to some extent
that perhaps that connection they shared had lessened in some way.

With the beach idea failing, Akira pushed for it
anyway. He wanted to do it and they
would have fun once they got there. His
careless selfishness was just thoughtless enough to be endearing and they
usually gave in. “Let’s go to the
beach. C’mon Nobuta.” He grabbed her hand and began to run in the
direction of it anyway, her flat school shoes pounded on the uneven pavement, stumbling a little to keep up with his longer legs.

“Wait!” Left behind, Shuuji shook his head and began a slow jog in their
direction.

Eventually Akira was forced to slow his pace for the sake of
Nobuta who was panting a bit. She would
never complain if she was in pain, and he was acutely aware of changes in her
body. Once that thought occurred to him
he also realized he was holding her hand and his heart leapt into his throat
hard enough to start him coughing. Shuuji was still a ways behind, taking things at a leisurely
pace.

While Nobuta hunched over and caught her breath he found
himself studying the arch of her back, the straight hair swaying, her cheeks
and the way the sweat stood out on her clear skin. She had bright eyes, still hidden partially
by bangs, a slightly square and stubborn jaw. . . pink
lips. . . pink tongue. . .

He smacked himself on the forehead, twice for good
measure. Bad Akira. Bad thoughts. Bad bad
thoughts. But ones which had
occurred more regularly ever since she had sent him a text message telling him
she was fine around Christmas. She had
sent a picture, smiling, her fingers giving a sign of victory just for him and Shuuji. She had
taken the picture herself, it seemed, because it was crooked and a little out
of focus, but it was so very her that Akira had felt his heart hurt again. At first he thought that the salmon onigiri he’d had for lunch had been bad, but the ache got
stronger when he looked at her picture again so he figured it must be
Nobuta. He thought that mess was behind
him, stored away for when he was a better man and could follow though on his
promises.

The short of it was that he was still in love with her. He wondered if he was a stronger person now,
someone who she could rely on. He
remembered his promise to himself, to keep his feelings to himself until he was
the kind of person who wouldn’t make her cry.
In a way he wondered if he would know.
Would there be a sign? Would Shuuji tell him when it was ok to want Nobuta for himself
again? A small voice in the back of
Akira’s mind said that Shuuji just might want Nobuta
too. An unworthy
thought, but tenacious.

But she was here now, and he needed to focus. She unbent and looked at him with clear eyes
before turned back to see where Shuuji was. Akira rubbed where he had hit himself; it
still stung. Her hand had been very
soft. How soft would it be compared to
the skin of. . . he slapped himself once again,
harder, the skin reddening noticeably.

“AKIRA.” Nobuta
caught his attention as he grimaced against the pain. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Wait for Shuuji-kun.” His jaw muscles tensed and then he flashed a
smile.

She nodded with that serious look of hers he found so
endearing.

*
*
*

She stayed over at Akira’s because, as Shuuji
said, no one needed to know and it was crowded at his own small place with his
family. Akira lived by himself in a huge
house he had been renting not far away from school. Surely it wouldn’t be improper if she was in
a different room entirely.

They ate and talked until late and then Shuuji
said goodbye to them, promising to be over early tomorrow so that they could
all look at the town together and maybe visit a shrine to pray for luck. College acceptances wouldn’t be announced for
a while yet and they were all waiting on pins and needles, thinking of tests
with heavy hearts.

Once they were alone, he found himself clearing his throat
and willing a shriek of terror not to pass through his lips. He would show her where she could sleep and
then he would do pushups until he was exhausted and hopefully have a dreamless
night. Then again, maybe they would all
share a dream, like they had the Christmas before last. He both feared and anticipated the kind of dream
the three of them could share while he was in this frame of mind.

Her hand on his arm made him jump. She looked at him apologetically, scurrying
away from him as if she had been scalded.

“Sorry sorry,” a nervous laugh
passed through his lips as he fidgeted. “High tension!” He
tried to smile but Nobuta shook her head and pushed against his shoulders until
he was out of the entrance way and into the western style living room. The glasses and bags of snacks were still on
the coffee table and she maneuvered him around the table corner to find the
couch. Akira sat down on it hard and
quickly whipped his head around when she walked behind the couch and set her
hands on his shoulders.

“What?” He bent his head back but all he got was a good look
up her nostrils before she looked down at him.
Rather than answer she simply dug her fingers into his shoulders
mercilessly. It was painful, and then
good, and then painful again but he didn’t say anything and just concentrated
on her hands. At some point he closed
his eyes and the starbursts of pain created a light show inside his head. He had had worse done to him by his father,
but at least he could fight back then.
There was no fighting Nobuta.

“Better?” She asked
it gently but her breath curled around his ear and the burning pain in his
shoulders instead shot straight down his spine and curled in his belly. He needed something
RIGHT NOW.

“I need a bath!” He practically yelled before bolting for
the bathroom.

*
*
*

In the bathroom Akira found himself in another dilemma. On the one hand a certain part of his body
was clamoring for attention, but if he did that
right now then it wouldn’t be clean for Nobuta to use the room after him. Then again to be like this would be too
dangerous. He pondered his situation for
a while before climbing out with a sigh to face his fate. Akira was slowly pulling on his sweat pants,
thinking of the best place to find some privacy when Nobuta blithely stepped
into the dressing area, toothbrush in hand to get to the sink. He had taken so long thinking about nothing
in particular of course she would have thought he was done.

She saw him, damp, half naked, and
just froze. Her eyes were full moons of
shock and Akira grabbed a towel and tried to hide himself behind it while his
pants fell to his calves. His limbs were
a tangle of confused motion as somehow the towel got tied around his waist and
the pants impeded his forward motion.

How could she be right
there? He was going to go mad.

So of course he did the only sensible thing he could think
of, he tried to run out of the room.
Sadly, running on a wet floor while tangled in both robe and pants could
only have one result and as his head hit the hard tiles below he wondered if
Nobuta was strong enough to drag him to his bedroom.

*
*
*

“AKIRA. AKIRA.” She was bent over him again, in her sensible
winter pajamas. Hair tied back, eyebrows
knit in concern, mouth parted as she searched gently for signs of trauma to his
head. She poked a sensitive spot and he
opened his eyes.

“You fell.” She said, head tilted to the side as she continued to probe through
his dyed brown hair.

There was a blanket over him, and for that he was grateful,
but he wondered what she had seen and what he was supposed to do about it. Ask for forgiveness? Blame her for not knocking? Go run laps around his house until the burning
sensation he was getting from her gentle touches went away? Tough call.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.”
He batted her hand away, but she was persistent in checking him for
injury.

She looked at him with tight lips. “Ok.
Are you hurt anywhere else?” She
lifted up the corner of the blanket and he sat up like a metal rod had been
placed down his back suddenly.

“NO!” he squeaked.
She had inadvertently brushed his thigh and impossibly his body had
decided that was enough to send him back to half mast. Being a teenage boy was really unfair, and he
pouted internally as he wished he knew if girls felt like this too. There was no way to tell.

Nobuta’s mouth quirked as she tried to smile comfortingly
for him, but the stress of the situation was too much to let her feel natural
with such a gesture. Her efforts were
not entirely in vain, and he gave her a thumbs
up. “Yes, ok. Good good.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

A few things came to mind.
He blushed. It was amazing he had
enough extra blood to get a blush to his cheeks. He took a steadying breath.

“I just need some sleep, don’t mind me.
. . away. Go away and sleep. Away.”

“But your hair is still wet and it’s so cold I don’t want
you to get sick.” Her words poured out,
thoughtful and concentrated, racing from her mouth. “What about something warm to drink? I can make tea.”

She seemed to decide on that herself and rushed out, arms
pressed tightly against her sides.

Akira saw her leave and realized she was probably going to
stay with him the whole night until she thought he was really ok, and that
meant he would not be able to act normally unless he got rid of his little
problem in the time it took her to make tea.
With an unusual decisiveness he reached down and set to work.

He hadn’t made much progress when Nobuta walked in holding
two different tea bags, her mouth an O as she readied a question for him but
not managing to form words. They both
froze this time and Akira seriously considered biting through his tongue and
dying honorably before embarrassment did the job for him.

“What are. . .”

“I know what this looks. . .”

“. . . you doing?”

“. . . like.”

They both paused to consider. Akira was sure shock couldn’t cover what he
was feeling.

“Does your hip hurt?
I could rub it for you.”

Akira’s member throbbed in his hand at her words and he
closed his eyes so tightly a tear formed at the corner.

“No, you don’t need to. . . do
that.”

“You shouldn’t pretend you aren’t hurt.” She strode over and suddenly pulled the
blanket aside. A tea bag hit Akira’s
thigh as her hands went boneless. It was
all out in the open now, literally. No
more hiding. “That’s not your hip.” Her aplomb was admirable in this situation.

“Nobuta. . .” he hiccupped, unable
to say anything even vaguely normally in such a predicament.
- 1
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That Grey Area